Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Obsolete

We had our six month check up by the heat/air guy. Our furnaces are "builder grade" and seemingly on their last legs now that they are twelve. We hope they make it through the Christmas holiday so we don't all have to decamp to the Embassy Suites. The furnace humidifier - well he has never seen one this old and he doesn't have parts. When did furnaces start dying when they hit the 12 year mark. The washer died at 10 and the maintenance contract folks declared it not worth fixing.

Last night I got together with some girl friends and there was the general agreement that pre-lit (no allergy) trees lasted 3 - 5 years and outside tree lights - well after 3 years it was the hunt for the burned out bulb game. The throw away generation crept up on me. We sat around like old dinasouresses and reminisced about the artificial trees where you assembled them branch by branch and then added the lights. Our younger companions reminded us that now with LED lights they lasted longer, and with the flick of the remote could change the lights from white to red to blinking, etc, etc. I am officially obsolete.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Should have measured

My front load washer gave up the ghost, or rather stopped spinning and draining. The diagnosis was a burned out pump, the warranty company said the pump exceeds the value of the 10 year old washer and offered compensation. I was ready to go back to a top load. My front loader was wonderful on small loads and delicates, and did a fine job on everything else except it took two loads to wash the sheets on my bed, and it liked towels to be limited to three with some hand towels. The coverlet exceeded its capacity and had to be rinsed at least twice. So, a new top loader was on the menu. I measured the footprint since there isn't a lot space in the laundry room. Off to the store we went.


I was in search of a top loader without an agitator and with enough flexibility in choices for temperature and spin. Whirlpool had a good review, the Black Friday price still applied, the footprint was actually a little narrower than the old set. They were delivered, the old ones moved to the garage for sale or donation and I happily brought down two weeks of clothes to start washing.

The first load sang a little song when it ended and I went in to toss them in the dryer and repeat the exercise. When what to my wondering surprise should occur! I can not reach the bottom of the dryer. There they were clean clothes, rinsed and spun awaiting their turn in the dryer. Now I have a little stool beside the washer so I can fish out those malingering socks and shirts that seem to like the bottom best.

In praise of the new washer I can do all of my bed sheets in one load, a basketful of towels and now the coverlet is having a turn.

 

Thursday, November 20, 2014

The new "old" date for appliances

Remember Mom's laundry room? Two washers and two dryers. They lasted forever, or at least a long time. My washer died, it won't spin. We checked the belt and it is good so it is something more expensive. We are leaving Saturday for a week so I guess we will pack whatever dirty clothes we need and wash them at the condo. We have a service appointment for Monday December 1, which if my memory of Meagan's trials will mean someone comes and looks at it, goes back to order a part and returns in a week or so. At least I hope that is what they do since the washer turned 10 in August. The last time we needed service it was on the fridge, the tech said "oh this is an old one" I may have something in my truck that will work. The fridge was 10 at the time.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Social security

Over my lifetime of working I have contributed $150,000 to social security. If you guesstimate an average of a 4% return for 30 years, I will be 89.5 before I start taking out more than I put in. This is my money. Since the majority of my career I have been self employed, that means I pay my part and the employers part. So when you read your bottom line on your social security report think about what your employer contributed and then think about us small businesses where we pay both parts.

 

Monday, November 10, 2014

California dreaming

Just back from a too short trip to California. Lots to tell. But I thought I would share a picture of one of my tour guides.

 

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Pictures really aren't enough

Meagan, Ashby and I went to Big Sur today for lunch. The resteraunt was 28 miles from Carmel. We took Meagan's VW with the top down. It was another beautuful day in California. The views were amazing. I used my phone but it takes a pro to capture the awesomeness. They have done a great job of having marked observation points and a lot of smaller pull off's. It was hard to miss any of them. Then we got to the redwood forest. The amazing woodsy smell filled the air. We had lunch at a resteraunt was on a precipice overlooking the ocean. It was almost like being on a cruiseliner looking at the horizon where the ocean meets the sky.

 

 

 

Monday, November 3, 2014

California bound

The luggage is packed, the hotel confirmed and my boarding pass is downloaded. This seems like a major adventure. Usually when we are going on a trip I do my best to guess at clothing, usually over-packing, but reassuring myself that if I forgot it, or need it, my AMEX is securely lodged in my wallet. For some reason this feels different. I put most of my cards in the drawer, including the miscellaneous for gas, my car and store cards, but somehow it feels like foreign territory. I have been to California several times on business, so it isn't the trip. More tomorrow.

Do you know what year this was?

I am scanning in pictures from Mom's collection.  The date on the back is no help, since Dad would frequently wait a year or more before sending the film in for processing.  So, what year was this?


