Friday, December 11, 2009

The slippery slope

Why do I feel compelled to lie to my vet when they say-- I think your dog is gaining weight? Is it because they really don't want to know what is going on in your life - why a dog who had two long walks a day is now stuck in the house? Do they want to know that you haven't slept in weeks, that you are just plain exhausted from working too many hours or getting up during the night with a new baby? No they don't really want to hear your life story. They just want to give you good advice. It is advice, no test or grade at the end of the month. So I am not sure why I feel compelled to say - oh yes I'll put him immediately on light, cardboard tasting food and get him a treadmill.

What do I feed my dog? Kibble with a little baked, no salt added, no gravy, just plain chicken in the morning and for dinner. So when the vet says maybe you should add vegetables to his kibble -- I secretly think that maybe I should add a roll and butter and make it a meal, or perhaps just some condiments to add a little flavor. It is a slippery slope when you begin lying to your vet - next step who knows.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It has the fewest rules and reasonable expectations. Over the years I have learned to keep my creative cooking to a minimum but improve the quality. This is not the weekend to introduce strange new foods. There is something comforting about knowing that there will always be something you love on the table on Thanksigving. This year we got to celebrate with family and friends with conversation being the main course and turkey and fixings being the background. I think this may have been the best Thanksgiving weekend ever.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

It looks easier than it is

How hard could it be to peddle a surry on the flat boardwalk -- easy right. I watched people go by in the four person surry in the morning and thought "we could do that". It was perfect right -- Joan and I could peddle and Mom could ride, we would go to the end of the boardwalk, maybe have a morning snack, a fun thing to do. So I rented the surry.

The shop owner said we should push it up on to the boardwalk, no riding on the sidewalk and start from there. One hour. We had on our hats and sunglasses, ready for our adventure. Mom sat in back and Joan and I took the front. I got the steering wheel and Joan controlled the bell. Mom cheered us on. Well we started out strong, all three of us peddling, gliding down the boardwalk. Then Mom piped up - 'maybe I should get off here'. We were driving safely staying on our side of the boardwalk, what could be the problem. She had been peddling with us and was getting pooped. "No Mom, we never meant for you to peddle, we can do this, just slide over to the middle and put your feet on the bar." Off we went again. Joan quickly abandoned the disconnected steering wheel in favor of adding some arm strength to peddling.

Before too long we began to 'glow'. Southern girls do not prespire or heaven forbid sweat, we glow. Well we were glowing. Joan checked her watch, we had been gone about 10 minutes. First milestone we crossed 11th Street and were now in new territory we had not walked beyond this before. Now we were really cruising - granted people were walking past us faster than we were peddling, but we were out for the experience, it wasn't a race. I began to look longingly at any opportunity to stop and get a cold drink. Maybe this was enough exercise to deserve Thrasher french fries or even a donut. But we soldiered on. It was getting harder and harder, I couldn't remember any of the songs for marching, we couldn't give up. We began looking at all of the bike rental stations wondering if we could just turn it in and take a cab home. But then, just up ahead we saw the dune -- the end of the boardwalk was in sight, we could do it.

We turned around - the turn was too tight so we had to get out and push - no backing up on this baby. Now we really deserved a cold drink. A few blocks later a coffee shop appeared. Gratefully we climbed off and headed in for cold drinks. We lingered, perhaps each wondering if it was just too rude to bail out and offer to meet the others back at the condo. But we perservered and climbed back on. Slowly we got back in motion. Now we had a nice breeze on our faces - or was that a headwind? Was Mom dragging her feet? How could this be so hard. We gave knowing nods and waves to other 'glowing' women peddling along in their surry's. Then we hit the wall. We didn't think we could make it - we were running out of steam. We began eyeballing people walking by wondering what we would have to offer them to get them to hop on and help peddle? We actually kidded two city workers walking along the board walk - they just laughed with us -- little did they know we were serious. We began to dream of how easy this would be if one or two of Joan's sons was on board. Finally we reached familiar territory -- we could do this. Then Mom kicks in and adds her peddling to the effort - we are breezing along. "Hold on to your hat Mom" we are racing now! We switch lanes to the concrete boardwalk, this must be easier. And we are heading south - so it must be downhill. We try flattening against the steering wheels to reduce the wind drag but notice no difference. Just three more blocks. We wonder if they ever have to send out rescue teams to bring in stranded bikers? We promise ourselves treats if we can just press on. Then - we see it in the distance our building and know we have almose made it. When we reach our street, we slowly dismount and Joan and I push the buggy down the sidewalk to the waiting arms of the owner. He smiles knowingly -- two more out of shape, glowing middle age women. But we did it! We survived and in fact are better for it. Maybe we will do it again tomorrow.

Beach

What could be better than sitting on the porch overlooking the ocean enjoying the sun and gentle breeze. When I started planning this little adventure I wanted to go somewhere that held good memories for Mom and my sister Joan. Growing up in Baltimore, Ocean City Maryland was my beach of choice as a teenager and it beckoned me back. OC had all the right ingredients, it is a three hour drive from Mom's house, it has a good boardwalk for strolling and in mid-September the weather is usually cooperative for sitting on the beach. After some research I found the perfect place - ocean front, balcony with a great view from the eighth floor of a new condo building - and to top it off it is close to the inlet where Dad kept his boat. Mom had not been back to Ocean City since Dad died two years ago and was willing to give it a try.

I stopped in Richmond, picked up Joan and headed to Baltimore to pick up Mom and head out to OC. The trip went smoothly, the luggage fit in the car and the condo lived up to its promo.

Now we were ready for the challenging part - living together for a week. Don't get me wrong, we like each other, but we lead very different lives and we have never done something like this before. But how hard could it be, we are women after all. So what are the big challenges? Food is number one. What do we eat, what do we NEVER eat, what do we think the other person should or should not eat? Should we eat in, do take away or eat out? It took some juggling but we each chose what we wanted and when it overlapped it was great. Next challenge: eating in. What to have, how to cook it, who would cook it. We settled on one night of fish, one of chicken, one of pizza take away, and eating out twice. So far so good

Vanity the ultimate gotcha.

Vanity 1. Heels, shoes. They were my addiction. I loved being able to wear heels, sandals, cute shoes. Even if they were slightly uncomf...