Wednesday, February 27, 2013

finally march

Yes it is, and Monday I removed all evidence of February and dragged out the Easter decorations.

This little funny trinket is something Pam gave us many years ago.  I removed it from the mad clutches of Miss p.j. and put it in a higher place.   By some miracle it may be the only trinket in the home which is not glued back together.

What we about can't stand another MINUTE of is this long, stupid winter.  It's not about Valentine's decorations vs. Easter doo-dads.

You know what it is?  I am finding myself too much affected by one situation in my life that has reached a crescendo where I feel actually abused.  It's not good, and the way it's affecting me is honestly terrible, which is something I have to face.   I'm working on solutions, but right now today, slogging on is the only answer.

That's a bad answer, but this is a downfall of me:  I put up, and put up, and make excuses for people, and keep on trying until all at once I'm DONE, and I'm really done then--gone-and-never-look-back-done.    I should have taken this more seriously before it was to this point.  It was foolish not to.

This is the thing--what's going on, what I can't really talk about here doesn't even matter--it's that I need to wise up and get real sooner.    Will I never learn?  Why is that?  I'm not actually even a dumb person for the most part.   In this aspect?   A complete idiot.

 But I get to spend the morning with cute people.


And one last lone sick person.    I hope these diseases don't make another trip through the family.

We need to feel well.  We need spring, a new outlook, new places to be.   (She's infesting her germs onto the new bedspread Pam gave us. It's okay.  It's washable.)

Maybe just March will help.  It starts as winter and ends as spring, so onward.  Sorry to have hated you so much February, even though it's totally not your fault.     love, Val

Saturday, February 23, 2013

old friends and rewarding endings

Old friends came for supper last night.   We met these people almost thirty years ago through strange circumstances.

They adopted a dog we had stolen from the neighbors.


David with Thor and Josie

Normally we are not thieves or dognappers, but this dog was in trouble.

The neighbor kids and ours played together and on a July afternoon I noticed their little golden retriever was gone.  She usually was tied to her dog house in the back yard.   The lady told me they'd put her in the garage because the flies were biting her.

I said, "That's weird.  I wonder why?"

"Well, we put a collar on her when she was little and now we can't get it off, so she's got a sore spot."

Oh, wow. I didn't know that could happen.   I could see Josie in the dim light in the garage, tail wagging

I asked what they were going to do.  "Todd's going up north this weekend and he's going to take her up there.  His buddy has a bolt cutter so they can get the collar off."

Good idea.

Well, the weekend came, and they were obviously not away for the weekend, coming and going.  The dog wasn't seen.

(Their previous dog had died of neglect, so I was worried.)

I appealed to Jay to go over there and check on her, see if she was dead or what.

Josie, the next morning


 He didn't really want to, but after I bugged him a bit he wandered down there.  In a few minutes he was back with the dog. He said she was there without water, tied to the bumper of a broken pick up truck. Now she was in our back yard running around, drinking from an ice cream pail.

The neck was way bad--way worse than I could have ever imagined, and the dog was skeletal.  Goo full of maggots hung down and when she ran around the yard she started to bleed.   We debated what to do for a little while, then it seemed obvious--she had to go to the emergency vet and be put to sleep.

Jay called Paul to please come help, and the two of them drove off with the dog, and came back without her.

The vet said he could take care of it--knock her out, remove the collar, clean the wound and she'd be fine.

(The humane society did eventually prosecute this case against the owner.)

The guys picked her up later in the evening, and carried her down to a bed in our laundry room.  At first she was so puny and sick she couldn't walk up and down the stairs, and she was pretty pitiful being carried like a baby, but she loved chasing tennis balls.   I can picture her cute face now over Jay's shoulder tennis ball sticking out the side.

It took scrubbing with Lysol and days with the windows open to get the odor out of the car.

party at Jeanne and David's


 Within just a few weeks her energy was better and she was healing fast.   We put out an ad to find her a home, and these people who came to dinner last night are the people who took her home to be a friend to their other golden, Thor.   Her hair grew in thick and curly red, hid the scar around her neck almost entirely, and she lived a happy life in their home--lived to be fourteen years old.


 Josie and Thor above, Dan and Thor below:





We've kept in touch mostly by Christmas cards and phone calls, and when I was at Metro State University, coincidentally Jeanne became my advisor, which was very nice for me, having an advisor I loved and admired.

Last fall we went out looking at houses with Jeanne's daughter, and we decided we wanted to get together and spend some real time together, so the four of us have.   They brought their current golden retriever Buddy along last night.  He's a tall, long-legged boy with a pretty face. The kids were excited and the dogs had fun.

And that is the happy ending of that fine story.

Josie's graduation from obedience class

Jeanne and David,  thank you for all the happiness your friendship has brought us.  We are so lucky to have you.    love,  Val and Jay and everybody

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

officially bored on wednesday

We totally are.  We're almost cracking up.  It's very, very cold out.  We're sick of winter.

She insisted on these pants because of the monkeys.