Friday, October 31, 2014

California Dreaming

Tuesday I fly out to California for a four days. This trip I am using my travel budget to stay close - as in walking distance to Meagan, the beach, the town center, all things quaint about the "artist colony" where she lives. I fly in to a little airport less than 30 minutes from her house, and my inn (no chain hotels here) is only a few blocks away on the same street as her house.

I am excited to go and see her world, it will be very different from the Baltimore world. Growing up in Baltimore, and keeping my Baltimore roots made going to visit like coming home but without the same stresses. There was a Nana room that was not my childhood bedroom with all of the accompanying ghosts and drama. It was a lovely neutral room, completely ghost free. Since she lived downtown I got to indulge my love of Indian delivered to the door, or Thai, or well if you wanted to eat it, they would bring it or worst case we could make a quick run for takeaway. It was the best of both worlds yummy food without stressing out the pre-schooler. Her house in Baltimore indulged my love of city living without any of the grittiness. She lived in a new house, lovely high ceilings, level floors, straight staircases and a view of the skyline from the roof. Because she was at the end of the road, there were no drunks living on the front porch in the morning, and no eau de human on the sidewalks walking to the water taxi. All the wonderfulness of city living without the grit.

California will be so different, there will be no comparison. It isn't like she moved to the suburbs in Annapolis. It is the other side of the country. The sun sets in California. It is probably as dramatically different as when I moved from Virginia (lush and green, with four seasons) to Lubbock Texas. Flat, brown, one season three temperatures - warm, hot, hotter. Lubbock had its own culture which included men in big hats driving pick-up trucks. I suddenly became a damn Yankee.

So I have my suitcase out and have started to think about what to bring, trying to keep in mid that I am really only there for four days, travel days have their own requirements, and it is an artist colony. She tells me that I should search my memory for wealthy, dressed down, organic, casual but meaningful attire. I am thinking Middleburg on a Wednesday. That could be jeans and expensive booties. Maybe topped with an imported from Peru hand knit sweater. I will definitely leave the heels and hairspray home. Wish me luck. I'll tell you all about it when I get home.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Truth meter

Nothing tells you that you have been cheating on your diet and exercise routine like putting on the jeans you haven't worn since last December. I think I need to put them on every day as a painful reminder and incentive.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Telling time

I will admit that I don't have a really accurate internal clock. It is a failing I have worked on intermittently with little success. My most accurate memories are based on what was happening around me at the time. So my mattress is as old as Ashby. On the 4th of July weekend when Meagan was oh so pregnant we went bed shopping. Hubby was sure our bed was too soft. (This is not a 3 little bears story). And I was hunting for a bed that wasn't too soft or too firm. Meagan and I went from mattress store to mattress store trying out beds. One very pregnant lady and me. Some were too firm and some were too soft, none was perfect. When we were exhausted and ready to quit we tried the last store on the list. The salesman was busy but said to lay down on this bed and he would be with us next. Then he took out the remote and made a few adjustments. My head went up slightly and my feet went up slightly and my back said ohh stay here. My predisposition to hate this bed faded away. I still love my bed. Unfortunately hubby is not so in love. I have tried many different toppers to make it softer for him but he is still not in love. But I know exactly how old my mattress is - Ashby's birthday plus two weeks. The industry says to replace your mattress every 8 - 10 years. I have five left before I have to give in and move this one to the guest room. Psst - mattress I love you and I promise to sleep with you even if you move down the hall.

Beach weekend

October is the perfect time for a beach weekend. It isn't too hot and it isn't too cold, there are people around but not crazy crowds. This weekend treated us to glorious clear skies and warm breezes. The outside pool was a Dad would say "bracing". But I inched in freezing my legs step by step before touching bottom. Of course it is only 3 feet deep so it wasn't much of a plunge. Bruce with his vacation mastermind scored us an oceanfront three bedroom condo and friends from Charlotte joined us. The husbands did their usual but left early and were home by 2 so we had some pool time with them before nap time. Luckily the ladies are not big shoppers so after a leisurely breakfast on the porch we donned bathing suits and took to the pool. We ventured down to the ocean but it is COLD. As the day went on we chatted with other adventurous ladies who joined us in the pool. As expected they were from colder locations like Binghamton and Omaha and found the weather warm and the pool perfect. I remember my kids and the lure of beach. Like good Canadians we all thought 60 was perfect shorts and sandal weather. They would willingly venture into summer beach in Nova Scotia where the rule seemed to be if you didn't turn blue in the first five seconds it must be warm enough. So thanks hubby for a great weekend.

