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Tag Archives: Tabby

I Didn’t Mean to be Melancholy

I had meant to make a post about one of my recent Mohawk Valley adventures, but I’m afraid today is going to be more of a Middle-aged Musings Monday, if not Melancholy Monday, or even a Memories Monday.  Oh, all right, I’ll stop alliterating and start blogging.

Today on my Facebook On This Day, I noted that one year ago today we brought our sweet Spunky home from his foster dad’s (I even wrote a blog post about it).  Regular readers may recall that we sadly lost Spunkman (as Steven liked to call him) far too soon (I wrote a blog post about that, too).  I miss having a dog, but the time seems not right to adopt another one yet.

Logging on to WordPress, I noticed a post from a blogger I follow about how she and her guy adopted a puppy, Meet Harper, the Resuce Pup!  Full disclosure:  I do not read all posts by all the bloggers I follow.  This one I read.   Rescue dogs are the best!  And people who adopt them are awesome!  Oh dear, that sounded like I was tooting my own horn, but I was not, really.  For one reason, I have not adopted another dog since losing Spunky.  I don’t know if I ever will, although as I read somewhere, pets happen.

So I am remembering our little Spunky, and our sweet Tabby, who lived with us from 2007 to 2015.  Dogs enrich our lives immeasurably, but so is the sadness immeasurable when we lose them.  I suppose I could say something profound about how you have to have the sad to appreciate the happy, and I even know such a thing to be true.  But I’m afraid it would sound glib and trite, because profundity is not my strong suit.

I also feel I should apologize for intruding sadness into my silly blog, especially when the occasion for sadness is sometime past.  Then again, who can explain emotions and why apologize for them?  I like to say, sometimes you just have to feel that way until you don’t feel that way any more.  I’ll try for a better post tomorrow.

 

Scattered, then Snapped on Saturday

No, I didn’t suddenly snap and murder somebody, although that would have made quite the blog post, I suppose. How much internet access do they grant you in jail? I’m figuring if I murdered anybody I would get caught.  It’s all very well to trash talk that I know how to commit a murder, but in fact, any murderer I’ve written about has gotten caught.  But I digress.

This was hands-down a better Saturday than last one, because I didn’t have a headache.  I didn’t even have to take any medication to make it happen; I just got lucky.  Or blessed, I suppose.  However, I can’t say it was any better of a Saturday in the category of getting stuff done.  No, that, not so much.  But I shall attempt to make a blog post about what I did do, so I can get back to watching Snapped (you know, from the headline?).

Steven and I got up at the delightful time of 6:30 a.m.  That is SO much better than getting up at three! No, I’m not whining about getting up at 3 a.m.; I do it for a reason and I do not repine.  However, I LOVE getting to sleep in a little!  Even when I can’t exactly sleep (I am a long-time insomniac, but don’t worry about me).  I had no plan for the day, but I knew there were several things it would behoove me to get done.  Go to Melfe’s for work shoes, study my lines for Steel Magnolias, finish writing the various murder mysteries I have committed to, clean the house, do laundry, go running… the list went on and on.

I crossed out the first item mentioned by strategically postponing it till Wednesday, Steven’s next day off.  He wants to go to Melfe’s to see if they have any shoes that might be good for his work.  Having good shoes makes your work day SO much easier to get through!  After chatting on the phone with my Dad and Mom (that was not on the list, but it is something I almost always do on Saturday), I wrote a few postcards to the folks I usually write postcards to (that was not on my list, either, but it is something I usually do).

After Steven left for work, I felt kind of like a lump pondering what to do.  When Tabby was our dog, she loved to walk with me to the post office.  However, Spunky does not like to take long walks.  I took him for a short business meeting, after which he contentedly snoozed on the couch.  I went upstairs to take a shower.  After I was naked but before I was actually in the shower, I noticed what I had been noticing all week, that the bathroom really needed cleaning.  I have heard about women cleaning naked, to keep from messing up their clothes.  I tried it.  It was no problem, except when Spunky started barking and I wondered if someone was at the door.  I put on a bathrobe and ventured down.  False alarm.  I finished cleaning and showered.  Now what to do?

