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| 1 of the MOST exciting nights |
| 01.31.04 (5:18 pm) [edit] |
in Dogdom- the Eukanuba invitiational.
If you want to know what the dog show world is about - this is the place to be. Animal planet. I am already crying. So much work, drive, inspiration, hope, faith, and more prayer....
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| The Betta POODLE! |
| 01.31.04 (9:52 am) [edit] |
So a long time ago, when Flaring's HTTP://FLARING.TBLOG.COM/ fish were called "fry", I suggested that she name one POODLE! and she did.
And bonus! She posted photos and he is gorgeous. Go see him. Go see him a lot!
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| BillyRyans List of Last |
| 01.30.04 (6:53 pm) [edit] |
Last Cigarette: the day that the cancer traveled to the brain of my beloved brother in law - 1996.
Last kiss: too long ago to count.
Last cry: 5 seconds ago.
Last library book checked out: too long ago to remember
Last Movie seen in a theatre: see above
Last Book Read: Messages from the Masters
Last Cuss Word Uttered: shit
Last Beverage Drank: Diet coke thinned with bacardi
Last food consumed: - interesting dinner - dal and a half tomato with mayo and this really cool salad from the health food store
Last phone call: My friend Carol who struggles with the new situation that her young adult son's life is irreversibly changed due to drugs/alchohol… .
Last TV show watched: Joan of Arcadia - I LOVE it.
Last time showered: Couple days ago…. But I took a bath this morning. I took a bath yesterday.
Last shoes worn: This makes me smile - currently wearing slippers gifted by sissy. White with "shop till you drop" Poodle on left, shopping girl on right.
Last CD played: :Lost in Space, Aimee Mann
Last Soda Drank: Diet Coke
Last thing written: blog
Last key used: Housekey
Last word spoken: "STAY"
Last slept: This morning
Last IM: too long ago to remember - playing IM tag with Boomer- will always love Boomer - such a loser.
Last ice cream eaten: not important to me
Last time wanting to die: don't want to go there.
Last lipstick: one that is going in the trash the second I change purses.
Last time dancing: WAIT - alone? Formally? With a poodle? Answer to last question, Tuesday.
Last show attended: Orlando Poodle Show, December 2003. I took a qualifying ribbon on Sunday.
Last long car ride: To dog show in Orlando, December 2003.
Last thing you smelled: candles all over the house. A constant.
Last annoyance: at myself for not being more sensitive to the plight of one of my favorite little old ladies.
Last disappointment: myself - always myself.
Last time scolded: today, because I didn't realize that an oversized envelope would require additional postage and when it was returned, and I fixed the problem, it was still not right.
Last Shirt Worn: snap front black long sleeve thing currently worn with sweatskirt.
Last website visited: tblog.com
Last song you listened to: really listened to? New song by Lyle Lovett " she don't tolerate".
Last person that made your heart skip a beat: - NA
Last movie watched: Nowhere in Africa
Watch it with anyone: yes, the dogs.
Last time you went to the mall: before Christmas
Last person you wished you could "do": Can't think of anyone.
Last person you missed: - goes without saying.
Last CD you bought: Lucinda Williams
Last beautiful thing you saw: The sky through the oak tree - raining- the puppies dancing in the rain, trying to find a dry spot, the hurry of their moves. The sight of the back of my stove when I set the tea kettle down on the burner and the snick snick snick of the gas flame starting to heat the water for my soothing cup of tea.
Last lyric stuck in your head: "I'm just a dog, living in a hollow log"
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| I had my baby at 16 |
| 01.30.04 (6:19 pm) [edit] |
Many of you know me from M-blog.
The group here at T-blog seem to be (on the whole) younger. As a woman of 46 years, I believe that I might have much to offer to those who are younger, if for no other reason, than that I had my daughter in the time that should have been my 11th grade of high school.
I was an honor student. I was a member of the National Junior Honor Society. I was editor of my junior high newspaper and yearbook.
In high school, I became pregnant. I became pregnant in January. On the last day of 10th grade, I took two final exams and married the father of my daughter.
I did not return in the fall. I gave birth. It was a very lonely time of my life. My friends were busy thinking about classes, boyfriends, proms, makeup, grades, and all of the other things that girls think about. I was breastfeeding, changing diapers, worrying that my newly unemployed husband would not find work. The only way we made it through was with the care packages from his family and the help of G-d.
I was married before my 16th birthday when I was six months pregnant. I denied myself so many of the things that I should have been involved with.
Make no mistake, I love my daugher more than life itself and have never regretted keeping her, as tough as that has been.
But if my honesty regarding my experience can help one young person here, and rest assured I am speaking to young men who may become fathers too soon as well as the young women who may become pregnant - if I can be helpful, if I can comfort, provide some hope or guidance, I am profoundly sensitive and listening, and totally non -judgmental.
Sincerely.
SofP.
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| Looking Forward is Not as easy as it looks |
| 01.30.04 (4:37 pm) [edit] |
For those of us who suffer from depression, anxiety, and similar maladies I would imagine that this will evoke an aha moment.
For me, depression has been around for so long that it has become habit. I find myself getting sucked into it, and usually can trace it to the tapes running in my head. For people like me, raised in a dysfunctional family (acknowledging that very few families are NOT dysfunctional), I came to believe that everything that went wrong was because I was a bad girl.
Well, I am not a girl anymore, and I have not been one for years. And I was never bad enough to cause divorces until I was a grown woman.
But I still feel that when something bad happens, that I am the root cause. Starving children in some third world country? You now know who to blame. That fire that was pinned on a cow kicking over a lantern? My fault. Minor detail that it was before my birth. As you are all aware, this is not the first time that I have been around. And it won't be the last.
So I have been really struggling to hang on to the good things with my entire being. Case in point: I glanced beside me to a casual list of upcoming expenses. On the list, Lacy's meds - $80.00. Now - you all know that I am grateful as all get out that Lacy's illness (Addisons disease) is under control and that she lived. But money is very tight around here and I have to budget carefully.
And that is what made me smile just a minute ago. Two things really. First, I was informed that it was only $45.00 because of a change. Secondly, you may remember that boss gave me a bonus last week.
So I was all worried about covering Lacy's meds and the other bills and brought all that anxiety onto myself.... for nothing, as everything worked out. That is what I need to remember.
Today's beverage: Yogi tea - the label on the tea bags currently "To be calm is the highest achievment of self" and "when you know that all is light, then you are enlightened" (It is a BIG cup requiring at LEAST 2 bags.)
Today's totem (last nights dream) snake.
Today's achievment: didn't kill anybody - even though it might have been construed as justifiable homicide in a couple of cases.
Tomorrow's plan: Colin gets his yearly shots in the morning. G-d only knows what the rest of the day might bring. All I can say is that I intend to keep my eyes open and my senses tuned to what is going on around me. I have a feeling things are about to get exciting.
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| Looking |
| 01.30.04 (4:22 pm) [edit] |
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| Totem de Jour -SKUNK - and other stuff |
| 01.29.04 (6:39 pm) [edit] |
Last night I dreamed of a skunk. Skunk is a powerful totem. The sheer number of animals that inundate my dreams, my life, is inspiring.
Skunk is about respect. Getting the respect you deserve. It was interesting because I had a heart to heart with myself about work, and decided to give myself more respect and to expect it from those around me. Yes, I do make mistakes. But- I also catch big stuff.
So skunk appeared to me. Thank you skunk for reaffirming that I am on the right path.
Beverage of the evening - I am overdosing on chamomile tea. REALLy feel the stress of the day in my shoulders. I have had several people barging into my space, bosses space, making unreasonable demands. It is not pleasant to have to run interference. Yesterday we had a closing on a bit of biz that was over a million dollars. Loads of people there, I can't have people barging in and taking my energy in that situation. I need to have my million dollar game face focused. The last two days have been about barging.
Maybe that is why skunk shows up. No one barges at skunk twice. Skunk warns, tapping its feet. If that warning is not taken, skunk looks over its shoulder and wham!
I am very close to wham.
I came home, and my meditation led me to the very green place of my past and my future. From the periphery of the forest came wolf, my primary totem.
But now, the chamomile has kicked in and this child is ready for rest. I hope and pray that I am visited by the animals, for they give me messages. I have yet to be visited by an animal that did not have something to offer that I needed at that time.
May you dream of your totem animal(s). And even if they seem humble, it is better to be good mouse than try to force and get mediocre elk
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| Mom told me not to throw stuff in the house - but I do anyway |
| 01.28.04 (5:24 pm) [edit] |
So - it begins. Lacy and I have taken the first step up the mountain that is the CDX title. I got the dumbell out. I coated the center bar with butter so it would taste nice.
I began a game. I have her sit beside me in heel position in a stay. I slide the dumbell across the floor. Tell her to "TAKE IT". She flies across the living room (all 4 feet of it) and grabs it, runs across the couch, spits it out, and waits for a treat.
This is the first step toward the series of steps involved in the exercise in Open. The one where she must sit beside me in the ring. I toss the dumbell over a high jump - about 12 feet beyond with any luck (NOTE to self - remember winning the Lousy dumbell Tosser of the year award in 1994. PRACTICE!) At that point, the judge directs me to "send my dog". She will, with luck, sail over the high jump and go get the dumbell. She will turn and sit and wait for the next direction. Then, she must jump back over the jump, with the dumbell in her mouth, and return to me and wait until I ask her to give it up.
Every action that I train my dogs to do is a series of steps. Every exercise in competition is broken down to its least common denominator. I train each segment and then begin to put the dance together. It is, after all, just that, a dance. Two partners in a choreographed series of moves. We just lack the music. But with any luck at all, we get the applause.
I wish I could share with you the sense of accomplishment that I feel when I have managed in my ineptitude to express to my dog what I want her to do, and have her understand. That huge YES moment, when the lightbulb goes off in her head. You can nearly see it. When I say "around" and she goes "oh yeah, I remember! THAT word means that I go around to the RIGHT and return to that magic place that Mom calls HEEL". As compared to when she says "SWING" , where I flip around like a whirling dirvish and go on her left side. As compared to when she moves her left hand in that Arc like move that means get back to heel on the left.
If Lacy could talk she would have this to say about the 3 returns.
" I like Swing best. It is the flashiest, and lets me demonstrate my superior athleticism. And, it is way fun. My least favorite is Around. It is boring, plodding, too easy, any dog can do it."
Little does she know that there is about to be a fourth return to add to her repetoire. Hand signal for Around - right arm swung in arc. Preventative medicine. I want her to sit squarely in front of me and listen, and watch, not knowing which of the 4 challenges might be what I ask for. Because, bottom line, attentiion is what it is all about. I want her to watch my face, my body, and wait until I give her the next command. It is poetry in motion when it works.
Lacy is brilliant, for which I am grateful. She has a sense of humor that carries the day. Because she is so very smart, I must stay on MY toes to come up with new and inventive ways to fine tune the skills that, once combined, form the framework of our dance.
