Hey! Guess what? I get to go, get to go, get to go!!

We're off to the SCPA's Adopt-A-Thon at Grossmont Center!
Hours are 12:00 to 5:00 - Of course we won't be there the whole time, but if you see me come say hi, and I'll give you a certificate that's good for a free FIDO Meal!

go,go,go,go.......

Hello, I"m Nilla, and you've already met Bean. As I'm sure you're starting to realize,
Bean can be rather.... shall we say, 'enthusiastic.'

Since they say a picture is worth a thousand words, This video should be worth a million, thus I can save my energy for something really important, like a nap.

Nilla & Bean: Lazy Play

UP WITH TAILS!

I know I'm not a really deep thinker, and I'm usually pretty laid back, but I get pretty riled up when I see one of my brothers (or sisters- you know what I mean) who has had their tail removed. Yikes, what in the world could they  have done to deserve such a thing? I mean, yeah, maybe it made sense when (as a breed) we were primarily used as hunting dogs, traipsing through  the english countryside searching for prey, but really? Who do you think your kidding? These days most spaniels don't do much more than lay on the sofa. Occasionally we step outside just to make sure it's still there, but getting my tail caught on a thistle bush in the heat of the hunt is really not likely to happen in suburban Southern California.

So I've come up with a tradeoff that I think is fair. Since personally, I don't care for 'people ears', they're stubby, not enough fur on 'em, and honestly they serve litte practical purpose besides holding up your sunglasses, so, if people are going to continue to cut off spaniel tails (which we use for a multitude of really important things- like telling you we really, really want a treat) I think we should start cutting off people's ears. Seems like a fair trade to me.

From this point forward I will consider myself the self appointed president of the Cocker Spaniel's "Up with Tails Organization" JOIN ME in making a difference

One of my favorite comedy sketches of all time is 'Stuff' by George Carlin.I mention it because mom and I (well, mostly mom) have spent the last few weeks getting my Aunt ready to relocate to a new Seniors Community. Do you know how much stuff can be accumulated in 87 years? ALOT!!!! We've been puzzling and puzzling over it... How in the world does one woman accumulate so much stuff. Well, we're finally on to her, SHE'S GOT DEAD PEOPLES STUFF! That's right, beware my friends. Your nice, neat, tidy, contemporary abode will someday be OVERRUN with doilies, old Tupperware and antler candlesticks if you aren't extremely careful. Let me tell you, Stuff is sneaky. You may be thinking, "Oh, that can't happen to me, I hardly have any Stuff that isn't mine."  Think harder. In the back of the closet, great grandpas canteen from World War II, or great grandmas garter from her wedding day in the bottom of your jewelery box are waiting, preparing the way for the other Stuff. Then, when you least expect it, WHAMO! An envelope from a college friend filled with pictures of people you don't remember wearing bunny ears and drinking from a keg of beer. Of course you can't throw them away! You'll just slide them in the closet next to the canteen. On a trip back home, mom innocently says "I've been doing some spring cleaning and I ran across grandmas wedding earrings; the pearls. I know they're not real, but they have such sentimental value, I want you to have them." AHHHHH!!! You're doomed. The Stuff has breached the barrier. Sooner or later, those people will start to die, and then that Stuff is there for good. "I can't throw away this chipped 'Night of the Living Dead' pencil holder. It was Bob's favorite, and since Bob passed away in that freak trapeze accident, I just can't bear to part with it." Please, I beg of you, let it go, or better yet, don't take it in the first place, or someday it might end up on your grand daughters mantle. Anybody need some antler candlesticks?

Michelle's Meanderings: Kindness 01/05/11

I don't have a single nurturing bone in my body. I'm not generally kind, considerate or caring. When you want compassion, I am not the one to turn to.

As an example, when the girls were little and got sick, they'd sneak out the front door in their footie pajamas, dragging their blankies from neighbor to neighbor begging anyone that would open up to please, please care for them until they felt better. (Don't worry, I usually caught the little whiners by the third house or so.)

So, given my nature, you can understand my astonishment when the caring and thoughtfulness of others is directed at me.
Right before Christmas, one of our Regulars did the most astounding thing... They brought me, (ME!) homemade cookies. And it's not like they just happened to be here eating; they drove over just to drop them off. Oh my gosh! That is so sweet and kind. How in the world does someone even THINK to go out their way to bring some 'server' a plate of Christmas cheer?
 
