Zed and Mousse

March 26, 2012 By

Zed with Mousse in the foreground, begging and Sam over to the side.

It’s been a lovely week.  The weather has been astounding with redbud and dogwood popping out overnight in the warmth and humidity that has more in common with early June than March.

My brother, Zed, is visiting from Vermont.  It’s been two years since I’ve seen him and five years since he’s been here in Virginia.  He came accompanied by Mousse, his soul mate and loyal companion. A dachshund, right on the line between a mini and a standard size, Mousse’s silky long hair is the color of rich dark chocolate. His nose, paws, and rear end look as though they’ve been dipped in a bit of caramel. He is well-behaved and a total delight. Sam loves him and they’re happy together, racing around the house at top speed. After a few minutes they collapse, smiling, happy, and panting with long tongues hanging out. Mousse is very respectful of my cats, backing off and giving them lots of space as they try to figure out exactly what he is … a strange kind of cat or just another small, silly dog.  Pepper glares at him but every now and then seems to want to rub up against him and welcome him into the pack.  She thinks she is a small dog rather than a cat.      

Mousse is unlike most dachshunds in that he is a Service Dog and he has made a huge difference in my brother’s life. He loves everyone and is the star of the show wherever he goes, because of his obvious attunement with all of the humans he meets. In a group of people sitting in a circle conversing, he hops from lap to lap checking out each individual’s mood, bringing heartfelt smiles from those who might be stressed from life’s deepest woes. 

Zed struggles with ADD and like myself, has often had difficulty with severe anxiety. Mousse brings stability to Zed’s life, reminding him to breathe and filling the sometimes deep, dark shadows that follow him with love and comfort. With Mousse there is no high blood pressure, only the sweet softness of his kisses and the unconditional love that every one of us craves.  Mousse and Zed have been together for two or three years and there is a world of difference in how Zed sees the world since his Service Dog arrived in his life. He is happy, calm, and with his small pal by his side, Zed is better able to deal with what at times are difficult social situations. Introductions are so much easier with Mousse taking the spotlight. Not being able to find the right words to greet someone he’s never met before is less of an issue since the beginning of most conversations are always about the huge presence of that sweet, little dog.

Terri Conti, a friend of Zed’s spent one night with us as well.  A lovely, soft-spoken woman, Terri is a musical powerhouse.  Sitting outside one evening listening to a recording of her playing the accordion, I was swept away to Greece, and a small Taverna where Bill and I enjoyed frosty glasses of white wine and servings of freshly prepared calamari in a spicy tomato sauce, as the sun set over the Aegean Sea. Later, on our piano, Terri played part of the latest piece she is working on, George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. And then she got us singing show tunes, all of us off-key to be sure, but having the time of our lives. It was a totally delightful weekend.

Having my brother here has been very special for me.  We are the only ones left of our small clan and our time together this past week has been a time for reconnecting after years of being apart. We’ve been able to share memories about what it was like growing up with our parents and that helps to keep me inspired to continue writing my memoir. He heads back to Vermont tomorrow and I’ll miss him and Mousse terribly.  As I grow older it’s hard to have him so far away.

Got any treats?



Filed Under: Animals I Love, Childhood, family, Gratefulness, Memoir, Vermont Tagged With: , ,

Seeking Balance

March 17, 2012 By

My growing garden.

 I was feeling blocked, unable to unplug the movie I’d been screening in my head.  Writing a memoir is difficult work, especially since I’ve spent most of my time for the last month reliving parts of my life that were less than pleasant.  I needed a break from the past.

This week, the days were in the mid-seventies and eighties, sunny with a few clouds, but only a drop of much-needed rain. It was almost perfect gardening weather. I did a tad of pruning and pulled weeds. I bought four gorgeous hellebores in full bloom and this morning tucked them in the ground on what was once a bank of nothing but Ivy.

In Charlottesville, as in most regions of the state, there is more Ivy than any other kind of plant. It can easily overtake a stonewall and bring it crashing down. It can kill trees, shrubs and any plant that decides to take it on.  Last fall I hired a man to pull up all the Ivy on that bank and we built a small patio on top of the rise. This spring my project is to fill the empty garden space with shade loving plants. Hellebores that often bloom in late January, ferns, and hostas are the most likely candidates. But there are many others that will not be overlooked. Since doing my daily memoir writing was not happening anyway, I figured it was a good time to start.

The garden is a perfect place to come to terms with what’s bothering me. Among the plants and the promises of spring I can do some inner weeding.  When I spend time outside with plants, allowing my hands to dig in the soil, my mind and heart opens, awakening to earth messages and spirits sent at this time of year to heal the land and its creatures after a long, dark winter.

Here in Virginia, the winter has been a warm one. The two snowfalls we’ve had are the joke of the season. Now the land is alive with trees and shrubs that usually begin blooming in mid-April. Today we had our lawn mowed. It no longer looks like a typical hayfield in late July. I’m anxious to go off to the nurseries and find more plants for my garden.  Spring officially arrives early Tuesday morning and I’m ready to dance into the new season.

My hands and fingers are happy that I’ve dipped them in the warming soil. But now they again itch for the keyboard. My heart and mind are clear, ready to process the next part of my story. I will gently place the words on the blank screen that awaits them, and this time I will try to be continually mindful of the state of my emotions so that the wall that I ran into a few weeks ago doesn’t stop me from moving forward.

