I didn't like eating when I was a kid. My folks had to coax me with favorite foods, and a regular winner was honey. A small spoonful, poured over toast or a pancake. Or honey and peanut butter.
I still dig its golden goodness and got hooked on Starbucks' honey lattes when I was in Florida last month. Coffee + honey = who knew? Yum. Total comfort food for a former honey kid.
Now if only I could re-embrace my dislike of food in general... heh.
Imagine your favorite little leprechaun - even if he was almost 5'10" - a part of your entire life, then facing your first St. Patrick's Day without him. Blah.
The Guinness flowed, green was worn, and long-faded brogues suddenly returned. (As always, I skipped the corned beef and cabbage.) But there was no lucky Irishman to treat my mom to a night out, tell stupid Irish jokes or just... be him.
Things to avoid next year: Danny Boy, parades, cry-prone drunks.
The most rambunctious, hungry, and angry squirrel known to mankind moved into my attic a couple of weeks ago. Not surprisingly, inviting an exterminator into the mix amplified my squirrel’s anger issues.
Truth be known, this is a friendly trapper who works to avoid killing any wildlife. But apparently the company is so friendly my squirrel thumbed her nose at them.
I say “she” because Randy the Exterminator said so. On his return visit this morning, he said “she is so hungry now she won’t be able to resist the treat I offer her today.” Sounds sort of ominous, but it’s just peanut butter. And a spring-loaded box, so Randy the Exterminator could move her out of my house.
Photo (c) Jules & photoshoppix.com
Mission accomplished. The squirrel, which was supposed to be gone on Friday – before they patched the hole she’d made to come in – is now gone.
Conan and I will not miss her creepy footsteps on the ceiling. The way he chased her around, running from room to room and staring up at the ceiling was adorable. The hole she was making in the office ceiling? Stressful. And our other visitor, a human, hasn’t slept well for days worrying about squirrel bites and a house full of rabid people and pets.
Sounds like interesting fodder for Pet Cemetery 3 – The Family Plot.
The view from my room in Naples, FL. Nice place to spend a couple of days for business or pleasure, right?
This was my first trip back to Florida since Dad died and I was surprised by unexpected emotions. The arrival event was held on the beach and that's where it hit me - hard. Very surreal to be surrounded by colleagues and feeling something so personal at the same time.
Overall the emotions infringed on my ability to network and relax like I normally would have, but the trip managed to be informative and rewarding despite all that.
I was planning to visit Florida that weekend anyway, a pre-India trip, but I think the circumstances and being "alone" at the water - Dad's favorite place was the beach - helped me deal with some emotions I may have put off for a while... and I recognized my ability to still enjoy things Dad loved.
Here I am, the open book again. I'm telling you - the hotel had a hell of a view!
I rarely get too personal on my blog but I've officially become an open book. I've been doing verbal overshares all weekend.
Here's a link to my Dad's obit and the text. Even in my grief I must fix the typos. Ugh. But the printed paper did include a nice flag graphic which was so Dad. Very cool.
Ocala Star Banner - Des Austin
Desmond G. Austin, 67, beloved husband and father, passed away at home November 28, 2007 of natural causes. Desmond was a former Marion County Republican chairman, a retired paper industry executive, and U.S. Army veteran. He was a lifelong volunteer for educational causes.
Born in Dublin, Ireland, Desmond is survived by his wife, Mary Eleanor; daughter Lucy Suzanne Austin of Ashburn, VA; brothers William and Joseph, both of New Jersey; and many beloved nieces and nephews. Desmond was predeceased by both parents, a sister Maureen, and brothers Patrick and Peter.
It's like the world's shortest hightlight reel: Dad in 10 seconds.
If you're wondering, Dad had not been ill. He was home here in Ocala readying their house for the holidays and planning to be a volunteer tutor in the new year. He has been very active and happy and seemingly all was well. We are grateful he passed peacefully in his sleep.
The suddenness is shocking and we had no time to plan for the grief. And while we have a very large extended family and networks of friends, it really comes down to just mom and me.