Well, wait for it, there's even more to be amazed about. The day before, I watched another couple of Regulars deliver a christmas gift to some other Regulars that they had become chummy with over the course of quite a few Sundays. The receiving Regulars were blown away by the thoughtfulness, and when I related these two stories to Jeff, he didn't even seem surprised! He was like 'Yea, people do that kind of thing, it's really thoughtful'.

I just shook my head in befuddled amazement. I said, 'That's like me taking a plate of cookies to Nancy' (our favorite server at our local greasy spoon) which would simply NEVER occur to me.

The next morning when we sat down for breakfast at 'Troys', Nancy handed me a plate of homemade baked goods. Jeff laughed for two straight days.

I want to thank you all for your kindness and your thoughtfulness. No matter who was the beneficiary of your holiday largess, please know that people notice whether they mention it or not, and it makes the world a much brighter place to be.

Happy New Year, and keep being good to one another- it makes us all smile!

Michelle's Meanderings: Thriving 12/07/10

When Alyssa was 2 weeks old, I first heard the phrase 'Failure to Thrive'.
She'd only been out of NICU for a few days, and when I took her in for a check-up, she'd lost 12oz. Of course losing a bit of weight for a newborn is not unheard of, but when she started out at only 4lbs, the margin for 'acceptable' was drastically reduced. It turns out, that in Pediatrics, 'Failure to Thrive' is a symptom of an underlying issue that must be solved to reverse the failure. Eventually, it was all figured out, and if you've seen her recently, there's no doubt that she's now 'thriving'.

The phrase reappeared in our lives on October 21st. Our family has been on the non-stop thrill ride of Alzheimer Disease for the last two years. We thought (oh silly us) that we'd finally settled our Noni into a long term care situation where she was doing well. At her regular monthly check-up we learned she'd lost 12lbs in 2 weeks. The diagnosis was 'Failure to Thrive'. In geriatric patients, the term is a diagnosis, not a symptom.

Now, lest you think I've abandoned you to a world of depression and sorrow, Know this: Every dark moment has a polar opposite, and there is nothing like family to yank you back into the everyday world of the living. Siblings, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Nephews, Nieces, and Friends all with one connecting thread...
(not the departed, that's too easy) each and every one of us knows for a fact that all the others leave their coffee cups in the sink!

That's right, 25 close relatives in one house leads to just one thing, BEDLAM, and there is simply nothing as comforting on the face of the planet as banging on the bathroom door and yelling 'You've been in there forever, It's my turn!'

You see, life goes on. We have to eat, fight, cry, hug each other, empty the trash cans, and make the coffee.
Grab hold of your family and friends this holiday season.

Do more than just tell them that you love them, prove it.

Bang on the bathroom door and continue to thrive.

We want to thank all of you for your sympathy and support.

From our family to yours, Happy Holidays
Michelle, Jeff, Jennifer, Dave, Kylie and Alyssa

MICHELLE'S MEANDERINGS 09-2010
 Old Dogs and New Tricks

I don't know when exactly it happened. I didn't hear a thump or anything, but somehow, with neither my knowledge or permission, I've become an old dog.
(Quit snickering!)

I found out my new status while attempting to put together this installment of the Newsletter. Sometime over the past few weeks, while I was oh so busy attempting to help run our business and care for my crazy relatives...

THEY UPGRADED THE EMAIL PROGRAM!!! AHHHHHHHH!!

Crimony I say! I had just finally figured out how to work the old one, and now they do this!
(Sure, YOU don't think it's a conspiracy!)

So, I struggled, this is how it went:

• Read Instructions
• Cut / Copy.... Where did it go?
• Try again
• I'm hungry
• Insert Image / Create Hyperlink
• Where did it go?
• Glass of wine? Sure!
• Bang head on desk
• Give up; Live to fight another day!

So, here we are. I promise to learn my way around the upgrade by the next newsletter, but for now, you'll just have to forgive me.

Thanks for your understanding and I'll see you soon!

MICHELLE'S MEANDERINGS 07/29/10
 A Recipe for the Sandwich Generation

First the sandwich; ubiquitous white bread spread with copious amounts of peanut butter and grape jelly.
Place in a fold top (no ziplocks) plastic bag and insert into brown paper lunch bag BELOW a soda pop wrapped in aluminum foil. Add potato chips and a homemade chocolate chip cookie. Place the lunch sack into a little box with 30 other identical lunch bags and store in a school bus for a minimum of 3 hours, where it will reach temperatures normally found only in the core of a nuclear reactor.