But for tonight, in our living room, it is all about fun. Actually, it always is all about fun. Rest assured, dear dedicated readers, if it gets to the point where Lacy is not having fun... she gets to retire. I did it before with Jasmine. The object of the exercise is to have fun with my dogs. I am not going to force them to perform like circus animals if they are not enjoying the training time. I train with love and patience. I do not hit. I do not raise my voice. It is all about me being able to figure out a way to make my dogs understand a lanaguage as foreign to them as Japanese would be to me.
And as long as Lacy is flying around the living room with a buttered dumbell in her mouth, we will continue...... after all, girls just wanna have fun.
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| The "Hard Stuff" of Open Dog |
| 01.28.04 (12:58 pm) [edit] |
Here goes: Lacy and I are thinking about advancing to "Open Dog", hence the hard stuff.
In Companion Dog, which is where we currently compete, and can continue to compete until we get our first "leg" in open or get a High in Trial (HIT). In short, we will be competing in Novice B for a while. See, I am already getting ahead of myself.
The heirarchy is: Pre Novice (which is rather a more formal practice match - no awards, nor points are granted)
Novice A and Novice B - This is where you get the three legs (earned by achieving at least 170 points out of a possible 200) to earn the Companion Dog title.
One can only compete in Novice A with your first dog. Once you have titled a dog, you have to compete in Novice B. The exercises are the same, but it levels the playing field.
So we are in Novice B classes at shows. Now, we begin training for Open A - and then my next dog will be ..... that is correct, astute readers! Open B!
In Open - where you earn the title "Companion Dog Excellant" or CDX, the competition involves sending your dog over a broad jump and a high jump. Both jumps are in the ring, the judge calls the jump they want, and you direct your dog over it using hand signals.
You have to train your dog to "go out" which is an antithesis to a dog to leave your side and go far away. then they must turn and sit and wait for you to call them. The judge signals - you call, the dog (hopefully) starts toward you AND IN MIDFLIGHT - you have to down your dog. Get the dog to drop in a run to a down. Then the judge signals again, and you call your dog.
So- dear dedicated readers, that is the hard stuff. Teach a dog that the dumbbell is a very special toy that they will LOVE having in their little mouth while jumping over wooden barricades. Teach them how to count gloves. Teach them to leave your side after you have spent countless hours convincing them that they are joined to you at the hip.
Lacy, as creative as she is, will probably leave the dumbbell where it lies, crawl under the jump, and eat gloves. I will throw the dumbbell into the next ring and clobber the judge in THAT one.
And so it goes.
Then, you toss a dumbbell over the high jump. All the while, the judge is giving you instructions which you are passing on to the dog. The dog must go over the jump, pick up the dumbbell, turn, sit and wait. You call the dog, it jumps back over the jump with the dumbbell and returns in front of you and waits until the judge tells you to take the dumbbell. Then you return the dog to heel position.
Then, there are 3 cotton gloves. One in each corner, one in the center. The judge decides glove #1, #2, or 3. S/he tells you, and you tell the dog using hand signals, which glove. Dog goes over to proper glove, picks it up, returns to you and waits. You take glove and return dog to heel position.
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| If Today is Tuesday |
| 01.27.04 (8:07 pm) [edit] |
Then it must mean DOG SCHOOL!!!
We had a very big time. Lacy, as usual, worked her magic on me and the rest of the class. By that, I mean that there are a couple of people in the class that attempted to show this weekend and walked away sans green ribbon. I will be gloatless. Seriously. I look to those who have something to offer and attempt to gain insight and information.
That said, there are some who are - how can I say this- young souls. They treat me and my dogs as if this were my first rodeo. I remain polite and respectfull.
We did some onlead heeling patterns punctuated with downs. Good plan. Leads into Open class. The instructer is creative. Changes stuff around. Long sits and downs are a huge bore for handler and dog. She did sits and then we went back to work. She had most of us go to one side to work on "stand for exam and figure 8" while she worked individually on Recall.
As you may "recall". the Recall was Lacy's nemesis at her first show.
The exercise is as follows: the judge instructs you to "leave your dog" . Giving a stay command, one leaves (hopefully remembering to leave on the RIGHT foot) and walks across the ring. (NOTE: one has paid an entry fee of $20.00 US) Judge commands: "call your dog"
Now - upon hearing that- your dog - could conceivably think that they should get all warm and fuzzy with you or -
They might wait for you to give them the command to come flying across the ring to sit squarely and beautifully in front of you - whilst waitiing your next command.
Lacy, on the other hand- well..... Lacy redefines the recall. But I digress.
So- back to tonight's practice- judge says "call your dog" I give my "Happy Birthday" - - - Lacy COME!!!!!
She Freaking FLIES across the ring. I would pay good money. We repeat - several times.
My take- YMMV- there are those who WISH they had such a great dog.
I can enter that girl all day long tomorrow. We can walk with green ribbons. She is BORED with this simple stuff. She is SO wanting to learn the hard stuff.
She is ready. The question is - am I?
Lacy has it going on.
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| Sisters - Just Try to Interfere |
| 01.26.04 (7:20 pm) [edit] |
Much has been written throughout history about the relationships of fathers/daughters , mothers/sons and brothers.
Let me tell you here and now. There is another bond - between sisters. I have touched upon it in the past. I will revisit it in the future.
There is a depth and breadth and width of my relationship with my elder sister, Tracy, that no man - no mortal, can traverse.
My sister took beatings intended for me.
I would gladly lay across molten rocks to allow her safe passage, should need arise.
We are joined in spirit through a difficult childhood. Against all odds, coming from a background that was of a series of failed releationships, we each found love. We each formed a successful union, a marriage with our beloved. We had wonderful lives, were wonderful wives until disaster struck us both down, she in 1997, me in 1999. We were both widows at age 42.
Now we stand before you, like wounded animals. We find solace in each other's arms. We reach out for comfort in contact with those we loved who have left this corporeal form. We find little comfort in those who surround us at this time, for few, if any can comprehend.
Who would think. Two sisters, from a truly broken family, would circumvent normalcy to find love. To form good marriages. Two sisters, who would, within four years, lose not one, but both of those remarkable men who saw beyond the damaged girls.
Two sisters, joined as if conjoined twins in grief, forging forward with the strength of those who love them, even in death. Two sisters, whose waking thought must be: "All I want ,is for you to remember me Loving You".
I have no earthly idea how we have come this far. I only know two things: where I am and what time it is. The answer is : here and now.
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| Today's Stats |
| 01.26.04 (2:01 pm) [edit] |
Beverage: Nutcracker Sweet tea
Agenda: Work for a living
Basic overview of day: tanning index of 8 with overall cloudlessness. In short, just another manic Monday.
Mood: Cautiously optimistic.
Evening Plans: CELL DOGS! Also, am compelled to listen to boss Dude's radio show. The fascinating tales of taxes and investments.
Dinner: leftovers
Days left til I go to trial: 77
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| Ozzy Osborne's Dog Trainer |
| 01.26.04 (4:21 am) [edit] |
Watching Osborne marathon yesterday - decided - I want to help those people get those dogs housebroken and well behaved.
I want to teach Jack and Kelly how to train the dogs. That way, Lola will be safe from the occassional fit of pique' when she shits on Sharon's Oriental carpets.
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| Picnic Near the Castle |
| 01.25.04 (1:41 pm) [edit] |
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I want to go HERE and have enough foresight to bring a picnic. I want to drive to where the road becomes too narrow. I want to walk the rest of the way to the castle, and spread a quilt over the grass. I want wine, tea, fresh tomatoes, and cheese and bread. The olive trees will cast shadows over the ground, the breeze will soften the heat of August and the view of the white village below will fill me with peace. [image]SusanofPudlin_1362 416338.jpg[/image]
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| Old Lace |
| 01.25.04 (1:34 pm) [edit] |
With thought to the whales of my dreams, I ventured into the Herculean task of repairing a linen tea towel that had seen the inside of a washer way too many times.
While my needlework is decidedly amatuerish, the tea towel is lovingly starched and on display beneath a tiny pink and white tea set gifted to me by my precious sister.
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| Todays Lists |
| 01.25.04 (6:40 am) [edit] |
Today's beverage - Lili'uokalani tea - black from China - lovely! Sipping from a porcelain cup and matching pot for one, which is atop a silver tray with a linen napkin.
Today's dream memory - recently inundated with animal images. I have pulled from the shelf "Animal Speak" to analyze the meaning. The animals are Lynx, Whale, and Snake, in that order.
Lynx is about being alone without being lonely. It also reveals that a person for whom the lynx is a totem, that they can see the true motivations of others, which makes others uncomfortable. It is related to the number 11 - a powerful number and the tarot card Hermit.
Whales are very complicated, and the keynote of creativity. The message that I got from this dream, is that just like the whale breaks out of the water when surfacing, it is not sufficient to be creative if I am merely recreating others version of creativity. In short, I need to quilt.
Snakes - now- my dream was complex. I was watching as someone holding a snake said "watch as they hunt each other". Immediately, beside me appeared a very fast snake. It burrowed very quickly through the earth at my feet, and popped up in front of the woman holding the other snake. It bit her hand and then swallowed the other snake whole.
Give me a minute and I will try to figure this one out.
OK I am going to paraphrase Ted Andrews here. Make no mistake - this is not plaguerized material.
"They swallow their prey whole. To be able to do this, their jaws will unhings. The mouth is where we take in nutrition. The unhinging ability allows increased ability for those with this totem to swallow and absorb greater amounts of nutrition for the head, i.e. knowledge.
Also, because of the skin shedding thingy, snakes are associated with rebirth, as are whales - due in part to the Jonah business.
A look at bobcat (frequently taken for Lynx) mentions that for whom bobcat comes, expect some new learning within 7 to 10 months you will have what you need.
And both bobcat and snake mention the sexual portion of the kundalini.
Today's agenda - brunch with Carol, photograph a cadillac and request help from all of you to date it. Maybe a little bit of boofing.
Today's message from Journey to the Heart, by Melody Beattie:
Cherish your favorite spaces - go to the bookstore that makes you feel all good, or the fabric store or the garden. Healing doesn't have to be extravagant, exensiv, or traditional. Somtimes it just means going to the places that make us feel good.
Interesting, because yesterday, I went to LaTeaDa (with Lacy) where I bought this lovely tea and had a chat with Susan, the owner. Then I went to buy dog food (with Lacy) and had a nice chat with the owner - a poodle person. They were having a sale, the store was very busy. They were giving away hot dogs and hamburgers. Lacy had a hot dog.
Then we went to Ferg's where I had 2 beers and a French Dip. Lacy laid on her blanket and soaked up attention.
We came home and I watched "Shipping News" which was wonderful and made me appreciate Florida all the more. It is placed in NewFoundland. All cold rocks and unforgiving ocean. At least if you fall off a boat in Florida, you stand a chance of survival. Not so there.
So that is my yesterday and my early today. Who knows what tomorrow may bring.
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| One Clean Dog, Two Clean Dogs |
| 01.24.04 (9:25 am) [edit] |
After Woofing with Lacy, I decided that Colin needed a bath. That was over 2 hours ago. He is now clean, dry, and had a shave and a haircut.
The grooming needs of a multiple poodle household are never done.
