The Love of My Life

One of the great loves of my life has died. It's not my husband or child or an old boyfriend or similar...it's my beautiful, adored cat, Maggie.

It may sound funny to describe a cat in such grandiose terms but, in many ways, she was.  I loved her unconditionally.  I forgave everything:  her almost daily habit of serial killing small animals; her constant hair shed; her vomiting the remnants of the small animals she'd devour; her staying out all night in summer causing my husband, sons and me no end of worry.  Maggie did not love me best.  Oh no.  She adored my husband and sons. She liked menfolk.  My eldest son was her early favorite.  They had a very companionable relationship til he left for college. She then became enamored of my husband whose exceedingly warm body was well suited to her needs.  She would practically sleep on top of him even though he did not encourage her.  I, on the other hand, wanted her next to me always but I was always her last resort.

Maggie was a dainty, tiny cat.  She looked like a kitten all her life, never weighing over 6 lbs.  She had perfect confirmation and markings.  The boys and my husband brought her home in 1999 after a visit to a local animal shelter where they also brought home a female dog named Zoe.  Maggie was about 18 mos old at the time though she looked like a kitten.  She had tremendous confidence and a sense of herself which attracted the menfolk immediately.

Early on, we decided not to limit her environment to the indoors. Our property abutted a national forest. We had regular visits from red fox, black bear, moose, wild turkey, the occasional bobcat and weasel. It was a calculated risk.   Maggie had energy, curiosity, aggressiveness and exceptional hunting ability.  For ten years, we waited for the other shoe to drop.

She had two close calls that we know of.  Early on, while driving down the driveway to school, my son and I saw Maggie, back arched and ready to fight two red foxes.  They had her cornered at the junction of our driveway & our neighbors' easement driveway.  Zoe, our dog, Maggie's companion from the animal shelter, jumped out the car window and gave chase to the foxes who were loath to leave the tiny morsel.  My son jumped out to scoop her up and Maggie was saved.

The  second close call was Labor Day 2009.  I found her curled up in a ball on the porch, bleeding, with teethmarks, lacerations and damage all over her body.  We rushed her to the vet and waited anxiously overnight  for the results.  $800 later, she was thriving with numerous stitchings and salve.  The doc ordered bed rest.We kept close watch for the next week and she rallied beautifully.  I breathed a sigh of relief and

thanked God for saving my baby.

Then, on December 10th, three weeks after moving out of the family home we shared and the only home she'd known, my son awoke to find her staggering and listless on the floor of his room after she'd fallen off his bed.  He alerted us to her distress and we observed her for a few moments before finding an emergency vet hospital  open.  It was 8AM.  She couldn't walk right.  She wouldn't look at us.  She didn't want to be touched.  She was dying before our eyes.  Again, we rushed her to the vet.  They xrayed her, they hydrated her, they took blood samples.  She had a seizure and they sedated her to quell the tremors.  They told us they'd monitor her progress.  When we walked out the door of the vet hospital, I began to sob.  I almost collapsed in the parking lot and my husband and son helped me to the car. 

We drove around a while.  I couldn't stop crying.  I didn't go to work.  We returned to the house we now share with my MIL.  My son was quiet and scared.  At 12 noon my cell phone rang.  I answered.  It was the doctor.  Maggie hadn't made it.  The vet did not know why.  I speculated poison.  The vet speculated a "toxin" or a brain tumor that might have grown too large and suddenly killed her.  The vets don't screen for toxins so we'll never know.  An autopsy was out of the question.

I took the news calmly.  I had known when I said "good bye" to her at the vets and walked out that door full of more grief than I'd felt in years.  But my husband and son were stunned.  My son bent over double, holding his head, crying as though his heart would break.  My husband just couldn't believe it.  Our Maggie was gone.  We'd watched tv in bed the night before and she'd curled & cooed & purred to us as she accepted our pets, strokes and love.   She'd done her "roly polys" which I called her rolling about on her back.  She was fine.

The worst part of any death is the hole it leaves in your heart; the void that will never be filled.  We move on, we adapt and we finally accept.  But we never forget and we never quite let go.

Turn Turn Turn

No New Year's resolutions for me.  This past year has been full of change and I'm content to let things be for a while.

My wish is for a peaceful 2010 with the ending of the war in Iran and hopefully, no more troops to Afghanistan.  I hope the Houses of Congress can work together instead of in their usual partisan manner.  I hope more businesses, goverments and individuals recognize and work to slow global warming.

