Instructions

MICROWAVE:

1. Slit bag on one side diagonally making a large X from corner to corner.
2. Place bag slit side down on a NON METALLIC BOWL.
3. Microwave 1 bag on high for 4 1/2 minutes or until hot (because of differences in microwave ovens, heating time may vary).
4. Pinch plastic bag from middle of uncut side, lift from bowl.
Contents will empty into bowl. CAREFUL, it's hot.
5. Stir well before serving.

I'll have you know that I didn't follow the instructions to the letter. I was careful. Not my first choice for lunch* but I forgot bring something. .All turned out well enough and along with the apple will get me through the rest of the day.

Tabatchnick Vegetarian Chili

Also, it occurs to me that it is December 5th. It was December 5, 1979 when I started working for the family and throughout all the various previous formats that morphed into my current employer.

1979. What a year that was.

NOTE TO SELF

Self,

Please avoid giving daughter anything that has to be assembled, configured, or formatted. Please remember that she IS a graduate of SAVE THE DRAMA FOR YOUR MAMA University. Further, please remember that she is a ready-to-wear, ready roll kinda girl.

OK?

PS The boyfriend hinders rather than helps, usually.

OK

A long, long time ago . . .

. . . she of the Dripping with Cheez and Beanbag Chronicle posts dared challenged invited me to participate in a game involving music. The exercise is to have me identify my music likes that tend to embarrass me.

I’ve struggled with this exercise, thrown by the embarrassment aspect, I think. I’m not embarrassed by my music likes. I’m probably more embarrassed by the fact that my head itches when I’m very, very excited. But, then again, I suppose there are musical guilty pleasures, which I suppose further, spells embarrassment.

Do I like what would be considered crappy music? (Is only crap-tastic music translatable to “embarrassed to know you”?) Yes, more than likely. Do I care what others think about me and my liking of said music? No, more than likely. Still, it has taken me forever to tackle and spill. I suppose nailing a listing of anything is part of my issue. I do lists, no problem with lists, per se. I just don't cotton to lists of favorites, most or least.

But, I said, I'd play (a long, long time ago) so here's the stab. However, rather than travel the great divide of the musical spectrum I’ll stick to one most embarrassing (?) genre, TV theme songs. I have watched tens of thousands of hours of TV over my lifetime and I have learned the lyrics and tunes of many, many theme songs. Heck, I have at a time or two owned cassettes of TV themes…volumes 1 and 2. Even today, one of my last cd purchases over the past few years was "Grey's Anatomy" music from the series (Vol. 1), purchased in part, on the strength of the theme song.

There are many that have remained under my skin for one reason or another, but I’ll limit my list, for better or worse, in no particular order to five six a few.

Even before there was a lovely lady who met and married a man named Brady, there were the ladies (and Uncle Joe) of “Petticoat Junction” and then there was “Maude” and the “Good Times” family. The themes (and the shows) made an impression on me that resonated for years following their respective runs.

Later as TV viewing became influenced by the kids in residence, I became aware of shows (and their themes) that I might not have otherwise. My son became enthralled with “Simon and Simon”. He couldn’t hear the opening strains of that theme and NOT get excited. He ran to get his red truck which he dubbed his “Simon and Simon” truck and the rest of the paraphernalia need to re-enact the drama and then some. Thanks to a long run and syndication, “Simon and Simon" was part of our lives for a long, long time.

One of my daughter’s favorite shows was “Saved by the Bell”. Though I cringe when I hear the theme now, I can’t help but smile as I recall her devotion to the Bayside High gang. She recently revealed her belief that SBTB was partly responsible for her skewered vision of the high school experience. Explains some things, hmmmm. The Fresh Prince and the "Living Single" ladies got quite a lot of play as well.

Most of the TV theme compilations I procured included instrumental, jazz-like compositions themes from “Taxi” and “Hill Street Blues” and the like. I do remember at least one volume included the “Greatest American Hero” theme, which I’m not at all embarrassed to admit that part of the lyric remains with me still, ". . . believe it or not, it's just me."

Does the theme make the show more or less endearing? I don’t know and that’s not the topic for today. I will say that the theme sometimes has drawn me in and there has been a time or two when the music in the show has kept me around longer than than the plot-lines and / or performances may have warranted. I recognize that many TV themes are extended jingles. That, I think is the appeal. They are catchy and in some cases well done. Of course, that's just me.

