May 2011 Archives

I just watched Hudson do the classic "try to go through the gate with a mouthful of big sticks" thing. He stopped only briefly. Then just powered his way through, twigs snapping and leaving a trail. He settled in, destroyed most of the sticks, then carried the last large piece over to Max. Looked like he was asking if Max wanted some. But the offering apparently wasn't up to Max's high standards. Plus, he was busy guarding the bird feeders from squirrels.

They are funny dogs. Max is two years older than Hudson. They both are 75 pounds. Hudson is tall and lean, and Max is short and stocky.

One of these days I'll have their DNA tested and find out what kind of dogs they really are. Max is definitely a hunting breed. Hudson, well, depending on what he's doing, or how he is sitting, I see boxer, lab, possibly some doberman.

Plus whatever breed tends to fall off furniture a lot.

Max also has a lot of enduring qualities, but my favorite is his beautiful, graceful howl. He sits at the edge of the deck, lowers his head to the side, and on the upswing starts a melodic wail. Sirens always trigger it, and occasionally the two dogs next door will start howling, so he joins in there too. Hudson is pretty quiet most of the time. Max makes up for it.

Either way, they are good company since I am home all the time now. Sheaness has only one more day of school. (Yay.) She's got a busy summer. Plus she'll get her restricted driver's license. That is also mostly a yay, minus Mom's normal apprehension. Thus far she has proven a conscientious driver. Her first vehicle is going to be Ruby, which is kind of cool.

(Ruby is the red truck I got in 2003. I gave it to Bill when I got Jalepeno.)

So at the end of last school year, Shea got Cadet of the Year in NJROTC. They had two such awards - one for the 1st year cadets (which she was), and a second for everyone else. She won Cadet of the Year again a few weeks ago.

And as I write this her GPA is 4.66. (Not a typo. She takes Honors classes.) (Five of her seven classes this year were Honors classes. ROTC is not an honors class, and neither was bodybuilding. (Not a typo.))

She looks like an admiral in her dress blues. There is just no way not to be proud of her.

And no way not to be excited at the prospect of hanging out with her for the summer. (Not to mention being able to send her to the grocery store.)

In other news, after almost three decades, my Dad finally closed his pool hall. It was a labor of love from the whole family to help him sort and clean and box up years of memories.

The spirit is still here. Dad and Mom converted their jacuzzi room into a single-table billiard room. Dad took his favorite pool table, his card table and chair, plus a few other special things, and made a mini Mr. T's. It's so fun to see his friends call his cell phone and ask if they can come over and play pool.

Dad has also started going to the senior center to play cards. He really enjoys it, but he beats everyone, and we told him they weren't going to play with him any more if he kept at it.

So life is a little different these days, but a lotta nice.

And more to come.

Seems like forever between now and then.

I've been distracted. But to the good.

I have officially retired my road warrior position. And dismissed the auto-pilot. (I'm sure she'll find work elsewhere.)

My last two trips were back-to-back weeks in DC. (Which seemed fitting in a way that is going to take a memoir to explain.)

The next time I fly it will be because I want to. (And because there is music at the other end.)

In other news, I tired quickly of Facebook, but will check it periodically over the next few days because Sheaness took a picture of the grilled cheese sandwiches I cooked for her the other night, and she has threatened/promised to post said picture.

There were multiple inputs into this culinary failure.

First, the bread was squashed on the way home, so it wasn't the same shape as the cheese slices. Second was the wrong pan. Third was wrong temperature applied to the wrong pan. Resulting in stuck sandwiches of funny size that then didn't fit the one spatula I have. What I was able to flip over fell open, spilling the not-yet-melted non-conforming bits of sliced cheese into the way-too-hot pan.

On the plus side, I did NOT set off the smoke detector, AND Shea said the sandwiches were, "Quite tasty."

I may or may not have laughed myself into one or more fits of tears. Which of course would also go on the plus side.

My idea this morning to start making her breakfast smoothies was rejected when she learned I would simply mix together what she already eats most mornings: toast, watermelon yogurt, and a glass of chocolate Instant Breakfast.

She made a face. Which only served to encourage me to imagine (out loud to her) her dinner last night as a smoothie: chicken on the bottom, then a layer of vegetables, and some Mango V8 on the top.

"Don't forget the cantaloupe," she says, as she laughs. But then I think she actually imagined it, because she made a new face, this one indicating dry heave. So I dropped it and let her finish her yogurt.

What a great kid she is. She got me a huge basket of red impatiens for Mother's Day, and said with a smile, "I figure you will be spending a lot of time in the back yard now..."

She was right. The flowers are sitting right in the middle of the deck. At the moment they are getting a thorough soaking compliments of Mother Nature. It's a cool rainy day.

Good day for a grilled cheese sandwich.