Like the soft steady wake up purr from vibrating whiskers on cheek, the cat is close. Or is that a motorboat on a lake.

The staccato accelerating roar of the crowd at the football stadium I never go, even in my nightmares. Turn it off. But in memory it gets turned up loud but I still can’t understand what they’re yelling about. Something about a wizard.

Memory amplified and out rolls the whole story. Following a day in the life, one full day like any other to take for granted. Alive with Andrea. Our best days were the uninterrupted, turn down the stadium noise, what-do-you-want-to-do, days. Get up, it’s warm and bright here. Kumkuats on the tree. Take your pick. Andrea driving her brown sports car, the brand most people would go, oooh, cool, but I can’t remember then and sure don’t now. Tamales from that place that catered her first wedding to her stolid mexican Joe, before we met right after we both had gay boyfriends. What’s That about?  Real there in my dream, no stadium roar. I think of a huge dish, and find one tamale in a napkin on my lap.

It’s just how memories are.

Gnarls Barkley, \”Who\’s Gonna Save My Soul Now\”

Tweet This Post

In my never ending search for food GoGo will eat, I defrosted a bag of bear organs my friend Nathan gave me. He shot the bear. I forget – have repressed, the details, but I do remember he ‘had’ to. It was not for sport or food. But since it was dead, he saved and used every part of it. He knows I feed my animals real food, so he packed away the liver, the heart, and a few other things I don’t recognize.

Greasy. Greasy raw, greasier cooked. First I put it all through the meat grinder, tears in my eyes. Oh awful, the sound, the splatter, the bloated dark spaghetti tendrils oozing their way out of the grid.

Gooshed onto a big pan and into the oven. How long do you cook bear organs? Who knows. I baked them at 350 for 1/2 hr. They came out perfectly done. Like a slimy greasy oozy meatloaf. I haven’t seen “Julie and Julia” yet. Is this how Julia got started?

The dogs and cats love it. Sacred beast for my sacred beasts. Puts hair on their chests.

Eat Up

Tweet This Post

of poodles and discussion about what to feed GoGo, who eats less and less. She is disappearing, and I am so frightened to lose her. My friend Joanne suggested I boil down the bones of the turkey I baked for GoGo until it became gel. We did, and Joe ground up the bones and put them back into the pot, for more calcium. After 2 days of simmering it down to gel, GoGo won’t eat it. Ah well.

GoGo has never liked to eat, and now getting older and older, less and less.  She has liver disease. She is surviving on hard boiled eggs, bread, vitamins, liver and a myriad of other things I tempt her with daily.  Liverwurst to lamb lungs, dog brownies to canned food, seared venison, baked Alaska..

She is our miracle girl at 13-1/2, to just keep Go-going with a liver that looks like she drinks a pint of scotch every day. Keep on my little brown angel.

Oh yea – the phone doodles.

my darling girl

Tweet This Post

Joe doing a puzzle in the background with Andy on the couch. LaRoo and GoGo opening presents

I usually take my holidays on non holiday time, so’s not to travel this time of year. Instead, I hang out at home, working away. Which I love- so that’s fine. But, so, here I am waitin’ around. Waiting, drumming my cold fingers, tapping my toes, bouncing a crossed leg; just, you know, waiting for people to get back to their desks so they can answer some very pressing, to me that is, color questions on the snow book I’m working on. I figure I have at least another week of waiting, so I thought I’d post these sweet but poor quality photos of our brief celebration this year.

I do love New Years Eve though. I love the fire and champagne and the promise of things to come. Looking forward to that. And affordable health care.

Happy Chanuka Minky!

Sleepy star

Bathing beauties

Me and Minus

Tweet This Post