For me, balance is the key.  I am not like the tightrope walker who gracefully dances her way along the wire while balancing her umbrella on the tip of a finger.  I need stops along the way where I can take the time to recompose myself.  The garden is one of those places.

Hellebores planted today.

Filed Under: Gratefulness, Life, Matters of the Spirit, Memoir, Navigating Through Life, stories, The Garden, The Seasons, Writing Tagged With: ,

I’m Home Again!

February 7, 2012 By

This last week was one of the most awesome getaways I’ve ever had.  My dear friend Sharon and I spent the week at her oceanfront condo on Hutchinson Island in Florida.   It was heavenly.

We walked the beach daily collecting treasure … rocks, shells and whatever else of interest that washed up on the shore.  We watched pelicans, sanderlings, gulls and my favorite of all, magnificent Frigate Birds soaring above us.  On our first morning there, Portuguese Men-of-War, from tiny babies to adults,  carpeted the beach in their airy blue and pink regalia, threatening walkers with their toxic tendrills spread about them.  They disappeared the next day, and we only spotted one or two through the ensuing days.

My collection of hearts!!

There were no rules and regulations, except for the one below.  Being in Florida where Boomers and us older folks gather in winter, you’ve got to be careful. Little people are not the only ones who wear diapers :)!!

No Diapers!

We awoke when we felt like it and stayed up one night until one in the morning talking and puzzling over the state of the world. We ate when we were hungry enjoying fresh watermelon and berries, yummy salads … chicken, couscous with olives and feta, green leafy ones with artichoke hearts, avocado, and crunchy broccoli slaw.

Most of all we played and got to know each other better.  I found myself being more honest and open than I can ever remember.  Sharon can listen and catch things long before I can figure out what I’ve said. So it was also a huge learning time.

On Sunday, my last day, we went to a birthday party for two sets of twins who had just turned one.  Members of Sharon’s extended family, they were born to two loving women who live together and decided to have a family.  They both got pregnant and both bore twins, all born on the same day.  There are three boys and one girl, all beautiful, and being cared for by two of the best mommies in the world with help from grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  Both moms teach school. They are better women than I could ever be.  Two kids, three years apart were all I could handle, never mind being with other people’s kids all day long.

It was a delightful party. Sharon’s family members were welcoming and loving.  A family group of individuals like that one might not necessarily agree with each other on a lot of issues, but they get along and do love each other. My own relatives, scattered across the country have never been close. We rarely see or talk with each other unless someone dies.  Being with Sharon’s down-to-earth, soulful people was an experience I’ve rarely encountered.  I’m just a mite envious of her.

I am happy to be home. It’s cold but there are many sweet memories from this past week that will warm me through the rest of Virginia’s winter days.

Hug a friend and celebrate who they are!!

I walked on Sharon's Beach every day!

Filed Under: family, Friendships, Gratefulness, The Sea, Travels

Giving Thanks

November 23, 2011 By

Today is Thanksgiving Eve.  There is so much to celebrate and to be grateful for, I don’t know where to begin. But needing to begin somewhere, I am grateful for this lovely Iris that I planted last spring.

It is one that blooms twice a year, in spring and in the fall.  I’ve been admiring them in a garden that I’m familiar with for several seasons. Even entertained the idea of slipping in one moonless night with a shovel.  But of course that is stealing.  This bit of loveliness that I carefully set in my garden in May did not bloom at that time, but weeks ago I began to see signs that she was getting ready to present me with a glorious Thanksgiving gift.  It has been a fairly warm fall here, but we’ve had hard freezes and still she stayed the course.  I am grateful for this bit of color, as the rest of garden goes brown for the winter.

Peppermint

I am grateful for my veterinarian, Richard,  who is working with two of my pets who have been strangely ill these last weeks.  He’s promised to not charge me for rent because I’m in his office so often and kindly puts up with my panic when Peppermint, the cat, can’t walk without falling over or when sweet Molly, my little Maltese-mix , throws up all over the place and is in serious pain.  Both are doing better, but seem to have life long issues that they will need medication for.

Molly

I am grateful for all of my family.  My supportive husband who edits and helps me clean up most of these posts. He seems to know where I’m coming from and where I’m going before I do.  My children and grandchildren continue to be my teachers and sparkling rays of sunshine on dark, rainy days. For my brother, Zed, who has helped me through much loss.

I am grateful for all my helpers along the way.  Kevin, for recently agreeing to be my writing coach as I begin to cross treacherous seas and entertain the idea of a book.  He will be going off on a Semester At Sea, Around the World Cruise in the New Year. With his other coaching and writing jobs he may not be with me for long, but he is giving me phenomenal direction, not by telling me what to do, but by asking pertinent questions.

I am grateful to my dear friend, Sharon, who through her own pain, steadily holds the torch for me while I dig through layers of the past.  I can’t do it without the light she sheds on my life.

I am grateful to all of you who come to visit here and let me know what you think, whether by leaving a comment or sending an email.  I am grateful for all of you who don’t leave comments but come back again and again.  I know you are out there.

I am grateful for the richness of my life … my friends, those I find difficult, and the day-to-day comings and goings of people and creatures who cross my path.

May Peace Be With You All!

Filed Under: Animals I Love, family, Gratefulness, Life, stories, Thanksgiving, The Garden, The Seasons
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