02 May, 2012

Godspeed, Hot Scotch

(See photo-scroll down on left)


Hi, All,
The beautiful deadgrass girl I adopted what? 8 years ago, Hot Scotch, died today in my lap and arms. The last words she heard were  "good dog." I am glad for that. She is buried under two maple trees, between two predecessors, one my first, and only other Chessie.

Hot Scotch came to me at age 4 by plane from IL. She was terrified, barking and snarling at everyone from her crate! She had "issues," she peed all the time, all over, for reasons no one ever figured out. That was not great, but she was my dog, and I had made a promise to her. She fought other dogs, but got along with one of the other residents, and later the other, but not both at once. She was incredibly soft and absolutely beautiful. When she first came I played ball with her endlessly, and she played along dutifully, but one day just quit and never ran after a ball again! She did not like to swim, but loved to run in the fields. She was so afraid that she did not look into my face for two years after she arrived here. But this final day she looked in my face, as she has often after those first years, with her beautiful, soft, golden Chessie eyes. 
Godspeed, Hot Scotch, you were much loved and you will be much missed, but you need hurt nor panic any more.
(She probably had cancer, went to the brain, serious and terrifying seizures all last night. It was her time)
Thank you to this organization (Chesapeake Bay Retriever Relief and Rescue)  for allowing me the gift of my beautiful girl.
Karen in VT



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01 January, 2012

Caveat Seekers & Finders

A week or so ago I opened my work email, expecting to see the usual administrative messages and maybe even a question from a zealous student. Instead, there was only one message--a clear indication that I was the only one checking or dealing with college emails the week between Christmas and the new year, and no, I was not really a zealous student--anyway, glancing at the email roster my first reaction was confusion at reading the name of a friend I last talked to in Chicago circa 1982.

Still operating from the from-student-email expectation my brain did one of those negotiating double takes; that feeling of being in two places at once, only they don't match up. In the instant it took to put things in mental order I realized I'd been found. You know. Found: The result of one of those late night, slow afternoon or procrastinating moments when you think, "I'll look up...." and go on to google their name, all to often finding people who, what a surprise!, are the age you were when you last saw that person. Yeah. They are not 25 any more and neither are you. And so you go on with your life until the next time.

Occasionally, though, such searches meet with success, and there you are, faced with the hey, is this really you? email. I actually like these emails, and certainly like them much more than the old school phone call. After all, if things go bad with the email they do so from a distance, whereas if they go bad with the phone call they can go really bad. Some years ago, before google and facebook (this is beginning to sound like a fairy tale, but it is not, or at least not one of the pretty ones), a friend and I decided to look up someone we knew from Chicago. Same era, different person than the recent finder. The last thing we knew about her was her exhusband's name, and sort of the area he came from. I suppose we called directory assistance, or "information" as it was called then, and Voila! we had a phone number.

I offered to make the call. After all, it being her exhusband there could be some awkwardness. I was willing to deal with that. "After all," I said, "how bad could it be? And if it's too weird I can always just hang up." I called. A woman answered. I sort of started explaining my mission, in that hesitant way that such conversations go, quickly establishing that she was his mother, and almost as quickly that she had not heard from the exwife in years, and did not know where she was. Sorry. So, ever the tenacious (re)searcher I asked if perhaps I could speak with her son, the exhusband, in case he knew where she was. "He is dead," she said, "He died three months ago."

Okay. Okay. That is how bad it can be. And who could just hang up at that point. Bad enough that he was dead, but he was barely dead. Just dead. Newly dead. And here I was, an unknown weirdo on the phone not even looking for him, but asking his mother about his exwife.

"Well," I said to my friend, calling her back to report, "remember we wondered how bad it could be? Bad. Real bad. In fact, it could not be much worse." Needless to say, we discontinued our looking people up activities for a while.

So, email is way easier. And I was so excited to hear from this friend (who had been the subject of several such failed search attempts over the years), that I emailed back right away. And he replied. Along with biographical catch up stuff he mentioned that he had seen this blog, and made a complimentary comment about my pictures. Well, let's just say I don't think mistook my daughter's picture for me, but who knows? Anyway, I then realized those pictures are several years old. They should be updated, I know, but I have to do a bunch of computer stuff or it is a real pain, so I don't do it. And so, time goes by.

At some point it is certain that none of us will look remotely like those pictures. And that seems rather unfair, I think, to those who might happen on the blog. After all, I really do not want to be a living version of what I call the "oh, dear," obituary, the one where you take a look at the picture, think how too bad it is that someone that young died, glance at the obit and see the person was 103! What happened? Did no one take their picture for 60 or 70 years? Did they plan in advance and never update the plan? Whatever, I do not want to be the blog version of that.

For now, though, be assured, I look pretty much the same as in those photos, or at least I think so. Sure, those of you who know me in real life may be saying, enjoy thinking that. Updates in a while, then. A while. But, when does a while become too long a while? Leaving that question unanswered, all I can say is caveat emptor, well, not emptor, exactly. Perhaps caveat searcher, but with less of a caveat by email than by phone. Be glad for that. After all, how bad could it be?
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31 December, 2011

All best wishes for 2012!




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27 December, 2011

I know I need pictures, but...

...if I wait to find a suitable picture, upload it and all it will be months. Months to match the months since I last posted here, and we don't want that, do we now??

In northern VT a top of the postcard Christmas without the sun: snow falling slowly all day, family together, pretty tree, stuffed goose for dinner, many sweet treats, happy dogs. A fine and quiet day.

Merry Christmas, all!


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08 October, 2011

Fall? For real??

Fall? Really ? Y'Sure?


No. I am not so sure. Last night a freeze. I suppose it did happen, since it was predicted and it is pretty cold, but I brought all of the plants that would freeze in. I hope they will be able to return outside in a couple days. Surely it will get warm again. Even if just for a little while.

Actually, not all of the plants came in. It seems that my rose geranium is missing. Yes, that's right missing. It was on the porch and now it is not. I realized this last night while I was bringing in the plants and noticed it was not among them. How weird. Where does a plant go? Who would take a plant? That idea is too much for me to consider a possibility. Strange, though.

This post was originally intended for this blog so I thought I'd copy it here, with the epilogue:

The following day:

Look outside, and see clumps of dirt on the edge of the granite wall. Go outside, with D, and there, lying below the wall is a tipped over clay pot with guess what lying next to it. The rose geranium. It was not plant napped! Even better, it did not freeze. The latter probably because there wasn't a frost. The former because there wasn't a plant napper. Just a plant mover and hider. Time to set up a neighborhood watch? Call the staties to dust for prints?


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03 September, 2011

Daughter's wedding last weekend. Lovely, lovely, and so very happy. Exhaustion this week. I never knew putting an event like that was so  much work, even though there was tons of help from family and friends.
It was so sweet and touching. The whole thing, meeting his lovely family, friends together. The wedding itself, the whole thing. Lovely and beautiful.
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05 May, 2011


Tentative Spring

And so, here it is SPRING! as per the calendar, anyway. The winter came and the snow is gone (pretty sure, of that, but I could be wrong. I always imagine that there is a small patch of snow hiding in the woods somewhere that hangs on, sort of like those persistent leaves, the ones that don't ever fall off of the trees but are parchment colour and dry. They whisper and shimmy in the wind but never fall. I wonder what happens to them when new leaves grow in the spring, but forget to look. Do they stay on? Are they the same ones that remain persistent year after year or are they replaced? These cogitations are what I get for walking dogs, I guess.)

And with spring comes the need for another update I suppose. I'll have to check out the pictures I have and see what can be done.

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