There are hundreds of themes that have crossed my radar and of those several that I count (or have counted) among favorites that aren't mentioned here. I've written too much already, I think. But, I cannot close without and honorable mention going to "Bewitched". The theme is for me only so-so but, well, it's Elizabeth Montgomery. Yum.

It's A Man! It's A Woman!

The best part of any holiday gathering is having the two of them home together. Thursday's sit down included daughter's boyfriend and also had them checking out early to head out to his family's gathering, which I suppose is a sign of changes to come. Change is good. I mentioned to both my son and daughter that I look forward to being their guest in their respective homes someday, nearly as much as I look forward to hosting any gathering as one part of a pair.

Though the holiday gatherings are sweet, 'tis a sweetness tinged with sour. Sour because a certain someone is not in residence. Yet.

Thanks to son and mom, most of the food of the day is now history. Pumpkin soup remains to be served for my lunches this coming week, which was the plan. I knew no one would try it because no one else likes pumpkin. I'd never tried a soup before and I was very pleased with the result.

I'm happy that we don't participate in the large, extended family gatherings much anymore. The small, sedate gathering of just us allows time and space for a real visit, real conversations. I've noticed though, that my mother has trouble tuning in on protracted tales, partly because of her hearing issues and partly due to a lack of an active interest in many topics.

Also in her last few visits I've discovered her studying my photos, posters and bookcases, as though trying to garner some insight into just who the hell I really am. The 1,001 questions she routinely asks and the answers I've provided don't seem to satisfy.

I don't think the photos, posters and books satisfy either. They tell such a very small part of the tale. What's odd to me is how it is that after 48 years of nearly daily contact, I feel like such a stranger to her lately.

Sure, I've changed over the years, but the base, the essence is still...me.

Isn't it?

The photo isn't from Thanksgiving. I didn't take any photos that day. The photo is from when brother took sister out to celebrate her birthday a few weeks ago.

Thanks

Life is not where I would prefer at the moment, but all things considered, it isn’t so bad. I have my son, daughter and mom who will share in the meal tomorrow. I have my health, though I remain concerned over the health of loved ones. I have a home that is warm and soon enough will be filled with the smells of some things cooking. I have the three beautifully entertaining and loving fur babies. Buttah jumped from one perch to another and mis-judged the effect of landing on a magazine. He’s fine but the “ohhhh shit” look in his eyes as he skidded to the floor was priceless.Once we was over the embarrassment he came to cuddle.

I have friends who keep me entertained and engaged, allowing me an escape from my worries of the days.

I have memories of past Thanksgiving gatherings, as I shared with a friend via email recently:
My sister-in-law brought Pork N Beans and burnt pumpkin pies --was that last year? Anyhoo... Waaaaay back when I was a wee lass, we were having t-giving dinner w/one of my mom's sisters. She and hubby got to cussin' and fightin' as they always did and before you know it turkey & dressin' went flyin' across the room. He broke for the door when he saw her reach for her beloved knives, she slipped in some dressing.

Though the kids had been banished to the bedroom we managed to peek and eventually leak out of the door. We didn’t join in the fray but we did laugh our little asses off.

I have a rich (though often fractious) history and relationships with much of my extended family. Conversely I have an equally rich but very much warmer and more companionable history and relationships with my immediate family. I am thankful for it all, for all of them.

Note to Dr. C.: figure out what’s doin’ with my girl and fix it, sooner rather than later, please.

Travelers be safe. Chefs de-stress. Eaters go easy. Well, try anyway.

Happy, happy, joy, joy to one, to all.

Peace.

Saturday Night, Alright

Diamond here. I know, I know no picture of me. I haven't been able to get my hair just right and I'm not agreeing to any new pics until my hair is right. Plus, my cable knit sweater is still in the box. Pssst..don't tell the moms I don't like the sweaters and stuff. I don't think Gram D cares much but Mom D gets so giddy when she sees me dressed up. It is my pleasure to indulge this whim. She (well, they both) feed me well. Yummy.

I know you're thinking the scene above probably didn't end well. It didn't. Big Buttah wasn't supposed to be on the bookcase. He's been told, time and time again. He and that Pete are so stubborn and so baaad. Buttah tries to be sweet, jumping in laps and stuff. He's not sweet. he's always begging for food and walking where he isn't supposed to walk.

