Melancholy

I miss Christmas. I miss spending time looking for the perfect present – hoping it was perfect, anyway – and the look of joy when someone opened a package and delighted that I knew what to get for them.

My brother in law loved chocolates. I bought him home made chocolates from a lady who made them in her kitchen and sold them from her home. They were amazing – and not terribly expensive – and he loved them. I told him that Emily Post said that if someone gives you something like that, you don’t have to share it, you just have to mention it when gifts are shown around – as they always were in my family. “What did you get?” “ohhhhh! that’s so cool!” He opened the box of candy with great delight, tucked it under his chair and would bring it out whenever anyone new came around, saying, “Susan gave me these” and tucking the box back under the chair without offering anyone a sample.

It annoyed my sister no end. It made me laugh, and it’s a memory that’s made me smile today.

My mother made chocolate covered creams every year. It was a three day process, and she loved it. Everyone looked for those candies every year – I ate my fill while she was making them, looking totally innocent and proclaiming that someone had to make sure they tasted as good as last year’s batch!

We spent days wrapping. Christmas Eve always saw the frantic rush to sew on buttons, cast off that last stitch, sew that last seam because it seemed like a really good idea to make that something last week, and now the hours are counting down.

We spent the day traveling – brunch with one sister, then back home to unload the car because THAT sister loved to shop and loved to give presents and there would so much to bring home. Reload the car and off to the next sister, who had so little that her kids sometimes didn’t have a gift till we arrived.

The oldest sister was last. She had no Christmas spirit, and could suck the joy out of the day for everyone else. One year she put up an artificial tree in a spare bedroom so she could shut the door and not look at it when no one was around. The Grinch had nothing on her. Still, I gave her presents. I made her placemats one year – she used them till they wore out and even though she didn’t express any gratitude, the sight of them on her table made me smile, because maybe just once, I did something that pleased her. It happened very rarely.

“Just give me money,” is the refrain of the last few years. It saddens me. I have so many things that I hold, and look at, and remember who took the time to choose that just for me. I have turtle necks that my sister bought for me and I still remember how we laughed the day we went shopping and she bought them without me knowing they were for me. I have a small glass bottle, with a tiny ceramic pig inside, that one of my nephews gave me – it makes me think of him every time I move it, and I remember the year he gave it to me. “A pig in a bottle?” “Yes, Auntie, you NEED a pig in a bottle!” And so I have one.

Will they someday look at a one hundred dollar bill and think, “wow, I remember the year I got that for Christmas! It was awesome, I spent it all at Starbucks!”

Sadness, melancholy, missing days that were sweeter, and simpler, and more joyful – and trying not to ruin what’s left of the day for others.

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May the Angels sing you home

I’m not sure you believed in them, but that doesn’t matter. As if Christmas wasn’t already a time of sadness this year, word comes that someone I loved for many a long year, has suddenly died.

No warning, no time to say goodbye, no last “I love you.” Just a phone call, “I have bad news.” Tears falling all day, reaching out to those who’ve been estranged, finding common ground in shared grief – is the only good thing to come of this.

It won’t last, but for now, we hurt together. I may not make the funeral, traveling to NY at this time of year is not the best of ideas – between snow and holiday traffic, it will probably be a nightmare. And the Bear doesn’t want me to go. My heart wants to be there, but my brain is saying to think it over – no one will hold it against me. (Well, they probably will, but they’ll fake it unless they’re talking when I’m not there, and then I won’t know and won’t care.)

The tears continue to fall, as they have so often this year. January has long been the month I feared. And then February – a month of snowstorms that lock us into our house, with a driveway that’s impassible, the chance of losing power and the constant stress of forecasters screaming about the end of the world unless we all stock up on toilet paper. Max got sick in February this year. I knew – even as my mind denied it – my heart knew he would be gone by the end of the year, by summer. I knew. March brought appointments with the vet, chemo, watching him try so hard to stay with me and just being so tired. He left us in April.

May brought Maverick. The one happy event this year, surrounded by the anniversary of my father’s death, and my mother’s birthday, a reason to smile again.

June brought Maverick home – and brought sleepless nights and worry and crazy puppy antics and more worry and tears and missing Max and loving this bundle of energy who has no idea that he isn’t the first and best dog to ever live in this house.