 

Monday, October 6, 2014

Wish me well

Tomorrow we fly up to DC to pitch a proposal for a project that is a dream job for hubby. Previous client, wonderful to work with, great working conditions. It is the client we were working for when we were riffed for "not having the skills needed". Long story short, we know they are also bidding but we don't know if they are short listed. I have mixed feelings about winning. The project will take a year and would be the perfect end to my career. More importantly it would be a great project for hubby. So why am I ambiguous? It is a very intensive project and we will probably rent an apartment so we don't have to stay in hotels and hopefully keep off the consultant 10 pounds. But I may be away from home a lot. Last time the draw for the project was staying over to see my Mom, Meagan, my sister. A lot has changed since then. I still get to see my sister (who may be stressed by my doting presence) But the biggie is I will miss my little life here. I like my little 30 hour a week job, with no stress, and a very understanding boss. I like my friends, my routine and truth be told I was really ready to be RETIRED. So wish me good luck, it is the perfect project for us, it will feather our nest and let me postpone drawing on retirement dollars. And the rainbow at the end of the project is I will start looking for a puppy. So Mom, I will wear my lucky bracelet that you gave me, pull up my big girl panties and put on my pointy toe shoes. Benson Girls never pass up a great opportunity.

 

Friday, September 26, 2014

"Chickie" papers

For the past month I have been working at a truck parts/ repair company sorting paperwork and updating price changes. It has been slightly nostalgic. In the years I went to work with Dad on the weekend to get me out of Mom's hair, sorting paper was always a big part of the day. What exactly I did is a little vague in my memory but I remember my fingers being black from the carbon copies. Now my fingers are dried out from ruffling through the paper and a little sore from removing staples to get to all of the copies. It seems that if the invoice bottom line doesn't match the PO bottom line it gets tossed over to my boss who among other things keeps the databases current. Since this is a company that has been on a buying spree acquiring smaller businesses how purchasing is done is pretty inconsistent. Now that the new owner wants to bring order to the chaos they are moving to centralized purchasing. My boss is the person making this happen - but in the mean time someone has to keep the 10 or so different databases up to date. Voila a job for me. In between I get to create mini databases for analysis by the new powers to be. Why you may ask am I doing this and it would be a very good question. It started out as a lark for a good friend who was beleaguered by this huge pile of paperwork growing on his floor and by the constant interuptions from head office for this or that report that was definetly not rocket science and was essentially taking information they had access to and making it pretty and putting it into a format they were familiar with, this while trying to focus on the bigger picture of converting the myriad of systems to a totally new system. I had grown quite lah de dah about everything and needed a reason to get up and put on clothes before noon and needed to keep my mind working. This has accidently turned out to be a huge aha for me. PS. Chickie papers (spelled phonetically) is a term coined by my sister to describe the piles or orders that she got to sort.

If you are only interested in the basic what have I been up to this past month, now is a good time to move on to another blog. It would be an especially good idea to move on to something more interesting if you definitely don't want to read my confession to total ignorance of real life. Come back later and I will write about my thoughts on being ADD and memory, and the link between my obsessive interest in blogs.

What have I learned. I am an hourly contractor and based on wages listed on local job boards am well paid for sorting through invoices, finding discrepancies and updating the computer files. It is 10 miles to work, only a handful of people work at this site, and other than the fact it is the old front office for a still active truck repair place. I think the space I am in was probably a parts store. There is the little problem of ever present fruit flies, don't dawdle when eating lunch if tomatoes are included, and the occasion eau de garbage when a fully loaded truck is towed in but by an large it is fine. Since there are only four or five women in the building and we were a recent addition the ladies room is spacious and always clean. The men's room is in the shop, no more need be said. By unspoken agreement office attire includes long pants, capri's on Friday depending on the weather, and tasteful tee shirts that promote past events like the Myrtle Beach Harley week, or Shag dance weekend are always in fashion. There are three people in office across from my work area, the human resources woman for the stores in our district, accounts receivable, and my boss. Because the company is getting ready to close the books for the year, they are trueing up the inventory and trying to convince stores to get rid of "stuff" that is haunting the dark corners of their shops. Having a father who never saw a still usable part that shouldn't be saved for future use, I have compassion for the store managers. But every time inventory reports are run and corporate sees stuff still lingering there is a barrage of calls. For some reason they think because the databases are managed here, my boss has some magic power to get people to scrap stuff, submit the tickets and take it off inventory. Listening to the calls has been like old home week. I almost volunteered to go to Richmond and tag inventory to ferret out the many, many engine and brake cores that never made it back for refurbishing.

