Obituaries, a vet visit, and a good dinner

Haute cuisine in the cottage

Not too long ago, the obituary writer was a respected member of any newspaper’s staff. It takes talent, skill, and practice to condense a life into a few, meaningful paragraphs. These days, obituaries are syndicated, expensive, and in some cases a scam that can trap you into an endless cycle of intrusive emails. I learned these lessons the hard way. To begin with, the obit for my brother, John Peckham, in the Star-Telegram cost almost $3/word. We shortened and shortened, leaving out what we thought were some of his major accomplishments as well as some of the tidbits that made him a fascinating person. It seems you don’t really contract with your local paper but with a national company called Legacy, Inc. Since we were writing it ourselves, I never explored the options for help from either the newspaper or the national company.

The first problem came when we wanted an estimate. My niece, burdened with much on her mind, asked if I would get that. The only way to do it was to fill out the form, so pretty soon it looked like before they gave me an estimate I would have to guarantee payment. I couldn’t do it in her name because I didn’t know if she subscribes to the paper and that’s apparently a requirement. I did finally get a rough cost, and she took over. The obituary appeared as scheduled and looked fine—a bit bare bones and short, but okay. Jenn had added at the bottom the location of a small celebration of life.

Days later I wanted to verify the proper name of that location to share with a friend. Couldn’t find the obituary, so I clicked on one of those “find anyone” sites that came up when I asked to find an obit, filled in John’s information, and waited. I never did get the information, but I was somehow signed up for something called Truth Finder which offered, for a fee, to dig up all kinds of information about John, including previous arrests for assault and similar unsavory tidbits. He was by no means an angel all his life, but I thought that was stretching it a bit.

That site never did find what I needed, and I found it elsewhere. But now I get constant reminders, two at a time—Am I still looking for John? Would I like to bring John back into my life? And similar inanities. These “reminders” appear, large, in the corner of my screen so they cannot be ignored. You must click on them and then close out to get them to go away. There is no unsubscribe button, which I suspect is illegal. They’re not on Facebook, so I can’t block them, and I’m not tech savvy enough to know how to make them go away. Among other reasons why it’s so wrong, it’s an insult to grieving families.

While I’m at it, another internet complaint: this is aimed at various Democratic fund-raising branches. Republicans are probably just as bad, but I only occasionally hear from them, and I respond with an instant, “Stop!” or unsubscribe. But Democrats complain all the time that I have not confirmed I will vote for Biden—when clearly I have. There is apparently little or no coordination between sites—even though Act Blue is supposed to be a clearinghouse. They appoint me to focus groups and choose me as one of a select group to represent my city or county or they beg for m valuable input on a poll. Turns out the poll questions could be answered by a five-year-old with good sense, and inevitably they lead to a plea for me to pledge a good-sized monthly amount. I think one reason they don’t well in polling is because so many, like me, get turned off by these inane, repetitious emails and refuse to answer. Somewhere, someone smart about marketing, must think this works, but it beats me. I long for the days of Lincoln, when campaigning was considered beneath a candidate.

On a brighter note, Benji went to the vet yesterday. He, who is wild Indian and totally untrained on the leash, behaved like an angel and captivated the vet’s staff. He had been to his Humane Society vet (because he was a rescue) just a couple of weeks before we got him, but we wanted the family vet to know him—we have been taking dogs to University Animal Hospital since the mid- to late sixties. Dr. Minnerly pronounced him fit, said he is smart, and suggested some training ideas. Of the barking which worries me, he said, “At the end of the day, he’s a dog, and dogs bark.”

And last night, despite my curtailed eating habits, I fixed a smashing dinner for Mary V.: sour cream, smoked salmon, pickled cucumbers and onion, and capers on puff pastry. The pastry puffed so high I almost didn’t know what to do with it and ended poking the air out of it with a fork before adding the toppings. We enjoyed it, and I had my leftovers for lunch today. Smoked salmon goes on the list of foods I can eat with ease.

