Fred Wasn’t Impressive

After preparing our home for the approach of Tropical Storm Fred, was a bit disappointed that all we are getting today are clouds and a light rain. Regardless, we are very thankful Fred wasn’t a category 4 or 5 that smashed into our section of the Gulf Coast. My prayers are with those folks in the Florida panhandle area.

The next storm, Grace, is strolling up along nearly the same path. That’s bad news for Puerto Rico, Cuba and the areas Fred just came through. The current path has the storm again heading out into the Gulf. Nevertheless, we shall stay prepared. We have plenty of water, canned goods (a manual can opener) and have moved and outside furniture that could become airborne, into our shed.

Still, I love living in Florida. This area has a few weather challenges, but nothing we can’t handle. I grew up in Northeast Ohio, a survivor of the Blizzard of ’77-’78. I come from hearty stock, rooted in the hills of West Virginia and Kentucky. A little rain and wind, ah, we got this…hold my umbrella drink!

Take care, Friends! Be kind to one another!

The Hole in My Heart

For fifteen years, met at the door by my dog, Chewy. His bubbly personality, always happy to see me, ready for head scratches and belly rubs. Stalking me from room to room, but sometimes would get bored and look for another family member to track. If one of us were out, pacing and whining until all his humans were safely back home. But this last week, no more.

Unfortunately, old age caught up with Chewy quite quickly over the last six months or so. He became blinded by cataracts, slowed by arthritis attacking his joints, and quite possibly some type of neurological distress, all which contributed to hacking away at the lively little Lhasa Apso we’d all come to love and adore.

The heart-wrenching decision was made and Chewy was sent on his way to that “better place” where he will no longer suffer from his ailments. My family is broken, feeling this loss deeply. Fond memories bring tears. A lot of tears. We each experience the emptiness in different ways, we hug and console each other as best we can.

I think the time of day where I most miss my little buddy is at night. Chewy seemed to know when it was getting close to my bedtime and begin to give me “that look”. I’d ask if he was ready for bed, Chewy would jump down from the couch and walk towards the bedroom. Some nights he would jump up on the bed and wait for his blanket to be placed just right in his spot near my feet. Other nights when he wanted to snuggle close, he would burrow himself in beside me and drift off, all the while giving off enough body heat to take the chill off a large building.

I miss that little bed hog. More than I ever thought possible. Chewy was more than just a dog. He was an integral part of the family. The one constant we call could count on, giving unconditional love and support, no matter what the situation. A nudge, a kiss, a paw…exactly what was needed, exactly when needed.

No one else will ever fill this hole left in my heart. It’s your spot, Chewy. You will always be with me.

Lottery Woes

Yes, I’d love to win the lottery.  The Powerball drawing got to somewhere around $500 million on a recent round.  As Bill and I were walking one evening, we discussed what we might do with such a windfall.  Buy a house on the island? How much could we give each of the kids?  Definitely pay off any debt.  There is that dream car he wants…the black Trans Am from the “Smokey & the Bandit” movie.  We could open our own tattoo shop.  Travel extensively, for sure.  Charitable contributions?  What about investments?

But, as the saying goes, “you can’t win if you don’t play” and I’ve not been playing.

Of course, I understand money does not make one happy.  I’m already happy, so that’s not an issue.  My use of the money would enhance my current level of happiness and that of my family.  Accomplishing any the items listed above could certainly do just that.  Who wouldn’t love to give large chunks of money to their kids, travel wherever you wish, or make a sweet donation to a favorite charity?

I admire the folks who anonymously give of their fortunes to those in need. I love hearing at the holiday season of a Salvation Army bell ringer finding an extra special donation in their bucket.  I can see myself as a Secret Santa type, spreading joy to children who may otherwise do without.  Nothing sweeter than the smile of a child, right?

Along with such a win comes financial responsibility.  I admit, this is the last thing I will think about.  I’ll want to start planning vacations and purchases, not wise investments.  That’s where Bill comes in.  He’s my rock, my sensible side, the sane voice on my shoulder saying, “Hey, you are out of control.  This is how we’re going to work it.”  And he will be right.

Winning the lottery is a life changing event.  What would you do with $500 million?


Thursday On My Mind

Why does Thursday take longer to arrive than any other day, and then it hangs on like you’ve no place else to be…ever?  Even with an absolutely gorgeous day here on the Gulf Coast, the day drags.

I do like Thursday, it feels like an accomplishment to me when it finally arrives.  I know I’ve already gone through most of the week, with only one more day to the weekend.  If I’ve had a busy work week, things tend to simmer down by Thursday afternoon.  This makes Friday simply a breeze in the wind!

Thursday evening is also a quiet night at home.  Bill and Cody go bowling, leaving me home with Chewy.  Although he’s a male dog, we call it “Girl’s Night”.  We can make whatever we want for dinner, watch whatever we want on TV, and go to bed early if we wish…and frequently, we do.  Tonight, I believe a bath is on the agenda for Chewy, which he will protest, but it is futile…we must make an effort combat any case of Swamp Ass the little dude may be festering.

Until last week, I would watch one of my favorite TV shows each Thursday, “Parenthood”.  Since I go to bed before it aired, the DVR was set to catch it for me.  Sadly, last week I watched the last episode of the series…and yes, cried my eyes out!  That’s another reason I wouldn’t watch it when the Guys were home.  They didn’t need to see what a slobbery mess I became.  I do think they closed up the series nicely, bringing each story full circle but also leaving viewers with a bit to ponder.  I would love to own the whole series on DVD so I could watch it all again…Kleenex box in hand, of course!

