What Do You Do… When Somebody “Gets Your Goat ?”

Serious question here.  When somebody “gets your goat…” what do you do ?  Do you go out and buy another goat, or do you just remain “goat’less ?”

I remember once… quite a while ago, when somebody really got my goat.  I was ticked.  And it wasn’t the first time they had “gotten my goat.”

So I thought… that’s not gonna happen again.  I am NOT gonna have you get MY goat… and then be “goat’less” again.  So, I went out and bought TWO goats… so I’d have a spare for the next time my “goat got gotten.”

Well… ya gotta know what happened.  We split up.  No more of any of that “gettin’ my goat” stuff.  But… since I now had TWO goats… just in case… I thought… “what the heck am I gonna do with this extra goat ?”

And then, wouldn’t ya know it… my two goats got “romantic” on me.  Yeah… they “did it.”  They had a kid.  So then I had THREE goats.  Well, technically, I had two goats… a mom goat and a dad goat… and one kid.  What a deal !

But… I guess it’s just all a part of living in this frustrating world… and having my goat get gotten… one too many times.  Arrrggghhh !


Here’s Lookin’ at You, Kid !

Ahh… Miss  Mollie T is at it again.  My wonderful guard cat… simply worn out from working the entire night… keeping all the elephants away from our cozy home.

I am not sure if she is just close to dozing off to sleep, here, or if she is all drowsy from barely starting her waking-up process.

There is, of course, another possibility.  Mollie T wants me to “think” she is sleeping, but she is actually “watching” me.  You see… just before she went off to kitty-cat dream land… she came over to me to have a little “kitty cat chat.”

It seems that I had done the unforgivable… or at least close to it.  Miss Mollie T, of course, lives the life of luxury.  Those of you who are “in the know” are aware that just as dogs have owners, cats… have “staff.”

I am Mollie’s “staff.”  So what did I do that was so “un-staff-like ?”  I allowed the bottom of her food dish… to become “visible.”  Ya see… it’s not enough to simply have food to eat.  Mollie’s food… must be of sufficient quantity that not even one little square centimeter of the bottom of the bowl is visible.

So… she is watching… ever so vigilant, and ever so sneaky about it… to see if I will eventually get my poor old body up… waddle over to the bag of kitty food under the sink… and transfer sufficient quantities of food back into her dish… to cover that itty, bitty square centimeter of the bottom of the bowl that is visible.

Oh… the life poor Miss Mollie T is forced to live.

Let There Be Peace On Earth

I don’t know why certain songs are played, sung or celebrated only at certain times during the year.  Often-times the prettiest of these are saved for the “holidays.” 

For me, that usually means Christmas, sometimes Thanksgiving, and maybe even New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day.  Why many of these songs are hidden in these particular time-spots can appear to be rather logical.  After all… many of them ARE “holiday” songs.

But there are others of these songs… these celebratory or plaintive songs… that can be, may be, or even should be sung all the year through.  

If only what is requested, hoped for, or even prayed for by the above song… Let There Be Peace On Earth… could be seen by more than myself… as something to be celebrated all year ’round… how truly wonderful that would be.

Sink or Swim… With Mollie T

There are so many times… in daily life, in real estate… or in other areas of our lives… that the time comes when we finally just have to grab the old “bull by the horns.”

Let’s see.  What else can we call it ? Do the right thing ?  Take command ?  Shove it out on the lake and see if it floats ?  Run it up the flag pole and see if anyone salutes ?

Well… when I got home from Kroger today… buying cat food and other necessities… there she was.  Miss Mollie T.

Mollie told me how she had spent the morning, and the first half of the afternoon (between naps, of course) watching the cable news shows.  She watched CNN.  She watched MSNBC.  She watched Headline News.  She even watched Fox News.  (Bad Kitty, Bad Kitty !)

All they had, she complained, was news and pictures of the horrible Gulf Oil spill. The stories were all about how BP, the government, President Obama, and various citizens groups and environmentalist groups… all flailing around… did not quite know what to do next.

Well… Mollie T Cat wants an answer. And Mollie wants it now !

Mollie T says it is time to… as she puts it… only using “initials” rather than words… cuz she’s such a “proper” little girl… Mollie T says it is time to SOGOTP.

In other words… Mollie T says it’ time to “Sink or Swim !”

June 6… and Memories of My Dad

It’s funny how things happen.  And when.

For much of last night, and much of this morning, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about my Dad.

I found myself on YOU TUBE… listening to some of the songs that were popular in the 1940’s… when my Dad was in his early 20’s and my mom was two years younger than that.

There were so many songs there… songs that surrounded Dad and Mom… way  back then.

I was mostly listening to songs from WW2.  My Dad was “over there” when I was born early in 1944. I have a letter that my Mom send my Dad… showing him a picture of her holding lil ol’ me… newly born.

The songs were almost all sung by Vera Lynn. Some of them were… “You’ll Never Know” (Vera Lynn, 1943), “When the Lights Go On Again” by Vera Lynn .

They were followed by Ms Lynn… who became Dame Vera Lynn… singing After The Rain, and We’ll Meet Again , and the incredible When I Grow too Old to Dream .  The list goes on and on and on.  You get the picture.

And then I found an interview with Dame Vera. Dame Vera Lynn on GMTV .  It was just simply amazing.  You Tube… in many, many ways… almost makes the past “live again.”

All songs celebrated “the troops”… with the fervent hope and intent that they would someday return.

It’s quite ironic… how the older I get, the more my Dad and his memory mean to me… and the more I realize just how much he went through… to finally come home to me and my Mom… as we waited in Cleveland.

Mom… It’s Mother’s Day, and I Miss You…

I am sitting here trying to think of something cute to write for a Mother’s Day post… and the imaginative juices are just not flowing.

All I can think of is how much I miss my Mom. Marian is my Mom, and she passed away in 1987.  I miss her.  Some of what I have been doing today is getting on You Tube and listening to some of the songs that she and my Dad listened to in the days around the time I was born… which would be in the early and mid 1940’s.

It was the Big Band Era… the times of Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Frank Sinatra (my Mom just loved him).  Here is one of Mom’s favorite Sinatra tunes… I’ll Never Smile Again with the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra.  You just cannot get more mellow than this.  I can close my eyes and pretty much see Mom ready to faint… she loved “Frankie” that much.

Mom was also a fan of Arthur Godfrey.  Here is one of the clips I watched of his… earlier today.  Arthur Godfrey Time TV 1948 TELEVISION .  I can remember watching “her boy” Arthur on daytime television… waaayyyy back when.

Glenn Miller was such a major talent.  Mom just loved dancing to his records… when she could talk my Dad into it. I can just imagine Mom and Dad jitterbugging to Tex Beneke and the Glenn Miller Orch – In The Mood .  How I remember the smile on Mom’s face… just ear to ear.

My mom was part Irish… and just loved Bing Crosby… especially when that old “Crooner” belted out some of the old Irish songs.  Here is one of her favorites.  Bing Crosby: Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ra (Thats An Irish Lullaby) .  I can actually see in my mind’s eye Mom listening to “der Bingle” as they used to call him.  Memories…

When I was born… in 1944 (I am 66 now)… my Dad was over in Italy fighting in WWII.  The Andrews Sisters were all over the radio at that time… and this song was popular then.  Andrews Sisters – Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree .  To Mom and Dad… that song was very much to them what “Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round that Old Oak Tree” was to those of a later generation or two.  How they must have missed each other.

My Dad was a big Peggy Lee fan… and I can remember my Mom listening to Peggy Lee singing this… one of his favorite songs… while he was over in Italy.  Peggy Lee: Fever! .  How they liked their music… especially my Mom.

Mom… if you’ve got a computer “up there”… here are some links you can click on to listen to the “old songs.” But, then again, if you are “up there”… which I am sure you are… you can probably ask Glenn, Tommy, Jimmy, Peggy and the Andrews Sisters to sing them for you in person.

Mom… I miss you.  I just wanted you to know that it’s Mother’s Day down here… and that I was thinking about you, and missing you terribly.

Because Her Dad Raised Her Right…

I hadn’t seen Erika for over seventeen years.  It’s been that long since I left Cleveland… since I “left home.”

I had been planning a trip back to Cleveland… to home… for several years.  You know how it is.  Something always comes up… and somehow, something always does.

Not that it should… but I guess that if the timing would have been right… I would have gone home sooner.

It was a Sunday afternoon when we agreed to meet.  Around two o’clock at some silly-named restaurant/sports bar that had the word “Lizard” in its name.

Anyway… I was driving… on my way to meet Erika… when my cell phone rang.  It was ten minutes before two… and I was almost there.

It was Erika. She was there already.  She sounded excited.  Just the sound and the feel of her voice as it rested on my ears was more than music to me.  It felt… like “home.”

Up until 1993… I had always been the one everyone depended on.  The one they often came to when the dark clouds came.  They looked up to me.  Then… in 1993… I left Cleveland.  I needed to. Medical reasons… job reasons… and things having to do with my marriage.  Nothing anyone ever does… is done with a one hundred percent sureness.  Nothing is ever one hundred percent black… or white.  In this case… that was true, as well.

I had not seen Erika in person for years… but we’ve chatted more than a few times, and exchanged emails more times than that.  During one of those chats… I shared with Erika how the rest of my family had more than a bit of trouble with me… both my leaving Cleveland, and with the “eclectic” way my personality expressed itself.

I was really curious why none of that which “made me different” bothered Erika… so, one time while we were chatting… I asked her.  She paused… and then said… “Aunt Karen… my Dad raised me right.  I love you just the way you are.”

Bless her heart !