In fact, I despise it.
The pattern of my posts this week is suddenly and painfully eerie.
Dad's a veteran (Army) but when I was wee he'd tell me mail delivery was shut down to celebrate his birthday. Cute.
Today, according to the expert typists at DC's local Channel 8 News, is Veterand's Day. Nice.
Today marks the first anniversary of Rose's death. We were on vacation in Maine when she passed and my mom insisted we stay there, to the point of not even calling right away. She’d been taking care of her sister for almost two years by that point, and we were as prepared as possible, including a memorial service.
Now mom's dealing with her own mother's failing health.
Mortality can be a real bummer.
My hometown movie theater has a really creative and funny staff.
The alternatives to that statement are clear here:
I dug how this buzzed around my personal email network Wednesday after its appearance in the local paper.
When we were little kids my best girlfriend and I would do the Hokey Pokey with our Holly Hobbie dolls all-the-time.
Walking through the parking garage at work I saw a bumper sticker I adore:
What if the Hokey Pokey IS what it's all about?
Indeed.
Easter was a nice excuse for family to get together this weekend.
The holiday also provided a great excuse to torture poor Conan. Love the lip curl.
Last weekend was chock-full of familial estrogen as a few of us visited New Jersey for my grandmother's (early) birthday celebration.
Nana is nearing 100 years old but looks and acts years younger. She volunteers, loves to shop and is a bit of a card shark. She stopped driving her car a couple of years ago to help make the roads safer for the rest of us. Also because the state told her she had to.
Now she zips around her retirement community on a motor scooter.
Nana enjoys her age and refers to herself as "ninetysomething." It makes my dread for the looming "fourtysomething" seem pretty ridiculous.
One sad note is that her short-term memory is slipping. There were several conversations that wound up on a loop because she couldn't track all of the info. C' est la vie. Especially at her age.
A close friend just learned last week that she will likely never be able to conceive. They've been through so much. There have been some issues over the years but she took all the right steps and has remained hopeful with the support of her doctor. She and her husband are heartbroken. Oh, they know the alternatives and will take advantage when they're ready, but they're just so sad right now. There are a lot of different emotions. It's hard to know what to say so I'm not trying too hard to say the "right thing" because I don't really know what that is.
Watched Red Eye on demand last night and found it surprisingly re-watchable. I think it scored pretty well at the box office last year. I first saw it in Orlando with Meg when I was down for a long weekend.
Speaking of... once in a while I'm struck by a sudden case of homesickness that can be overwhelming. It happened today when my mother (of all people) called me at the office. Talking to Scott tonight didn't help because we got into our semi-regular career vs. the future thing. Oh well, at least making me angry cured my homesickness. heh.
This has been a week of great personal loss. A wonderfully dear former colleague and an aunt with whom, in my youth, I was extremely close.
My mother's sister Rose had been ill since a childhood bout of rheumatic fever. She was in her early teens at the time and was sickly thereafter. Yet while Rose dealt with heart issues for the rest of her life, she was strong-willed and as tough as nails. Saddled with emotional scars stemming from her medical issues, she was not always what you'd classify as "happy," yet in her last few years she was. Or as close as she could be.
At 70, four years after the sudden death of her husband, she reinvented her life hundreds of miles from what had been home for fourty years. In Pennslyvania Rose found new friends, new activities and an independent life. Not that life with John was bad, they loved each other, but they lived a life of routine and quiet existence.
My aunt deteriorated over the past few months due to issues related to progressive heart failure. In the end, we were prepared for Rose's loss as best we could be, but a nagging emptiness surrounds us now. I feel a great deal of loss for my mother and her niece, Susan, who have been caring directly for Rose. Rose's passing left a void that will be hard to fill. Rose had given my mother a renewed sense of family and purpose that makes the loss especially troubling for her.
Rose suffered in her last couple of weeks and we know that her passing was a blessing, but our hearts ache nonetheless. Rose and I had grown apart sometime in my late teens, but our bond never truly broke. I will miss her.
Tags: Rose Mee