Finally I sat down and started working on my lines for Steel Magnolias.  I do the trick that was taught to me by my fourth grade church school teacher, Sister Mary Christina.  It was how she taught us the Act of Contrition (fourth grade is when you make your First Confession, or Reconciliation as I guess it is called now).  I include the trick for any possible benefit others may derive from it:  Take it one or two sentences at a time.  Say it out loud ten times, looking at it, say if five times not looking at it.  I still have to study the lines after that, but the trick really helps.

You know, it is kind of boring to say a line out loud over and over, not to mention hard on your throat when you have a little post-nasal drip, which I often do.  I persevered as best I could.  Finally I decided to take a break and walk to the post office.  I even thought of doing a Pedestrian Post and just writing about the walk, because I took a rather long way back and stretched it to almost a half hour.  I need the exercise and I really wasn’t up to running.  If only it were not face-hurting cold out, my life would have been perfect.

Back home, I studied my lines some more, spent some time looking at Facebook, read the newspapers I had been neglecting all week (this could be construed as a cleaning chore, since I put them in the recycling box when I had finished with them), waited for Steve to come home for lunch.  The only other remotely useful thing I did was go to the liquid store (as it is sometimes known) and purchase some white wine, a glass of which I am currently enjoying.  Oh, and I took Spunky for two more business meetings.  Good dog.

Ooh, look at me, over 800 words.  I wonder if anybody will read to the end?  If you did, thanks!  I hope I wasn’t boring.  And I hope you are having a wonderful weekend.  Peace out.

 

Murky Monday Meanderings

I am having the damnedest time making my blog post today.  I’m sitting here with my laptop on my lap, being partially distracted by an extremely cheesy true crime show on cable television, and beginning one post after another, none of them very good.

So what, I think to myself.  I can just do a Monday Mental Meanderings, also known as Yet Another Post About Why I Can’t Write a Post Today.  I was going to blame it on menopausal brain freeze (or is that brain fog?  You see what bad shape I’m in!).  I can’t remember why I decided against that course (see what I did just now?).

We went for a nice little walk with our new (to us) little dog.  We met a couple of neighborhood dogs with their person and said hello.  Spunky is much more interested in meeting other dogs than Tabby ever was.  Tabby preferred people or cats.  We only went around the block, but it was pleasant.   Alas, not eventful enough to warrant a Pedestrian Post.

I don’t even have great plans for the coming week, so I can’t do a Preview of Coming Attractions, either.  On the other hand, I do plan to run tomorrow.  I could do a Running Commentary.  How’s that for a plan?  Or perhaps I could try to write about some of the cheese I’m watching tonight.  Right now, I’m turning my foggy brain back to that.  Happy Monday, everyone.

 

Post on the Pending Pooch

Oh dear, I’m afraid this may become Non-Sequitur Thursday after all, because all I can come up with so far is the headline.  Still, it would be rude not to explain.  Kind of like those people on Facebook who make posts like, “What a big decision to make!” or “I may have some big news to share” or… you know.  It drives everybody nuts, but apparently the temptation to do so is almost overwhelming.

However, this is not Facebook but my own blog and although I maintain I have a perfect right to pair what title and post I please, I will explain.

Regular readers may remember that Steven and I lost our beloved schnoodle Tabby last June.  We have greatly missed having a dog in the house.  We knew we would eventually get another pooch.  Of course there will never be another Tabby (I feel sad all over again just thinking about her), but many dogs need love and a home, and we could surely benefit from the love and companionship of a dog.

Steven suggested we look for a dog in May, after Leading Ladies (remember, that play I directed at Ilion Little Theatre?).  Well, May came and went, and we just did not make it over to the Herkimer County Humane Society (except for their garage sale, where I bought some fun stuff.  Did I write a blog post about that?).  We did not make it to their Mutt Strut either, although we had planned to. Was it ever going to be dog o’clock for us?

Then The Velvet Dog, where we used to bring Tabby to be groomed, posted a picture of a quite adorable Shih Tzu who needed a home because his owner had died.  Spunky was ten years old, older than we had envisioned.  We would hope to have more years with our new dog than we had with Tabby.  Still, he needed a home!  And many people are unwilling to adopt a ten year old dog for the same reason which made us hesitate.

After asking many questions about Spunky via Facebook, Steven made arrangements to go to The Velvet Dog Wednesday morning to meet him.  I couldn’t wait till lunch time to call Steven and see how it went (but I DID wait, I was not on my cell phone during work hours, just in case any bosses read this blog) (oh who am I kidding?  My boss probably doesn’t even know I write a blog!).  I confess I would not have been disappointed to find out Spunky was already at our house.  However, Steven rarely behaves in a thoroughly reckless fashion.  He liked Spunky but wanted me to meet him too.