I hope my family and friends stay healthy and happy and I wish the same for you and yours.






New Year's Eve 1990 with one of
my best friends, who passed away
in 2004.

Happy Happy New Year and Winter Holidays!

Tis the Season by Laura Trevey

Wishing you and your families a truly great holiday week with great weather, great food, close friends and family, health and good cheer.  Hoping the new year brings much happiness.

Truly An Empty Nest Part III Transitions

Tree  Meeting by Cole Scott

Our new life begins in the home of my mother in law.  She's 83 years old, still recovering from the death, last year, of her ex husband and housemate of sixty years.  She is a tippler who self medicates.  She doesn't handle change well.  Of course, who at 83 handles change "well"?  The reasons for our moving in with her were many:  she has a rambling old farm house with an upstairs living space, she's not in good health, the house needs upkeep and it seems to make financial sense for all concerned.  She can use the extra money and we can save some money.  I am convinced that multi-generational living arrangements are making a comeback.  There are many reasons, not least of which is the current recession; but there is also a real need for care and protection of aging parents.  This is an idea we kicked around for several years.  When we finally put our house on the market and it sold in one day and we had five weeks to move, well, it became an immediate realty.

Adjusting to our new living arrangement is the hardest part.  My MIL is set in her ways and very stubborn.  While she embraces the idea of our living with her, she resents the invasion of her space.  We find ourselves walking on tiptoe around her, never quite sure of her mood for the day.  My father was the same way.  He did not like any deviation from his routine and could get cranky at the drop of a hat.  The cliches of old people are all true:  they have to eat early, they drive like crap, they keep the heat turned up to unbearable levels and they don't like change.  Eating, sleeping and regularity are their primary concern, not necessarily in that order.  My husband and I wonder if we'll be like that when we're their age.  OMG, I hope not. 

My younger son is living with us for the time being.  He has his own room, three squares and a new job.  He's content for now although he's making plans to move out in six months.  He patiently deals with his grandmother's moodiness.  His brother is home for Christmas and, together, they make her laugh and keep her entertained.  Their energy and joy are infectious. 

As for my husband and I, we're giving this a three month test.  We'd like it to work because she can't really stay in the house alone much longer.  It's not practical nor safe.  But, everyone has to make it work.  So, fingers crossed. 

Truly An Empty Nest Part II Packing To Go

Our move was fast paced and intense.  We had the bright idea of doing it ourselves.  After all, we'd decided to dispose of fifty percent of our belongings:  paperwork, books, furniture, clothing, etc. to expedite the process.  We figured it would be a snap.  Boy, were we wrong!  Fifty percent of eleven years in the same place is a whole lotta crap!  The house was 3200 sq ft with a 3/4 attic and a garage which served as our basement because it was full of stuff.  We parked our cars outside.  No room.  About once a year, my husband would clear out space in the garage and go to the dump.  But we always filled it up again.

Library reading nook

So here we are, calling auctioneers to review the antiques.  It took 3 tries to find someone to take them on consignment which tells you the value of our antiques...not much.  We called Habitat for Humanity but they were on overload from other folks giving them things.  We boxed clothes for various churches and thrift stores and gave almost new furniture to friends.  And then there were the old things nobody wanted, the 20 year old couches and upholstered chairs beaten down by kids and shredded by the cat.  They really weren't even good enough for my younger sons' college friends badly in need of furniture.

Ahhh, the dump, our refuge and saviour.  Hated taking anything there but it was the place of last resort.  The dump store took our small appliances and the dump took twenty years of income tax ppwk and memorabilia. They took our books as well.  Second hand book stores want books with covers or they say they won't sell.  The school library was filled to overflowing.  I mean, what does it say when nobody even wants a full set of encyclopedia?

Living Room with furniture & books to go!

The gleaming kitchen

And the move itself?  Back breaking work for my husband and younger son.  They worked long hours.  It took three solid weeks.  We were still packing two days before closing but we got it done.  The morning we closed, my husband and I drove to the house to gaze one last time at the home we created.  It had been thoroughly cleaned, carpets shampooed, kitchen sparkling and the sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows in our living room.  We held one another and thanked God for the happiness we shared in this incredible place with our children and pets and friends.

 

View from the Living Room

And off we went, down the hill, away from our old life, headed for the new one.

For other photos of our home, see below and/or go here.