Human Resources is another case altogether. It seems as if everyone is either personally getting hurt, or wife is having a baby or surgery, or relatives are dying. Workers Compensation injuries have a lot of paperwork, and you can't just fax stuff with personal information around anymore. No matter what I am never taking a job that involves Workers Compensation claims. Neither am I ever taking a job that requires me to tell someone that "you know they were close to Uncle Joe six times removed but no you can not get paid leave to drive you and your family to Tennessee for the funeral. You can take personal days if you have any left, or unpaid leave if your boss approves it."

She is also the person who has to fix discrepancies in time cards - as in they marked it as personal leave and they don't have anymore followed "by I know that before you were acquired you let people borrow against future time for something important but we can't do that anymore". That problem seems to take up a lot of time especially since store managers then have to explain to the employee that while it seemed like it was ok, now their paycheck will be smaller. I have now definitively made the decision NO HUMAN RESOURCES jobs ever.

All of this leads me to the big Ah Ha. I have become totally clueless about how the world really works. I have been self employed, other than a few unsuccessful forays into being an actual employee, for most of my adult life. All in all it has been a great life. Sometimes knuckle biting when clients are very very slow to pay, or a big job is wrapping up and another one is not starting. I complain about being at the beck and call of irrascable clients, the sometimes painfully long hours and looming deadlines but the upside has been that I have been able to work from anywhere. The internet and cell phones cut all leashes to having to be in a fixed place. And in the final assessment I have been well paid. There have been some projects where the scope got out of hand and I would complain that I was probably making $5 an hour if I counted all of the hours, but by month or year end our family coffers were topped up. I have never learned to equate hours worked to income. It's a job, you agree on a price and you do the job. Time became irrelevant. I would always say it is only time, it isn't like I have to buy more materials or pay for something out of pocket.

I am now being paid by the hour. All of a sudden I have started equating hours to getting my hair done, or a pedicure, or food, everything. It has been a sobering learning experience. I have not been grateful for the gift of finding work that was a match for how I work. I don't keep track of time, and can fall into a task losing my hearing, forgetting to eat, getting up after hours hunched over my computer stiff and happy that the task is done. There were days when after hours writing reports, I was just out of words and would come downstairs in bewilderment wondering if there is food in the house. When there were lulls in the project I would throw myself into house projects, or cooking inviting friends to be testers for new recipes from the latest southern living.

This whole learning experience has made me realize how hard it is so live with me. I am thankful for a husband who is reasonably tolerant of my foibles, my children who love or tolerate me. Now that I am no longer chasing the "perfect project" and always wanting to be the "go to girl" I am a little easier to live with. Maybe that is what retirement will do for me, I'll be nicer. I still don't go to bed when my spouse wishes I would since he does have a five day a week job where they expect him to log on and start work by 8:30, true it is in his office down the hall. So to my family or children who might have slogged all the way to the end, I am sorry for not being there when you needed me, or being physically there but obviously gone. I know there are many more things to apologize for, but there is only so much introspection I can do in one day.

 

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Hi, no, hi, ho, it's off to work I go

In April when I knew that my world was imploding I made the decision to take a leave of absence from my "you must" self. I upped my meds enough that I could live with "I'll do it tomorrow" and left my opinions behind. It was nice, I didn't feel the need to fix everything, put everything away and tidy, I was very tolerant of dumb ideas and crazy opinions. My two cents could wait. I made it through losing Zed, kissing my grandson and his mother goodby as they boarded the train for California and beach week with five grandchildren, two step daughters and their spouses. But all good things must end. When I made the decision for a lah, de, dah life I set September as the target to be fully engaged and working.

Today I head out to a job in an office, I packed my lunch and put on my semi grown up clothes (it is a trucking company and this is a repair site) and am heading out to my first day of work. Hopefully I will last! It is an easy job tracking down orders where something is wrong with the data so it didn't load in one of their four systems, fixing the problem and then loading the data. A little sleuthing and a little data entry. I will confess it is a 30 hour a week job and one of our friends hired me. It is only for a few months while he is working on converting all of the systems to a single system. But it gets me up and dressed, gives me something to think about and brings in a little shoe money at the end of the week. Wish me luck!

 

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Things I have learned from a five year old

Things that actually do not have limits

  • Energy
  • Imagination
  • Determination
  • Perseverance
  • Negotiation
  • Joy
For the last three days (a nano second for all full time parents) Ashby has been visiting by himself. Mom is in Baltimore waiting for the movers, and Dad is in Augusta finshing up a course. First he has been amazing, second he has reminded me that children are amazing.

 

He is a little World Cup fan so we negotiated a good nap in exchange for staying up to watch USA play. Mike and some friends came over to watch so he split his time "helping" Uncle Mike fix his car and checking on the game and the appetizers. And like a trouper, after the painful last 20 seconds he came up to bed for a few stories and a kiss.