Very soon after I snapped this picture, yes, I can work a camera, I am Diamond, the diva dog, the phone rang, Buttah moved his butt and the exercise ladies went crash. Gram D was not very pleased, but she seemed to take it well. Buttah got scolded but I don't think he's learned his lesson yet. I think I'll have to help Gram D and Mom D keep Buttah (and Pete) in line. They stay out of my way, pretty much.

I have to go now as it is nearly time for bed. I have an appointment to get my hair trimmed. Maybe next week they'll be a picture to share.

BE NICE!! I'm not yelling at you guys, I'm practicing my "getting the cats in line" voice.

Ta Ta

Quiz and More

By way of eb the quiz has me pegged:

You're a potato!
Just to clarify, we don't mean that in a "couch potato" way. We see potatoes as full of possibilities. Think about it -- they're great all year round, in potato salad, as mashed potatoes, as French fries... the list goes on. You're always willing to try new things, but at the same time, you're very reliable. As vegetables go, you seem like you'd make a great best friend.

19% of the people who took this quiz got the same evaluation.

.... And

THE WALKING INTO GLASS DOOR STORY eb's take not that far off.

Daughter and I were out shopping, which in and of itself was amazing enough. This had to be a bit over two years ago, we were shopping for stuff to take to Vegas. I think we were in the hunt for a swimsuit and cover-up for me. This was going to be our last (of many) stops that day.

I found a suit that I thought I could live with, though as it turns out I never wore it while in Vegas, but no cover-up. I paid for the suit, gathered my share of the bags, D took her share. We headed for the door. Of course, we were gib-gabbing the entire time, shooting the shit with the cashiers, talking trash about one thing or another, laughing about something else we'd seen that day. Those particular details escape me now. Anyway, gib-gabbing, laughing and walking--toward the door, which of course, is glass, as are the side panels.

The guard, standing near the door was trying to get my attention. He was saying, "ma'am, ma'am, MA'AM". I heard him, but not really. I couldn't gather precisely what or why. I was gib-gabbing with D and one of the clerks who was following us to the door. I has heading the charge toward this wall of glass. In the instant it dawned on me what and why, BAM! my head and the rest of my body had come in contact with the wall of glass. I'd mistaken one of the panels for the open glass door.

The impact (and the embarrassment) knocked me to the floor, the bags scattered. D couldn't hold it together, in the instant she saw I wasn't hurt (my own laughing probably tipped her off) she broke down and guffawed her ass off. The clerk, trying desperately to hold it together, lost the battle and sniggled just a little.

"Ma'am, are you ok?", the guard asked. I assured him I was, rolled to a standing position and gathered the bags. My lovely daughter pulled herself together and proclaimed, "that's the funniest thing I've seen ALL day, hell, all year!"

We left the store pretty much in-tact. She re-told it several times that day, to her boyfriend, M and mom. She's re-told it several times since, to new acquaintances, co-workers (she's worked in 4 different places since) and strangers on the bus. Whenever we need a pick-me-up she asks, "remember when you ran into....?"

Now, I'm going to relish in the fact that I'm a potato and not a pickle. Though, I think it'd be fun to be a pickle. At least once.

Quality Time

Daughter: So you were probably wondering why there are jeans in the floor.

Me: Yes, I did wonder. I figured Pete had something to do with that.

Daughter: No, that was me.

Me: And?

Daughter: Well, I was running late this morning (note: it was yesterday morning) and decided to stop at Wendy's on the way. I don't know what happened but somehow my drink wound up in my lap and all over me.

Me: hehehehehehehehe uhm, I mean, damn that had to suck.

Daughter: Yeah, well, no way was I going to work with mushy pants so I drove back, ripped the mushy jeans off and put some new ones on.

Me: Ahh, so in the rush you didn't have the time to hang the wet, mushy jeans in the bathroom to dry. Leaving them on the floor near a common area closet, exposed to 2 cats and a dog was the best choice.

Daughter: Well, yeah.

Me: So, you think you could pick them up now?

Daughter: Sure and if you're looking for the glass cleaner stuff, I've got that. I got hella sticky stuff to all over the car to clean.

Me: mmmmkay.

Note: It was made clear the car was not in motion so no danger to herself of anyone else. I was glad it was Tuesday and she goes to work much later in the morning, closer to lunch than breakfast, so a cold beverage, not hot.