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| The Meaning of the Verb Boof |
| 01.24.04 (6:02 am) [edit] |
Lacy's Canine vocabulary for a Saturday Morning
Boof - To go outside, to practice the sublime partnership of Canine Companion Dog Exercises while in the company of my personal human. To experience the bond of competitive teamwork while refining skills recently aquired along with attempting to learn new ones.
Since she asked so nicely, how can I refuse? See you later. I am off to Boof.
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| Judge Judy's Producer and Other INteresting Tidbits |
| 01.23.04 (6:40 pm) [edit] |
Gentle Readers:
When I last wrote, my friend Carol was convinced that the Airborne package that she received from Judge Judy was a hoax.
Judge Judy's producer called her. She freaked out. Told her she would only talk if I was on an extension. Then she came here. I called, left my number and we waited.
The telephone rang- we each got on an extension and had a nice chat with Jenifer Faison - Producer for the Judge Judy show (among others).
I asked what about our case made it desirable. She asked to have us explain our case. I had been telling Carol all along that what we have here is a slam dunk.
Carol told her the basics. She told Carol that they probably would not be interested since clearly it is a SLAM DUNK.
But wait! I said.....What you are looking for is human interaction, conflict - this guy has a history of domestic violence- assault....
She got re interested.... and she asked if we had a number. Now - my bottom line - I want to get my friend her money back. I have done all that I can to ensure that she gets a judgment against him. But in Florida, you can't touch a house, and you can't touch the primary vehicle that a person uses to get to and from work. BUT - if I could, and I tried, to get the producer of Judge Judy to call him..... maybe that would get him motivated to find a way to repay my friend.
That is that tack that I took. She will call him. He told Carol that there was NOTHING she could do. That IF she got a judgment against him, that it would be worthless. Clearly, he underestimated her... and me.
I had a nice chat with the producer of Judge Judy tonight. Did this day rock or what?????
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| Judge Judy and Small Claims Court |
| 01.23.04 (4:06 pm) [edit] |
ONE more thing! Dear Readers,
As you may recall, my dear friend Carol asked for my help to get a man who owes her $1,000.00 to pay up. She had called, and emailed, and he came back with empty promises for about a year.
So I wrote her complaint and filed the statement of claim in small claims court. She will be appearing pro se, that is, without a lawyer.
Today, via Airborne Express, she received a package from Judge Judy's television show saying that the person who checked the docket in our county had sent her the DOCUMENT I CREATED and that they may choose her case for court. IF chosen, if she appears, if she wins, she is guaranteed to be paid within 30 days plus court costs.
Yippee! I wrote such a Statement of Claim that it caught the eye of the staff of Judge Judy!
I will check it out very carefully to be sure that it is not a hoax. If it is a hoax, from the person she is suing, I will enter it into evidence. Shabam. Fo Schizzle.
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| Feel Like a 50 Pound Sack has been lifted From Around my Neck |
| 01.23.04 (4:00 pm) [edit] |
I have been so depressed for so long. The events of today have bouyed me so much that I feel like a 50 pound sack has been taken off my neck.
I am so confident that the light at the end of the tunnel may not be the train this time.
The effect has been to make me very very sleepy. I bet by 9 I will be between the sheets, snuggled up with dogs and delighted that I have no reason to get up early.
It is going to be a GREAT weekend.
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| Posturing, Chest Thumping, and Settling |
| 01.23.04 (2:38 pm) [edit] |
The conversation between my lawyers and the lawyer for the surgeon today upped the ante. Opposing counsel asked what I would settle for, and if I would take the $500,000.00 that they were offering today. My guy said, so what if we go to trial and get a million.
The other guy said "what if I put some pressure on the cardiologist to settle too?"
My guy said : That is exactly what you need to do.
So as we get closer to trial, the heat is on. They have dragged this out as long as they possibly can. I have done everything in my power to be a good client, up to and including not dating for a very long time. It is all very complicated, but they would love to be able to tell a jury that I have moved on, gotten over him, have a boyfriend.... etc. I have denied them that.
Things are going to start happening pretty fast - The trial is less than 80 days away. The heat is on. I am feeling very confident that it will all work out in my favor. Then I can do some really wonderful things for a lot of people and dogs.
Just keep those prayers coming. Now is the time. Keep me safe and healthy, and pray for the health of everyone else involved. Let the piece of crap doctors pop a carotid AFTER the trial.
Yee ha - it is Friday night, G-d is in the heavens and all is right with the world.
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| Bonus, Post Office, and other delights. |
| 01.23.04 (12:17 pm) [edit] |
Dear Readers,
It has been a day!
1. Went to Post office this morning. Mystery man said that what I did was very nice, got big smile. Then someone yelled that if he didn't move his car, they were getting ready to tow it away. Talk about ruining a moment!
2. It's payday. So I got the paystubs off the printer and brought them to boss. He nonchalantly put my check and the stub paperclipped together in my bin, as is our habit. (I have a bin on his desk. I put work on the corner of his desk, he puts together the gadgillion post it notes directing my next series of actions, and puts it in my bin.) It works for us.
So I go to fold the form and put it in my purse and something is amiss..... I take the check off and there beneath it is another check for $150.00 that says "insurance" on it. Now, he contributes $100.00 per month toward my health insurance. But that is paid on the first pay period of the month. I asked him what this was about. He says, 'inflation, everything goes up, doesn't it?" Reality is that it is a bonus. Just because.
AND THEN: one of my lawyers called. They are beginning to talk about settlement. Wouldn't that be wonderful?????
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| My Mom |
| 01.22.04 (6:31 pm) [edit] |
Today is my mom's Yartzheit - the anniversary of her passing. From my mother I got: courage, character, strength, self esteem, a kick ass set of cooking skills, my sister who is thankfully, still with me, and a brother who passed some 30 years ago.
I got a sense of humor. I got not taking myself too seriously. I got boobs... and more boobs. She showed me how to learn by watching people. She gave me the value of writing. She taught me how to make the best of what I have, but also how to try to get more.
She was a very big advocate of self improvement. She taught me how to sew, a craft and art that carry me forward daily.
She was all that and much more. She was cute, sexy, adorable, my mom. She rocked when, at 15, I told her that I was pregnant. I would have killed me. She was strong.
When her time came, she taught me grace under pressure. She spoke of Hospice care, of the chaplain as "her new travel agent".
I have my mother's ashes here. I have my mother here, within me - for she was paramount in my life, and in the cookie jar that she chose for the recepticle. Some time in the not too distant future, I will - accompanied by my sister, scatter my mothers cremains upon the ocean off the coast of Maine. It is was her request. I will fulfill my obligation.
I remember my mother. I love my mother. I always will.
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| Best In Show - You Can't Win if You Don't Enter |
| 01.22.04 (5:18 pm) [edit] |
Last night, I touched on the dating/dog show analogy. I think it is worthy of deeper exploration and explanation.
My passion, my joie de vivre is participating in dog shows. I did not wake up one day with the knowledge of how to win in the ring. I learned it. I began with the entry of a "fun match" with a British Bull Terrier.
Fun matches are an opportunity to learn, to practice, to see if you like it. I entered a couple of dogs in a fun match. I learned that A) my husband HATED being in the ring. B) That I LOVED being in the ring.
I moved on to real shows. We found our strengths and our weaknesses. We used the opportunities afforded us to further forge our bond, to have fun, to share our weekends and to learn the world of dogs and dog shows. We added another dog. I had three dogs that I was competing with in two different rings.
We had our groove. He was intrinsically involved in my success in the show ring. He got me there, got me organized, talked me through the nerves (yes, I love it, but I still get nervous). He handed me a fresh dog and an arm band at the right ring at the right time. He took notes backstage about the competition and the other competitors. He saw judges and remembered them. He was my cheering section. He never shut up when I won. He offered insightful constructive criticism when appropriate, and acknowledged when I was robbed.
But, alas, and alack, he has ceased to be a presence in the corporeal form. I am intrinsically aware of his presence in every venue where we showed. He is in me, around me, always. When now I do well, he is there by me in the ring, above my shoulder, slightly behind me. Do not think that it is not so, for it is.
Back to the analogy. I did not roll out of the rack one day knowing how to stack a dog, nor how to show a dog how to do a proper return. I learned a bit at a time. The process is not about the end result, it is about the process.
So much of this applies to dating. So what if I don't "win" my first fun match. I entered.
I can either use this opportunity to learn the footwork necessary for this heeling pattern or I can watch the Eukanuba Classic longingly and feel cheated because I did not even place. If I don't enter by the deadline, I cannot compete. If I cannot compete, no one gets to see my dogs in action. If no one sees my dogs, they could be splitting atoms after finding the cure for the common cold for all the good it would do.
If you don't send in your entry form, you don't get the armband. If you don't have an armband, you don't stand a chance of getting Best in Show.
I sent in my entry form.
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| The Saga Continues - Film at Eleven |
| 01.22.04 (1:51 pm) [edit] |
I was hoping that the phone would ring last night, but alas, it did not. Rest assured, dear readers... I would have let YOU know straight away if it had.
Today I began wrapping up the Estate of Dollie P. I have been involved in the Guardianship of Dollie for about a year and recently and she slipped off this plane of existence. She had Alzheimers and was not enjoying life anymore. I was relieved for her.
So Dollie had a pet charity. This afternoon, I prepared the documents to send with the checks representing her bequests. Her neice gets a grand. The DAV gets 5 grand. The biggie is a check for $341, 096.16.
I hope you know that it goes via certified mail, return receipt requested. I think you know that means I go to the post office in the morning. I bet you can guess that I might get an answer to the burning question of whether Drew wants to play post office with me or not.
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| Will Mystery Man Take the Bait? Film At Eleven |
| 01.21.04 (2:30 pm) [edit] |
I am a paralegal. I work for a guy who does a lot of probate work. We file the appropriate documents with the Court, gather the assets, determine who gets paid and how much, and generally keep things organized for the process of wrapping up the affairs of those who have died.
That is a thumbnail sketch of part of what I do. Many of these documents must be sent via certified mail return receipt requested. Which is where "mystery man" comes in. He works for the USPS. He turned up at my regular post office recently. His name is Drew and he looks very much like a photograph of my grandfather that was taken around 1930 when grandpa was in his early twenties.
So Mystery Man is a floater for the post office. And it seems to me that every time that I had certified mail, we had a very good time and he was asking questions and I was asking questions and since he is a floater, it seemed to me that I had only a window of opportunity before he might be moved across the city. Then I would never find him again, and the chances of him getting my work number off the checks was too remote. So I told boss yesterday that we needed to generate some CRRR mail and he asked why and I told him. Then he told me about the day that he met his wife and that if he had done what he normally would have done, that is, walk by her and look at her 20 or 30 times, that she would have walked out that day and he would never have seen her again. Then he said that I should go there this morning - without any official business - just to say hi.
So I did. I have a shoebox full of Grimmy cards that I won when our dog won the Mother Goose and Grimm contest (I must remember to blog out THAT story) and I chose a silly one. Inside I wrote something along the lines of " taking a huge risk here, but I find you VERY attractive and IF you are not involved or seeing anyone and you would like to have a cup of coffee or grab a bite, here are my numbers. Give me a call.