 These are some hyper kids making a fort out of the sheets.

 And those two don't care if it's barely above zero.


Here we go:

 I found some warm pictures on the F drive.

Okay, enough of that.  Time to get to work.

Happy Wednesday.   love, Val


Monday, February 18, 2013

here we go monday, here we go

It's gloomy and dark this morning, as she set about her daily strewing of random junk over the house.  It's the age.  A friend said they're like raccoons at two, with the wandering around making messes.   The good part is there are a lot more people in the house who neaten than mess these days, so it's not a big deal.


Back in the day when there were many mess-makers and I was the only neatener, it could get pretty annoying and tiresome.  There was a particular type of mess I hate the most.  I called it the "Dump and Stir."

That was when they'd dump out a bunch of stuff and mix it up: puzzles, potato heads, fisher price crap, on it went--time consuming to sort all that out again.

Then we decided to carry in the milk man food.  He comes on Monday morning.  Sunday night Jay fills out the slip telling him what we want and staples on a check for last week's food.     We get milk and Yo-J, but he also has pizza and frozen soup, Moo Jrs and eggs.   It's a little more expensive than the grocery store, but not too much.   He's been coming by for maybe fifteen years now?  It's a good thing.  He also has dishsoap and trash bags and a few other random, weird items that are actually kind of handy.

Anyway, she HATES wearing shoes or a jacket, but she agreed to quick put them on so she could help carry in the milk man food.  (Old Easter shoes from her aunties?  That's what she showed up in this morning.)   But then, as fast as she put them on, she tore them off again like they were giving her a bad itch.

That's okay.  We just carried in the milk man stuff without her.  She held the door and kept saying, "It's cold."

Then I realized there was someone in the office.  Who??  Jay's at work.   In a few minutes, I could hear a little voice chattering away all alone.   I knew who it was.

 Her, hiding out working on her papers in peace at Dad's desk.  There you go. That works.

Now it's time to get out of these pajamas and get some things done around here.

Happy Monday, and it's worth noting we are just that much closer to spring, and Yay for that.   love, Val

Sunday, February 17, 2013

thirty four years

Yep, it's our anniversary today.

It was a great day, lots of kids and fun, dinner just the two of us.

Onward.

love you Buddy, always,   love Me

Thursday, February 14, 2013

beautiful day, valentine's day 2013

 It snowed overnight, heavy warm air, flakes swirling at the windshield as I drove home.  This morning, perfect winter beautiful.

And not even cold.  It's over 30 degrees out.



 And these, presented this morning--elaborate hand made Valentines.




Tonight it's dinner with old friends and a pretty fine Thursday it is. 

Happy Valentine's Day.   love you all, Mom, Grandma, Val

Monday, February 11, 2013

Saturday, February 9, 2013

his fourth birthday

My Sweetie is turning four this week, and earlier in the week I called his parents (busy, working a lot, and sick at their house too) and said pretty much, "I have four days off, and I want to see my grandchild for his birthday."

So they helped us figure it out and tonight was it.  Everyone came and John bought take-out Chinese and it was a great night.

See the Sweetie above in his new roller skates?  HAZARDOUS.  But he liked them.

 Tim had a haircut today.   We went to the shop and they told us it would be an hour wait.  Good grief, an HOUR?  I had a couple things to pick up at a grocery store next door, so I told them I'm leaving him here to wait and I'll be back shortly.     When I came back less than 30 minutes later, they were cutting his hair.  "You said it'd be an hour!"   Well, we were wrong.   He looks so good though with a fresh haircut.  On the way home he told me the lady called him, "Nim."    Nim is a cute name.

 Here we've got your gifts being opened.






Sweetie knew how to advance a birthday party.  (Think he's been to a few?)   When he wanted to open presents, he found me, "I think it's present time."   When he thought we should have cake (we were soooo stuffed from the chow mein) he was there in my arms again, "Gramma, I think it's cake time."








 After cake, the energy continued to escalate.

Someone came upstairs to ask whether I cared if they jumped on the futons in the basement of the family room.  No, I do not care, just so nobody gets hurt.

There were some objections, but really--they're old futons, obviously indestructible.   My mom bought the kids futons for college for the first four kids--a lovely gift.  One wooden one kind of fell apart in time.  Pine is soft and it had a lot of use.   But these others are fiercely strong. When Little Jay went to college, I had to tell my parents the truth--we have three futons available to Little Jay right now. One is at the cabin.  The other two are in the basement.  Futons never die.
 







And then everyone gathered up their rowdy party-goers and headed home, all the wild dogs, and wild kids, and Little Jay headed back to the university, and the house became very, very quiet.

Sweetie?  Four whole years of you?  I cannot even imagine life without you?  How did we?  Who were we then?

I can't even remember.   This whole family is so much better with you in it, and we're nothing but lucky, and we know it.

When you hugged me and thanked me for the gifts and for baking you a cake, I told you, "Thank you for being my kid," and that's the way I've always felt.   Happy Birthday.   We love you so, Grandma and Grandpa and everybody