Note to daughter (should she ever read here): this is a freebie since the story of me walking into that glass door is such a fan favorite among all your co-workers.

Betcha Didn't Know

....that today is World Toilet Day. No, I know I didn't either. Further, I had no idea there was an organization committed to improving toilet and sanitation conditions worldwide.

Not surprising though, where there's a need . . .

Eating In, Part 2

I was surfing working this morning and came across this article, which of course reminded me of this post. I wasn't personally mortified to read the news, I hadn't had one of the little meals since that time. I do feel badly for those folks who enjoy (or have enjoyed) the little meals. Since losing my microwave at home, I haven't even given much thought to LCs or any brand of frozen meal.

Since we're on food (of sorts) allow me to update my physical and health status.

I have been good about eating, basically. I am cognizant of my pre-dispositions. I do take a water pill for my slightly elevated blood pressure. I take regular readings and I seem to hover around the pre-hypertensive neighborhood. My doctor may suggest something stronger than the low voltage water pill at some point. I'm hoping to avoid that AND cholesterol meds. My last readings were high but not dangerously so. The doc feels that as I continue on my diet and exercise path, the next test (next September / October) results should prove favorable.


Though I don't gym anymore, I do try to build excercise into my daily routine. I do this by walking. As often as my energy allows I take the long way home. Recently, I've begun to take the route that includes stairs. Many. (My knees have been feeling much better these days). When the warm weather returns (I do not do frozen biking) I'll be back on the bicycle, daily (or as often as it is dry, I avoid wet biking too). In the meantime, between commuting, I do my own variation of sweatin' to the oldies.

I don't know what I weigh. Honestly. I only get on the scale at doctor's appointments. I don't remember what it was last time. But, I do know that my new slacks and jeans are a full size smaller than last season's purchases. Slow and steady progress.

Lunch today consisted of an orange, 1 cup of yogurt (plain, non-fat) and a tablespoon of granola with raisins and cranberries. I try to vary the non-(or low) fat, low sodium foodstuffs and I almost always try to have fresh fruit in the mix.

Next week will be a challenge as the larder will be stocked with foodstuffs not normally kept on hand (or in much larger quantities -cheese, yum- than usually kept). However, the son will be over and I'm sure he'll do his part to relieve me (us) of the most decadant selections.

One thing for sure, he'll take all the pie(s).

Brain Dump

So many thoughts, so many lists, so many things floating around and I’m having a hard time corralling them all (or any) in any coherent fashion so... random

1. Speaking of random, I still owe her a MeMe effort. I haven't forgotten & I intend to do it.
2. I’m dreaming more (or remembering more). The dreams are nutty, dis-jointed little romps.
3. Daughter insists on getting a drink or some food (or both) before) I begin my dream recitations.
4. I tend to meander when I’m in my re-telling of the dream.
5. I’ve just begin reading Wangari Maathai’s memoir Unbowed. I am struck by what she said the relationship she & her mom shared: In all the years we were together, my mother and I never disagreed. WOW.
6. Both Neta and I are having "MOM” issues right now.
7. I haven’t talked with Neta much over the past week as she’s been ill and not up to chatting. Boo
8. I’m actually looking forward to the cooler temps, though I do still need to winterize the unit.
9. I can do without the snow.
10. Though we’ve had turkey for T-giving before, it was my mom who prepared it. This year I will.
11. I’m not at all nervous about that, but I am concerned over the veggie selections.
12. Son is in another show and though small, the role is pivotal & the show is quite enjoyable.
13. I’m not out at night too much these days.
14. It was weird being out so late last night.
15. I've got to start packing it in for the (work) day. Ta Ta

Equal Time

Hi, it's me Pete, the cat! I know you met the others, but they haven't had much time to speak for themselves, so without further delay, I give you my nephew Buttah who is more like my brother and my sister Diamond who is more like a force of nature. Hi, I'm Buttah, the orange tabby. I came here a few months ago and right away got an Uncle Pete and a sister, Diamond. The sister is not a cat like me, but a dog. She's a nice enough dog, but I think she's jealous that I can leap into laps and she has to use the stairs. She's constantly trying to take my moist food, she has to be watched. If mom D or gram D (whoever is feeding us) leave the room she moves me away from my bowl. I can't do anything about it because she's bigger, well, heavier. She isn't mean, just pushy. She does listen when her name is called, especially when the "mommy" voice is used. I notice that Uncle Pete listens to the mommy voice too whenever he's pawing at the walls. I heard mom and gram talking about what to do about Pete and that pawing. He better be careful.