Then, I went in. Now - I think that there might be some subterfuge afoot. I was 4th in line. I was hoping against hope that it would work out naturally so that he would wait on me. The rest of the people who work there are pretty used to seeing me nearly every day. One lady who is quite nice, was down in her usual spot. Her name is Sand. So Sand is waiting on this guy. All the people in front of me are gone. It is him, the lady buying stamps from him who is busy telling him her life story, Sand, and me. Oh wait - he did look up, saw me in line, waved and smiled.
So Sand just nonchalantly turns and walks into the back room. Now, dear readers, I ask you.... am I reading something into this, or might he have put the word on her that if I came in that he would like to have the opportunity to cancel my stamps.
Finally stamp lady with the endless litany of complaints about the limited availability of IRS forms leaves his window.
I walk over and said " I really have no official business here today, but I wanted to say hi and give you this because I didn't want tongues to start wagging if I didn't have anything in my hand. Then I gave him the card. And he grinned. I might have too.
But if he calls, I surely will. Even if he calls to tell me that he is involved, I will. Because I took a chance. I have to trust my instincts and my instincts are telling me that this guy is as interested in me as I am in him.
And that is the story, Morning Glory.
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| I Flirted, There fore I am Alive |
| 01.21.04 (9:12 am) [edit] |
I told boss dude about a flirtation that I have going on. He suggested that I take it up a notch and ask the guy out, or at least let him know how I felt.
I did. I delivered a little card with my number and the message that I found him attractive and if he was not involved with anyone that I would like to go have a cup of coffee or a bite to eat.
I told him I was not on official business, but that I wanted to say hi. I left the card. He smiled big big big.
Who knows what will happen next.
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| If you intend to Murder Your Ex - Don't write a novel and keep it in your computer |
| 01.20.04 (3:56 pm) [edit] |
Today began the murder trial of my expert witness. Seriously. I hired this guy (my attorneys found him and hired him, in truth) , paid him 9 THOUSAND dollars to look at the records, the videos, the evidence. He is to testify for me.
One minor glitch - he stands accused of murdering his ex wife. His trial started today. It opened with the Prosecuting Attorney revealing that this guy had written a novel on his computer describing the murder - BEFORE she DIED.
I am so screwed where this guy is concerned. Bit of a credibility problem with him if he is not aquitted. And things look exceedingly grim. What with him using the victim's name as a title to his piece of "fiction".
The moral of the story for you, dear readers, dead men tell no lies but hard drives reveal plenty of secrets.
Write about other people's crimes. Then commit different ones. Just avoid embezzlement. It is the one thing that is a crime, a tort and breach of contract.
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| Sisters- Lord Help the Mister - That comes between me and my Sister |
| 01.19.04 (7:03 pm) [edit] |
Both of us- damaged goods. Widowed at 42 years of age. What exactly are the odds of that. Insert plumbing words where appropriate.
We hurt. Deeply, endlessly, physically, mentally, tormented souls who share the common bond of losing our mates of many years at the same point in our lives. She, two years prior. We grew up so very close. We have become closer in our grief, as if that were conceivable.
Recently, she brought it to my attention that she used my M -Blog as a barometer of how I was doing. That she found Tblog cumbersome. That she, like me, missed my m-blog community, the ability to see that others were commenting on my writings, the support that she felt from my friends. So I have begun to duplicate my postings for her convenience.
Today I read the following comment from Sissy of SofP:
I wonder what was going on in the astrological world. I felt as if I had not taken my medication for days and was suffering from withdrawal...that is a terrible feeling for me. Now, this morning, I am wondering just what went on because I feel "normal". What ever that may be! I know that I went to see the grandbaby girl and she and I lay on the couch together, and time with her is like being with a love sponge..she soaks my pains right into herself like a little love sponge. But I know something was terribly wrong and I need to figure it out to avoid it happening again. I wish you much red fabric! xoxox sissy of sofp
My response: I am likewise, inundated with messages and emotions swirling about me. Today I found that some "thing" I attributed to someone was merely a deep piece of rubble in the earthquake that is my life. It really didn't happen, but when you have been dragged from under the rubble of 4 layers of interstate, above Candlestick Park, accuracy in reporting is no longer something I can claim.
I spent the evening watching Cell Dogs and stroking puppy bellies. Piss on ironing and cleaning and all of the other duties.
I think right now, we both need to learn to quiet the voices that are screaming at us like an unattended teakettle: do this, do that, accomplish this- finish that.
I LOVE you sissy of sofp - truly, just the way you are. Totally, completely. I don't want you to change anything. I just want you to help me figure out how to be quiet in my head. I need permission to just be. You have 2 years on me. This is your assignment. Find a way that we can give us permission to just be - like we were that day when we went on that picnic on the spacecoast.Like when we went to Rogers and bought babyfood for our babydolls at .07 cents a jar and most of it went into you. Like when we read Nancy Drew novels and ate apples while outside it rained all day. Like when we put on musical performances with you and Robin singing "going to the chapel". We need to remember again,how to just be.
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| Quilted Red V-Day Pillow |
| 01.18.04 (2:03 pm) [edit] |
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As is my habit, when depression rears its ugly head, I turn to fabric as a mode of expression. Today I finished a pillow constructed of red print fabric quilts upon which is satin stitched a white heart. Around the edge is a deep solid red ruffle. It closes with red velcro. I am now out of red fabric. Must move on to pink.
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| SHE WORE A VINTAGE PINK TULLE CRINOLINE OVER HER COWBOY JEANS |
| 01.18.04 (8:29 am) [edit] |
Morgan's Birthday Tea Party
To honor my granddaughter Morgan's seventh birthday (how did THAT happen, she was just born last month, I swear!) we were planning a tea party at La Tea Da with my friend Carol, Aunty, BabyGirl, Morgan and I.
As so often happens, plans went awry. We couldn't seem to pull it together. There were boys that needed to be considered. Money was in short supply. Plans were changed.
So, I did the best that I could. I pulled out all of the vintage tablecloths and put all of them on the table, overlapped and shabby chic. Paired them with Battenburg lace napkins in silver napkin rings. I pulled out the Lu Ray china in its sweet shades of pastel colors. I polished the tidbit tray and set the table for tea with eclectic service ware. I lit candles. Then I made finger sandwiches, rolled chicken slices in giant tortillas spread with softened cream cheese. I made a broccoli cheese quiche and sliced it thin. There were tiny cream puffs stuffed with custard and piroulines. I served a "tea" of peach lemonade for the children from a teapot shaped like Aunt Jemima. The adults had some fabulous tea that I bought last time at La Tea Da.
The gifts were wrapped with care and bestowed with plenty of ribbons and bows. They were stacked upon a side table that was topped with vintage linen and a stack of vintage hats.
The birthday girl arrived. I had her cover her eyes. I brought her into the dining area for the reveal. She seemed pleased. I put a vintage pink crinoline on her. Then I sat her down for makeup. Sister the Mary Kay consultant had provided me with some lovely sample sets of Mary Kay. I used one on the birthday girl. She loved getting all made up with 3 shades of eyeshadow, lipstick, and blush. Then she chose the hat that she wanted to wear.
Of course, Ashley got made up as well. Then all the girls present chose a hat. We sat down to tea and to open gifts. Morgan was pleased with the loot. I do believe that of the gifts, the little purse with the poodle on it was her favorite. She was delighted to pull her crinoline up around her neck to gain access to her pocket in her cowgirl jeans to produce the latest tooth that had come out just the day before, so that she could put it in her little purse.That is my girl, so delicate, so lacy. See the sarcasm drip from my fingers onto the keyboard.
Morgan is the youngest of three. With two older brothers, she has learned to be as rough and tumble as the boys. I am trying to instill some sense of femininity into her. Each time I get her to use a napkin is a triumph.
The birthday girl wore a vintage pink tulle crinoline over her cowboy jeans. Eclectic. Just like her grandmother.Morgan's Birthday Tea Party
To honor my granddaughter Morgan's seventh birthday (how did THAT happen, she was just born last month, I swear!) we were planning a tea party at La Tea Da with my friend Carol, Aunty, BabyGirl, Morgan and I.
As so often happens, plans went awry. We couldn't seem to pull it together. There were boys that needed to be considered. Money was in short supply. Plans were changed.
So, I did the best that I could. I pulled out all of the vintage tablecloths and put all of them on the table, overlapped and shabby chic. Paired them with Battenburg lace napkins in silver napkin rings. I pulled out the Lu Ray china in its sweet shades of pastel colors. I polished the tidbit tray and set the table for tea with eclectic service ware. I lit candles. Then I made finger sandwiches, rolled chicken slices in giant tortillas spread with softened cream cheese. I made a broccoli cheese quiche and sliced it thin. There were tiny cream puffs stuffed with custard and piroulines. I served a "tea" of peach lemonade for the children from a teapot shaped like Aunt Jemima. The adults had some fabulous tea that I bought last time at La Tea Da.
The gifts were wrapped with care and bestowed with plenty of ribbons and bows. They were stacked upon a side table that was topped with vintage linen and a stack of vintage hats.
The birthday girl arrived. I had her cover her eyes. I brought her into the dining area for the reveal. She seemed pleased. I put a vintage pink crinoline on her. Then I sat her down for makeup. Sister the Mary Kay consultant had provided me with some lovely sample sets of Mary Kay. I used one on the birthday girl. She loved getting all made up with 3 shades of eyeshadow, lipstick, and blush. Then she chose the hat that she wanted to wear.
Of course, Ashley got made up as well. Then all the girls present chose a hat. We sat down to tea and to open gifts. Morgan was pleased with the loot. I do believe that of the gifts, the little purse with the poodle on it was her favorite. She was delighted to pull her crinoline up around her neck to gain access to her pocket in her cowgirl jeans to produce the latest tooth that had come out just the day before, so that she could put it in her little purse.That is my girl, so delicate, so lacy. See the sarcasm drip from my fingers onto the keyboard.
Morgan is the youngest of three. With two older brothers, she has learned to be as rough and tumble as the boys. I am trying to instill some sense of femininity into her. Each time I get her to use a napkin is a triumph.
The birthday girl wore a vintage pink tulle crinoline over her cowboy jeans. Eclectic. Just like her grandmother.Morgan's Birthday Tea Party
To honor my granddaughter Morgan's seventh birthday (how did THAT happen, she was just born last month, I swear!) we were planning a tea party at La Tea Da with my friend Carol, Aunty, BabyGirl, Morgan and I.
As so often happens, plans went awry. We couldn't seem to pull it together. There were boys that needed to be considered. Money was in short supply. Plans were changed.
So, I did the best that I could. I pulled out all of the vintage tablecloths and put all of them on the table, overlapped and shabby chic. Paired them with Battenburg lace napkins in silver napkin rings. I pulled out the Lu Ray china in its sweet shades of pastel colors. I polished the tidbit tray and set the table for tea with eclectic service ware. I lit candles. Then I made finger sandwiches, rolled chicken slices in giant tortillas spread with softened cream cheese. I made a broccoli cheese quiche and sliced it thin. There were tiny cream puffs stuffed with custard and piroulines. I served a "tea" of peach lemonade for the children from a teapot shaped like Aunt Jemima. The adults had some fabulous tea that I bought last time at La Tea Da.