He has two favorite things - the pool and the possibility to playing with the girl next door. Tess has a pink Jeep and a sense of humor, the pool is the gateway to magic.

The pool. More than anything he wants to join the fraternity of boys who walk off the edge with abandon. He studies them with the intensity of a scientist searching for the key. Do they hold their nose, do they pull up their knees, do they stay near the safety of the edge? For the past few days he has been dancing closer and closer to the goal. Step 1. Abandon the noodle - test where he can stand on his feet and where he can touch on tippy toes and where he can bounce on his toes and still keep his head above water. Back and forth he has gone. Playing catch with Grandpa and Mr Norm, inching closer to the limit, ready to reach back to the Nana who was his shadow, smiling with that little gleam that says, see I did it. Step 2. Playing in the zone. Starting with tossing the ball, and then studying the older kids who were using a Princess kick board as a bat for pool baseball. After they headed out and left the kick board, we played baseball, and then he toyed with jumping on the kick board. Just as I thought we were packing up the Tennis Camp kids and their counselors arrived. Oh what an arrival. Twelve 6 -12 year olds descended on the pool like banshees, and he was enthralled. They were tossed into the pool like laundry bags and bounced back begging for more. A cadre of parents with the B team arrived bringing wee tots and kindergarteners to the mix. And then the most alluring person of all came on the scene. An obviously younger brother came into our zone and proceeded to hold his nose jump in, thrash the 18 inches to the steps and get out, only to repeat the process over and over. Here inches away from my warrior was the challenge. Having survived one quasi accidental cannon ball from the second step that dunked him, he grabbed the kick board and demanded to try to launch himself off the steps time after time. I never knew you could launch, catch, kick and return to repeat in less than one minute. As the kick board holder I was impressed. Each time as I held the board he tested himself. Only the Adult Swim whistle saved us and sent us home. A swim meet kept us from going back later in the afternoon. Weather permitting we are back in the pool tomorrow.

The second lesson is friends rock. Yesterday he met our neighbor child who raced cars with him for an hour. Pink Jeep against Silver BMW. Sadly she was not available today since she had a sitter and another child visiting. It broke my heart to see how much he yearned for a friend no matter how transient. Tomorrow we will see if we can negotiate friend time.

I realize I don't have the fire he has to keep trying, dancing around the challenge, defying the odds each time he leaps for the board, hoping for the friend to pop out on the driveway. It made me realize that my only gift is to keep holding the kick board, no matter how long, to ring on the doorbell and see if she can play, because he is ready and eager to join the fraternity of boys who just jump in.

Years ago there was another golden haired boy who wanted to jump in. My only hope is that I gave him the courage or at least didn't stand in the way of flying.

 

Friday, June 6, 2014

Dear Mom

I l know i haven't written in a while. Wish I could say I was busy but more that I have been pre-occupied. Bruce and I are in SC for the annual event. It has been fun and the guys are tied for first place. Hopefully tomorrow they will play well and their competition will have a few bad holes.

I finally finished installing the drip system for the front and back hay racks. No plants but the irrigation is ready. Every step seems to take forever. I can't work in the heat anymore, after the heat stroke last summer I have to be really careful. But I am determined to get them planted this week. I'll send pictures.

When I look at my house today, I wonder where I went and I haven't cared enough to finish the family room. It makes me remember the year you had the house painted and the new carpet installed. I came to visit and you had not rehung the pictures and I worried about how you were feeling. I understand now. In the scheme of things, it was so unimportant. But I guess it isn't. How our nest feels when we walk in the door sets the stage for everything else, and how we make our family and friends feel when they come in is important. I need to up my game.

Our friends in SC have a new puppy/dog. He is 18 months and cute. But he is a dog, he isn't Zed. I l know I should want to love him up, but I don't. I think I feel more like a dog trainer and want to give suggestions but I don't want him to sleep with me. He isn't Zed.

A few weeks ago a friend gave me some advice about how you go on when the rug is pulled out from under you. We have all lost parents, children, pets, jobs, the touchstones of our lives. We are adrift, our compasses are askew, the things we loved and hated are gone. She said, go everywhere you are invited, be good company, bring a good bottle of wine, thank them for inviting you. Life is short and the pain of loss is paralyzingly, pull up your big girl panties and behave the way you want others to see you and you will grow into that person. Years ago when we lived in Pictou and had a neighbor who was the bane of our existence the advice I got from my friends was treat her the way you wanted her to be, and it worked, within several months she changed and I changed.

I want to be the person who I was, someone welcoming, whose home is comfortable and friendly. Mom, if you are listening, help me let go of my sadness and fears and be that person. I miss you everyday. I miss knowing I could call you and you would patiently listen. I miss knowing you always thought the best of me. Tell Dad I love him.