Accordingly, I met Steven at The Velvet Dog after work yesterday to become acquainted with Spunky.  What a cute little dog he is!  He is not nearly as rambunctious and friendly as Tabby was, but he allowed me to hold and pet him.  He is still very sad and confused.  When I set him down, he kept going to the door and looking out, presumably wondering why his person hadn’t come to get him.  That made me very sad for him.

Steven suggested we pick him up on Sunday.  We both have the day off so can spend a good amount of time with him before leaving him to go to work on Monday.  I am SO looking forward to having a dog again!  I will probably write a lot of blog posts about him.

 

Is It Dog O’clock?

I am sitting in my living room watching Best in Show, one of the Christopher Guest mockumentaries (well, I expected my computer to tell me that’s not a word), and I am reminded that Steven and I said we were going to get a new dog after we were done with Leading Ladies.  As I earlier posted on Facebook that post-play letdown has set it in, I guess now’s the time.

Readers may remember that last June we lost our beloved schnoodle Tabby to cancer.  It was sudden and tragic.  We’re still very sad about it.  Of course we are not replacing Tabby.  There will never be another Tabby.  But we miss having a dog, and there are a lot of dogs out there who need a loving home.

We plan to start at Herkimer County Humane Society.  I signed up to volunteer there last June but never followed up.  In my defense, I had to fill out an application and wait for the board to approve me.  At the same time this was happening, I got involved with the play Roxy at Ilion Little Theatre and I was training to run the Boilermaker.   In short, I been busy.

Now my schedule has settled down somewhat, and I am ready to walk a dog.  One good thing about that is, if I go to volunteer at the Humane Society, that will be something good to write blog posts about.  Won’t that be nice after All Leading Ladies All The Time and the lame foolishness that has followed?

In the meantime, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  Nobody reasonable was expecting an excellent blog post today.  And Steven wants to watch another Christopher Guest movie.

 

Spoiler Alert! It’s a Two-Parter!

Sometimes, when you want to do something, you just decide to do it, then you do it.  Some of you are rolling your eyes saying, “I’ve been TELLING you that!”  Others, perhaps also with an eye roll, are asking me if it is really, truly that easy.  My good friends (I hope you know who you are) are saying, “Oh, good for you, Cindy, what did you do?”

I have been trying, without much notable success, to keep from prosing on about my dreadful headaches (my computer seems to think “prosing” is not a word, but I’m sure I’ve seen it used elsewhere).  However, to convey my real sense of accomplishment today, I must emphasize that I have been suffering terribly from painful headaches, often accompanied by nausea.

These headaches often begin in the middle of the night, my most hated kind of headache.  I mean, if you get a headache during the day, you feel that in the last resort you can always lie down to try to get rid of it.  If you wake up with it, what are you going to do?  If you wake up with it in the middle of the night, go back to sleep with it, and wake up with it feeling even worse, I think you may be forgiven for feeling extremely ill-used.

And that is all the whining about my headaches that I have been trying so hard to keep out of the blog.  I am truly mortified. Is anybody still reading?  Should I erase the last two paragraphs and start over again?  Should I mention or refrain from mentioning that I have a pounding headache now which is making it difficult to write?  Should I further mention that I am running out of adjectives to describe my headaches?

What a big, fat baby I am.  My apologies.  At least you can all feel a frisson of virtue that YOU do not complain so much about your aches and pains

Be all that as it may, the last time I ran was Christmas Day, when I took a short run in the cold followed by, you guessed it, a worsening of my headache.  I have walked and shoveled snow for exercise since then.  I did not want to wait too long to begin running again.  When Steven left for work shortly before 9:30 this morning (New Year’s Day; ignore the date under the title), I got ready and set out.

It was snowing and just above freezing temperature, so I dressed extra warmly.  I had it in my head to run up the hill to Herkimer College (which I persist in referring to as HCCC).  I had meant to run up that hill BEFORE 2016, but one does not always meet one’s goals and I find it is best to refrain from beating oneself up but to keep striving.  I turned down German Street, picking my way down the icy sidewalk.  It was not glare ice, but thick, uneven ice, the kind you can easily turn your ankle on.