The gifts were wrapped with care and bestowed with plenty of ribbons and bows. They were stacked upon a side table that was topped with vintage linen and a stack of vintage hats.
The birthday girl arrived. I had her cover her eyes. I brought her into the dining area for the reveal. She seemed pleased. I put a vintage pink crinoline on her. Then I sat her down for makeup. Sister the Mary Kay consultant had provided me with some lovely sample sets of Mary Kay. I used one on the birthday girl. She loved getting all made up with 3 shades of eyeshadow, lipstick, and blush. Then she chose the hat that she wanted to wear.
Of course, Ashley got made up as well. Then all the girls present chose a hat. We sat down to tea and to open gifts. Morgan was pleased with the loot. I do believe that of the gifts, the little purse with the poodle on it was her favorite. She was delighted to pull her crinoline up around her neck to gain access to her pocket in her cowgirl jeans to produce the latest tooth that had come out just the day before, so that she could put it in her little purse.That is my girl, so delicate, so lacy. See the sarcasm drip from my fingers onto the keyboard.
Morgan is the youngest of three. With two older brothers, she has learned to be as rough and tumble as the boys. I am trying to instill some sense of femininity into her. Each time I get her to use a napkin is a triumph.
The birthday girl wore a vintage pink tulle crinoline over her cowboy jeans. Eclectic. Just like her grandmother.
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| I cry |
| 01.17.04 (4:17 pm) [edit] |
I don't like it. I cry at the drop of a hat. At a silly movie, when I receive mail.
I cry -
I cry when some sophomoric stuff is on, when a song plays that reminds me, when I am cooking and smell Kaffir limes.
I cry -
for what I had and lost.
I cry.
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| The Early Years - Fiction (or something resembling it) |
| 01.15.04 (5:10 pm) [edit] |
Somehow, her father never seemed to have the money to pay for their card, so Emily and her brothers were moved again and again. Children are amazingly resilient little critters, and eventually Emily and her two brothers almost got used to being shuffled around. The first time they were taken to a stranger's home was traumatic for all of them. No one had ever bothered to explain to them where their mother was or even if she would ever return. Never mind that they were being left in the home of perfect strangers. Emily wondered what she had done to make Mommy and Daddy mad enough to leave her like tat. She thought that she must be a very bad little girl. She was three then, that day that Daddy had left them at the Blazeks. It had been a very nice day up to that point. They had all gone on a picnic at a rock quarry, and eaten submarine sandwiches. Emily tried very hard, but could not finish her sandwich, so Daddy had finished it for her. Then he told her and the boys that they were going to live with a real nice family. Emily cried, begging her father not to leave them, to no avail. She was terrified, as were her brothers. The boys were eight and five years old.
Daddy drove them to the Blazeks (even the name frightened her, conjuring images of razor blades in her head, symbols of pain and hurt sprung up causing her an immediate and intense fear of Butch and Carol Blazek).
Carol was a pretty, young girl, the mother of two baby girls, and suddenly the foster motehr of three waifs. Almost anyone thrust into those circumstances, couldn't or wouldn't have done as well. There were times, like when the babies were down for their naps, that she would join the children as they played in the big tree that dominated the lawn. She really tried to be good to them.
Emily had a habit of throwing her left foot in a little as she walked. Carol would make her walk up and down the lines of the linoleum floor every day, whacking her with a paddle when the foot reverted to its old habits. She did this because she honestly thought that it would cure Emily of a bad habit. Emily still throws that foot in when she walks to this day. Another habit that she found annoying was one of Emily's defenses against a world in which she found little solace. Emily sucked her thumb. Carol attempted every cure known to man at the time. She anointed the offending thumbs with foul tasting liquids and wrapped them in bandages. Emily gave up her thumb sucking of her own accord at age eleven.
Often in the Blazek household, there was not enough food to go around. Emily awoke early one morning and slipped into the kitchen. She took three Fig Newton cookies and popped on into her mouth. Her brother, hearing her, came into the kitchen to investigate. David, her brother, told Carol, and Emily suffered the humiliation of having to wear diapers for the rest of the day. From that day forward, if she awoke hungry in the middle of the night, a common occurrence, she would sneak out to the kitchen where invariably the bean pot would still be soaking in the sink. She would scoop up the few remaining beans out of the dirty dishwater and furtively eat them.
Somehow, her father never seemed to have the money to pay for their card, so Emily and her brothers were moved again and again. Children are amazingly resilient little critters, and eventually Emily and her two brothers almost got used to being shuffled around. The first time they were taken to a stranger's home was traumatic for all of them. No one had ever bothered to explain to them where their mother was or even if she would ever return. Never mind that they were being left in the home of perfect strangers. Emily wondered what she had done to make Mommy and Daddy mad enough to leave her like tat. She thought that she must be a very bad little girl. She was three then, that day that Daddy had left them at the Blazeks. It had been a very nice day up to that point. They had all gone on a picnic at a rock quarry, and eaten submarine sandwiches. Emily tried very hard, but could not finish her sandwich, so Daddy had finished it for her. Then he told her and the boys that they were going to live with a real nice family. Emily cried, begging her father not to leave them, to no avail. She was terrified, as were her brothers. The boys were eight and five years old.
Daddy drove them to the Blazeks (even the name frightened her, conjuring images of razor blades in her head, symbols of pain and hurt sprung up causing her an immediate and intense fear of Butch and Carol Blazek).
Carol was a pretty, young girl, the mother of two baby girls, and suddenly the foster mother of three waifs. Almost anyone thrust into those circumstances, couldn't or wouldn't have done as well. There were times, like when the babies were down for their naps, that she would join the children as they played in the big tree that dominated the lawn. She really tried to be good to them.
Emily had a habit of throwing her left foot in a little as she walked. Carol would make her walk up and down the lines of the linoleum floor every day, whacking her with a paddle when the foot reverted to its old habits. She did this because she honestly thought that it would cure Emily of a bad habit. Emily still throws that foot in when she walks to this day. Another habit that she found annoying was one of Emily's defenses against a world in which she found little solace. Emily sucked her thumb. Carol attempted every cure known to man at the time. She anointed the offending thumbs with foul tasting liquids and wrapped them in bandages. Emily gave up her thumb sucking of her own accord at age eleven.
Often in the Blazek household, there was not enough food to go around. Emily awoke early one morning and slipped into the kitchen. She took three Fig Newton cookies and popped on into her mouth. Her brother, hearing her, came into the kitchen to investigate. David, her brother, told Carol, and Emily suffered the humiliation of having to wear diapers for the rest of the day. From that day forward, if she awoke hungry in the middle of the night, a common occurrence, she would sneak out to the kitchen where invariably the bean pot would still be soaking in the sink. She would scoop up the few remaining beans out of the dirty dishwater and furtively eat them.
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| Having Difficulty Here |
| 01.15.04 (3:38 pm) [edit] |
My stress level is redlined. I am having difficulties at work. My boss gets in these moods where everyone elses mistakes are monumental, and my fault too. Everything is my fault. If someone sends a letter to us, and it has a typographical error, somehow that becomes my fault.
Today one of our clients mother who passed away, sent me the wrong death certificate. So I tried to order a death certificate to save her the trouble. But I can't get it, because she did not die in this state. See - that is my fault too. I let her die in the wrong state.
I have this terrible pain between my shoulder blades. I cannot get rid of it. I am on the verge of bursting into tears. It is not just me either, his wife is having the same problem with him. It must be amazing to be perfect like him. Of course, when he makes a mistake, we just quietly fix it, now don't we.
I really really really hope that my case settles soon. Then I can tell him he has two weeks to find the next person to take the blame for the ineptitude of the world.
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| Proof - Positive |
| 01.13.04 (7:41 pm) [edit] |
I had this brilliant girl, a big cream Sharpei girl. When I say "brilliant" I mean appearance - not so much brains. Her name was Candy. A fellow show dog person decided that we would provide a good home for her and gifted me with her. Candy was a dreamlike dog. She had all the attributes that I looked for in the conformation ring
She had all the brains that G-d gave an oyster. But when her feet hit that mat, when the show collar and lead went around her neck, she was Miss America. I was totally unnecessary in the ring. She was ON. I showed that dog on a loose lead. It might as well have been dental floss.
Candy died from kidney failure. We tried everything. Several times.
I spent the last 12 hours of her life alternating between covering her shivering body and trying to cool her down. Her internal thermostat just failed. I helped her out of her corporeal form the following morning with the assistance of her veterinarian. It was difficult.
Later the next day, when I returned to work at Home Depot. I was informed that someone was trying to locate me. I was being followed around the store by a florist with a dozen roses.
The roses were from "my dogs". With them was a card, a premonition from my beloved Joseph, my darling husband, who was to die not long after. I did not know that then. Maybe he did.
The card read:
Never the spirit is born
The Spirit will cease to be never
Never the time when it was not.
Birthless and deathless and changeless
Remains the spirit forever.
Death has not touched it at all
Dead though the house of it seems.
Sioux prayer of passing.
It was signed by hand,
I love you, Joseph
I am looking at that paper, tears on my face. I read it every day..
I love you Joseph, I always will.
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| If this is Tuesday - It must be Dog School |
| 01.13.04 (7:28 pm) [edit] |
Lacy started VERY early to demand to go to school. I tell you, all that is required is that I put on tennis shoes.
She bugged me throughout dinner. She barked while I prepared the coffee pot for morning brew. She spinned and wagged and barked while I did dishes, and put away laundry. My request for her to look at her watch fell on deaf ears. The girl loves school. She loves working. She loves learning new things. We could all use a Lacy lesson. When you quit learning, they start shoveling the dirt on top of the box you are in.
The time came to leave. I was wearing a fashion nightmare. Running pants with elastic waist so I can tuck a treat or two in the waistband. Why? So that on that perfect FRONT where she is facing me exactly perpendicularly, I can flip down the waistband and pop a piece of liver directly to the target - her waiting mouth. Food as reward for desired behavior. What a novel approach.
90% of what I do is body language. Dogs read your face, your body. I must remember - must focus on smiling. Lacy is tuned in to my body, my movements, the position of a shoulder, the tone of my voice.
Consistency - critical. When I want her with me, I leave on the left foot. If she should stay, the right. Subtle cues to her, to me, the direction that becomes the choregraphy of our dance in the ring.
My new instructor is astoundingly good. She sees the nuances that send messages to my dog that are confusing. I wish for a partner that would share my passion. I would love to have someone videotape our work, so that I could see from a different angle all that goes on.
My new instructor introduced several new things to todays lesson. In and Out - we all lined up in heel position. The last dog/trainer began a heeling pattern doing sort of a figure 8 around us, until they reached the first dog. And then the new last dog repeated. Good heeling exercise, Good opportunity to work on attention from my dog. Imagine how distracting to have other dogs going around you, while you were supposed to pay attention to your mom/dad. Lacy is getting better on "watch me".
Left- Right - she stacked us up, began calling a heeling patttern that was left turn, right turn. We were square dancing with our dogs. Fun - good practice. We ran into the walll.
Down stay, sit stay with distractions. - Good plan- she broke them up with off lead heeling in between. She had us return, leave, go back half way, circle our dogs.... all so that the dog does not establish a pattern of when we will release them. Competition at this point is a 1 minute sit/stay and a 3 minute down stay. Dogs are natural clock watchers. If you return and cut them loose at 1 minute and three every time, you are guaranteed a dog that willl break the stay when they see fit.
My Lacy is AMAZING. She is strong - at this stage- on the stays, Stand for Exam, and is doing better on heeling. We are doing better than expected on the Recall. We are in need of work on the figure Eight and the return.
I could enter her and show her, and get her finished in a weekend. I am proud of her. I am proud of me. Returning to the obedience ring was not a baby step. It was a huge step toward choosing life, over merely existing.
Lacy gave me that gift. I had no choice but to take it. I am grateful to my Lacy, my big goofy girl.
Lacy has much to teach all of us. She gives love freely, with no expectation of return. Lacy is love incarnate.
She makes me think of my Candy.
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| The Book from 20 years ago. |
| 01.12.04 (5:03 pm) [edit] |
About a hundred years ago, I started a novel. I have dredged it out of a closet. Have yourself a good chuckle with my first attempt at romantic fiction.
Chapter One
There was no light, no action, just the sound. Like watching a television set with a broken picture tube. The ominous sound of breaking glass. Shattering and falling gently, tinkling like Japanese wind chimes. A feeling of terror, a mystery surrounded the recurring dream. Nothing led up to it and nothing occurred after. Just the crackling noise and the shattering glass falling. It had plagued Emily for months. Waking her, haunting her day and night when she attempted to analyze it to find the hidden meaning of it. She could not even determine exactly what was breaking, whether it was a goblet or window or perhaps even a windshield. Yet now the meaning was staring her straight in the face. The reason was as obvious as could be, and was in reality worse than the dream could ever have portrayed. It was her life that had shattered, falling around her feet like shards of broken glass.
The sound in her head was now replaced by a hundred doors slamming, reverberating off the walls in her brain along with the echoes of Jason's words. The words were the last he had spoken as he walked out of her life, apparently for the last time.
"I'm sorry, Emily, I just can't live with what you have done". He spat the words out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth to speak to her.
"Jason, you don't understand. Please listen to me. I can explain…"
"The hell you can. I loved you. I wanted to marry you. How could you" As far as I'm concerned, you're no better than a common whore".
With that he slammed the door behind him leaving Emily in an abyss of desperation. The tears coursed down her cheeks, seemingly of their own accord. She loved Jason so much she would gladly have laid down and died for him if it was necessary. He was the man who possessed the claim check to her heart. He was the man who now had walked flat out of her life. Just at the time in her life when she needed him most.
Then she cried from the sheer relief of knowing that what she had known all along was inevitable had finally come to pass. The truth was finally out and she was free. She lifted a crystal wineglass in a toast to the emptiness around her. The remaining wine soothed her aching throat in its descent. She strolled into the kitchen to refill the glass. Slithering back to the plush sofa, she curled up in a feline posture to contemplate the situation. Her long lean legs, the tanned lithe body, the large brown eyes all contributed to her catlike appearance.
Outside the sliding glass doors the sun sank into the sea casting orange and red shadows on the world. The view from the eighth floor condominium was magnificent. The Gulf of Mexico was Emily's backyard, providing her with a constantly changing seascape.
She had furnished the condo with an eclectic collection of furniture and objects d' art that were both functional and whimsical, like the flexible fish fashioned out of Mother of Pearl that graced a cocktail table along with a clay cat. The cat, flat as a paper doll, was a gift from Jason. The grass cloth covered walls were a showcase for a number of fine prints and pastels. One, a New York scene, she had done herself. It depicted the city from the water off Long Island and was predominantly misty blues and lilacs, making the World Trade Center appear to be the turret of a large castle surrounded by a misty fog.
She loved every wall of her home. Now the only problem was to figure out how to keep it. She had lost everything else that was important to her. It would be too much to lose her home.
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| Winter in the land of Pudlin |
| 01.11.04 (4:54 pm) [edit] |
I was just remembering.... something I do frequently. In winter, we would sit outside in the evening. We would fire up the outdoor fireplace. We put sweatshirts on the dogs. We drank gin and tonics while watching the travel channel. We dreamed of traveling to far off lands. Joseph would laugh at me and say that there was no way I would ever go to - whatever- that there was no place to plug in my makeup mirror, no way to keep my shoes clean. He was right. I am quite unhappy in less than clean surroundings and I get upset with poverty.
But I do miss those nights by the fire, smooching with my baby by the pool. If you only knew how much I miss that......
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| Sunday - All Day |
| 01.11.04 (3:58 pm) [edit] |
I went to my dear friend Carol's for brunch. Her neighbor's daughter was there. Michelle is here to try to figure out what to do about her mother, who is in a nursing home and not doing well. We don't expect her to be on this plane much longer.
Michelle is a retired ballerina. Really, a professional dancer for many years. Her mother's home is filled with photographs of her in various ballets. Truly beautiful. We looked in a small chest that belongs to her mother where many of her childhood dance costumes were carefully and lovingly stored.
After brunch, Carol and I talked and talked and talked. We have been friends for about 25 years. We have a lot of history. I have a very special connection with her son.
Then we went to dinner. We have one of those coupon books where you buy one entree and the second one is free. So for $14.00 including gratuity, I had a very nice meal.
I came home to find a message from the guy that he should have called earlier, that he wasn't feeling well and was going to lay low today. Good thing I didn't wait around for that call. So I called back, and told him a bit about my day and then said that I had things to do to be ready for tomorrow. He said he will call back in a little while. OK, or not. Either way.
I have things to do.
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| Sydney - Come on - my house |
| 01.10.04 (6:31 pm) [edit] |
Come on-a my house my house, I'm gonna give you candy
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give a you
Apple a plum and apricot-a too eh
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house I'm gonna give a you
Figs and dates and grapes and cakes eh
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you candy
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you everything
Come on-a my house my house, I'm gonna give you Christmas tree
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you
Marriage ring and a pomegranate too ah
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house I'm gonna give a you
Peach and pear and I love your hair ah
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house a come on
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you Easta-egg
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you
Everything - everything - everything
SPOKEN: Come on-a my house-a!
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| Chasing Amy - or : What do I want? |
| 01.10.04 (5:46 pm) [edit] |
Tonight I watched "All Over the Guy". Sweet movie. When it ended, I turned on the tv and it went to some movie with the woman who played Amy in Chasing Amy.
I crave her voice. She is stunning to look at.
What is it that I want? Do I want a boyfriend? If Sydney called and was nice and on occasion brought flowers: would that be what I want?
Sexually, I would like a partner. I know what is required to please me, don't need anyone else. That being said, it would be nice to have someone else there for the big event.
I have been reviewing past lovers. I think I screwed up on more than one.
But I think that I am exactly in the place and the time that I need to be right now.
I am sure of two things:
#1 I don't know where I am going, but I am on my way.
#2 There are two things I need to bear in mind. Where am I and what time is it. The answer is HERE and NOW.
I need to be present. Here and now. The rest will fall into place.
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| The Good, The Bad and the Ugly |
| 01.10.04 (3:00 pm) [edit] |
I have good news, bad news and some real ugly stuff. Which do you want first.
1. The good - I continue my quest for peace and spiritiual growth. Today I meditated myself right to sleep. This must mean I am getting better at shutting down the thoughts that are doing an imitation of a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
Also, I have completed repaying a debt. I had a wonderful time with Lacy this morning who was INSISTANT upon working in the crisp cold air. She was on her game, and flying around like a poodle on a mission to perform the commands as quickly and flashily as possible. I mean circus poodle returns.
Sissy called, and that is always a good thing. It indicates that it must be Saturday.
The bad - stooooopid move on my part. I knew as I was doing it it was stooooopid and at that exact second. Bam. I was trying to remove a price tag from a new garment with my teeth as I looked for scissors. You guessed it. Chipped my front tooth. Like I can afford a big dentist bill.
And that, my dear readers, is the ugly. That chip, and the overall appearance of my financial situation at the moment. Now, I tell you, I have been poor and I have had money. While it is true that money does not buy happiness, I can assure you that it makes misery much easier to deal with.
But in that even there is good news. I stand little chance of suffering from identity theft!
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| That Guy Called..... |
| 01.09.04 (6:28 pm) [edit] |
Previously on Hill Street Blues:
Your heroine went on a date. She reported back to you. You wanted to know if and when the guy in question called back.
The telephone rang. The caller id number was familiar. I took the call. Suffice it to say that it was some time ago. It appears that the guy wants to see yours truly again. As IF there was not enough of me present the first time.
He is so WRONG for me. He is Christian, Republican, is owned by a CAT.
I am Jewish, Democrat, and have multiple dogs.
I found myself grinning a good deal of the time I was talking to him. He was making fun of Howard DEAN. I fully intend to wear my DEAN for PRez shirt on Sunday when I next see Sydney.
What the heck! His name is Sydney! How can it be that it is not Sydney Lipschitz?
You, dear reader, you asked to be notified when the guy called. Sydney called. Film at eleven.
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| List of Things - 15, 10, 3, 1 years ago |
| 01.09.04 (6:19 pm) [edit] |
15 Years Ago, I:
1. I married the love of my life.
2. I went to see my father after not communicating for far too many years
3. I was the mother of a teenager.
4. I had a springer spaniel and 3 cats.
5. I went to a nudist resort for the first time
10 Years Ago, I:
1. I showed dogs in both the obedience and conformation ring
2. I had a Sharpei in the top ten obedience sharpei in the country
3. I anxiously awaited the birth of my eldest grandson
4. I was driving a Nissan Pulsar
5. I was working for Home Depot.
5 Years Ago, I:
1. I was retired from Home Depot
2. I redecorated our home.
3. I had tons of parties and dinner parties
4. I took singing lessons and went every Thursday to hear our friend John sing big band music.
5. I spent lots of time with my dear friend Paulie, who died of AIDS in August 1999.
3 Years Ago, I:
1. I was a widow of one year.
2. I was back in college working on my paralegal degree.
3. I filed a wrongful death suit against those who neglected my husband.
4. I found Lacy and bought her.
5. I was VERY thin.
1 Year Ago, I:
1. I was working for Michael.
2. I totally gave up any hope of ever dating.
3. I quit taking all the antidepressants and sleeping pills.
4. I finished Colin! Champion Colin! .
5. I made a bunch of quilts.
Yesterday, I:
1. I stayed home sick and slept most of the day.
2. I did some legal research.
3. I blogged.
4. I realized that my boss really does care about me and is genuinely a nice guy.
5. I watched some TV.
Today, I:
1. I went to work.
2. I mailed a parcel to my friend.
3. I went to Big Lots and found some fun stuff for me.
4. I hugged my dogs and they hugged me back.
5. I looked through a scrapbook that I did in the 1980's full of memories without bursting into uncontrollable sobbing.
6. I was cautiously optimisitic.
Tomorrow, I:
1. I have no idea what will happen.
2. I plan to work with Lacy on our return, heeling, and general stuff..
3. I plan to create at least one place of beauty in my home.
4. I will create something to give away..
5. I will give some stranger a random act of kindness and create senseless beauty..
5 Games I Like:
1. Scrabble
2. Mahhjong (really - what a shocker)
3. Hide and seek with the dogs
4. Backgammon (I play for BLOOD!)
5. Acey Deucy
5 Things I'd Buy With $10,000:
1. Poodles
2. A new kitchen
3. A new bathroom
4. New fencing
5. Turn the garage into a grooming area.
Top 5 Songs Lately- or always:
1. Amy Mann, any of her stuff.
2. Lucinda Williams - any of them.
3. Come on a my house, my house a c'mon
4. My Baby Just Cares for Me.
5. Moon River
3 Bad Habits I Have
1. Procrastination.
2. Assuming that it is MY fault.
3. Pessimism.
Interests at the moment:
1. POODLES!.
2. Getting through the murder trial of my expert witness.
3. Getting Lacy's remaining two qualifying scores for her Companion Dog title.
4. Getting organized.
TV Shows I Like:
1. Cell Dogs
2. CSI
3. King of the Hill
Places I've Lived (in THIS lifetime)
1. Altamonte Springs, Florida
2. Norton, Massachusetts
3. South Miami Heights, Florida
4. Port Charlotte, Florida
5. Punta Gorda, Florida
6. St. Petersburg, Florida
Places I've lived (in previous lifetimes)
1. Nazi Germany.
My Top Biggest Worries at the Moment:
1. Money
2. The trial
3. Not being there for my daughter and my dogs.
My Top Biggest Joys at the Moment:
1. Lacy getting her first qualifying score
2. That guy called.
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| My Brother's Visit - after death |
| 01.09.04 (12:40 pm) [edit] |
When I was sixteen, my brother died. The truth about how he died will never really be clear. My sister thinks that he was murdered. The official cause of death on the police report was "accidental gun shot". My family called it suicide, but we couldn't really wrap our brains around my beautiful brother turning a shotgun on his belly and pulling the trigger.
The end result, whether he pulled the trigger or someone else did, is that he died before he ever saw his 21st birthday, his wedding day, the birth of his first child, and the myriad of other things that bring joy to our lives.
He would have been 52 on January 3rd. He is forever young. He was my hero, my brother, my friend. Although he has been dead for thirty years, not a single day passes that I don't remember him.
He visited me one time, shortly after he died. I was resting in my bed. I was alone in my apartment. I felt a presence, a weight as if someone had sat on the edge of the bed. I did not want to move for fear that he would leave if I made it known that I knew he was there. He put his hand on my shoulder. Just a small comforting gesture. And then he was gone.
My sister gets visits from him in dream state. She dreamt that he was in a nice house with our grandmother. That he has a girlfriend, that he is fine and happy and watching over us.
Those that have left this life before us do watch over us. They do communicate with us. I am sure of it. I just need to remain tuned in to the subtle communications. I have to trust my instincts. I must rely on my intuitions.
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| Near Death Experiences |
| 01.08.04 (4:16 pm) [edit] |
My father had a near death experience. He drove one of those trucks that haul cars for a living. He drove all over the country. He was driving a load of cars to car lots in Massachusetts in some very heavy snow and ice. It was winter, very cold. He had to climb up on the top of the top layer of cars to adjust the straps that hold the cars securely. He slipped and fell off the truck onto the pavement below.
He said that he could see himself, lying on the ground, blood forming a pool beneath his head. He was above the scene, watching from where he had fallen moments before. He said that the saw a stranger come over and put a folded jacket beneath my father's head. Dad was able to see the whole scene unfolding before him. He saw the hospital, where they treated him. It was like watching a movie. He felt no pain. He was not cold. But he was very aware that his body was in trouble, and that he was separated from it.
Just as quickly as it began, he found himself back in his body. He recovered and shared with me his story. I believe him. He died several years after telling me. I think that he told me to prepare me for the loss of my beloved. By knowing that the soul does leave the body, and is aware of the events surrounding the death, I think I was better able to cope. I am sure that we were together before. I am just as sure that we will be together again.
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| Giving and Loving and Giving some More |
| 01.07.04 (6:40 pm) [edit] |
Someone I love has medical issues. Is on the way to see if maybe some other doctor might be the answer. I am hoping and praying and wishing.
My thoughts: through meditation? My friend, we can make you whole again. It will require faith and hoping and wishing on your part. I think that in a previous lifetime something happened. I don't dare wonder what that thing was. I just think that if we knew, we might find a solution to the ailments this time.
But I might be totally wet.
I don't think I am.
Wishing and hoping and praying for my friend.
sofp
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| Visits With Yummies |
| 01.07.04 (6:29 pm) [edit] |
Some days I make the dogs work for treats. Some days -not so much. Today- they got treats for the utter cuteness of merely existing.
Yummies to yummies. That is my theory.....
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| A Tiny Little Gift |
| 01.07.04 (5:42 pm) [edit] |
I started a blog
and the blog became me.
I found that there were those with whom I related.
As much as they read what I had to say, I was interested in the day to day passages of their lives.
Over the holidays, when I was unable due to time and financial constraints, it became clear to me, I think of those that I love all year. I endeavored to begin sending something to those who are important to me more frequently.
I want to be remembered when I leave this particular life, as someone who was a good friend, a person who was kind. I want to be thought of as sharing love. Unconditional, love. Pure unconditional love.
I decided that I would focus on one of the people who had become important to me- that I would send via snail mail a small token of my affection.
This evening it is a few note cards that I have embossed. I truly hope that the recipeint knows how much I was thinking of him/her as I embossed these little cards.
Then again, maybe they are not all that..... too bad... they get mailed in the morning. If I were to get such a gift. ...
I REALLY hope S/He likes them. If not, send them back. I think someone else might.
mucho hugs.
SofP
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| A Fish Called POODLE |
| 01.06.04 (7:56 pm) [edit] |
Several months ago, I became aware of these extraordinary fish called Bettas. And this truly extraordinary person whose blog was called Flaring who bred these fishies.
I kiddingly told her, every time that she posted a photo of a tiny fry (that is what they call baby fishies) that it was POODLE!
She posted photographs of these babies - there would be hundreds of tiny dots visible. I would say "oh look! There is POODLE!"
She waited until one of them demonstrated that they were going to be the biggest, flashiest of the fishies. She named him POODLE. I am so very jazzed.
He is blue with red fin tips. From what I understand, he is shy. This is ok, he just needs some confirmation that he is indeed beautiful and breathtaking.....
I am so very honored. POODLE!!!!!
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| Fine Tuning MY Performance |
| 01.06.04 (6:32 pm) [edit] |
Tonight was first night of new dog school class. The instructor is incredible. She seems to pick up on every detail. While it would be easy to think that she was being overly picky, in truth she is trying to help me shave penalty points off my score. She is fine tuning MY performance. My foot work is always something I can improve upon. The dog reads our body language. That is most of the cues that they get to perform the synchronized dance that is the obedience competition. If I am consistant in my footwork, then my dog won't be second guessing me in an attempt to try to keep up.
I have a feeling that as tough as this new instructor is, that she will have a wonderful impact on our performance. I look forward to working with her very much. I can already tell a difference in our left returns.
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| The Fun- O- Meter Project. |
| 01.05.04 (6:53 pm) [edit] |
As a society, what we need to accomplish, is to find for each of us, our Fun - O - Meter.
That thing that sends us over the top. That thing that grips our trigger, makes our pantyhose do pushups, causes our usually benign countenence to split into ear to ear grins.
For me - it is dogs. Paws down. Dogs. They give back way more than they can ever take from us. We can learn from them so much about unconditional love, sacrifice, and the gift of loving without any expectation of a return on investment.
For others it might be something different. I would challenge you, and I would love to know what it is, that sends your Fun - O - Meter into the Red Line area. What is your passion? What rocks your world? What is it that makes you think - this is why I was born into this body at this time.
I am interested to hear. I anxiously await the response(s). What redlines your fun - o - meter?
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| Lacy and I begin Again |
| 01.05.04 (6:25 pm) [edit] |
The occassional poodle post:
Lacy and I are a team and we compete in obedience trials in Florida. I have been owned by Lacy for - WAIT- she has a birthday coming up January 11th - for her FOURTH birthday. Last year as a flea year old, we picked up her first leg toward her Companion Dog title after only about six weeks of training.
Over the holidays, my dog club kind of takes a break. Tomorrow- back to school. Previously, we went to school on Wednesday evenings. Lacy knows Wednesdays. She is excited on Wednesday MORNINGS. Our routine has changed because of the holidays.
I am looking very forward to tomorrow. Lacy will be surprised and excited. You must understand: Lacy's cue is that I change from work shoes to running shoes. Lacy sees a running shoe - she gets all verklempt. You will find her in the vicinity of any car with her own lead in her mouth.
In the event that you think that dogs don't enjoy working with their mom or dad - maybe I should take a picture of Lace preparing to break into the car if she does not think I am moving quickly enough.
So tomorrow we begin- new set of challenges, new instructor. The excitement builds.
With each dog, different challenges I face as a trainer. With each dog, the wins are sweet and memorable. There is no feeling in the world for me that is better than taking a dog that I have trained to be part of our team into a ring and competing. There is no better feeling than becoming part of that team. Helping them to meet the expectations. Seeing how hard they try to fulfill their part.
Having the judge hand me that ribbon - times three- those ribbons that belong to that dog......
I love my dogs. They give me more than I could ever expect from any human. They give it the way I want to give of myself, freely, lovingly, and without any expectation of any reward.
My dogs are my life. Lacy and I begin again tomorrow. I am Jazzed.
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| My First Date |
| 01.05.04 (5:09 pm) [edit] |
My First Date
As you may recall, when we last left our heroine, she was preparing to break out in a stress rash and hyperventilating. Worst of all, she is me.
I did the Mary Kay Satin Hands thing on feet and hands. Sister of SofP is a Mary Kay person. But I digress. I went crazy and put hot rollers in my hair. I did a reasonable job on the face paint. I added precisely two drops of Diana Fish' secret Love Potion that she gave me. She swears that I will have a solid boyfriend going before she leaves this life.
Diana gave me this bottle of stuff. She says that it has special powers. She says that she has talked to my angel, who is a Greek woman called Athena. Diana is one of our clients. She is approaching eighty. I love her dearly. I also believe that she does communicate with those who have gone before. But I digress even more.
I arrived at the Holiday Inn at the same time that Sydney did. Sydney. (I forgot to ask his last name!)
He gave me a broad smile. He is 5'9" and slender. He has salt and pepper hair and a finely trimmed moustache. He has amazing molten caramel coloured eyes. He is not difficult to look at. We went into the bar area and he asked if I would mind if he watched the last couple of minutes of overtime of a football game. Of course I said it was fine.
The game ended, Green Bay won and we began talking. And talking. And talking. Another game began and he said, "listen, do you mind if we go outside? I find that the game is distracting and I want to hear what you have to say." I swear. He said it.
He was exceedingly polite. At one point, he said "enough about me, I want you to tell me about you." I swear. He said it.
