Category Archives: children

Thankful for Thanksgiving Pets

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A photo of my daughter’s pug who was used in social media marketing for her college swim team. The swimmers on the sports marketing team posed Waffles around the pool wearing goggles, on the blocks and lifeguard stand.

As I think about Thanksgiving, it dawned on me that our last two pets, Olive and Waffles, were adopted Thanksgiving weekend. What a joy they’ve brought to our family.

My son left for college in 2011 and my daughter and I visited the animal shelter in Palm Springs looking at kittens. It was right before Thanksgiving that Olive came home with us. Because my son is allergic to cats we waited until he moved away to college to adopt Olive. We kept Olive hidden in our daughter’s bedroom for the four-day weekend and didn’t think my son would have any reaction from his room down the hall.

Olive’s baby picture taken around Thanksgiving.

Everything went smoothly. I cooked dinner for my kids, husband and dad. I remember a wonderful weekend spending time with family walking downtown and playing in the park.

Then my son called to let me know he was back at school safely. While we talked on the phone, the kitty snuck out the door into the backyard.

“Quick, get the kitty!” I yelled to my daughter.

“WHAT?!” my son said. “I knew it! I knew there was a cat in the house. I had allergies all weekend.”

Today, he can visit our home in Arizona with Olive inside, and doesn’t seem to suffer. I’ve installed an air filter in the casita and the new house doesn’t have the same issues as our 1930s Palm Springs house did for allergies like mold and a grassy back yard.

Then came Waffles. It was my husband’s idea to adopt Waffles as a companion dog for our daughter. She came home from college for Thanksgiving weekend, along with our son, and met Waffles for the first time.

My kids and Waffles

I cooked for our family, my college roommate, who was visiting from Seattle with her mom and brother. Plus a former coworker of mine — and dad of course. Waffles was a hit with everyone — except Olive. I remember my college roommate’s brother thanking me over and over for a home-cooked Thanksgiving. They had planned to eat in their hotel restaurant.

Waffles was beyond cute and so tiny!

Pretty kitty Olive as a grown up.

Waffles as a middle-aged man, snaggle teeth and gray hairs.

Have a happy Thanksgiving with family, friends and your furry friends.

What is it about Thanksgiving and adopting our pets? I’m thinking our prior two, Sherman and Angus joined us in the fall as well.

Speaking of crime…

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The entrance to our old home. Our homeless man, who believed he bought our house, slept on the steps.

The back yard, which had our front door, once you walked through the gate above.

Sometimes I miss my old home. We lived there for 28 years. I had my babies there and raised them until they went off to college. I never thought I’d leave. But then COVID hit and my husband worked remotely from the Master bedroom. I worked remotely from our son’s bedroom.

Prices were going crazy high because people were fleeing the big cities of San Francisco and Los Angeles. Our town offered more space and much lower prices compared to the city life. My husband believed it was time to make our move to Arizona.

When I feel like I miss the old homestead, I read my emails. Every morning I get a “Personalized Spot Crime” report for my old neighborhood.

It’s gotten so much worse since we moved three years ago in December.

Here are a couple examples from my inbox:

In the 28 years we lived there, we had very little crime. My bicycle was stolen from the carport, which didn’t lock at the time. We had a homeless man who slept on the steps of the archway.

Oh, we had someone break into the home from the hospital mental ward a few blocks away wearing his “robe” with a bare behind. My daughter was the one who ran into him in the kitchen. She was in third grade and named him Hobo Joe. My husband threw him out of the house and called the police. They caught him trying to enter the house across the street.

But through 28 years, those were off events. Nothing like the crime I see reported on a daily basis now.

The crime I see in my new neighborhood amount to javelinas destroying golf courses.

Once, after flying home from Seattle visiting family, I had to take a Lyft home. My husband had COVID. Anyway, the Lyft driver told me he was once a deputy sheriff in my neck of the woods. He said the number one crime was speeding. I sure hope it stays that way! It makes me appreciate my new home and where I live.

I had crime on my mind after a run in with the Mexican police on our recent getaway. If you missed it, I wrote about it HERE.

Is there crime in your neighborhood? Do you feel it’s gotten worse or better through the years?

Trying to escape Funkytown

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My daughter’s pug Waffles as an energetic pup.

I was so looking forward to my kids’ visit. Now that they are gone, I’m in a bit of a funk. I figured it out when I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to leave the house for my morning walks. I can tell my husband is a little worried about me.

Unfortunately when my two adult kids, new bride and her brother were here, things didn’t go exactly as planned. We had a heat wave and since they all live in the Bay Area, the heat doesn’t agree with them. Then the AC went out their last night in the casita and DIL got very sick.

And I got scared!

She vomited for hours. They finally decided to pack up and leave. Once she was in the AC of the car, she felt much better. I worried about her health unlike anything I’ve felt before. I realized how vulnerable she is. How vulnerable we all are.

I’m trying to leave Funkytown. We’re headed on a weekend getaway to Mexico, which is a four-hour drive away. The beach always makes me feel better. In the meantime, I have a community newsletter to complete and will keep moving.

What’s your secret for getting out of a funk?

When were you picked?

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Me and my brother, back in the day.

There was an article in the Lifestyle section of the Wall Street Journal that captured my interest. It was written by Rich Cohen and called:

We Never Really Escape the Gym-Class Draft

Does the childhood fear of being picked last explain our insecurities later in life?

For some reason, I was always picked last or second to last in PE — whether it was Red Rover, dodgeball, volleyball or anything. How depressing is that? I am somewhat athletic. I started skiing at age two. I could swim. I took ballet. Yet, my school chums saw me as someone they didn’t want on their team. I think it was my thick glasses. I was terribly near-sighted from birth.