Happy Friday, everyone. Hope you have big plans for the weekend, if that suits you, or else look forward to a quiet day with a book and a chair in the sun. It’s supposed to be sunny, comfortable temperature, and pleasant in North Texas. Hope for you too, wherever you are.

 

A day in limbo

 

Sophie waiting for company on the patio.
We had our first patio gathering tonight.

This morning before I was even out of bed, the vet called with not-so-good news. Sophie’s kidneys were failing. He didn’t sound hopeful, but he said we would give her the morning and see how she did. He’d call back mid-day. So I piddled—read emails, read Facebook, answered a bit of correspondence, but all thoughts of creative work fled. I was watching the clock and wondering what his idea of mid-day was. I think I was a case study in suspended animation.

My kids rallied around, as they always do when I need them. Colin, skiing with his family in Wolf Creek, Colorado, has called three times and been very supportive. I guess the best thing he said to me was, “You’re always tough about the big things.” And this, I agreed, was a big thing. Megan, packing up her family in Tahoe to head home, called, and Jamie called from Denver and tried to cheer me with made-up Biblical quotes. I love them for trying, but talking to them made me teary. I was better off when I didn’t talk about Sophie.

Dr. Burney called around two o’clock. No change. She was still lethargic, not interested in food, not interested in peeing, kind of mentally sluggish as well as physically. But he didn’t sound ready to give up. When I said, “She was my miracle baby,” he said, “Oh, I know. Mine two.” So we decided to give her the afternoon. He called about five-thirty, and we agreed to give her until morning. Are we postponing the inevitable? Maybe. One thought I had was that whether or not Soph took advantage of the day, it had been a help to me, allowed me a chance to collect myself and face what lies ahead. I sent her a telepathic message this morning, told her it was up to her—she either had to turn it around or shut it down, but she had to save me from making the decision. Dr. Burney said he was sure she got the message, but he would repeat it to her. I love that man.

So we are still in limbo. I think tomorrow morning, no matter which way it goes, Jordan and I will go to the veterinary clinic and see her. When she was so sick a year ago, Dr. Burney warned me that she would be mad at me, because she thought whatever happened to her was my doing. And boy, was he right. She wouldn’t come near me. So that worries me a bit about going to see her. Jordan thinks seeing us will give her a boost. I am not sure.

And to pile complication on complication: Jacob has tested positive for Covid. He’s just home from a three-day fishing/swimming/hanging out trip to Oklahoma with three buddies. Called his mom at lunch and said he couldn’t taste his Chick Filet. (In my opinion that’s a good thing—I boycott Chick Filet, but he loves it and I can’t appeal to his teenage hunger on moral grounds). So when he got home, he tested positive. So now he’s bummed, because he can’t hang out with his buddies during his senior year spring break, and he can’t work to earn money.

But there is family good news. My brother, who is pretty much bedridden, has been in the hospital for two or three weeks, but it looks like he can go home tomorrow. I’m so grateful for small slivers of hope.

Tonight Subie and Phil came for a drink. She said she watched all day for a message telling them not to come, but I would have wanted them here no matter which way things went with Sophie. They are longtime friends, the kind who are a comfort, and they were tonight. It was the first time Subie drove over our new, nicely flat driveway, and she was full of raves about it.

I am deeply grateful to all of you who have sent hugs and prayers and good wishes. You help me as I wait in limbo, and I’m sure. If she knew, Sophie would be grateful too. She always did love to be the center of attention.

A hectic day

Grilled cheese at Neighbor's Grill

Today should have been an ordinary, pleasant day. I anticipated a lunch with my friend, Carol, but otherwise pretty much an easy day until Jordan had girls in for happy hour before the rodeo. The Lord apparently had other plans for us.

Last night I noticed a bald spot, about the size of a nickel, on Sophie’s flank (I have only recently learned where the flank is—I always thought it meant thigh but not so; it’s on the trunk). We took a picture, and this morning I sent it to the vet. Response: we need to see her.  Since I can’t get my energetic and excitable dog into the car while managing my walker, Jordan had to interrupt her work and drop her off. A couple of hours later, she was ready to be home, so Jordan had to go again.