Truly An Empty Nest Part 1 Life Changes

 ORIGINALLY WRITTEN 11/29/09:

Hand built stone wall holding up our flagstone terrace

My family and I are in the final stages of moving from the house in which we raised our children to the large rambling home of my mother in law.  As you can imagine, it is a move fraught with emotion.

Boy's room

We had been talking of selling our home for a number of years, back at the top of the market in 2005.  We had bought a split level home on top of a mountain in 1998, moving in Thanksgiving weekend.  It had spectacular views, alot of potential, and not much else.   The boys were 11 and 10 and we'd lived in New Hampshire a year.  The house had promise and we made an acceptable offer.  We moved in Thanksgiving weekend.  We began renovations the following January.  We never looked back.

Master Bath created  circa 1999

As houses go, it was spacious, with large rooms and a fairly open floor plan.  It was built on a slab, something Californians understand but New Englanders do not.  The bank had a heck of a time finding comps for the appraisal.  We were getting a good deal and we believed we'd make money on it.  The views were too good, we had closet space galore and three bathrooms, soon to be four.   Our seller, the original owner, had installed an odd assortment of fixtures, cabinetry and bathroom appliances from various and sundry projects on which he'd worked.  The bathrooms had flesh toned fixtures,  the cabinetry was left over from a condo project on which he had additional pieces.  His electric work was definitely not up to code but the house was sound and he was a good guy who installed a new heating system and replaced the roof before we moved in. The negatives were an unfinished downstairs, mostly exposed concrete slab, a dingy, poorly designed kitchen, and the dirt road on which we lived..    The positives were the large rooms, the front porch we would turn into our living room, the 270 degree views and the national forest abutting our property.  We had privacy and a safe yard for the dogs.

Boys' Bathroom                                                                                                 Guest Bathroom

My husband and I are no strangers to moving.  This would be our eighth move.  It would be our sixth purchased home.  But this time was different.  This time I did not want to go.  This time, I felt my heart breaking.

Winter at our home

Theme Thursday Telephone

This is a reprise of a post originally published earlier this year, 3/28/09. 


I posted a worthwhile 4 minute segment from Conan O'Brien's recent show with the comedian, Louis CK, on my other blog Women of a Certain Age. It's his take on the amazing technological advances for which we should be thankful and the silly sense of entitlement people have about them. One of the first things he discusses is telephones vs cells. He describes what it was like when you had to use a rotary phone and your friend had zeros in the number; the all the way around the dial rotary movement. It got me to thinking about my telephone numbers growing up.

My parents' home phone was Diamond 04266. You dialed DI 04266. We lived in the San Fernando Valley, an LA suburb. Ma Bell, known as Bell Telephone, was the provider. Western Electric was the manufacturer. If your phone broke or didn't work, Bell came out and fixed it for free! FOR FREE!!!! Their only rival was General Telephone. They were always the underdog, the phone company that sucked. They had a reputation for unreliability. You did not want to be on the General Telephone side of the Valley.

Over the twenty-two years my folks lived in our home, their phone number evolved only slightly. At some point, the phone company dropped the alphabetical letters, going numerical.  Ours became 340-4266 in the 213 area code. This is now the 818 area code. When I was 14, my parents bought me a Princess phone. They simply wanted the use of their home phone back. I was the envy of my friends. I had my own number, 340-4968. So, we had zeros in our numbers. And those zeros are what made the synapses in my brain write this post.

Do you remember your home phone number growing up? Or any of your old numbers? We had so few to remember back then. Now, we just store them and hit the receiver's name. But, it was kinda cool to have those old numbers and big blocky rotary phones. Our kitchen phone was dark red. My parents' bedroom phone was avocado green. My Princess phone was white. Was I a princess? Yeah. For a couple of years, I was.


I was Briar Rose, aka Sleeping Beauty, remember?

Veteran's Day Salute

 Old Glory by Cole Scott

As the daughter of a WWII  USAF Lt. Col and the cousin of a USAF Master Sgt. and the mother of a son with friends in Special Ops and the US Coast Guard, as a person who is opposed to the wars in which we are presently engaged but who is supportive of all those who fight for our country, I salute the men and women, past and present, of the United States Armed Forces.

Mad Men Season Finale

Cast of "Mad Men"

I am a "Mad Men" devotee.  I watch it every week, without fail;  have since the beginning.  If I can't watch it, I record and watch it later.  Sometimes I'll even watch the new show and it's encore (back-to-back) to better understand the ins and outs of the characters.  There are many layers in these shows;  if I'm concentrating too much on one plot line, I may become confused by another.  I haven't had this much fun since "West Wing" my all time favorite series television.