From the article:

It’s the sort of alienation you experience in junior high school but feel forever. Being just another number among a pool of available picks, you see yourself, maybe for the first time, through the cold eyes of an appraiser. You are no more than a body in the mind of this person, an object with too many deficiencies to catalog: chubby, knock-kneed, weak-armed, timid, poorly coordinated, scared of the ball, slow.

You will also feel yourself, for the first time, trapped in a body, isolated from even your closest friends, of whom you might think: Oh, dear lord, as bad as it gets, as long as it takes, let me be taken before him.

What’s worse, you know that you’re being judged on all the wrong qualities, in all the wrong ways. Yeah, I’m slow, you think as round three gives way to round four. I can’t throw very hard, and I don’t move too quick. But there’s one thing I know how to do well: kick ass at dodgeball.

Apparently, this picking by your peers is no longer allowed. Of course most things that make kids uncomfortable is no longer allowed.

When were you picked? Do you think they should still allowing choosing teams by peers? Why or why not?

Views from quarantine

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With the kids on their way to visit, my husband and I kept our promise to quarantine. The days at home gave me new appreciation for life in our backyard. (I wrote about the need to quarantine HERE.)

“Hey, it’s not that bad!” were my famous words I’d tell my swim coach after a hard set. We emblazoned the saying on t-shirts after the coach joked that he should advertise his Masters with my expression. (I wrote about not giving up — whether it’s swimming, fishing or writing HERE — complete with t-shirt pics.)

I discovered staying home “is not that bad” — and I that I love and appreciate my backyard.

The following are views that make me enjoy living where I do:

I watched three Harris Hawks land in a tree across the wall. They love to hang out there. Then one by one, they flew into our yard. I lost sight as they flew over our roof.

Here’s a video of one flying I captured in slow motion:

Look at the sparkle in our pool.
Here’s a young cardinal visiting my Bird Buddy until a Gila Woodpecker takes over.
I was standing outside and these quails didn’t seem to care that I was nearby.

I can’t wait to see my son, daughter-in-law, her brother and my daughter!

What are your favorite things or views from your home?

Quarantine-ing

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Our outdoor fireplace.

Sunday, I was getting the house ready for guests. As I was cleaning out my paperwork and assorted crap I squirreled away in drawers and cupboards in the Casita, I thought about what fun things we could do with our guests without leaving home.

Our guests asked us to quarantine starting today before their arrival. Would you quarantine for upcoming guests?

You would if it was our guests — my son and his bride. Also, our daughter and Buff’s brother, to help with the drive (who are in the quarantine pod.) They will be here between chemo infusions, if they get the okay from her doctor after a blood test to determine her immunity level.

In case you missed the story of their wedding and cancer diagnosis, you can read it HERE.

I looked outside and glanced at the fireplace. Now that the weather is a bit cooler at night, I envisioned us sitting around the fireplace. Then my mind raced to marshmallows and s’mores!

Whatever happened to the telescopic marshmallow roasting sticks we bought 20 years ago? Did they make the move from California to Arizona?

The last time I remembered seeing them was in photos camping at Carpinteria State Beach when the kids were young. AND on our RV.

I had a light-blue, rectangular plastic storage box with camping kitchen necessities, including matches, that I pictured in my mind. That’s where they were. I’d bet on it. That box made it from tent days to RV days, to somewhere in our garage, unless it got thrown out when we moved.

If you want to read about our lack of RV skills, please read my story about our mishaps HERE. We were NOT happy campers.

In the garage I found a cardboard bankers box that said RV on the side. I unpacked it and found plastic plates, bowls and glasses that will be perfect poolside in our backyard. Next, I found the plastic storage box with more goodies like the matches, spices, knives, a can and wine opener and our red-and-white checked tablecloth.

No marshmallow roasters.

Before I turned to Amazon for help, I got the brilliant idea to look in my kitchen drawers. Voila! I have two out of the four. I must have given my kids the other two because they both loved camping during college and the shut down.

I found two out of four marshmallow roasters I bought 20 years ago. We will be s’more ready and can enjoy evenings in the backyard, without leaving the house.

What are your thoughts about camping? Are you a tent person or an RVer and why?

Do you think my quest for 20-year-marshmallow roasters is quest for memories past and easier times?

The Wedding

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After ten years of being with the love of his life, our son made the big step called commitment.

The risk of losing Buff was right before his eyes. She was diagnosed with colon cancer and was facing surgery. They decided to get married before surgery.

We were on vacation in Santa Barbara. They had originally taken time off work to spend a week with us.

The wedding was scheduled in Berkeley at the courthouse. No way were we going to miss it. We booked flights from Santa Barbara to Oakland. The day before their wedding we got one of many calls.

“We both tested positive for COVID,” our son said.

Surgery was scheduled 10 days out, so thankfully Buff’s surgery wasn’t delayed. In the meantime, our son ended up in ER with COVID.

Surgery turned out much better than we anticipated. Big sigh of relief. I wrote about those days HERE and HERE. They said the longer the surgery took, the better the outcome. I was literally praying hour by hour. It was more than six hours, which was the best outcome possible.

Post surgery, they waited one week for pathology reports. We were sure everything was fine because surgery went so well.

My son called us — trying not to break down — that pathology was not good. Stage 3 C, which is a step up or down from Stage 4 (depending on how you look at it.) She has a 40% chance of being cured. Don’t want to talk about the 60%.

They had a window between surgery and chemo to get married. They kept the wedding small outside the Mendocino County Courthouse with their “pod.” We stayed home and I was weepy during their marriage. The next day I was filled with love and hope for them.

They got married with some of Buff’s family, our daughter and a few of their closest friends.

California-style, they had their wedding dinner outside at In-N-Out.

They spent their wedding night in Medocino County in a gorgeous VRBO on a river.

Here’s one more photo of love: