Poor Mochi.  She looks a little like I feel.  Mid January.  Bleh.

Christmas is over, the kids (ha! the one who was here) are all gone, the decorations are put away.  Tax return documents are coming in so that means taxes are around the corner.  Even the magazines arriving in the mail are thin, not full of promise and gorgeous holiday decorating ideas the way they were pre-Christmas.  It's all part of the normal post-holiday malaise.   

This photo was taken the day Mochi came home from surgery for her ACL repair, her SECOND, and I swear it has to be her LA$T.  This picture  was taken on the day before Thanksgiving right after we carried  her moaning dead weight into the house.   Poor thing.  She was so pitiful but she sure snapped out of it quicker than she did the first time--last year-- when she had surgery on her OTHER leg.  The hair on her leg is now coming back, she seems to have recovered remarkably well, she's walking fine!   I hope that is a good indication for recovery from the mid-January blues as well.   A quick recovery!  Valentine's Day is around the corner and that means, in Georgia, at least, that spring will follow soon.  Banish Bleh!

That Little Blue Box

This really did happen shortly after Susan's story about Breakfast at Tiffany's -- I mean Starbucks....uncanny timing....it just took me awhile to post.  I had received an info email (from the many sources I find myself signed up to receive) about a sale on Tiffany's silver polish, with an added bonus of free shipping.    I have a small collection of beloved silver pieces so this was too good to pass up.  I was surprised but delighted when the box arrived in the mail and there was my silver polish in a blue box and all wrapped up with white ribbon!   My mom instilled in me the love of polishing silver....I might have been as young as 8 when she used to give me that job whenever company was coming.  To this day I love the satisfaction of turning tarnish into shine.  Truth be told I even like tarnish on some vintage items too.   I have been the lucky and excited recipient of a little blue box or few in my lifetime so I just had to leave it in the packaging until I really need to use it!    

Breakfast at Tiffany's...or Starbuck's

    On a recent morning, after taking a stressful exam at a testing center, I treated myself to my favorite cup of Starbuck's coffee.  The barista, who must have been all of 18, cheerfully took my order and then said.....DRUM ROLL....... "You look just like Audrey Hepburn!"  Well this day was looking up all of a sudden.  The next words out of her mouth were "Audrey Hepburn was audacious."  Oh my gosh, every time she opens her mouth, I am feeling better about myself.  Not only am I beautiful but I am also audacious!

     Fast forward three minutes - I have my coffee in hand and she stops me on my way out.  "By the way," she cheerily says "Do you know what audacious means?  I am learning to spell it in French but I am not sure what it means in English much less what it means in French."  After explaining to her the meaning of the word which I am pretty sure is the same no matter the language, I also tell her I think she meant to say Audrey was iconic although she was also audacious.

    As a final farewell, I happily say "Well have an audacious day".  I almost made it out that door before she called to me.  "Hey, I am not sure who Audrey Hepburn even was, are you?"

    My bubble burst, I had to laugh and remind myself that THIS is the state of the younger generation (of which no one would mistake me for) and the education system.  I continue to refer to myself as Susan Go Lightly!

Sorry Jo

I went back to check something in a post from last year and discovered that when I first came across the quote which inspired the name of our blog, I automatically assumed that the author of the quote, Jo Nesbo, was female.   I know, big mistake(!)... just take a look at the photos.  In my defense, I  happen to know a Josephine, Joellen, and several women named JoAnne, so I think it was only natural.   Funny thing is that  I vaguely recall reading---probably a book review-- about a crime thriller writer sometimes called the Norwegian Stieg Larsson.   Well, I never got the connection.    Even though Mr. Nesbo (in Norwegian his first name is pronounced like "you") will never read this blog I thought it only appropriate to mention him and show off a picture, well several pictures, of a man who indirectly inspired P.S. Pam and Susan to start blogging...  A man with steel blue eyes who just happens to be easy on the eyes....

This Road Goes WAY Back...

I was delighted to discover in today's newspaper  an article in the Travel section about a not-on-the-tip-of-everyone's-tongue roadway known as the Mohawk Trail.  The trail is actually a portion of Route 2 which runs east - west through western Massachusetts.  You can read the article here:

http://travel.nytimes.com/2012/10/07/travel/driving-the-mohawk-trail-in-massachusetts.html?pagewanted=all

The memories came flooding back to when I was living in Massachusetts in the early stages of high school and this was the route our family would take to visit my grandparents in Schenectady, NY.  Once, several years after I had my driver's license, my girlfriend and I drove over to take my grandmother back to Schenectady.   Memorable because on the way home we were gabbing so much we missed our exit and nearly ended up in Vermont.   It was awhile before I told my parents the real reason we were late getting back...and if my dad with his meticulous habit of calculating gas mileage ever noticed the extra miles we put on the car, he never questioned me. 

How many times did I traverse the Mohawk Trail, with its gorgeous scenery of the Berkshire Mountains, and the lower view of the Cold River with its  lovely bubbling waterfalls and some wonderful smooth rocks...(my source of material when I was in a painting rock stage of craftiness).  
Some highlights of the trail include the Hairpin Turn and the Summit with its gift shop filled with Indian-themed souvenirs, and of course the Indian statue.    I loved it when we took a potty break at the summit and wandered the giftshop with its tchotchkes:  cedar trinket boxes of all sizes stamped with the words "Souvenir of the Mohawk Trail",  miniature blown glass animals, Indian stuff that would today probably be considered politically incorrect like toy tomahawks,  feathered headdress, bows and arrows.   Even before we moved to MA and visited my grandparents in the summer from Ohio, we sometimes visited  the Mohawk Trail before it became our NY-MA destination route. (But only in good weather,  we rarely took the Trail in the winter time).

....Lots of happy childhood memories, when the words Mohawk Trail meant spending time with my grandparents-- either going to their house to visit or bringing them back to our house in Mass.  My grandmother especially enjoyed the scenic drive and a stop in Shelburne Falls to visit the Bridge of Flowers.   I was always amused by the sign Welcome to Florida--according to the article Florida, MA is reputed to be the coldest town in MA.  (Such humor.  I never knew that).   The Mohawk Trail by name alone conjures up the history of the area pre-dating automobiles when the Mohawk Indians ruled the valleys between upstate NY, MA and CT.  The Trail opened in October 1914, almost 100 years ago...back in the day when people got in their automobiles just to tour scenic roadways.  A perfect route for a road trip back in memories.

Being busy and having our hands full...

....it's all relative!  I was waiting in the doctor's office to get a flu shot when a woman came in with a stroller the size of a Smart Car (I am absolutely not kidding).  She had a tiny baby strapped to the front of her body and in the front of the stroller was a young tyke who looked like a young 18 months old (turns out I was right on the money).  The OTHER teeny baby was in the stroller rumble seat.   A toddler and twins! Whew!  I was exhausted just looking at her.  This scene definitely turned heads.  All the women in the waiting room   perked up and we all  smiled, oohed and aahed and offered help.  The mother-with-her-hands-full then proceeded to mention that she had two other kids: an 11-year old and a six- year old.  Whew baby!  You could almost hear the collective thoughts going through our heads..."boy I'm glad that's not me"...  While I was waiting I had been thinking how busy I was going to be and could they hurry up and call my name so I could get on with my day....
This definitely made me pause and reflect (pleasantly) to when I was once a young mom with a five-year old, a two-and-a-half-year old little rough and tumbler and a three-month old baby.  I thought I had it hard then maneuvering out in public a double stroller as long as the Queen Mary.  Busy!  I didn't field phone calls and deal with customers, but was definitely busy keeping everyone content, fed and safe...  It was a happy-kind of busy!

Coming Full Circle in Love

     Despite a childhood full of pets - everything from dogs, cats, ducks and rabbits, along with a pair of turtles I "boiled" to death by mistake while trying to clean them - I have always been known as the person who did not want a dog!  Not ever.  But throw in a couple of children who made a strong case for having one and a sudden moment of weakness in October 2001 and there I was writing a check to the Atlanta Humane Society for $82 and the honor of taking home a cute black one year old dog!  Bailey got her name before we even got home probably because my daughter was so shocked that Mom said yes that she wanted to claim her before I changed my mind.  I noted on the drive home that "This dog will probably be living at our house after the children leave home."  Famous last words...

     In the ensuing 11 years, Bailey became a full fledged member of the family.  She is the sweetest dog - never barked at anyone, did whatever you told her and added joy to our everyday life - if you can discount all the times she chewed through the fence, chewed the outside of the house trying to get in, ate some Christmas gifts under the tree or jumped THROUGH the screened porch screen to get inside during a storm.  Thunder and fireworks were not her thing!  In the beginning it was so bad that we hired a dog psychologist to work with her!  Did not help a bit.

     Despite her idiosyncrasies, our children loved her beyond words.  Their delight made all the other things worth it.  Seeing her in the basement playroom with her nose on the steps, watching her go wild with excitement when they came home from college, seeing her joy when someone got the leash that meant walk time, just always having her greet you when you came home was worth alot more than the $82.  Of course the bill did not include the thousands we later spent to repair a broken pelvis from a run in with a car, thousands more for surgery in 2010 to save her life when she had a tumor, several bouts of vestibular disease and a few awful bites from a copperhead in our yard!

     For the past few months Bailey has struggled with a rear leg that just did not want to work.  No more walks around the block; it was hard to even get up.  But two weeks ago suddenly neither rear leg would work.  The heartbreak of it all.  So we are at the crossroads of being good pet lovers and owners and need to make the decision to let her go.  The "children" who are no longer children are heartbroken, my husband who works from home and spends time with her as his office mate is already lonely and I, who have always seen Bailey as my last link to the time of having children at home can  hardly bear to think of it.  But we owe her one last thing - to make the end as easy as possible.  As my daughter said, "We cannot keep her alive just because WE are too sad to let her go." There was a great beginning and now the end is almost here.  Wish us luck...