I was initially drawn to "Mad Men" for several reasons:

1. I have been in advertising for 30+ years.
2. My father wore a fedora relentlessly. He was in advertising in Chicago, Canada & LA.
   
3. Takes place in the Sixties, my childhood.

From the get go, I was pretty much hooked.  I had problems with the one-dimensional aspects of many of the characters and the stiff unyielding, pathological behaviour of Don Draper and his icy wife Betty.

Betty and Don Draper
 

But over the past few seasons, the writers have sought to flesh out the characters, explain some of their behaviours and make them more human, more likable and identifiable.

Last night's season finale tied up a number of loose ends while moving forward with new plots, new options and a wonderful promise for the next season.  For a well-written review, go here.

Joan Holloway

I am super happy to see Joan Holloway back.  She's way too smart for her husband and the rest of the "boys" in the agency.  It will be interesting to see where they take her.   She's been under-utilized this season and she was always too good to be Roger Sterling's plaything.  She's a dramatic foil to Betty Draper's picture perfect but deeply unhappy suburbanite and Peggy Olson's passive aggressive not-quite-but- almost-feminist.

Last night's show was one surprise after another, the biggest (in my opinion) being the agency principals risking their way out of a planned scenario orchestrated by their British owners who've surrepetitiously sold the agency to one of Madison Avenue's most fabled firms, McCann Ericson.  I wonder what the folk at McCann think of that angle?

Bertram Cooper and Roger Sterling

One of my favorite aspects to the show are the costumes and set decor. The shows' creator, Matthew Weiner, is reported perfectionist when it comes to details.  For those of us who grew up in the Fifties and Sixties, it's a true blast from the past.  The costumes are beautiful too.  I love to see the fitted bodices over flowing skirts of billowing fabric, the sheaths, the gloves, the hats.

Betty Draper 

 
I just wish the show were on air for a longer season. I've no idea why the producers keep it so short.  I
thought it began as a mid season replacement for something else (can't remember what) but now, it's so wildly popular, one wonders at the limited amount of production.  Perhaps that is all about wanting what we cannot have?  Kinda like in the show...

all photos by Frank Ockenfels 3 from amctv.com

Theme Thursday Castle

I have decided to channel my inner Cinderella, Briar Rose and Snow White to reflect on the theme, castle.

As do most young girls, I lived in a fantasy world of my own creation.  Those were the days before home movie rentals, computers, cell phones, etc. and my world derived from the books I read and the movies I went to see.  As such, I was influenced mightily by Disney films, identifying primarily with the put-upon princesses hidden away from the public for reasons that vary according to each story.

My favorite princess will always be Briar Rose, of "Sleeping Beauty" fame.  I loved her beuatiful long hair, her animal friends, her cozy thatched cottage in the woods, her fairy godmothers and her Handsome Prince.  I had a little cooking stove in my room.  It was electric with a heated oven.  I would dress in an apron, take a wicker basket and go out to the front yard where Mother's fifty red rose bushes lined our circular drive to collect rose petals, pretending they were berries.  I'd bring them in the house, dry them in the oven and serve them to my dolls...I mean, godmothers.  I did this over and over, all the while playing the movie soundtrack on my tiny 33 1/3 LP portable, powder blue record player.  I had a "Sleeping Beauty" board with stick on characters I'd move from one room of the castle to another.  The board itself was a beautiful reproduction lifted from the castle interiors by the Disney artists.  It was fantasy itself because you used the little stick on pieces to create your own story.  I loved communing with the animals in the forest.  I was often in the forest (of my mind as I lived in the suburbs) talking to the birds, squirrels, racoons and so forth.  I could do this with our chickens and our dog.  We had five hens and a rooster and one doggie.  It was sweet!

As for the castle, again, all in my mind.  My greatest concern was the chamber where I'd lie until "love's first kiss" rescued me from a deathless sleep.  It was all about draping...the chamber draping, that is.  Sleeping Beauty and Snow White lay still on a raised bed, the folds of their gowns trailing over the sides and down the bedside, beautifully draped.  When the prince would kiss them, their eyes would flutter and they'd awaken to the most handsome man ever, the love of their life, and off they'd go to live "happily ever after" in a castle.

That was my fantasy too!  I'd better remind my husband.  He still has time to make this up to me.  LOL!!!

Happy TT.