I like having someone like Uncle Pete to talk with. It was lonely outside and then later in the shelter. Mom D met me outside and when she asked me to come with her I did. I don't know why I did, something about her was just purrrfect. hehehehe Anyway, she took me to the shelter and after a few weeks brought gram D around to meet me. I heard gram D say, "no". Mom D was not so happy about that but she told me not to worry. Next thing I know, I'm out of the shelter cage and meeting Pete and Diamond. Gram D wasn't too happy but she warmed to me pretty quickly. I spend a lot of time in her lap when she's watching teevee and typing. I haven't figured out how that paper spits out of that thing next to the typing board, but I'm going to one of these days.

I only have one, maybe two things to say right now. One, I am diva dog and I want, no...I deserve my own times and space. Two, I though I don't like the process of getting my hair cut I DO like the attention I get when I go outside sporting my nice neat trim. Mommy is still working on her technique and she does make me nervous with those scissors close to my eyes, but she does a pretty good job, if I do say so myself.

Why, I Never

There are lots of things that I haven't done for lots of reasons. One of those things is Karaoke. That's right. I've never done it. I've not even ever been in a place where karaoke was going on. Not only have I not ever done it, I haven't seen it...live.

That is not to say that I haven't (or don't) sing and dance around in the privacy of my own walls, pretending to be...whomever. But not ever in public. The desire to see others do it has been very, very low on the meter.

I wonder. Do I avoid karaoke because I'm afraid?

Hmmmm.

I've operated under the premise that I just didn't get the appeal. But maybe, just maybe, I'm afraid. Maybe I need, lessons.

Now, I have to find a signature song. Any suggestions?

Be Mine

I was tooling around the 'net, trying to find inspiration or better, some funny. I'm in need of funny today. Not funny strange, but funny ha-ha. Anyway, I was looking around and got routed to a sight that proposed to show me a video in response to my search request: artistic lesbians.

Well, of course, before I could see said video, (which by the way, had me declaring to being over 18--yes!) I had to register. Ick. I don't have time, energy, inclination or .. well, you know, I didn't wanna.

But I did. I used nuggets of my data, shaded enough to not really be me but when it was all said and done, I couldn't even view the freakin' video. Or, I didn't know which (if any) video to view. There were hundreds,thousands, heck maybe even millions.

Oh well.

Anyway, since joining I've received half a dozen requests to my junk mail box to be friends with other members.

Wha??? Why do you wanna be my friend? You don't even know me.

Oh well.

I asked for it, that's what I get for playing around the 'net, especially at work. I need for it to stop raining so I can go outside, get some lunch, clear my head and think about being a friend.

Or not.

Another Day, Another Shot

So as you may imagine I didn’t go into Monday morning in the best of moods what with all those thoughts rattling around, going to bed much too late and rising much too early. Monday began with a whimper rather the bang needed for a Monday morn.

It was cold, but the sun was shining so I decided I would shine as well. Onward I intended to forge.

Very late Sunday night / early Monday, Pete, the cat took a walk across the entertainment center and sent my Granny Racer set to the floor. It scared him silly (he's ok) but the sight of him racing out of the living room & hiding under the dining room table . . . I told daughter about it before leaving work we both got a chuckle out of it and him. He’d been told time and time again to stay off the entertainment center. I’ll get the little dears back on track, but I don’t know where I’ll re-lay the track. His little escapade probably helps...something. So, anyway off I was heading into the Monday workday.

The ride in was un-eventful which is always a surprise and a big plus.The remainder of the morning progressed without much of a hitch. I got mama B’s (Neta’s mom) birthday gift shipped and while I wasn’t feeling tip-top, the sketching and punching out the post about Sunday's emotional ride improved the mood enough. I put my head down (metaphorically speaking) and forged ahead.

Then my daughter called, crying.

Frustration over her job and her future had her all choked up. I was able to talk her down, ease her tears. A brief chat with another of her mentors and the promise of a meeting with her boss had her feeling much better by the time she called later in the afternoon.

