Thoughts From the Dining Room

Still working from home. I'm currently working on two projects: one of which requires a co-worker  to do her part first and then I do the rest. The other requires making phone calls to students so I need to wait until the students might actually be up for the day. In between I try to catch up on email and I can also do training.

But right now I'm having a cup of tea and letting my mind wander. So here's what I'm thinking;

• Land O Lakes Butter is removing the iconic Indian maiden from the packaging. She's been there for 100 years but people think it's racist. Ugh.
• I'm going to the store to buy a package and I'm keeping the box with her picture. Maybe it will be worth money some day!
• We have a lot of board games in the dining room. We haven't played one in three years. Maybe it's time to move them.
• Why do we have so many Monopoly games? Championship, Here & Now, Pokémon, Legends of Zelda, the Lion King, the original one and more...and I hate Monopoly! Or as I call it: Monotony!
• Tech Guy shaved his beard: hubba hubba! And he got another kitten! I can't wait until I can have a kitten. But that won't happen until I'm pet-less. 
• I will name the kitten Biscuit, and call her Biskie for short. Of course by then I'll probably be so old I'll think my name is Biscuit!
• It's not Wednesday but apparently the dogs think it's hump day. Um...they're both females so wth?
• Burger King serves breakfast until 10:30. Is 10:00 too early to take my lunch break and make a run for hash browns?
• Do I have to change my clothes to go to the drive-thru?
• I would like to wash the dishes but I'm working so I can't Bummer. Of course, when 4:00 rolls around I won't want to wash the dishes. Oh well: I'll toss Kitty a $10 and she'll wash them!
• I can't wait until I can see my hairdresser because this ponytail just isn't working. Or maybe it's working too well: when I take the hair tie out: it maintains the ponytail shape!
• I'm not sure why I have a glittery red top hanging from a curtain rod in this room. It's been hanging there for over a year. During a Zoom meeting last week a gentleman asked, "Is that a top you have hanging there?" I told him no: it was a piece of art. He was suitably impressed!

I think it's time to change location. Or else frame my top!

Who's NOT in the Will

When you're working from home, you get to spend a LOT of time observing those stranded with you. My "office" is set up in the dining room which is a perfect spot for eyeballing those in the living room. Then when I'm finished for the day: I am sitting in the living room with them. SO with that being said: here is who I have taken out of my will:

Marie - this is a no brainer. Don't get me wrong: yes she's 89 and frail and has an inoperable brain bleed. BUT with all of that she's still crafty as a fox. For instance she's pretty feisty and can be argumentative and eats like she's getting paid for it. But if her sister calls, or her brother or the crown prince from Texas (Carl) to see how she's doing, she tells them she's still 'barely hanging on' and we leave her alone for long periods of time and we didn't tell her it was Easter. Lies! There is always someone here or if the three of us have to leave together Keith is across the street and can come over; and Clancy is three blocks away and can come over. However, her best trick usually happens in the middle of the night. Brie and I sleep (ha!) in the living room with her just in case she falls or needs something. One night last week I heard her get up and go to the bathroom. However, I didn't hear the tappity tap tap of her cane. Weird. Then when she came back into the living room I asked her, "Where's your cane?" "Oh! I didn't know you were awake." "Mm hmm where's your cane?" "Oh I don't know." So miss frail and not-long-for-this-world is free wheelin' around the house without her cane when she thinks we're asleep! Yep: out of the will!

Brie - surprised? Don't be! Thanks to COVID-19 she isn't working and was released from her job like many co-workers due to not enough work to support all employees. She has asthma and is claustrophobic so having to wear a mask is a nightmare for her and gives her panic attacks. We had to go to Wal-Mart Saturday to shop and she put on her mask. But she said she couldn't stay in the store so after getting her items she gave me her debit card, told me to pay for her stuff and high-tailed it back to her car. I had a cart full of stuff to separate and pay for, take to the car and load up. Ugh! And when Kitty and I got to the car Brie was on her phone, listening to tunes and not helping put anything in the car because of her condition. Plus she likes to ask Kitty to do everything for her at home because a) of her condition; or b) she has a dog in her lap. She lounges on the couch like a Victorian woman on a chaise lounge with a case of the vapors. She's out!

