Dwindling days

My days of bachelorette freedom are dwindling.  The bathroom is not finished, and I am facing a moratorium of one week during which the dog grooves will be sanded from my front hall and steps, a process too loud and too dusty to take place when hubby is in residence, or more importantly, when he is podcasting.  And so I continue to be barred from my closet, a status that has not favored my general appearance.  I wheeled a rack of clothing into Pat's room, but in truth, I think I have worn 10 items over and over. In truth- there have been days when I stayed in a T shirt and pajama pants.  I need a makeover if I want to stay married! Now I will get even more austere as I select a few items to accompany my new restriction- I will be staying downstairs on the couch until the stairs are done.  So add crabby to the ugly.  And pray that the dogs can be contained with gates and bungee cords to the back of the house.  I do not need footprints in my new varnish.

This weekend is a landmark event for me- I will get my second grand dog.  Mike and Kathryn have decided to add a mini goldendoodle to their household.  A decade ago, I begged Steve for a labradoodle.  I hung a gallery of moppets all over the kitchen.  He refused.  He said he would never have a dog with doodle in its name.  Mike has no such compunctions, and he has even moved from a moderate sized dog to a mini.  This dog will have a poodle dad and a poodle-golden mom.  It is called a back cross, and they will name her Bea.  Kathryn has fierce dog allergies, and I pray that this mish mosh dog does not make her zyrtec dependent forever and a day.

  Beatrice, the mini-goldendoodle, on the left.
Bea is on the left
I know it will make Mike nuts.  He is my most buttoned down kid- he plans ahead with great detail, even pulling out clothes the night before.  In preparation for this blessed event, he has researched dog food ad nauseam, screeching at me for using grocery brands.  He has read Cesar's whisper book, planned for every detail of training, and given me instructions as to my comportment when I meet Bea.  I am not to excite her, or show too much love.  She needs to earn her love, I guess.  The boys should be glad I did not use that methodology on them.  Praise God, Kathryn is spontaneous and flexible.  She will not let little Bea go to doggy boot camp.  Mike expects the toilet training to be a snap, and his optimism is endearing.  I wanted him to use a toilet at 2 but he refused until he was 3.  I dealt with diminished expectations.  I hope he can! Puppies are to love in spite of their accidents and their demands.  That's why they are cute.  I guess Bea will be receiving visitors this weekend; Milly is invited, but not Mabel.  That's for the best.  In her prime, Mabel tore my rotator cuff and mauled Walter and Milly.  Not Miss Congeniality.  Now she is old and lame and chubby.  Like me.  This gives me far more affection for her.  It is a little late in her game for this.
This Saturday I will be attending a memorial Mass for my friend and physical therapist, Gus.  I still cannot believe that less than a year ago he helped me recover, and then flew off like a comet, to whatever is next.  His wife and kids are in a free fall, I imagine.  I pray that they are comforted by this reconnection of his circle.  It will be a hard, sad day- but I think we need to offer whatever sturdy support we can think of.  I am a stranger, but my busy-body persona makes me want to fix things.  Sometimes things cannot be fixed, but you can build a little bridge.  I want to try. Besides, God digs it when I show up at his house.
Steve is currently in the company of our nephew, Colin (The Flint Skinny) and Matthew.  I think Steve felt bad that Colin was a bachelor in Geritol teritory, and he urged Matt to come down and hang with his cuz.  I think Steve was a little lonesome for his family; he said they are having a series of nice moments. 
  He went solo to the condo's St. Paddy's extravaganza, hosted by my Aunt Carol O'Donnell Greene.  He could not convince Colin to be his wing man, and Matt had not arrived.  Should I be concerned that he bought a new outfit off the rack for this affair- not even at a big man's store?  Probably.  He is charming the Golden Girls.  

Leave a comment