Happy Days

Gathering

There was a gathering last week for (Dad’s/Grampy’s) Bill’s birthday!  And our once quiet little house in rural Virginia became a beehive of activity with lots of talking, shouting, and barking from Elsa-the-dog, all vying to be heard to catch up on our lives.

And there was the birthday boy of course.  There were MaltShop Music DVDs from the 1950’s as a backdrop.  What fun.  What memories.  A chocolate birthday cake with chocolate icing was a hit too.

Dining Delight

I made a new dish for dinner which is now a family fave.  It is called Sausage and Linguine.  Basically it is just that with a few other things like red peppers.  It was a major hit though.  Nothing like a recipe with 5 or less ingredients.

Playing with a Rescue Dog

Elsa Loves Son Corky, who managed to actually play with her.  Elsa does not know how to play.  She runs away from squeaky toys (afraid they are crying and hurt), will not fetch a ball or play tug-o’-war either.  Sad.  But she loves Corky.  He treats her like a puppy, challenges her by showing and hiding treats and and Elsa wags her tail and acts much like a puppy even though she is 7 years old now.

Laughter Lingers

It was a lovely day for Bill’s birthday with calls and cards, and gifts and lots and lots of love.  The GrandGirls left first, returning to D.C., South Carolina and Michigan to resume their busy lives.  Then we had time with son Corky and daughter-in-law Emmy – time for shopping, talking, laughing, planning.  It was all such fun and we loved every minute, but they are all gone now.

The house is quiet again except for a couple of thunder storms.  Elsa is frightened and shaking under my desk at my feet.  I’m sure she misses Corky and all the other big humans who were here such a short time ago.

Ditto.

 

 

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When I was Seventeen

Flowers from our friends of 56 years – Janet, Pam, Deb, and Scott – Thank you!

It was a very good year.

It was when I met Bill.

I told my Mom I had finally met a real “man” because Bill was all of 21.

My Dad didn’t like him.

We were married anyway, three years later.

Today is another anniversary.

Today we have been married 60 years!

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A Son’s Special Visit

Corky and Mack

My son is here visiting after the great graduation celebration.  It is always wonderful to see him because he lives so far away in California.

This visit is extra special  though –  1) because of the graduation, and 2) because we saw all three grandgirls, 3) because Corky extended his stay and we can catch up on his life, and 4) because he is so darned helpful.

All in the space of a few days:

• He moved umbrellas  and heavy pots to get us ready for summer.
• He added a music app to our computers and phones.
• He helped his Dad with technical things in the car.
• He found us a highly recommended Handy Man.
• He solved the problem of stink bugs in the tractor gas tank. (How did they get in there anyway?)
• He installed dark blinds in the guest bedroom so guests can sleep longer now.
• And more.

He is our pride and joy anyway, but this visit has to be marked down as special and this is our way of saying “Thank you son.  We love you.”

 

 

 

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Getting Down to Elsa’s Level

Elsa is beginning to love and trust, but it’s a long haul.

As difficult as it is, I now aim for the floor to meet her on her own level. Elsa is our little rescue dog who has been with us for three months. 

Getting up from the floor is the challenge of course but Big Foot (swollen foot that is now Slim Foot) is allowing weight bearing moves!

At first Elsa seemed confused and suspicious when I hit the carpet but she decided in two days it might be acceptable (if not alarmingly odd) human behavior.

She comes closer now when I am down there, close enough for a belly rub but not quite near enough for a hug.

We are making slow but positive progress.

Yesterday while Elsa and I were connecting on the floor,

the looming shadow of a man-person emerged. 

Gentle Bill wanted to join the party too and was on his way down.

Immediately alarmed, Elsa gave a mighty jump and hit her head on the coffee table. Then she crouched nearby in a terror pose.

She finally realized we humans were down there for family love and noone wanted to hurt her.

She inched closer, sat between us, and rolled over for double belly rubs.