Kitty - she is a gem: most of the time. She has been furloughed from her job until retail stores can reopen. But this doesn't keep her down! The store continued to pay her for a month and because her job leave is COVID related: she will be receiving the big unemployment payments. And she lives her life the way she wants, buys what she wants, dresses in styles only she can pull off and has truly been blessed by God. So what does she need my money for? She's out!

Lilly - the creepiest dog around who's supposed to be a long-haired Chihuahua but I know she isn't. . She has self-esteem issues and abandonment issues and since I've been home I can't get her off of me. Even when I'm working she's pawing at my leg to pick her up. When I'm sitting on the couch she is pressed up against me, or on me, or staring at me until I 'let her be the baby' and pick her up to cuddle against my chest. If I go to the car she howls like I've left her alone in the woods. When I come back in 3 seconds later she prances around like she won the lottery. If I'm laying on the couch on my side, she climbs on me and gazes adoringly at me. I turn my head and look back at her and she's closer. I turn my head again and look back and we're nose to nose. She just can't get close enough to me. I think the only way she could get close enough to me would be if she could wear my skin. And I'm sure this has crossed her mind. She's out!

Vivian - who actually is a long-haired Chihuahua and the cutest little dog you'd ever want to see: all 3.5 pounds of her. Her tiny face could launch a thousand ships. But she can be the most annoying little beauty EVER. She has very high metabolism and would eat her weight in food if you'd let her. If she feels I didn't give her enough treats, she will come over, get on her hind legs and push at my leg like a tiny bully. Then she'll start talking, which she does a lot. I mean actual talking, not barking. This used to be cute. When I would talk she would watch my mouth, then silently move hers as if imitating me. Then all bets were off and she'd be talking. And of course like Dr. Doolittle I know exactly what she's saying! Give me treaties! Give me schnacky! I want nummy! Give me what you're eating! I'm hungry!!!!!!!!!! And if she isn't terrorizing me over food, she is trying to force me to kiss her. When this tiny creature wants to kiss you while you're holding her: it's going to happen. I do not kiss animals but she will bide her time: side eyeing you until you forget about her  and then she turns her head and fast as lightning plants one on you. Eww! And then she sneezes on you for good measure! Out!

So who does that leave? Our beautiful Maine Coon cat Victoria. She is the most chill, Zen cat ever: thanks to how Kitty raised her (with classical music and love). She is probably 17 now, and I'm seriously not sure how much longer we will have her. But even though she has acquired a couple of annoying habits since I've been home, I'll take those over the rest. Like since I've been sleeping in the living room, she will go through the room between four and five a.m. to announce the time at the top of her kitty lungs: '4:00 and all is well!' All is not well because I need my sleep before stumbling to the dining room to work! But her favorite annoying habit is playing 'Godzilla destroys Tokyo'. I have some items on the coffee table that are essential to me. So of course Victoria will jump up onto the coffee table, no matter what I say, and sashay her big kitty self around the coffee table, knocking over everything as she goes while I say futilely, "Godzilla! Stop destroying Tokyo!" Then when enough items are on the floor, she gracefully jumps down. But she also will bump her big knotty head against me to show she loves me, she puts up with the dogs and she is just cool. Yep: she inherits everything!

Pound for Pound

Brie gets the biggest kick out of this story from years ago so this one's for her!

Her Majesty and I both had a doctor’s appointment the same morning: hers fifteen minutes before mine so we went in together.  She stepped on the scale and she had gained a couple of pounds but that wasn’t bad, considering prior to this she had lost almost forty.  She had her follow-up and then it was my turn to get weighed.  I was so busy yakking with the nurse that I didn’t pay any attention to what the scale said.  When we went back into the examining room, Kitty snuck a look at my chart and then whispered to me, “You weigh 338 pounds.”  “WHAT??!” I yelped.  “I most certainly do NOT weigh 338 pounds!”  “Yes you do.”  “No I don’t!”  “Yes you do; it says so right on the paper.”  “Girlie, I don’t know what number you were looking at, but if it said 338 it wasn’t my weight.”  To this she replied nonchalantly, “Maybe they were twos, maybe they were threes, and maybe they were fives.”  So she thought I weighed 558 pounds???