But there was sadness still – friends who lost parents, diagnoses of strange diseases, loved ones aging and failing.

Days pass, we think they’re infinite. We think we have forever to do the things we want, and to call tomorrow, say we’re sorry, talk it out, “go there.”
Then the phone rings, and there are no more tomorrows and no more chances and was it worth it to hold onto that anger for so long?

My niece hasn’t spoken to me in several years. I don’t know why. I told her brother to give her a hug, and that I hoped that maybe she could let things go, that whatever was the problem could be resolved. He told me not to count on it.

Another thing to think about – if she doesn’t want me at the funeral, what do I do? Does her misplaced anger deny me the chance to comfort my sister, my nephew, my great nephews and great niece?

And in all this, will the man who was my friend, and my big brother, be forgotten? I will remember him, and tell the stories, and pray that the angels sang him home – and that he’s having a beer with Poppa, or maybe a few.

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When you’re out of Biofreeze

and he decides it’s a good time to jump all over you.   

Today I had a bone density test.   Way to make a girl feel old!    Apparently, when you reach a “certain age,”  you have to get all sorts of body parts checked to see if they’re still working.  At least this test wasn’t invasive, I just had to lay on a table while a thingie slowly scanned me from top to bottom.   I suspect I’ll be told that I need some fancy drug because that’s what doctors do, prescribe tests and then tell you you need fancy, expensive drugs so the drug companies can justify the gazillions of dollars they spend telling you that you need to “ask your doctor about this wonder drug with side effects that will make you shit your pants every time you fart, but you’ll feel amazing – except that you’ll probably need to take another drug to combat that shitting your pants thing, and that one will make you pee yourself every time you stand up, but it’s okay, we have yet ANOTHER drug for that !”  

God Bless Medicare.   Trust me, you do NOT want Medicare for everyone   Nope, nope, nope.   Sigh

Maverick got groomed today.  He looks wonderful.  He was very worn out from this experience, but being Maverick, he didn’t crash till around 10.  He then woke up full of piss and vinegar and decided that he would try to steal the pillows off the bed, and if that wasn’t gonna work, he would chew them, and if that wasn’t gonna work, he would just jump on me.   Every bone in my body now hurts.  I’m out of Biofreeze, so my heating pad will have to do.   

The pain gives me an acceptable reason for my tears.  I don’t have to explain that Christmas hurts this year.   That my heart is still so broken that tears are always close.   I can just say it’s my back – and not my heart.

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The Monster Outside

It’s 1:30 in the morning and Maverick has decided that there’s a monster outside.   This monster will only be defeated by loud and continuous barking.    Nothing will convince him otherwise.   

Giving in to the incessant barking, because my husband was about to go ballistic,  I took Maverick out to prove that there was nothing out there.   It’s a bit difficult to remain calm and steady when my brain is going, “well, he’s barking like the hounds of hell are at the doorstep, are you SURE there’s nothing out there?”   

I live in the woods.  It’s most likely deer – last night when I took Maverick out, I saw one in the clearing – seemingly standing guard.   It had been a craptastic day with Maverick, he was in high teenager mode – “I will do what I want and you can’t stop me!” – all day, including an hour long barkathon in the evening.   Seeing the buck standing there in all his majesty, just watching us, felt like a sign that everything is okay, that we’ll be okay, that this teenage nonsense won’t last and we’ll come through it better and stronger.   

It was a sign I badly needed.    My nerves were shot, anxieties and inadequacies were causing tears of self recrimination and the sure knowledge that I was incapable of raising this puppy.   It gave me renewed determination to face today with a different attitude, to rejoice in his nonsense instead of giving in to frustration.   

We had an awesome day.   We walked with little pulling, no yanking the arms out of their sockets, more than one cuddle time, and a renewed joy.  Joy is hard to find most days since Max went to the Bridge.   That aching grief has never lifted its grip from my heart.   Today Maverick made me smile, and laugh, and it was a good day.

That ended with the hounds of hell at my doorstep.   I believe we’ve been saved for the night.   I believe we’ll start tomorrow with the full intention of making it the best day we can, and try to find a way to keep the hounds of hell from waking the neighbors in the middle of the night.  

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Oh Little One, must you scare the Mommah?

