Day: July 28, 2022

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Skitter Chilled Out Bigly

A few months ago, I posted about reconnecting with one of my college pals from way back in the 80’s. Since then, I’ve visited Jane a few times and, so far, we still seem to have plenty to talk about. We seem to be able to make each other think, and we still make each other laugh. Earlier this week, I took Skitter with me to Jane’s for one of our gabfests. Skitter wore her lemons Tie o’ the Day for the occasion.

Now, you know Skitter is afraid of every new person and every new place and every new thing. She shivers and vibrates in fear of each new noun she encounters: she’s skittish. I know Jane has two cats, and I wasn’t sure Skitter could handle being around the critters, so I anticipated I might have to leave her in the car with AC running while I socialized. I thought of all the possible Skitter-skeered outcomes, so I was prepared to improvise. When we arrived, I laid out one of Skitter’s blankets on the floor by the chair I was sitting in, so she would know where her place was in this environment which was foreign to her. However, Skitter was not having any part of staying on her blanket on the floor.

Skitter didn’t vibrate, pulsate, oscillate, or tintinnabulate. Skitter simply and nonchalantly jumped up on the couch, cuddled up to Jane, and stayed by her side the entire visit. Since then, my lower dentures have almost fallen out of my mouth on multiple occasions whenever I contemplate the whole affair—because my jaw is still dropping in amazement about Skitter’s chill behavior at Jane’s. Skitter has never acted comfortable anywhere but in our house, and sometimes she barely acts comfortable here. Skitter jumping up on Jane’s couch and making herself at home was Skitter maturing before my very eyes. I was both shocked and impressed by Skitter’s poise and determination. In fact, the Skit acted as if Jane was her old friend, not mine, and I was the newcomer to the group. It was an unbelievable hours-long event, and Suzanne still doesn’t believe it really happened. Skitter is clearly living proof that old dogs can, in fact, learn new tricks. It was fortunate that Jane was just fine with the mutt-glued-to-her-hip situation Skitter put her in.

FYI The cats ended up not being a factor in Skitter’s adventure during our visit. They stayed away from where we were conversating, for the most part. Skitter saw one of the cats a few times, but she paid it no mind. Maybe they’ll try to interact during a future play-date.

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The Dame

I often mention that I have had a lifelong love affair with words. They fascinate me. One-syllable words have no less charm than lengthier five-syllable words. They all matter. As I began to compose this post, the word “delightful” came to mind. It’s not a word I regularly use, although nothing is wrong with it. I simply don’t inhabit the world of feelings I would describe as “delightful.” But I can only describe yesterday as utterly delightful. Suzanne and Skitter and I trekked to Delta to spend some time with Big Helen, who seems to have shrunk just a bit more each time I hug her.

I wore my new honeycomb golf shirt, and Mom recognized what it was immediately. Dad was the beekeeper in the family, but Mom lived the bee life right beside him every step of the way. She knew a full comb of honey was not only delicious, but it bought school clothes and made car payments. We wished Mom a happy 74th Anniversary, and she wondered why Dad had to leave her. I reminded her he’s waiting, probably impatiently, for her to meet up with him when she decides she’s ready.

Mom wore her royal purple housecoat, and kept showing us how her ring matched it. She was so surprised at the fact that she matched. She knows it’s a rare thing. She and I share a penchant for mismatching in ways that make sense only to us. To match is nothing short of a miraculous oversight. For me, matching is also somewhat painful to my sensibilities. Mom can blithely relish it when it happens. I mentioned to Mom how the royal appearance of her purple housecoat and purple ring stone would surely capture the attention of every person who sees them, she said, “Well, I’ll just start to bow to them all.” And then she thought a minute, and said, “No. I’ll make the people bow to me.” That’s my mother, in a nutshell.

I took the pictures of Mom’s hands because her hands are amazing. Think about how many pints of peaches and pears those hands have bottled. I can’t begin to count the quilts her hands made over the decades. Potato salads, batches of toffee, pans of candied popcorn. And batches of cookies as far as the mind’s taste buds can remember. As I examined her hands yesterday, Mom said they looked “curdled.” It was an elegant and poetic description. Mom has a gift for language too.

As we escorted Mom to lunch, Terry—one of Mom’s fave nurses—passed us in the hall. We chatted briefly. And suddenly, Terry started dancing, and then she got Mom dancing along. I can’t explain how it happened, but it did. Terry then went on her way, and Suzanne and Skitter and I continued walking Mom to her lunch table. As we left Mom, I couldn’t get her happy dancing out of my mind. Mom not only dances at Millard Care and Rehab, but she never dances alone.

BTW I wore my Wonder Woman socks to visit Mom, my own personal Wonder Woman. The Minions Bow Tie o’ the Day is a trip.