This isn’t the first time a child of mine has gotten my weight wrong.  Years ago Robin, Brie and I were weighing ourselves.  I was a little self-conscious about what I might weigh so I didn’t want anyone to see.  I thought I had shielded the number with my foot but Brie piped up, “Mom weighs 218!”  “I do not!”  “Yes you do.  I saw it!”  “No I don’t!”  Of course at the time maybe I did, or maybe I didn’t, but I didn’t need her little eight-year-old butt announcing it to the world, to the giggling delight of my sister!

Why it is that my family likes to make it seem like I’m totally disproportionate as a person?  I’m big-boned, five feet ten inches tall and I work out which doesn’t make me skinny but keeps me strong and healthy.  Yet if I do some laundry and hang the non-dryer items at my parents’ house (because I don’t have a clothesline where I live) my clothes get inspected like alien fallout!

For instance, about fifteen years ago I had a pair of sailor jeans that were trendy at the time (or maybe just to me).  I didn’t want to put them in the dryer so I hung them up on Marie's clothesline.  Along comes Clancy an hour later, looks out the window and starts laughing.  “Whose giant pants are those?” he chortled.  I glowered at him.  “They’re mine.  I don’t know what you’re laughing at because they’re a smaller size than yours!”  “Not by much!”

No matter what it is, they always act like I’m bigger than a sideshow attraction.  And please don’t let me hang up an item of intimate apparel!  I can hang it in the most secret place at Marie's, but someone will find it, hold it up and say, “Whose big granny grunts are these?” Seriously: no one makes you feel unsexier than your siblings!

Brie: you're welcome! Always at my expense...

A Quick Easter Memory

As a single mother, there were some traditions I missed. One of them was an Easter egg hunt. My girls did the hunts with others but not with mom.

That is: until Easter 2018.  Even though they are grown, that was the year I decided to surprise them with an Easter egg hunt. Not a childish one: nope! I had a little financial windfall around that time so instead of candy I put money in those plastic eggs. I was so eggs-cited, ha ha! (did you see what I did there?)

I had to wait quite a while for them to go  to bed because they were adults, but finally I had the downstairs to myself and commenced stuffing and hiding the plastic eggs.  I hid them in the living room, foyer, kitchen, freezer, and dining room.  Then I had to go to bed and wait for them to wake up.

And wait. And wait...they didn't know about the hunt and you know they were sleeping in! I was frustrated, but they finally appeared around 1 in the afternoon. "Happy Easter," they said.

"Happy Easter!!!" I exclaimed. "I have a surprise for you!" I could barely contain myself as I explained about the egg hunt. "And instead of candy: there's CASH in the eggs!" Well that's all I had to say: they were off!

Of course Brie took the lead and started out finding more eggs; so I whispered to Kitty where a couple of them were to make it more even. And it was so much fun! By the time they recouped all the eggs, they had over $200 and the big prize was a $50 bill that Kitty found. She was thrilled!

I'm pretty sure I was mother of the year that day. I'm also pretty sure they were hoping I'd do it again the following year but that didn't happen.  They're adults! But I'm glad I was able to fulfill this activity for my girls. And I think they liked the cash more than candy!

Her Majesty

The title of this entry used to be Kitty's nickname. When people find out they always ask, “Why did you call her ‘Her Majesty’”?  The answer is simple: we believe that she was a member of a royal family in a former life.  Go ahead and laugh, but this girl picked up habits and knowledge that she didn’t get from us, and were like second nature to her!

For instance, when she was just a toddler, she decided that she wouldn’t eat any food unless it was presented to her under a cover, with a flourish!  Who was she, Louis XIV?  I’m serving a two-year-old her toddler food under a silver pot top because it was the closest I could find to a food cover.  And of course, I had to say “Ta da!” when I whipped off the cover to present her kid’s meal!

Then it got to the point where she wouldn’t eat off of paper plates.  I figured if I didn't want to wash dishes, this way I wouldn’t have to.  Wrong!  She always had to have a regular plate; too good for the Hefty!