Now, sit cross-legged in the grass. Pull out the soda pop, unwrap the foil and pull the tab.
Stop crying... the burn from the exploding liquid probably won't leave a scar.
Next, remove the partially opened bag of potato chip dust and dump it directly into your mouth.
Set the cookie pieces aside and watch the napkin blow away into the nearest environmentally sensitive marshland. Take out the sandwich (an oddly shaped mass, squishy, warm and purple, liberally coated with potato chip dust and broken pieces of cookie) and scarf it down like you haven't eaten for a month.

It's the first sandwich you've ever eaten that has been stored in your long term memory... it's perfect.

I've found this recipe has appeared in many different guises throughout my life.

As a memorable lunch for my school-age children's first field trip.
As a memory for my grandmother as we waited for the Nursing Home paperwork to be processed.
One of her final field trips.

As the purple shadows under my eyes and the squishy, warm, oddly shaped mass around my middle proves, I'm a member of the Sandwich Generation, both literally and figuratively (get it? 'figure'atively, hahaha, gotta laugh when you can!)
 
Finally, just one more thing about sandwiches...

Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

MICHELLE'S MEANDERINGS: 06/18/10
 The Parental Curse of Doom!

Sunday is Fathers Day, and my thoughts have turned to my idyllic childhood (Imagine Disney bluebirds chirping through a flowery meadow...) where I brought nothing but sunshine, light and endearing smiles to the grown-ups responsible for shepherding me to adulthood. (Now imagine the screech of a needle across a record...)

The Parental Curse of Doom. Part of our genetic code. Passed on in all languages, countries and cultures since the beginning of time. For those of you who have not yet experienced it personally...

A parent, arm outstretched and shaking with frustration and anger. The tip of the index finger, mere inches from the nose of the offending party. The curse exploding into the face of the recalcitrant youth without conscious thought from the parent that has been pushed to the absolute end of their rope..

"Some day... young lady/young man...
May you have a child that is just like you!

David never knew what hit him. He couldn't quite fathom what had happened to those Disney bluebirds. One minute, chirping, the next, flattened by the steamroller of a stepdaughter that he simply never imagined when he signed up for fathering duty. His mother, Norma Jean knew. She managed to look nothing but understanding while she soothed her confused son.

Ellie was desperately trying to stifle the giggle that was winging it's way down the phone reciever towards her son Jeff, who was lamenting the difficulty of raising a headstrong teen, whose nose was in trouble more often than not.

 A chip off  the old block. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Two peas in a pod. Cut from the same cloth.

I'm always hearing that Dave and I are so much alike. When people discover that David isn't my biological father, they scratch their heads. Not me.

W.D.(Dave's Dad) and Norma Jean pointed their fingers and said the sacred words...VOILA! Michelle.

Arnie and Ellie, Jennifer and Dave, fingers pointed at both Jeff and I and then... VOILA! Have you met Alyssa?
My spitting image.

As we celebrate the fathers in our lives this year, I'm going to try my best to remind our dads (biological or not) that no matter how bad things may seem, no matter how frustrating and thankless the fatherhood job can be...

The Parental Curse of Doom, is actually a compliment.

HAPPY FATHERS DAY!

MICHELLE'S MEANDERINGS: 05/06/10
 Mothering

Well Sunday is yet another 'Hallmark Holiday' and SURPRISE, I've got a few thoughts to share.

Our dear friend and Regular Big Wave Dave used to call me every Mothers Day (nope, I'm not his mother) to wish me a happy day. I asked him why, and he said he tries to call all the 'mothers' in his group of friends because he admired the hard work they did. Dave's call always made me smile, but it also reminded me that you don't get recognized by just BEING a mother, you are remembered for the ACTIONS of being a mother, or in other words, mothering.

I take issue with Hallmark, only because by focusing on women with children, it's created an exclusionary day, when I really feel we all deserve a day to celebrate those mothering behaviors that are exhibited by each of us.

Mothering, to me, is the caring and frequently thankless things that we do for others.
Caring for a sibling with dementia
Getting up at the crack of dawn to walk the dog - rain or shine.
Keeping a scared friend company in the hospital.
Lending money so payroll can be met.
Buying a beer when a hearts been broken.

Oh yeah, there's also all that diaper changing, hand holding, meal making, bail posting, house cleaning, shopping, hugging, worrying, crying, consoling and............ TOILET CLEANING!

All this and more has no defined gender, no pre-determined age or relationship requirements, just doing what's right, day in and day out. I think you all deserve a nice card and a fabulous dinner at Shades.

What do you think Hallmark?

HAPPY MOTHERING DAY!