I have several movies backed up on the DVR, thinking I may watch “The Grand Budapest Hotel” tonight.  Looks interesting, and certainly not something the Guys would enjoy.  Sounds like a perfect “Girl’s Night” for Chewy and I.

Enjoy your day…and yes, the weekend is coming! No, your clock is really NOT running in reverse.  It’s simply Thursday!

Grandma Leona’s Stuffing

What’s the difference between stuffing and dressing?  I don’t know, but I certainly cannot have Thanksgiving dinner without Grandma Leona’s Sausage Stuffing with my turkey.

I made a batch of it this morning. This is the real deal folks, homemade bread stuffing. The process started two days ago when I took a loaf of bread out of the bag and arranged it in my giant stainless steel bowl to dry out.  This is the point when the holidays begin to feel real to me…and my husband begins his eye-rolling exercises because I become a ten-year-old as I dive head first into preparations and decorating.

Making this famous stuffing really is not difficult.  It starts when I nervously get my scary sharp kitchen scissors to cut the bread into cubes. (Nervous because once I nipped the end of my little finger with these while trimming a rose stem…six stitches!) Then I sprinkle all the spices on the bread cubes…lots of sage, ground black pepper, garlic powder, and salt.  I beat an egg and pour over the cubes.  I love cooking diced onion in butter, it smells delicious to me.  That gets mixed with the sausage after its browned, and mixed into the bread cubes. Moisten it all with chicken broth and make sure it is mixed well.

This is where my version parts ways with Grandma’s.  Instead of jamming all this goodness into the turkey, I warm it in the crock pot.  I keep it from drying out by drizzling chicken broth over it while it heats through.  Hey…I think I just figured out the stuffing versus dressing thing!

All this has me feeling nostalgic.  We had wonderful feasts when I was a kid.  Grandma and my Mom would tag team it, creating the most amazing meals.  Strange maybe, but one of my most vivid memories is of Grandma’s gravy boat.  It’s part of her set of Franciscan China in the Apple pattern.  This year, I am setting the table with Grandma’s dishes, that cute gravy boat included!

I learned to create those awesome meals for my husband and sons.  I like to think Grandma would be proud of me!

Six AM Thunder Buddy

Something about an impending thunder storm sets Chewy’s spidey-sense on edge.  For ten minutes before the lightening even starts, he’s whimpering from his spot at the foot of the bed.  Soon he’s inching towards me so that right about when the first crack of thunder hits, he’s wrapped around my neck.

Interestingly, Lhasa Apso dogs were originally bred in Tibet to guard the Buddhist monasteries, alerting the Monks to intruders.  Huh.

Once Chewy is cuddled in close and shaking like a baby rattle, whimpering continues until the last flash and boom are a faded memory.  He peeks out occasionally to check if the storm is still brewing, but is content under a blanket until the end, as long as he’s being hugged tightly.  Once the storm is over, he follows his humans around for awhile, keeping at least one of us in sight in case the storm returns and he needs a hug.

This is how today began for me.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Chewy is part of our family, our baby, best friend, and confidant.  We care for his every need, and he showers us with undying devotion and dragon-breath kisses.

Happy Tuesday, Everyone!


I take our Lhasa Apso out around 6:30 a.m. for his morning business meeting.  I say “around” because I’m not a morning person and hate the sound of the alarm, thus my timing is inaccurate.  But Chewy (yes, Chewbacca, for you Star Wars fans!) has impeccable timing most mornings and knows exactly what time he’s scheduled to roll.

Before the Fall time change when it was still dark  outside, I decided my attire didn’t matter.  The few other dog walkers I encounter and those bleary-eyed neighbors leaving for work could not decipher that I’m wearing ratty shorts and the t-shirt I slept in.  Now that it is daylight when we go out, time for a fashion overhaul?  Nope…I have no shame!  The temps have dipped a bit, so I’m out there in my blue plaid flannel pants and the t-shirt I slept in.  Chewy has never uttered a complaint.

Chewy has been in our family since 2000.  When our boys were young, they would play rough with him and he loved it.  Being a small fluffy dog, he was great for spinning on the tile kitchen floor.  He hates getting a bath, will bark and run crazy circles around the house trying to shake the water off himself.  I always say he’s the only baby I have left, since our boys are in their 20’s.  So yeah, I’ve spoiled him.

Maybe like me, you have wondered what a dog’s thought process involves.  Chewy will trot happily along, then stop suddenly to sniff absolutely nothing for five minutes.  I’ve seen him deathly afraid of dried leaves blowing across the street near him.  Strangely, he doesn’t give a second’s notice to another dog barking at him, even if said dog is bigger.  The rear-end sniffing ritual seems to be a contest to Chewy, as he will attempt to stealthily sniff the other dog when it isn’t looking.  Once that dog wants to sniff him, he gets snarly and walks away. Doesn’t seem fair, but what do I know?

Chewy may be eternally grateful his humans now live in Florida.  In Ohio when it got cold, we put a sweater on him to go outside.  Some dogs seem to love clothes.  Chewy is not one of them.  The second he spots the red and white striped contraption, life visibly drains from his furry little face.  He hangs his head and will not make eye contact.  When we slide it over his head, he shakes violently as if he can shred the monster that has enveloped him.  It’s hilarious to watch.

Maybe now I’ll shop for a Hawaiian shirt.  Do they sell flip flops for dogs?  Never mind, Chewy would eat them anyway.