Then there was her manner of speaking, but this could be attributed to the fact that she had speech therapy for a while.  She was enunciating more properly than the Queen, which of course made her sister and I sound…less than royal, we’ll say!

She was also extremely intelligent: much more so than her years warranted.  While Brie was reading Sweet Valley High, Kitty was reading books on Meteorology, Astronomy and nature.  And then she would quiz her sister and I!  I’d be driving her to school and she would say, “Mom, what kind of cloud is that ahead?”  I’d immediately panic and start to sweat, because I could only remember one cloud from high school science.  “Um…a cumulo-nimbus?”  “No!” she’d say in exasperation.  “It’s a nimbostratus, the same kind I showed you yesterday!”  My only saving grace was she didn’t end her sentence with “Duh!”

Her sister wasn’t exempt from the quizzing either.  At night if we were out, she’d ask Brie, “What’s the name of that constellation?” and she’d point at the sky.  Unfortunately, like me, Brie could only identify the two dippers and Orion.  “Um, the Little Bear?”  “No, it’s Cassiopeia, like I told you last time!”  Poor Brie!

But what really sets her apart is her memory for just about anything she has read or seen.  One night we’re playing “Outburst!” and we get to the category of famous composers.  Brie and I came up with about five or six that were on the card but Kitty, who wasn’t even playing and just happened to be walking through the room, named all twelve composers.  I barely knew twelve composers, to say nothing of being able to guess which ones were on the card!

What’s listed above barely scratches the surface of Ms. Kitty's blue blood.  But thankfully, she has stopped treating Brie and I like the peasants she obviously thought we were!  

Hangin' With Keith

I honestly don't think I've ever mentioned Keith in any of my blogs. He's my older brother (when I claim him) who doesn't drive anymore, by choice. We've never had much of a relationship until Robin died. Then he probably figured good thing he had a spare sister, and that's me.

Our relationship doesn't actually involve "hangin' out", per se. It involves him sitting at home thinking about what errands he can have me run for him, and then calling me to do them. Or, since he isn't tech savvy, he asks me to pay his bills for him online so they post faster (yes he gives me the money for them). But actually spending time with him: wasn't on my to-do list.

I guess it was on his! He called me last Friday and said, "I'd like to go grocery shopping tomorrow at Price Rite. What time did you want to take me?" "Um...what time did you want to go?" "Oh you know me: the earlier the better!" So no sleeping in for Rita! "How about 9:00?" "See you then!"

Of course I was annoyed because a) Saturday is my only day to sleep in; and b) I don't like Price Rite. But being the dutiful servant that I am, it looked like I'd be hangin' with Keith the next day. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad: I'd bring a book and stay in the car. Or I would go in just to buy some of the crackers that Marie really likes. They were only $1.49 there, as opposed to $2.99 at my favorite independent grocer. So I'd go in, get those crackers, and go back to the car.

Just in case Keith didn't have any reusable bags (plastic is banned) I brought a couple along. I had one for my crackers. He was ready promptly at 9, but of course had to go to the bank first. Then we were on our way! When we got there I told him I only needed a couple of things and was then coming back to the car. He got his cart and made his way in while I sent a text, and then, just in case, I grabbed one of the bags, got my own cart (you have no idea how many crackers Marie can eat!) and headed in myself. I just hoped the crackers were in the same place, at the same price!

When you enter the store, the produce section is the first area. It had taken me a few minutes to finally go in, and I could see Keith hadn't even made it through the produce section yet. This gave me a feeling of foreboding...but I kept it moving, passed him and found the crackers. Yes! Still $1.49! I grabbed four packs, and then decided to take a look at the meat. I found a beautiful pack of chuck steaks, perfect for Shanghai Beef and threw that in my cart too. Keith finally passed me and headed to the dairy section. I decided, since I rarely visit that store, to take a cursory walk around to see if there was anything else Marie might like at a really good price.

And that was my mistake: there was plenty of good stuff at great prices! As I went through the store I noticed my cart was getting pretty loaded. Periodically Keith and I would cross paths and he'd show me something he'd found that Marie or I would like. Then I'd head to that area to stock up!