Love, your daughter.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Dear Mom,

It has been two weeks since we lost Zed. I know I should have told you sooner but I still can't talk about it without crying. I told you he has been getting weaker and the vet said it was just a matter of time. I had brought him to Baltimore the week I came to have lunch with you because I was afraid to leave him alone and he was too sick to stay with the dog sitter.

I know people always say "my dog made me a better person" but he really did. I loved him, I thought about him, and he loved me back without reservation. He loved Bruce best. Bruce spoiled him, he gave him cookies and let him walk willy-nilly across the street. On trips he thought he needed to stop every two hours. I was the tough one. Always saying don't give him so many cookies he is getting fat. When we walked I told him to stay off people's lawns.

He filled a void in my life with his presence. When I drove up he was in the window waiting and would be down the steps to the door to meet me. I could be gone an hour or a week it was always the same. I didn't appreciate how much that meant to me until he was gone.

Some times I think he gave me permission to grieve, to cry for all that has been lost, for you and Dad and Zed. I always tried to keep the stiff upper lip and not be someone others had to tip toe around lest I fall apart but somehow with Zed, I can say "please don't ask me how I am, it is too hard".

It is too hard to lose everything. There is no reason to go home to Baltimore anymore. I am just from there once upon a time. I don't have to plan my errands around Zed's internal clock of 3 hour walks. I can be gone all day and it doesn't matter. I went to the beach with Judi last week because it didn't matter if I was home.

I miss you. I so wish I had actually picked up the phone and called you all the thousand times I thought I should talk to Mom. I want to believe you and Dad and Zed will be there when I cross over the Rainbow Bridge.

Love,

Your daughter

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Domesticity is highly overrated.

I have been home without any "work" since Thanksgiving.  There was a small project that took a few days in February but other than that I have been searching for meaning in cleaning out closets, shredding old files, scanning in pictures from the many boxes, scouring magazines for interesting menus to try.  I am planning healthy menus using an excel sheet so,I don't end up with 6 cans of basil/garlic chopped tomatoes on sale for the unbelievable price of 6 for $3.  I have purged my cupboards of questionable plastic containers, out of date ingredients and spices I brought from Canada (just kidding).  

A trip to The Container Store yielded shelf liners for my wire pantry shelves, an ever so clever divider that let's me stack my sauté pans, another to let me store the many cutting boards, pizza stone and cookie sheet rack.  Now they stand neatly on end waiting to be plucked for use.  And not to be ignored another divider that let's me store the casserole pans, and deep dish pie pan without stacking, and a cute extra shelf to separate my Polish Pottery casseroles.  All of this has led me to believe I am addicted to cooking containers.  This resulted in the mental challenge of incorporating these wonderful, unique containers in MEALS.   

I am starting with the ones that are more suitable for a family of two.   A La individual chicken pot pies in the au gratin dishes, broiled scallops and shrimp in the shallow ceramic baking dish, 2 person meatloafs in the small loaf pans lurking in the cupboard over the stove.  I am exhausted. I want to order pizza.  Planning menus that will use all of the fresh ingredients and leave no leftovers is exhausting.  My sweetie hubby is a willing test subject.  So far the majority of the meals have been winners, only one was horrid - way too much ginger.  I NEED A JOB!   


The Fence

We have lived here for almost ten years and I have enjoyed the view from the deck across my neighbors yard to the 11th fairway and to the trees and sky.  My backyard includes a Winnie the Pooh woods that is a nice privacy block from errant balls but no wonderful long view.

When we first moved here I thought I would put up a fence but I could never imagine one I would like.  The HOA rules only permit a backyard fence that doesn't come out more than 5 feet from one side of the house and is set back at least five feet from your property line and in our case at least 50 feet from the rear edge that abuts the golf course.  It was a very unsatisfactory look and it would double the work of mowing and edging, and in truth our dog is a city dog who isn't very fond of wet grass and would much prefer a nice walk on a sidewalk. 

Until last year our neighbors were a family with young children who were wonderful to watch grow.  We miss them and their energy.  And the roasted marshmallows the kids would bring me when they had a fire in their firepit.  Our new neighbors are nice, they are quiet and not really outdoor people.  But they are fence people.  They have two dogs who are used to having a fenced yard that eliminates the need for walks.  To be fair, she works long hours and his work frequently takes him away all day.  They want a doggy door into a fenced yard so the dogs can come and go as needed.  Today the fence installers came and started digging post holes and erecting the fence.  It is a nice open black iron fence, it will work well for them.  But I suddenly became very protective of my property line.  They seem to have gotten a waiver to extend their fence out from the side of the house to cross their driveway and come up to the five foot set back from my property line.  I watched the installers eyeball the line and wanted to rush out and say wait, do you know where the property marker is because the line does not form a right angle!   All of my busybody thoughts came leaping to the front.  "Don't put the ends of the rods  into the grass, it will make it impossible to edge or use the trimmer."  "You are just eyeballing the setbacks and haven't even referred to the plat."  