Meantime I went to lunch with Carol. We went to Neighbors Grocery, a new downtown grocery which was advertised to have terrific burgers—elk, bison, or beef—on Fridays. Turns out it’s only Friday evening, but they are known for the grilled cheese sandwiches. I had grilled cheese with prime rib, and Carol had grilled cheese with brisket. We both agreed they were outstanding. I also had a cup of black-eyed pea soup. It was peas in a tomato broth, lightly seasoned, and delicious. They also have a selection of deli sandwiches, so we brought Jordan a pastrami sandwich.

The store is interesting. Very upscale. You don’t get Starkist tuna there—you get Cento tuna and other off, expensive, wild brands. Carol found a can of boneless, skinless sardines, which made me wonder how much is left of those small fish. Lots of wine, lots of mixers, exotic teas, snacks—a huge refrigerator of sausage and cheese which would have delighted Jordan’s happy hour-loving heart. There’s an emphasis on health and organic foods, and even the chips that came with Carol’s lunch were obviously house made. Not greasy, crisp and real potato flavor. They also offer entrees at lunch. Today they were salmon with lemon sauce and a chicken dish.

If you’re planning to cook dinner, this is not a place you shop. But if you’re downtown and ready for lunch, it’s a great alternative. And if you live downtown—or work there—and want to pick something up on the way home for dinner, it’s a great stop.   I imagine the groceries are expensive, but our lunch sandwiches were $10, which is about what you’d pay anywhere for a good sandwich.

Getting there was not easy. We parked in a garage across the street—free—but the handicapped access ramp was slick and scary. And then we had to cross Sixth Street, which is full of cracks that kept tripping my walker. And the ramp up to the sidewalk was also without traction and scary. I was a bit shaky and done in when we got there. When we left, Carol drove around to get me right in front of the building. I’ll go again but armed with quarters for the meter parking right outside the door.

Meantime, back home, I noticed the Sophie was licking her hot spot. So I had to go to the vet to get an Elizabethan collar. We put it on her, and she instantly got it off. Tried again, and it took a little longer, but she still pawed and shook until it came off. In the late afternoon I called and was told to weave her collar into the loops of the Elizabethan collar. Jacob declined to do that, said his dad would do it. So I’m waiting for dear old dad. Meantime, she licks occasionally but not constantly, and I’m wondering if we really need to subject her to that.

Another “meantime” – I went into the house for happy hour with the girls that were going to rodeo with Jordan, all girls I’m delighted to see and who give me great hugs. But I was antsy, nervous about Sophie, and came back to the cottage after half an hour or so.

It was a busy day at my desk too, but that’s a story for another day. Suffice to say, I have a lot of possible projects and a lot of reading to do to decide between them.

An unexpected day

June Bug, on the right

No writing. A day of the unexpected. Today got off to a hectic start at the Alter/Burton compound. We left at 8:20, dropped Jacob and a buddy at school, took June Bug to the vet, and made it only five minutes late to my cardiologist’s appt. Of course, we got lost in the hospital parking lot and had a couple of testy moments, but it all worked out. I worried bigtime over being late—doctors’ children are taught never to be late to a medical appointment. But it finally dawned on me that Jordan is also a doctor’s daughter, and she wasn’t nearly as upset about it as I was.

After all that worry which raised my blood pressure, we probably waited 45 minutes to see the doctor. Good appointment. The doctor seems to think I’m doing fine, explained a few things, reassured me. And as we left, the vet called and June Bug was ready to go home. It was almost eleven by the time we got home, and I spent the next hours catching up on email, etc.

About 2:30 I crawled into bed for a nap. Just closed my eyes when the phone rang. An old friend, a woman whose friendship I really value, was in town briefly and could she come now for a visit. I jumped up, made the bed, dressed—and waited 45 minutes for her to arrive. We had a great visit, lots of laughter, lots of worrying about the state of the nation. Now we’re Facebook friends, and I hope for an annual visit.

She was gone about 30 minutes when another dear friend arrived—I knew she was coming. She’s troubled and wanted to talk, a service I’m always glad to provide, though with a lot of self-doubt. We had a glass of wine and then she went to get us hamburgers from the Neighborhood Grill. Another good visit. Not sure how much help I was, but I tried…and she laughed a few times.