This is true progress because Elsa cringes when we try to pat her head and shows unmistakable signs of previous abuse.

For now,  with patience and gentle handling,

Elsa is beginning to love and trust, but it’s a long haul.

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Meant to Be?

Russell Terrier

Monday was PT Day.  Those are the initials for Physical Therapy of course.  I am trying hard to join the current initial-speaking generation whilst also re-learning how to walk.

Anyway, believe it or not (and I can’t believe it myself), I saw a wonderful thing when  entering the Physical Therapy center.

I saw a beautiful, sweet little DOG! 

A dog at PT?  Yup!

And although I didn’t have the nerve to take a photo, please

picture this:

• A lady was lying on her back on the therapist’s table.
• The therapist was seated at her head and manipulating the lady’s neck.
• And on the patient’s abdomen was the most adorable little dog I have ever seen.

She (the dog) was stretched out on her Mistress’ stomach and looked up when I walked in (the dog – not the lady). Then she stared at me (the dog) and I stared at her until we both got tired of looking.  Actually I never tired of looking but while awaiting my turn with the therapist I pretended to read a magazine but kept sneaking looks at the amazing little creature.

At the end, they put the little dog down on the floor and she came right over to me for a greeting, an ear rub, and immediate love!

“Do you have another like her you want to get rid of?” I asked the lady.

“Funny you should ask,” was the answer. “Birdie just had puppies.  There are 3 left.  Someone is coming in two weeks to choose one of the 3.  The therapist wants another.  And there will be one left.  All 3 are calm like Birdie.”

Birdie is a Russell Terrier, a derivation of the Jack Russell.  These are  very active hunting dogs but the “Russell” (minus the Jack) is breeder-described as a couch potato!

Now I ask you, “Is this meant to be?”

I will know in about two weeks.

 

 

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The Almost Royal Wedding

 

This was another wedding yesterday, May 19, 2018.

It was the same day as the actual Royal Wedding at Windsor of Prince Harry to Meghan Markle, but this event was in Georgetown, District of Columbia, U.S.A.

And it was the almost royal wedding of our little friend, Suzanne (half English) to the enormous love of her life, sweet Michael.  Suzanne is a grownup now of course, but we met her when she was born.

Her Mom is from England (of the sweet, elegant, but lots of fun variety) and her Dad was an all American boy who spread his delightful brand of happiness all the way across the ocean and back to our house in rural Virginia.

The wedding was spine-tingling and tear provoking, just the way a true-love marriage should be.

And there she was – the most radiant beautiful bride!

  

Suzanne’s Mom walked her down the aisle because unfortunately, her Dad had passed away. How Terry would have loved to see Suzanne find such happiness, and to have the ceremony there in his favorite church!

One giggling moment was when Michael tried to put the wedding ring on the bride’s right hand!  That makes him “ours” for sure and something to share laughter about in later years.

No, I did not get to see the big royal wedding at Windsor, but this more than special occasion was a deeply meaningful, exceedingly joyful, Almost Royal Wedding that may have been was even better!

 

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Life’s a Compromise

Life is a compromise.

Like marriage.

Especially marriage.

I may be an expert on that.

• What should we have for dinner when I love cheese and my husband hates it?

Compromise:  I do not cook with cheese, except for myself or if I am craving Mac n’ Cheese, we eat out.

• How warm or cool shall we set the thermostat for our temperature comfort levels?

Compromise:  It’s always a little too warm for me in here, but a little too cool for him.

• To avoid being deemed a “back seat driver”, how quiet should I be as a passenger in the car when I know he’s about to make a wrong turn?

Compromise:  I make little noises and white knuckle the hand grip.  I think he sees all that with his great peripheral vision.  If none of that works, I gasp out loud.

•  What movie should we watch when he loves spy thrillers and I love romantic drama?

Compromise:  We have separate viewing rooms and meet between films.

Daily Prompt: Compromise

 

 

 

 

 

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