Maverick and I went to visit our favorite doctor today – he has a “something” on his foot and Mommah worries.   I thought it was a tick but it’s not going away, he’s licking and it’s red and it looks like a sore button so the appointment was made and off we went.   

Dr. Dave treated Max almost from the beginning, we’ve never gone to another practice and never will.   He treats all the animals as if they were his own.   When it was time for Max to leave us, my husband said that he knelt and prayed before giving Max the shot that would release him.   I asked, when it was done, “is he gone?” and his response was, “Max is in Heaven now.”   

He was incredibly kind all through the last days of Max’s life.  I trust him with Maverick.  I know that he knows my quirks and worries and won’t laugh at me, but will make sure that I know all is well with my baby.  

So examination revealed something called a hystiocytoma.    A WHAT????????   It’s a benign “tumor.”   Phew.   There is a chance of secondary infection because someone will not stop licking it, so a shot of cortisone was administered, and antibiotics and that amazing yellow cream called Anamax was applied.    

Cortisone shots cause intense thirst and equally intense peeing.   Oh, dear heavens, run to the door and not the rug!    Oh well, rugs can be cleaned.   

It should be cleared up in a couple of weeks.   Let it be so.  

Posted in dogs, Maverick, my life, puppies | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Mob mentality and public shaming

I got slammed on Facebook for saying this.     Someone posted a picture of a license plate with the caption,” Share the hell out of this!   This bitch didn’t stop for a bus and this needs to go viral!”   

I’m not defending the person who didn’t stop for a school bus with flashing red lights.  I may not like kids but that doesn’t mean I think it’s okay to fly past a stopped school bus because you’re in a hurry, putting the lives of the little rats in danger.   

I stated that clearly.   What I said was, “Is anyone else bothered by the public shaming and the mob mentality that follows?”   Apparently I am not only the only person bothered by it, I am worse than pond scum for even considering that maybe this is not a wise choice.    

Are we so unaware or so naive, that we don’t realize that someone could track down that person and show up at her home?    Do you want to be responsible for that?   Does the driver need to be punished for her stupidity?  Hell yeah!  If one of my grandkids got hurt because someone couldn’t be bothered to wait 5 seconds for a bus, I’d be raining hell fire and brimstone on someone’s ass.   

And THAT is exactly why this kind of thing worries me.    I wouldn’t go to such lengths as to find someone whose information was posted like this.  But maybe someone else would.    Are we so intent on being self righteously angry – HOW DARE YOU DO THIS???????????   I AM SUPERIOR AND WILL SMITE YOU AND AND MAKE SURE EVERYONE IN THE WORLD KNOWS YOU MADE A MISTAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! – that we’re willing to ruin a life?

Flashback to Judge Kavanaugh – I guess we’ve answered that question.  

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When you think you can’t and find out you can

One of my friends is heavily involved in Greyhound rescue and has been for years.    Last week, the voters in Florida chose to ban greyhound racing.    The implications of this decision are far reaching.   I won’t go into the lies that were told by PETA and HSUS to get this bill passed, or the blindness of those who believe them.    The result of this decision is that thousands, (yes, thousands, probably around 15,000) dogs will need homes in the next two years.   A good year was when 1000 dogs were placed.

I was very upset when I learned this bill had been passed.   My friend posted on facebook, and I told her I could make “belly bands.”  Basically these are diapers for the dogs to wear till house trained.   I’ve made them before, and I’m willing to make them again.

We talked in message.   She said that foster homes will be a desperate need, but without a fenced in area, I can’t do that part.   BUT, I thought, I know someone who can, and I also know someone who already fosters and works in rescue.    Within minutes I had connected my friends.

A few days later, a group has been formed and a sewing party planned.   There are also people with the ability to transport dogs.

I am amazed at how fast this came together.   Some days, I have little hope for the future of the world, little faith in the kindness of others.   This has been a blessing to me as well as to the dogs we’ll help.

I’ve never been part of something like this.  I am truly awed at the outpouring of goodness, in just a few days.

 

So…………..if you can help at all, contact your local greyhound rescue – or any rescue (not the ASPCA, they’re a bunch of crooks) and ask what you can do.   15,000 dogs will thank you.

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Judged

I’ve thought about this all day.   I shouldn’t have let it bother me, but it keeps coming back to me.