As my hubby would say, it is not my problem.  If it is too close to the golf course someone else will complain and I never go down to that back corner of the lot so who cares if it is only a foot from the line.  I do miss the open yards.   Maybe I will plant a hedge.  



Monday, March 17, 2014

Dog knowledge

Zed loves tuna fish.  His idea of sharing is I pour a little juice from the water packed can on his kibble and then add a few bits from the edge of the can for him to savor.  He isn't interested in tuna salad, he likes his straight up.  He is always watchful for tuna day.   

He has been feeling poorly the past few days, sniffing at his meals, sleeping even more than usual.  This afternoon he was asleep upstairs on his blanket on our bed, had been there for quite awhile while I went up and down doing laundry.  Then the "tuna sequence" lured him down the stairs.  The sequence goes like this.   I open the kitchen cabinet and take out a can, then I go to the fridge get out the celery bag, take out a piece to rinse and dice.  The clincher that triggers his must come down for tuna thought is when I open the drawer and get out the can opener.  That is the crucial step he does not want to miss for fear I will forget to share.   After that he waits patiently and attentively while I get his bowl, add a little kibble, a dash or two of tuna juice and the tuna bits.   He doesn't come down for other food preparation, no rushing to see if he can snag a crumb of carrots being sliced or chicken being washed and prepped for cooking.  No, it is all about the tuna.  

After dining on his favorite, he decided to stay downstairs and curled up on his pillow bed.  The good news is he felt well enough to rouse himself for tuna day.   

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Aggravating but not fatal

Went to Dr today for my finger and diagnosis is yes I separated the tendon but the fix is 6 weeks in splint.  If I forget and don't support my finger reset the six week clock and expect a less than perfect heal.   That was the upbeat news.  The Dr was under 30 and a rock climber.  Not too sympathetic to an "older woman" who slipped on the steps.  Given my age I should start hand exercises.  And insult to whatever when I came in midst a stressful day my BP was elevated (by a rock climber ultra thin and fit Dr standard) after the X-ray I was in the exam room for an hour fretting about my poor sick puppy at home only to discover Dr Machiavellian was waiting to take by BP again to see if it went down.  What? I came in for my finger not a lifestyle discussion.  I need a Dr over 60 with some sympathy!!

Sunday, February 16, 2014

It's not a Benson holiday unless someone goes to the ER

I passed on the ER, nothing will change before I get home.  Injury to the DIP joint, need to find out if the tendon is torn or separated.  Slipped going up the steps and pushed my finger into the riser.  Funny thing is the bruise on my leg hurts more.  Maybe I won't have to wash dishes for a week!

Friday, February 14, 2014

A wonderful week

 Since Thanksgiving we have been in limbo. We were both unemployed without any real idea of what was on the horizon. Bruce attacked the task of finding work with the same diligence he gives to projects it was every day, networking, posting on job boards.  But December is a tough month to become employed.  I picked up a little project that started mid-January but still no bites for hubby.  And then he started getting calls that had possibility.  It seemed to be narrowing down to two.  But after rounds of interviews one was the clear favorite and converted to an 18 month contract offer with a company in Charlotte with very little travel. We still don't know if he has to go into town every day or have a split schedule.  The job didn't start until after the holiday so we took ourselves to West Virginia for the week.  The snow has been perfect for skiing and no one was around at the beginning of the week so Bruce got lots of ski time with no lift lines.  

It has been very peaceful for me. Zed is here and seems to be enjoying the change.  The mountain air has given him an appetite and the new smells brought in by the winds have persuaded him to leave his bed to bark at the door.  

We got new snow all day yesterday along with the rest of the east and high winds last night drifted it up and over the cars. Bruce dug out a path for Zed to get from door to driveway.  True to his old habits Zed cannot poop too close to home.  In desperation he dashes across the street to Amy's garage but today the plow had just come down the road so he got to wander up the road searching for the perfect spot.  Challenge is he will walk until he starts to shiver and if he is too far from home he needs a ride back. We head home on Monday to start our new regular time.  I'll miss being here even though I am going a little stir crazy with nothing to do.  Maybe tomorrow I will be venture out to town in search of parts for dinner.  


Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Tips to remember

If the door to the bathroom is shut tight, do not put on hand cream before opening the door.  