Shortly after my daughter, Neta called to say she wasn’t going to work (either job). She’d been feeling poorly all weekend (longer, actually), the fatigue and more hadn’t improved by noon Monday. I was (and continue to be) worried about her and tearing what little hair I have out over not being able to be there. But, she's following doctor's orders, taking meds and precautions. I have to just...well, be there for her, here.

In the meantime work beckons. I knocked out a few more to-do items and took myself to lunch (yes, I lunch late in the afternoon, a longtime habit developed back when there were small kids home, so I wouldn’t be starving immediately upon walking in the door, because dinner would still be a ways off yet). A sandwich and cup of soup later, I was beginning to believe the hype…”You CAN do IT!”

Then the space heater in the office crapped out. Poof, no more heat.

Well, damn.

Another minor work-related disaster later and finally, time to pack in it and go home.

A conversation with daughter, brief chat with Neta, a light dinner, a stiff drink and a viewing of “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” and some lighter fare later, I went to bed prepared to put my happy face mask on and go for the gusto this Tuesday morning.

So, here’s to Tuesday morn and more.

Quiet Day

A bit more than half-way passed the first day of autumn leading to the first day of winter, Sunday felt closer to winter than autumn. Cloud cover, whisking winds and cold temps made going outside an un-attractive choice. Were it not for walking diva dog I wouldn't have gone out at all. It was a nestle-in day. If only I'd had the foresight to whip up a hearty soup or stew.


Daughter had to work so it was just me, Pete, Buttah and Diamond. We all agreed I would clean in the morning and then we'd settle in and watch some football games and surf the channels for the odd Sunday surprise showing of...something, anything whenever we tired of watching our teams (lose).


It was quiet except for Diamond's periodic snores, Buttah's sniffling and eventually play-by-play. The chill and the quiet conspired to put thoughts in my head. Nothing in particular but everything in general crossing my mind.


I couldn't shake loose of thoughts of my father.

Seeing the images of President-elect Obama with his daughters (over this past week especially) listening to item after item contrasting 1968 Chicago with 2008 Chicago, mom's knowing prediction, "it's the kids who will suffer the most" with regard to the news that my sister-in-law intends to file for divorce from my repeat offender brother and that he intends to fight this action, "tooth and nail" put thoughts of my father in my head.

And try as I might, I couldn't let them go yesterday.

Thoughts like what it will feel like when I get the news that he has died, wondering IF I'll get that news. Thoughts like if the memories of our few good times will totally disappear, finally becoming swallowed by the decades of bad or worse, nothingness. Thoughts like when or if I'll ever see him again and what I'll say to him if I do. Thoughts like if he ever really thinks of me, my son or daughter and what he would say to me, us should we ever communicate again.

Normally I relish my quiet Sunday afternoons. This past Sunday, an aberration, I'm sure. Future quite Sundays will be heartily embraced and quietly enjoyable.

Note to self: For the rest of this season and into the next, Hearty Soup Sunday.

Word Up

Pssst, can we talk? This is me, Pete, the cat! I took over the contraption so I could talk with you, thought you might want an update. The outfits? Not happening, no way, now how. I'm trying to keep those goofy chicks (well, just one of them is all about 'dressing' us) in line. What the taller one said about me and Buttah, 'tis true. He's so cool. He's kinda nutso about moist food, he makes the most racket when it's time for the moist but otherwise, he's a pretty decent egg. I'm the 'bad boy' so he leaves it up to me to get tall chick up in the morning, at least I think it's morning, so we can eat. He thinks being all cuddly and loving is gonna move her off that thing she's laid out on, uh uh, you gotta get physical. Sometimes we forget about food while we're playing. We try to be quiet but, well, I guess sometimes we get a little rambunctious, she doesn't seem mad when she says, "good morning boys."

That diva dog thinks she's the boss of us, but she's w-r-o-n-g. We just let her think that because, well, it's just easier that way. Besides, we feel kinda sorry for her, she has to wear those dorky looking sweaters and stuff. The shorter chick has a few sweaters for the dog. She put one on Buttah once but he slipped out of it, it was sooo funny. We talked about it later and we made a deal, the sweaters will be for that kooky dog, us cats will not be clothed, hatted or otherwise accessorized. We both could use new collars though, new collars would be good. Buttah keeps taking his off and mine has seen better days.