Thousands of people marching across a border is not a caravan, it’s an invasion.   I don’t invite strangers into my home, I lock my doors, why is it wrong to keep my country as safe as I do my home?   A cousin pretty much told me I was a heartless bitch because I feel this way.    I’ve known her since she was born.   She’s known ME since she was born.   She’s so blinded by her hatred, hatred that is based on lies and half truths she’s been fed by the media, and which she never questions, that she’s willing to insult someone who had cared about her all her life.

She said she didn’t mean to hurt my feelings but I shouldn’t judge if I don’t want to be judged.

I’ve put her on my restricted list and she won’t see any of my future posts.   I would like to unfriend her, but I don’t want to cause family drama.

It’s a cluster and that’s that.

Posted in family, my life, politics | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Leashes, walks, and other fun stuff

I learned several things this past week.

First, don’t try to walk the puppy when you’re pissed off.   I was not pissed at the puppy, I was just pissed and took a walk to not be pissed.   Saturdays are days that I usually don’t go to the park because it’s just too damned peopley.    Maverick is still jumping up to greet people, and snapping at anything that dangles in front of him.   So when I tell you to not lean over him with your happy little cord hanging there from your headphones, and you do it anyway, don’t jump back squealing when he does exactly what I told you he was going to do.

I had the loop on his leash on my left wrist, wrapped it around my right hand to get a better grip, as we were going through a section where there were a lot of people and other dogs.   A leaf was my downfall.   Almost, but not quite, literally my downfall.    He went for the leaf and my hand went down with him, pulling the leash tight around it like a noose.    I wear lots of rings.   I thought the pain I was feeling was from the rings digging into the adjacent fingers.    After telling myself that I WILL NOT CRY IN PUBLIC, and we had walked several feet further, I looked at my hand and realized that my knuckle was the size of a golf ball and the swelling was moving to my wrist.  Oh, joy, let’s go home and find some ice!

It’s a lovely shade of purple, but the swelling is gone, mostly.    The doctor says it’s sprained and I should let it rest.  The same doctor who came in and shook my hand, yes, THAT hand.   Sigh.

We took the week off for my hand to mostly heal, and headed to the little park today.   Well, one of these days he’ll walk nicely, but that was not today.   I did a tarot reading for myself and Maverick – the two cards that resonated were “courage” and “perseverance.”  This is my mantra when we walk now.

He’s a master at “spin” though!

 

Also, I learned that when someone asks you to do a favor, you’re probably gonna wish you had said no.  AND, if you don’t want an active puppy, don’t get one, and then decide she needs to be rehomed.    People make me so angry.

 

I learned that I shouldn’t be allowed in Hobby Lobby because, well, yarn and fabric.    And there is way too much junk in my craft room, but the cleansing has begun.    Trash bags are my best friend.    Why oh why did I keep all those little tiny pieces of fabric, what my mother would call “alley jigglets?”   (I have no idea why she called them that)

If you don’t see me for awhile, I’m either face down at the park, or buried in a sea of alley jigglets in the craft room!

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Colds and blahs

I don’t like Fall.   Yeah, yeah, yeah, pumpkin spice

I like pumpkin pie.   Mostly I like pumpkin pie because I really like whipped cream.   I make a pie for Thanksgiving and eat one slice, send the rest home with my step son.   I make one for Christmas, eat one slice, send the rest home with step son.   That’s enough.  Don’t put that shit in my coffee or anywhere else, it belongs in pie and that’s that.

Hoodies.  Oh, yeehaw, we can wear hoodies.  Why are we wearing hoodies?  Because it’s cold, that’s why, and I hate the cold.   My bones ache, my fingers turn blue and numb, cold is so much fun.
But, but, the leaves!  Yeah?  Spiders hide in the leaves.   I hate spiders.   Screw the leaves.   Also, they get tracked into my house because I live in the woods (I know, stupid place to live if you hate spiders and critters, shut up, it’s my home and I love it except for when the spiders, etc, decide to come INSIDE instead of staying out there where they can just go die somewhere).

And yay, Christmas is a couple of months away.   That’s a wonderful day.   The day that I turn into an ATM and hand out money to people who can’t remember my phone number the rest of the year.

Give me warm days and sunshine, let me walk out the door without having to put on extra clothing, let me go barefoot – keep this cold, yucky, pumpkin crap to yourselves.

 

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