He has an infectious laugh. He got up and excused himself from the table to go blow his nose. He held doors.
We went outside. I asked him how he felt about what was going on in Iraq. I was surprised to hear his answer. He said that he didn't feel that if you were not in the White House, if you were not privy to the information that was coming in, that it would be inappropriate to criticize the president. I must have looked stricken. I did respect that he had an opinion and that he felt he didn't have enough information, but I also expressed that I was of a differing opinion. But without being rude about it.
We walked around the grounds and visited with bunnies! These bunnies were very tame, and thoroughly adorable. You must understand that the grounds are on the Gulf of Mexico. It is a beautiful place. Tropical plants, the ocean, bunnies, and a nice looking man chatting with me.
After awhile I felt that it was time to end it. Even though part of me wanted to continue to hang around for longer. I thought that it was wise. So I said that I was going to go. He walked me to my car. He asked if he could hug me. We hugged. It felt wonderful. I told him so. We continued hugging for what seemed like a long time. Then he asked if he could call me again. I said that I hoped that he would. I meant it.
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| HE SAID TO BE CREATIVE! |
| 01.05.04 (1:19 pm) [edit] |
So boss dude told me to put together a letter to Federal Tax Judges who will be judging the National Moot Court Tax competition that we are co chairing. I did just that. Here is my letter:
January 5, 2004
The Honorable Name Redacted
United States Tax Court
Washington, DC 20217
RE: 2004 National Tax Moot Court Competition
Dear Judge Redacted,
Enclosed is the highly confidential, anxiously awaited and super top secret bench brief. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to read it, commit it to memory, and burn it in your backyard gas grill.
I look forward to seeing you soon.
Please feel free to contact us if you require additional information. Thank you.
Best Regards,
WON'T TELL LAW FIRM, P.A.
Boss Dude, Esq.
BD/sch
Enclosures
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| First Meeting (NOT going to call it a date) |
| 01.04.04 (12:07 pm) [edit] |
So - the guy called back. The guy that I spoke to on the telephone 18 months ago. They guy that called, out of the blue the night before last.
We are meeting at 4:30 for coffee.
I am a nervous Nellie. I am doing my level best figuring out some reason to not go.
I almost did something REALLY stupid. I was thinking about eating some lunch - and nearly grabbed the Roasted Tomato and GARLIC sauce that I made for dinner last night. YIKES!
I have given myself a pedicure and a manicure. I am not getting all crazy dressed up. This is coffee on a Sunday afternoon fer cryin' out loud.
I will be delivering a full report later.
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| 99 Days Left |
| 01.04.04 (7:07 am) [edit] |
My husband died because the doctors in charge decided to not do surgery on his heart for 17 hours. What should have been emergency surgery. He never made it passed the surgical preparation the night before.
I am suing them - the surgeon and the cardiologist for a wrongful death action. It has been almost four years since I walked into my attorney's office.
Four years of sitting in rooms with upwards of 15 suits grilling me about the most intimate details of my life both before and after. It has, at times, seemed like I was on trial.
There have been a number of continuances, with the opposing counsel attempting to put time and distance between the events and my testimony. Hoping against hope that I would remarry in the interim so that they could mitigate the damages.
I have refused to cooperate with their wishes. My focus, for the past four years has been, and will continue to be, to hold their feet to the fire. I want them to explain to a jury why they chose not to do the myriad of things that they should have done, could have done, that would have saved my husband's life.
As recently as November of last year, they sent supplemental interrogatories to me. They asked for a list replete with names and addresses of any man or woman that I had dated or seen socially, along with the nature of the relationship in the past twelve months. It was a very very short list that they got back. I am certain that there were some plumbing words spoken when they read that I have been celebate. That I really don't date. That I had dinner with one of our clients one time. He is a nice man. I think he is in his seventies. He is a widower, and lonely. I can relate.
So there has been a stipulation agreed to by all parties that we go to trial the week of April 12. The judge has entered the order that we WILL go to trial then. There are to be no further delays.
There are 99 days between then and now. Also, 99 nights that I hope the good doctors are using to examine their consciences and concluding that yes, indeed, they should have done a lot of things differently. That they denied my husband any chance of survival. That they will never act in such a cavalier fashion if any other person presents with similar symptoms.
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| Death - Being there |
| 01.03.04 (9:24 pm) [edit] |
I have a very good friend - gone nigh on to 5 years now. His name was Paul. He died of AIDS. We were friends for a long time.
I was gifted with the chance to be a part of his life in 1995 or so. When we met, I knew he was HIV positive.
I was gifted with the chance to spend the last of his days with him. My sweet Paulie took one last trip, brought me silly things from the desert in Arizona. We took walks. We took photos. We planned a book of stupid crap tourist places that would never be seen.
I loved him. He asked me to get some obscure flavor of GatorAid. I tried. I stood in a grocery aisle crying llike a baby because they did not have "Arctic Ice". I got the next best flavor. I held his head over the sink when he puked. I held him while his wracked small body puked up the small nutrition I offered. I suffered. Not nearly like he did..
I took him to see his doctor. I asked that he wait in the car. I went in, asked for a wheelchair. I asked for help. We never came home. I loved him.
They gave me a wheelchair. I went to get him. I brought him to the doctors office. She checked him into the hospital. I never left him.
I prayed that he would be granted peace. That his body that had betrayed him would grant him solace.
It was difficult.
I loved him. I love him. I was there when he left this existence.
I know this: we celebrate life- we should celebrate death. My friend Paul died being wrapped with love. My friend Paul died not being alone. My friend Paul, I loved him. I love him.
Paulie, that cow in front of the dairy? Not so much any more. Paulie? I feel your influence every day. I love you.
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| Good Friends, Old Friends |
| 01.03.04 (9:06 pm) [edit] |
It has been a very busy day. In the morning, I put away the Hannukah decorations and dishes and brought out the Valentines Day decorations. I insist on keeping holidays an important part of my life, even if I am likely to be the only person who sees that I went to the effort. The poodles really don't get involved in the housework and decorating around here. They are part of it.
After the shifting that defines the advancing cycle of the year, I began the bathing and grooming. My mother, whose yarzheit was January 2, left behind an aged Llaso Apso. He stays with friends. But annually, he comes for an extended visit here. He needed a good thorough bath. He got his, and then Lacy's turn. After her bath and blow dry, she got a haircut. She looks adorable. I am getting better.
Then my dear friend Carol showed up and we went to Pier One outlet to look for a desk. Carol and I have been friends since 1976.
She asked me to cook again, the dinner I last created for her. I was honored to recreate - from the most wonderful cookbook gifted to my by my beloved Joseph : Thai Cowboy Steaks with Roasted Chile and Tomato topping accompanied by coconut Jasmine rice, and a beautiful garlic bread. I did a french/wax bean to accompany.
I so love cooking for friends and family. I miss that so much. Joseph was smiling upon me as I peeled garlic, chopped shallot.
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| TBlog Thoughtfulness |
| 01.03.04 (6:10 am) [edit] |
I give Rocky and any other Tblog staff big kudos for the menorah and tree on each side of the tblog inkblot logo.
Nice sentiment.
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| Send Me someone |
| 01.02.04 (7:01 pm) [edit] |
Send me Someone
My name is Trisha. I was married for 14 years to my darling, the man of my dreams. His name was Joseph. He died very young, on the way home from work. He was a firefighter. His life was ripped away from me by a woman eating an ice cream cone who went through a red light. It happened that fast. Red light. Bad decision. My life, and his, as we knew it, gone.
Joseph was 46, a very healthy, virile, wonderful 46. We had both been married before. We had both been astounded by the depth, breadth and width of the love we found for each other. We were profoundly and deeply in love. We were the kind of couple that people see, and want to emulate. We were admired by they who wanted what we had and loathed by those in troubled relationships.
We knew that we had been together before. I would gaze into those cerulean blue eyes, his long hair hanging down each side of my face, and know that we had loved before and would love again. His chest, his shoulders, his hips. I knew his body better than I knew my own. He would be above me, loving me, and I would be in his eyes. And he mine. It was as if we knew our time together was limited, and we hung on every inch of it.
And then he was taken from me.
For years, I mourned. For at least four years, I was a zombie. Trapped in a world that refused to release me to reunite with he whom I loved more than life itself. It was not for a lack of trying. I sincerely did. I tried "dating". I was a huge failure at it.
I began to realize that there was a connection between Joseph and I that transgressed death. I would find that I needed something, a toilet plunger - that he would know very well the location. I never needed that information when he was here. He kept this place running like a finely tuned piano. It played Pachebel's Canon in D.
I would stand in the garage - tears streaming down my face, asking him for help. "Joseph, where is the toilet plunger?"
Nothing. I would go back into the house. A few minutes later, as if pulled by forces beyond my ability to comprehend, I would return to the garage. Above my head, crosshatched stud beams - and the toilet plunger. So romantic was the communication between my passed beloved and I. I swear to you that it happened just like this.
I came to a better understanding of our new relationship. It required an inordinate amount of faith and trust on my part. That we had been together before and that we would be together again. And I began talking to Joe in a different way. I began to understand that what he had left here, the toolboxes and Beatles albums and books and clothes, were not important to him. What was important, was me. Our love for each other. Our life together.
While I understood, or tried to understand that he was waiting for me, regrouping, resting, watching over me, I knew that just as well as I knew that he loved me, he does not intend for me to finish my days alone. So I began asking him to send me someone.
The telephone rang today. It was a man I had spoken to eighteen months ago. He opened the conversation with "Trisha, you probably won't remember me…. "
We spoke for better than two hours.
Maybe, just maybe….. and does this not prove, beyond any question, my Joseph's love for me?
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| The Small Gifts |
| 01.01.04 (7:45 am) [edit] |
Recently, it occurred to me that there are many people in my life that I would like to send a small gift and a handmade card especially for them.
Each year around the holidays, I make myself crazystressedout trying to do too many things for too many people. I want to give everyone handmade ornaments for their tree. I want to bake 46 different kinds of cookies and give them all away. I want to make cards, and mini scrapbooks, and bookmarks of counted cross stitch for all of my friends. But every year, no matter what, it does not all get done.
So I decided that I would gift my friends one at a time. Just little things... a note, a calendar, a card. But I want to address each friendship individually and savor the time spent making the gift while thinking about how the recipient will feel when they open the mailbox on the second week of March and find an ornament for their next Christmas tree.
And that, is my New Years resolution. That each week, I will send a piece of mail - maybe just a note - but each week, I will send a thought to a friend via snailmail.
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| New Year's Eve Dinner from Thailand |
| 01.01.04 (7:39 am) [edit] |
My dear friend Carol came for dinner last night. I used a cookbook that I am very fond of, The best of Vietnamese and Thai Cooking by Mai Pham - Favorite Recipes from Lemon Grass Restaurant.
The menu:
Thai Cowboy Steak with roasted Tomato - chili Sauce
Warm Vegetables on cool noodles
Spicy Thai Cucumber Salad.
It was a very nice way to spend an evening. I love to cook, but only if I have an audience. I am so delighted that
Carol and I have been friends for 26 YEARS. We had a chance to REALLY talk, dinner was great, and all is well.
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