Finally we got to the last aisle, the frozen food section. Keith got two pies for $5 each (coconut cream and Boston cream) and some TV dinners that Marie hadn't tried before, but some stranger had recommended. Why not trust a stranger's advice? (and in this case he was right: Marie loved them).

Since the frozen section was by the registers, I told Keith I was checking out and going to the car. He said he was right behind me. I went to a self checkout register, and let me tell you: it was a good thing I had grabbed the large bag because I had to pack all of that stuff into one and it was heavy and full. But no regrets! I paid and left.

I hauled my one big bag into the back seat and waited for Keith. And waited. And waited. He was right behind me! I started to get irritated. Had he tried to self checkout? Nah, that would be too technical for him and he had produce. Had he gotten mad at the cashier and cursed him out? That was a possibility. But what if he had a sugar low or a heart attack and fell out? Was an ambulance on its way? It had been over half an hour and with this thought I figured I'd better go in and check. Thankfully as I had this thought I saw him coming out, and none of his groceries were bagged and I know he had a couple of bags.

When he got to the car he said, "I ran into a couple of people I know and we had to catch up. And one worked in produce and told me to buy this fruit." He showed me the fresh fruit as I thought about how I thought he was dead. Then, since his two little bags weren't sufficient, I gave him the other two I had and helped him pack up the groceries. Now time to take him home! "So where do you want to go out to eat?"

I gave him an alarmed look. "Um...nowhere. Restaurants are closed." "Why?" "Because of the COVID-19. Only essential businesses are open; or restaurant delivery or takeout." "No kidding!" "Keith, how do you not know that?" "I never watch the news because there's nothing good." I couldn't fault him there...

So home again, home again jiggity-jig. I wasn't mad at this because I don't think I'm ready to share a meal with him. But he says he owes me when this is all over. Maybe by then I'll be ready. In the meantime: he made sure to give me his bills and money before I left!

Thankful for Dreams

If you are a frequent reader, you know that my sister died in 2015.  The pain lessens but never totally goes away. Thankfully my brother Clancy, my daughters and I are able to reminisce and laugh at various memories. She had a quirky sense of humor and was a fan of British humor like Benny Hill (frightening), Absolutely Fab and Monty Python (frightening). She would tell you that her favorite movie was Sense and Sensibility. Lies! In reality her favorite movie was Bachelor Party with Tom Hanks. I couldn’t even tell you how many times she and my father watched this movie and would laugh uproariously every single time. I would just shake my head. If you want to see what I mean, please on demand or Amazon Prime this movie. You’ll never look at Tom Hanks the same again!


Anyhoo, I really miss her. The sad thing is she was a person like my mother: hated to have her picture taken. Therefore, we have very few pictures of Robin: a few as a child but less than that as an adult.

That’s why I am thankful when I have a “dream” about her. I’ve had several. It makes me a little sad that she never speaks in these dreams, but she always looks happy and serene.


Last night I had a dream about her. I went to Marie’s house looking for her, and she said, “She isn’t home from work yet.” Seriously? Her hours were 6 a.m. until 2 p.m. Where could she be? She didn’t come home that whole night. The next day I went over again, looking for her. Marie said, “Of course she’s home. But she’s sleeping on the couch so don’t wake her.” I crept into the living room and sure enough: there she was asleep on the couch. She looked beautiful…She was wearing a black coat, black pants and black top, black mules yet oddly: white socks. Her shoulder-length hair was wavy and she had a serene smile on her face. I could have looked at her all day, but that isn’t how dreams work. And in my rational mind I was thinking: Robin never wore shoes, only sneakers. Yes she wore white socks, but she never wore an all-black ensemble. Hmm, maybe this is why she doesn't talk to me!


Being asleep in the dream ensured she didn't talk to me, but that’s okay. It was good seeing her. It’s different when it’s my father. Daddy Clank always has something to say! His dreams are more like “visits” because of what he discusses with me. I know it isn’t really my father: I believe it’s an angel taking a familiar form so I’m not afraid. Regardless: what I am told is always on point. And he looks spiffy in his navy blue three piece suit!


“Seeing” these two always makes me smile. And it helps lessen the pain a little bit more...