Well, I have to go now, it's time for my afternoon-evening nap.

Hope you guys have a fantastic day.

Seasonal Change

When I left for work this morning the sun was shining and there was a light breeze and the temperature moderate. In short, it was a pretty typical autumn morning.

he sun has since disappeared. The winds have picked up considerably, the temperature has dropped and there is a chance that by the time I leave at 5:00 it will be raining or snowing or both.

I have an umbrella for the rain.

I have on sweater(s) and had a coat hanging in my office space to protect my body against the cold.

However, I forgot to stash a hat and other colder weather garb.

Shit.

I Lied

. . . to my mother. She called last night on the land line while I was talking with Neta on my cell. I know it was mom because of the programmed tone. It was late (for her) so that concerned me a bit, so I screened. When I heard her message I decided not to call her back until this morning.

Mom: So, you were out. Did you get my message?

Me: Yes, I got your message.

She presumed I was out and I didn’t correct her. Had her message been of an emergency, health or otherwise issue, I would have picked up, but it wasn’t.

The call had to do with family bullshit drama. There has been a death, a cousin of mine and every day since that event there has been family bullshit drama.

Mom (on the machine): I don’t understand what they’re doing. I’m sick of this shit. Portia wants to have food at the house. Reggie thinks sandwiches at the Temple are plenty. Daniel’s not going and Ronnie IS his son. What kind of shit is that? Portia wanted to know if you would sit with him at their house. I told her I couldn’t answer for you, she should call you. Call me when you can.

Call me when you can, just so you know, is code for WHY AREN’T YOU HOME TO ANSWER THIS CALL? & CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU HEAR THIS MESSAGE!

I called her this morning and after side-stepping question after question about where I was, whether I was with M or D, how late I was out (since it was after 9 and I didn’t pick up the phone), yada x 3. I got the answering machine version with details, many, many details. There is some back-story that I can't get into here, but basically my mom feels and has felt short-changed by her family for many, many years and events like this tend to bring those emotions to the surface.

After she wound down about that, the election, folks running around trying to get ‘historic’ newspaper editions, needing to find another way to cart her stuff around, her newest therapy and most recent diagnosis, she needed to know if I could braid her hair on Saturday, when no doubt there will be even more and / or more of the same to relate.

Me: Of course.

Beginnings

Election day started at four a.m., dog snoring and cats roaring through the condo, Buttah leaving tufts of orangery, furry balls in his wake. The alarm (a useless appliance these days) is set for 5 and I try to stay in bed for a bit longer, hoping to catch a few more zzzzzs .

When the “the boys” realize I’m awake their daily campaigning begins. By 4:30 I realize it’s futile. The day has begun.

I flip on the bedroom and kitchen lights, moving through the unit to the bathroom to dispense with that little task.

The cats follow me as if they don’t believe I’ll return. They camp outside the door. Diamond is slower, but eventually stirs. She stretches and moves from her bed. By the time I return from the bathroom she is lying in the doorway separating the bedroom from the kitchen…waiting.

The cats hover, whine, meow and bump my legs, “bring on the food, woman!” scream their antics. Diamond, the silent sentry peeks up at me through her own tufts of hair, eyes pleading, screaming just as loudly, “bring on the food, woman and this time, me first!” The day has begun.

I’m out the door and on to the polling place by 5:55 arriving just a shade past 6. There are already 30-40 people lined outside. I join them and in just a shade over an hour I’m done.

Off to work and then home again. The day and now evening progressing as most do with a couple of exceptions; this evening I have an telephone interview and of course, election results to view. In addition to the interview I talk with mom, daughter and Neta. I watch with wonder, shed a few tears and go off to bed.

Now, another day has begun, again at 4, again to the snoring of a dog, cats tearing through the unit and me with the same duties to be done as the day before. This day has begun, but oh, what a different day it is. The ride down on the bus with the too many stops further illustrates that fact. There were smiles, excited utterances, preaching and more.

The owner of the company is in town today from his home base of Denver, CO looking tired but jubilant. He told of making phone calls well into the evening, watching results and then...the speech. He spoke as so many have, of being inspired of being filled with.... h-o, you know, that four-letter word. He said like so many others have, "he has a very tough job ahead of him, but not just him, we all have a very tough work ahead. This is only the beginning."

Yes, the election is over. Now, the work must begin.