Friday, February 7, 2014

A good day

Zed is a very sick dog.  He has renal failure.   The future is day by day. At this stage there are some things we can do to make him more comfortable, to extend the number of days that he is here with us.   Today was a good day.  Zed popped up by himself at 8 and wanted to go out.  He is still drinking lots of water and ate some each time we made him a small meal.  He came down to meet us when we came in and actually perked up and barked at a noise in the backyard.  

But I am counting our time together with good and bad days.  Bad days I have to wake him up at 9 and carry him down for the morning walk.  He usually has a drink of water and a sniff of breakfast before going over to the family room sofa, moving next to the den and finally retreating to our room.  We have "his" blankets everywhere but his favorite is an old baby blanket that I keep on my bed.  On a good day he is gently tucked sleeping, on bad days he is curled like a little bug.  

The challenge with proud little dogs is they don't show pain, and they can't tell you how they feel.  I know the end is near, but on good days I see every sign as hopeful.  Nothing will change or reverse the disease.  The treatments are bandaids that temporarily lessen the symptoms and make him more comfortable but they don't reverse the inevitable, they just delay the end.  

He was always the last best dog for us.  Zed. He exceeded all of our expectations and rewarded us daily with his love.  My prayer is that I will have the courage to do what is best for him when the time comes and not what is best for me.  

Sunday, January 19, 2014

No fear

My daughters have given their sons the confidence to try. Many years ago when Jon and J were young they came out to WV to learn to snowboard.  And they did. No fear.  They listened to their coaches and practiced and practiced on the mountain and they won!  This year Ashby came over and believed that his coach would take him down the mountain.  His Mom got him ready and was his cheerleader telling him it would be great.  Weekend 1 it was okay.  A few rough patches but he persevered.  Weekend 2 he soared.  He got his groove on.  No more "baby ski wedgies" no more holding his coaches hand.  He skied the course using his edges, sliding his skis for turns.  And then he did the two mile run.  Not only did he ski it, without falling down, but he trusted his coach to take him up the big lift to the top of the mountain, skied off and headed down.  Jay and Jon know what a huge step that is the first time you do the Silver Queen.  No going back, no mid-station.  You are committed to go to the top.   Yeah to the daughters!! Yeah to the grandsons!   

Ja

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

New Year, New Broom

Evil spirits, gremlins, gloomy days begone.  We woke up on New Years morning having shared a midnight toast (with very yummy champagne and chambord) to a sprinkling of snow.  After sharing good-byes and a quick change of linen, we got to welcome Meagan, Mike and Ashby for several days of winter sports.  Despite a pinched nerve Meagan made the trip to introduce Ashby to skiing. Bruce was back in ski instructor mode and negotiated a trade of work for a lesson for Ashby.  

It was a strange holiday on the mountain. New Years fell mid week and lots of people had to be back at work the day after so Thursday ended up being an ordinary day with uncrowded slopes and  no lift lines, a perfect day for a beginning skier.  Despite my worries about Ashby being tentative about getting geared up and heading off with a stranger to ride up the lift and stare down the mountain, he was amazing.  His ski instructor is one of the best with kids (who don't whine) and he won Ashby's trust and with 30 minutes he was on the lift heading up to the top of the bunny slope.  Way to go Ashby.  

Home now I have begun to clean out clutter.  We are a tiny house of two with occasional small gatherings of friends but my pantry looked like I was feeding a horde regularly.  So I started reading "best by dates" and tossing expired boxes and cans.  My detective work found that I stopped entertaining, where I put in real effort, when Bruce fell. I have never gone back to doing parties with a theme, researched food, fun drinks ...   How else did I end up with two jars of fluff that had separated.  Who knew fluff could expire?  My goal is to get my basics corralled back to the cupboards in the kitchen, well just the regular basics, the four kinds of sugar, three canisters of flour and oils and vinegars, popcorn, 12 rolls of paper towels (you get the idea) can still have their own shelf (shelves) in the pantry.  Ok the goal is to keep the pantry up to date.  So if you come for dinner in the next 30 days expect to be served couscous or rice, with variations until I can tame the many choices living in my pantry.  

On to resolutions.  1. Pare down, who needs six spare pillows that really need to move on, and those very cute red heels that still hurt my feet, and many, many things that are stuff. 2. Spend more time with family and friends.  Hospitality is the healing oil that brings and keeps families and friends together.  So if I see you know I will ask what you would like to have for dinner and as a good Southerner I will ask what do you drink.  I'll keep you posted on my progress on both.  PS. No you cannot have my six shells for crab imperial, or the Christmas and Thanksgiving plates, or the dessert shot glasses. I need the for a party!

 

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...