The falling snow was pretty.  It would have been a nice day for a walk with a dog.  I felt sad all over again, missing my dear departed schnoodle, Tabby.  At least I had the happiness of knowing her.

Would I really run up the hill to the college?  I was out here running at all, I thought that was pretty good.  I could probably feel pleased with myself no matter what I did, short run, long run, no hill, little hill… hill by Valley Health?  Back way to HCCC?  I pondered as I went.  I can’t say I was rocking it as I ran, but it wasn’t too painful either.

If this was in a book, I thought, it would be very important to make it to the top of the hill.  If I made it to the top of the hill, it would mean I would meet all my goals for 2016.  I would finish my novel, do a great job directing for Ilion Little Theatre, lose 15 pounds, clean my house, grow a vegetable garden…  And if I got halfway up the hill and turned around, I would probably be homeless by March, friendless and despised.

I knew, of course, that I was being silly.  For one reason, if I started running up the hill to HCCC, I was going to make it to the top.  I pretty much always do.

Hey, I just noticed something:  I am over 700 words already.  That is a long blog post for me.  I’m going to sign off here and make this a two parter (what, parter isn’t a word either?  What’s that all about, computer?).  Did I make to the top of the hill?  Did I try?  Did I continue to get silly?  Tune in tomorrow, for the first Saturday Running Commentary of 2016!

 

Post-Christmas Pedestrian Post

I have not done a Pedestrian Post in a while.  Wait a minute, maybe I have… Oh, I just don’t feel like going back and looking.  I’m going to make a Pedestrian Post now and if you don’t like, well, that is the chance I take.

Where was I?  Ah yes, the day after Christmas.  Boxing Day, the Feast of Stephen, and Post-Christmas Letdown Day.  Oh, don’t tell me I can choose to feel happy.  Sometimes you just have to feel the way you feel.  That said, I thought it better not to dwell on how I was feeling but to try to get a few things done.  To that end, I sat down and wrote out several postcards.

I have mentioned before how I like to send postcards.  There are a few shut-ins and semi-shut-ins I try to send to regularly, and I usually write one or two to whoever I happen to think of at the moment.  Today it was a friend I have not one but two letters written to in two different notebooks.   It was just easier to dash off a postcard than to search for the other notebook (I knew where one was).  I’ll get the letter mailed out subsequently.

As I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I had something of an urge to go running instead.  However, I was disinclined to run to the post office with a handful of postcards.  For one reason, I might drop them.  For another, my glasses would undoubtedly fog when I walked into the post office to mail them.  This is all very well when one is walking, but I just didn’t want to deal with it in the middle of the run.  I could run later. I would walk now.  I would take a longish walk, in case I didn’t run later.  This would work.

My first observation on setting out was that it was foggy.  My second observation was that it is much better to walk with a dog.  Oh, how I miss my dear Tabby.  It was our Saturday thing, to walk to the post office with post cards.  Well, I still needed the exercise, so I kept going.

It was cold, but I was warmly dressed.  Only my face got increasingly colder, but I told myself not to worry about it.  I knew it might induce a sinus headache, but I could drink a cup of hot tea for that later. The sun was up so very few Christmas lights were still on and those that were were not very bright.  In Meyers Park the lights on the trees and the gazebo (or is it a bandstand?) shone bravely if faintly in the fog.  I felt a little encouraged on seeing them.

It took a very short time to get to the post office.  My glasses did not fog when I walked in.  At least, I did not notice they were fogged.  As I had walked I could not always tell if the fog was getting thicker or if my glasses were betraying me.  However, since I could see well enough to maneuver, I persevered.

About 20 minutes into the walk, I started to feel better about things.  I read somewhere that a brisk 30 minute walk is the equivalent of two Zoloft tablets.  I do enjoy how my legs feel as I stride along.  I tried not to let my cold face bother me.  I kept my hands in my pockets, so they were warm too.  Walking, I thought, was better than running.  If I had been running, my hands would be stiff by now.

I ended up walking 40 minutes and feeling pretty good about it. I see that I have written mostly about myself and have not included many observations of Herkimer.  I was looking around, and I managed to see things other than the fog.  I passed the Historic Four Corners twice.  Well, I will have to write an observation-filled Pedestrian Post next time.  I hope you are all having a lovely December the 26th.