What this day has taught me is that I’m blessed with good friends, lasting friendships. That’s worth getting a day behind in writing any time. But, it has been a long day that began early and was without the nap time that I am almost addicted to. I’m sleepy tonight, and it’s chilly—supposed to go into the 40s. Not sure I’ll survive winter with grace. But for now, I have on wooly socks and flannel pjs and am considering wrapping the prayer shawl around my shoulders. Quite sure I’ll wake in the night too hot, but for now I’m cozy—and going to sleep early.

Monday blues on a Tuesday night

Monday blues on Tuesday night

May 17, 2016

For some reason unknown to me I have the Monday blues on a Tuesday night and indulged in a real pity party tonight when a friend dropped me off at dinner. My ankle that should be better by now is more painful tonight than it has been, and for some unknown reason I have a bruised and swollen right hand. This morning I couldn’t shift gears without using both hands, but it’s much better tonight. Still swollen and tender, so much so that someone commented on it at dinner. I’m getting tired of physical aches and pains, and I swear I’m not going to mention them again.

My good friend Subie said she’s found she has all these things happening to her right now—like yesterday’s cataract surgery—and she thinks they just come in spells and you have to live through them. I’ll adopt her philosophy, actually one I’ve always believed in—this too shall pass. I think it’s just as you age, those spells come more often and linger longer.

Actually it was a good day. Took Sophie to the vet today for her annual checkup, where she was pronounced in perfect health. It’s always a chore for me because she gets so excited, but I’ve developed a system—I drive the car right up to the gate to the yard, open the car door, and then cautiously open the gate, get a leash on a wriggly dog, and put her in the car where I attach a second leash that is like her car seat—or restraining leash or whatever. It assures she won’t go through the windshield if something awful happens. The vet staff kept oohing and aahing about how cute and well behaved she was—they just haven’t seen her at her demanding most. Tonight as I was leaving for dinner, she escaped and went rocketing down the front sidewalk with Subie and Jordan in hot pursuit. I hollered for Jacob, and he and his friend Hayes bolted out the door. They all came back dragging an unrepentant Sophie. I told her I didn’t spend all that money at the vet this morning only to have her run away tonight.

Had a nice lunch with my mentor today—he doesn’t like that term but he’s the one who practically hand-carried me through graduate school and reads almost everything I write. We’ve been friends for forty years and are frequent lunch buddies. We chat about our writing projects, our families, politics (in complete agreement) and other things going on in our lives.

And tonight was neighbors’ night at the Grill, so I had a pleasant dinner with good friends.

Jordan meanwhile was at the house rearranging this and that and preparing for the book sale tomorrow. She has invited moms and teachers from Jacob’s school, and is preparing for a party with wine and snacks. I have my orders to straighten the house in the morning—my desk, my bedroom, and the bathroom. She has invested so much time and effort into this that I hope it goes well. My coffee table holds a huge pile of books—if you come in this house you cannot leave without taking a book. Great idea on her part. At this point I’m less interested in making a profit than I am in downsizing my library.

Busy times!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday blues on Tuesday night

May 17, 2016

For some reason unknown to me I have the Monday blues on a Tuesday night and indulged in a real pity party tonight when a friend dropped me off at dinner. My ankle that should be better by now is more painful tonight than it has been, and for some unknown reason I have a bruised and swollen right hand. This morning I couldn’t shift gears without using both hands, but it’s much better tonight. Still swollen and tender, so much so that someone commented on it at dinner. I’m getting tired of physical aches and pains, and I swear I’m not going to mention them again.

My good friend Subie said she’s found she has all these things happening to her right now—like yesterday’s cataract surgery—and she thinks they just come in spells and you have to live through them. I’ll adopt her philosophy, actually one I’ve always believed in—this too shall pass. I think it’s just as you age, those spells come more often and linger longer.

Actually it was a good day. Took Sophie to the vet today for her annual checkup, where she was pronounced in perfect health. It’s always a chore for me because she gets so excited, but I’ve developed a system—I drive the car right up to the gate to the yard, open the car door, and then cautiously open the gate, get a leash on a wriggly dog, and put her in the car where I attach a second leash that is like her car seat—or restraining leash or whatever. It assures she won’t go through the windshield if something awful happens. The vet staff kept oohing and aahing about how cute and well behaved she was—they just haven’t seen her at her demanding most. Tonight as I was leaving for dinner, she escaped and went rocketing down the front sidewalk with Subie and Jordan in hot pursuit. I hollered for Jacob, and he and his friend Hayes bolted out the door. They all came back dragging an unrepentant Sophie. I told her I didn’t spend all that money at the vet this morning only to have her run away tonight.

Had a nice lunch with my mentor today—he doesn’t like that term but he’s the one who practically hand-carried me through graduate school and reads almost everything I write. We’ve been friends for forty years and are frequent lunch buddies. We chat about our writing projects, our families, politics (in complete agreement) and other things going on in our lives.

And tonight was neighbors’ night at the Grill, so I had a pleasant dinner with good friends.

Jordan meanwhile was at the house rearranging this and that and preparing for the book sale tomorrow. She has invited moms and teachers from Jacob’s school, and is preparing for a party with wine and snacks. I have my orders to straighten the house in the morning—my desk, my bedroom, and the bathroom. She has invested so much time and effort into this that I hope it goes well. My coffee table holds a huge pile of books—if you come in this house you cannot leave without taking a book. Great idea on her part. At this point I’m less interested in making a profit than I am in downsizing my library.

Busy times!

 

For some reason unknown to me I have the Monday blues on a Tuesday night and indulged in a real pity party tonight when a friend dropped me off at dinner. My ankle that should be better by now is more painful tonight than it has been, and for some unknown reason I have a bruised and swollen right hand. This morning I couldn’t shift gears without using both hands, but it’s much better tonight. Still swollen and tender, so much so that someone commented on it at dinner. I’m getting tired of physical aches and pains, and I swear I’m not going to mention them again.

My good friend Subie said she’s found she has all these things happening to her right now—like yesterday’s cataract surgery—and she thinks they just come in spells and you have to live through them. I’ll adopt her philosophy, actually one I’ve always believed in—this too shall pass. I think it’s just as you age, those spells come more often and linger longer.

Actually it was a good day. Took Sophie to the vet today for her annual checkup, where she was pronounced in perfect health. It’s always a chore for me because she gets so excited, but I’ve developed a system—I drive the car right up to the gate to the yard, open the car door, and then cautiously open the gate, get a leash on a wriggly dog, and put her in the car where I attach a second leash that is like her car seat—or restraining leash or whatever. It assures she won’t go through the windshield if something awful happens. The vet staff kept oohing and aahing about how cute and well behaved she was—they just haven’t seen her at her demanding most. Tonight as I was leaving for dinner, she escaped and went rocketing down the front sidewalk with Subie and Jordan in hot pursuit. I hollered for Jacob, and he and his friend Hayes bolted out the door. They all came back dragging an unrepentant Sophie. I told her I didn’t spend all that money at the vet this morning only to have her run away tonight.

Had a nice lunch with my mentor today—he doesn’t like that term but he’s the one who practically hand-carried me through graduate school and reads almost everything I write. We’ve been friends for forty years and are frequent lunch buddies. We chat about our writing projects, our families, politics (in complete agreement) and other things going on in our lives.

And tonight was neighbors’ night at the Grill, so I had a pleasant dinner with good friends.

Jordan meanwhile was at the house rearranging this and that and preparing for the book sale tomorrow. She has invited moms and teachers from Jacob’s school, and is preparing for a party with wine and snacks. I have my orders to straighten the house in the morning—my desk, my bedroom, and the bathroom. She has invested so much time and effort into this that I hope it goes well. My coffee table holds a huge pile of books—if you come in this house you cannot leave without taking a book. Great idea on her part. At this point I’m less interested in making a profit than I am in downsizing my library.

Busy times!