Mom gets sick

It all started last Thursday. The dog got sick. He wouldn't eat or drink. He just laid there. Then I noticed our 3-year old hamster Oreo wasn't moving around a lot. I cleaned her cage and laid her on fresh bedding and covered her with a little washcloth.

Friday Drew got sick. He started spiking a high temp. Saturday we woke up and Oreo was dead. Drew was even sicker. The dog? Still sick. With a temp of 102 a sobbing Drew helped Bob bury Oreo in the back yard.

Sunday Bob got on a plane for California to go to a conference for a week. Drew's temp hit 104 and he got fever blisters all over his mouth.

Monday I got hit with the same flu-like sickness Drew had. The dog got diarrhea. Dylan escaped and went to school. Me and Drew sweated it out.

Tuesday Drew was on the mend. But I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. The dog still had the runs. The vet told me to boil rice and chicken and feed him that. So I was totally sick, and cooking for the dog...and the boys, etc. The freezer was almost empty and I dreaded the grocery store.

Mom's aren't allowed to be sick. So even though I was retching in the bathroom someone would still knock on the door and say "what's for dinner?" Once I just started crying when the boys fought about who was going to take the dog out. Dylan quickly did the job. Drew said, "Wow Mom. That's like your ultimate weapon. Cry and you get what you want." He has no idea.

Most times when Drew took the dog out he'd end up wailing and crying over Oreo, her fresh little hamster grave just too much for him to bear. So I'd take my feverish self into the backyard and bring him and the dog in.

Wednesday Dylan woke up and threw up in the bathroom sink. I stepped in the dogs diarrhea. Drew made me cookies. Meaning he brought over the cookie trays, put them on my lap while I was dozing on the couch and asked me to help him put the break-apart dough bits on them.

My pals bailed me out at crucial moments. Doreen walked the dog TWICE - thank GOD! Mari brought me homemade soup. Drew went back to school Wednesday only to come home after the dance recital just too worn out to make it through the day. Mom gets sick and no one remembers the dance recital.

By Thursday I was no longer holding up under the pressure...and to top it all off it was Mom's birthday. So I spent the day crying and miserable, COMPLETELY sorry for myself and mad that Mom had the nerve to DIE on me and that Bob had the nerve to be away a WHOLE WEEK while I was sick. And whose idea was it to get a DOG?

And that's when the flowers started to arrive...

First this from Dorothy.

My mother's favorite Spring flowers were forsythia - those long yellow flowered sticks at the top. So Dorothy had tracked down a florist that had forsythia and instructed them to keep the branches long - so the florist created the MT. EVEREST of all flower arrangements. I have NEVER seen anything so huge. It's over the top. It's outrageous. It's incredibly funny. It's pure Dorothy and right from the heart. She signed the card from the Pakula Sisters...from she and Mom.


Then this arrived from Bob with a note saying "I hope you feel better. I love you all the way to the moon...and back." Awwww.


Look how puny they are next to the UBER bouquet from Dorothy!







So the end of my story? I went to the doctor Friday. I did the car pool. Then I dropped both kids at the house and went to Mari's. Mari, Deb and I toasted to Annie while I was supposed to be at CVS getting the antibiotics the doctor prescribed. It was the first time I felt normal all week. Mari even had a little birthday cake for Annie. We blew out the candles and sent our wishes up to heaven.

Then Dave the fisherman volunteered to pick up Bob at the airport at 4:50 this morning. So I could sleep. Wow.

I survived. Thank you, thank you all of you.

Leprechaun

Isabelle proves it. There is such a thing as leprechauns.

The High Holiday

Read an Irish poet. Tip a fine pint of Guinness. And, like me, thank your lucky stars you come from Irish blood but you are no longer dirt poor and starving.

The Song of Wandering Aengus
William Butler Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Soda vs. Pop

Click for larger map.

Growing up I always called it pop. Now I've been in Massachusetts so long I've crossed over and call it soda. Bob never crossed over. He's still pop, but our kids are soda.

Look how the dividing line for soda and pop in New York State. Wham! you're in soda territory as soon as you hit Syracuse. Look at all the soda transplants in Miami. Fascinating.

Thanks for the link, Tim!

Oscar Par-tay

Annie used to love Oscar parties. I remember her friends coming over all dressed up. We set up chairs in the living room in rows as if we were actually there. I served hors d'oeuvres to the ladies.

Well my friend Mari threw an Annie-inspired Oscar party complete with yummy hors d'oeuvres and lushly appointed gift bags. Dorothy sent a whole box of fabulous thrift shop dresses.













We looked mahvelous.



Who invited those boys? And why doesn't this Hollywood crowd get that Jon Stewart is really funny?



Charlize has a big-ass bow.



Yeah. We can do that.

Decade

Drew Patrick Welch is TEN YEARS OLD!

Dog in a Hat

I said I would never get a dog.


Then I said I would never dress my dog up in hats.

Maria

Kelly Tederous was one of the first people I met when I moved to Dunkirk, New York to start high school. I never did like it in Dunkirk. But one of the treasures I took with me when I left there, was Kelly's friendship.

Even though I haven't seen her in years, I can still hear her infectious laugh. She's now a teacher living in Ohio and married to Neil Cantrell and they have a lovely daughter, Grace...who is now a big sister.

On January 24th Kelly, Neil and Grace went to Houston to meet a flight from Guatemala. And just like that, Maria del Carmen Rivera Cantrell placed her 8 month old feet onUS soil joining their family forever.

Kelly reports she is growing, laughing, playing, and learning. Kelly always lights up the lives of those around her. We're all blessed. And now sweet Maria is too.