I’ve been really into beets lately, specifically, roasted beet salad (I’m eating some right now) and it got me to thinking back to when I was 14 or 15 when I’d read in a magazine that cutting a beet open and rubbing the juice on your lips would stain them perfectly.
My grandfather had a garden and one day sent home a small bunch of beets for me…for my lips.
And it worked! I was so excited slicing into that first beet. I mean, it didn’t look Revlon lips, but hey man, I can’t complain too much.
That is all. I just wanted you to know how I feel about beets. ❤
When my grandmother died of cancer, she had tons of quilting and sewing material leftover. My mom took it upon herself to use the remaining materials and make Christmas decorations for her siblings and the grandchildren. They mean the world to me, not only because they were my grandmother’s materials, but also because my mom made them out of love (and loss). And I display them with love every year.
Tell me a story about your favorite ornament and the sentiment (if any) behind it.
~Peace (on Earth)
A very long time ago, at least 20 years, I cut my hair off because my best friend dared me to. That was the last time I had a major hair cut. I’ve been blond, I’ve had bangs, I’ve gone straight, but other than that, I’ve had little more than a trim.
I have naturally curly hair that often seems like a cross between Chewbacca and Kenny G., and the idea of cutting it off was terrifying. Mostly because it’s so hard to style. I have had hair envy for short (and long) ‘dos for a long time, but just never had the guts to go for it……
(Jules and Andy – Here’s your pic!)
I’m loving it! I am so happy with my decision to chop it off! I grinned all the way home that night. It feels so much healthier and it’s full of body and bounce! My hair was damaged from straightening and blow-drying for so long. I made the right decision.
And if cutting my hair off wasn’t enough to make me feel fantastic, the other night, Honey Boo Boo and I were at a grocery store. I came to the end of his lane to wait for him. When he was done, his cashier closed her register and was coming out of her cubby when saw me. She stopped dead in her tracks…I thought she was going to ask me if I was looking for something because she just glared at me and didn’t move. When she finally spoke she said “you are so beautiful”. I just looked at her and half laughed. She said “I’m serious. You are beautiful and you have the most gorgeous eyes and smile.”
Um…wow. That was completely unexpected. Thank you
grocery lady new best friend. That just added glory to how I have already been feeling. ❤
Winston died 4 weeks ago today. This morning, actually. And although I am still in full devastation mode, the days have been seemingly a teensy bit better. I can’t imagine I’ll ever get over this loss, but I’m managing.
The morning he died, we had a delivery to my office and one of the delivery men was my friend’s “little” brother. I say that but I suppose once you hit a certain age, you stop referring to people as little anything. I was surprised to see him because he is not our usual delivery person. But there were two of them so he might have been in training that morning.
My office door had been closed most of that day because I was bawling the entire day and just honestly didn’t feel like talking to anyone. But for some reason, my door was open when these guys came in. I think maybe someone had been in back with me checking on me. Little Brother and the other delivery guy popped around the corner to make their way downstairs and spotted me in my office….crying. I said hello, as one does, and they both stopped with sheer concern on their respective faces and asked if I was okay. My coworker announced the news that my Winston had just died that morning. They both expressed condolences, and Little Brother came right in and gave me a big hug. He started exclaiming to his colleague that “Sandy is the love of my life. I have loved her since I was 10 years old!”
Apparently, I was Little Brother’s big crush. I had no idea. His sister and I were such good friend in high school and the years that followed and spent a lot of time at each other’s houses. How did I not know this? Maybe it’s because he was Little Brother. Just a cute little blond teddy bear that always says hi and hugs me through the years when we see each other. I never thought twice about it….
But would you look at that? I was someone else’s Jordan Catalano.
I’ve been having a really rough few months. My cat got sick in late July and stopped eating altogether at the start of August. I spent a lot of time and money at the vet trying to find out what was wrong with him but to no avail. (At least not with that vet clinic!) I spent the rest of the summer whipping him up tuna smoothies and feeding him via syringe. It was comparable to having a newborn….I was up all hours of the night. If he wanted to eat at 3am, I was up feeding him, any time he got up or stirred, I was awake too, checking on him. Waiting while he used his litter box, bringing him back to bed so he was close by, petting him, and listening to him purr.
Even though he had three different veterinarians check him (and a dozen visits), I finally had enough and took him to a new clinic and vet. Turns out, my poor boy had a cancerous mass on his kidney and my time left with him was limited.
I can’t get too much further into it because I am still grieving – heavily. But, Winston moved on to Kitty Heaven almost two weeks ago. My heart has been broken. My sweet boy had been by my side for 12 and a half years and I am still getting used to him not being here. I would give anything to be able to pick him up and cuddle him and listen to him purr like a little motor. I’d go another summer of sleepless nights to have him flip his water dish over or claw me in the middle of the night or scamper underneath my feet, making me fall.
But he’s not here. And I haven’t cried yet today but I can feel the lump forming in my throat and the tears are glossing over in my eyes, so I have to stop talking/writing/thinking about him for a little bit and gather my emotions.
And yes. I’m grieving for my cat. He was more than a cat. He was a companion and a friend and a guardian. He was my boy. I will be grieving for him for a long time.
So there it is. That’s how my life has been going the last three and a half months. Worry and fear and stress and sadness and anxiety. And sleepless nights. But I would do it all again for him. For just a few moments more with him.
Now here I am. At a loss for inspiration and with this dull, constant ache inside me. Thankful for the distractions of work and friends and whatever else happens to pop into my life these days. Last week is was Halloween. And now we’re moving onto Christmas. And here I am on a Monday evening in early November writing an ode or memoir to my Winston with a Hallmark Christmas movie and Candace Cameron Bure as background noise while I type and search for inspiration for upcoming posts.
If you have any suggestions, I am open to them. At least for a bit. I need the distractions because when I am alone with my thoughts I am bombarded with sadness and then I just can’t delay the tears. And once that flood gate is open…oh my. It just won’t stop.
So please, if you have any ideas for me – so I can have something to write about and not dwell on the death and now the absence of my longtime companion, please let me a note below.
In the meantime, I’m doing my best. I’m hanging in there. I haven’t been able to bring myself to put anything on his corner of the bed, but one day that day might come. In the meantime, I’ll be here.
I was sick a lot when I was little. I was in and out of the hospital – usually with pneumonia – and I missed out on a lot of things.
I remember one year I was supposed to go outdoors ice skating with my Brownies group. But I was sick again and not able to go.
I am pretty sure I whined about that excursion quite a bit because one weekend, right around Christmas, my dad packed me up and took me to a pond (just off the highway connector) so that I could skate. It wasn’t as much fun as being with a bunch of my Brownie friends, and we weren’t out for long, but I remember it well. I slid and slided and skated over that ice like I was a ballerina – even in my snowsuit (Nova Scotia winters are cold y’all) – the shine from the sun my spotlight. And then it was time to go.
And every time I pass that pond, usually with ducks sitting in it or cows grazing around it, I think of my skating excursion.