seriously, let's get to it!

Sometime around midnight, Henry came to my side and found my hand to nudge. I thought maybe he wanted to go outside, but while I waited, nuzzling him lightly, he wagged his long tail, turned around, and went back to his bed. My sweet pooch just wanted to make sure I was still there.

We were up at 6:30 -- a respectable hour, one that he and I are used to. 

(Sunrise today is at 7:23; the winter sky so often displays splendid colors just before...)

 

 

It is still a cold morning, so on goes the sweater. 

 

(waiting for the elevator) 

I had to smile. These doggies sweaters, while not expensive, have multiplied far in excess of his needs. This is what happens when you buy the wrong size again and again, then rush to replace it quickly because of that Arctic blast. In the end, the coldest temps were when he was at doggie camp and though I packed his sweater, they told me he played outside without it and did not rush to go for a walk with any of the people there. Yes, there will be cold mornings in January, February, March, and he will wear those wraps for sure, but I can see that a good half of them I can donate to the shelter.

As I walked him along his favorite once grassy spaces (now covered with snow), I thought again about the dogs in downtown Chicago. It was depressing to watch their walks along busy streets with no grassy areas at all to sniff or use for a doggie's outdoor needs. I suppose a small pooch would be okay. The family I lived with in New York when I was nannying their child had a Yorkie. A yappie dog that was so small, I was always afraid I'd step on him and break his spine. The butler/chauffeur would take the pooch out to the curb a couple of times a day and that seemed to be okay for this dog that did not appear to crave the great outdoors. On weekends we'd go to their place in Connecticut, with lots of space for a dog to enjoy, but the Yorkie stayed inside. He seemed baffled by nature. But why would anyone keep a large dog in the commercial heart of the city, especially in a place without a park nearby? What luxury to have so many places to walk a dog here, even in the rather commercial neighborhood where I live.

Breakfast. My pooch is hungry! Even after I feed him and sit down to my own breakfast, he comes over and waits. Or, is it that he just wants one more rub, a few more sweet words?

Okay, Henry. I'm just as happy to be with you again.

Much as Henry loves being home again, he also loves his routine of going to doggie daycare. Perhaps he missed Goose? And his other pals there? By the time we drive up, Henry is whining to go inside!

And now I have before me a day where I really have to get moving on Christmas preparations. Light grocery shopping followed by wrapping. Well, that was the plan. I take out my birdhouse (I kept it inside while I was away) and I hang it, waiting once again for birds to show up.

It's a windy day and the feeder is swinging as if pumped by a child's knees.  That can't be good. I should anchor it to the pole. As I go about changing things around outside, I shake my head at the time I have spent on the birding project. Though I will have taken precautions to keep the birds healthy and safe, it is still the case that bird feeders are a as much if not more for the humans who put them out as they are for the birds. Yes, some birds will benefit from a supplemental clean food source, so long as you dont have cats around, but the greater benefit is there for the people who want to in this way connect with nature. I realize that. Birdsong, bird movement -- I want to hear it, see it in the same way that I want to see and smell flowers blooming outside, or feel the strength and beauty of trees in the forest. And there's nothing wrong with being selfish in this way, so long as you are vigilant and do no harm. So far, with no birds yet on my balcony, I can relax my vigilance!

(the tissue paper stars? I made them at my Chicago daughter's house -- she taught me how to fold them)

And then finally, I start in on Christmas wrapping.

 

Late in the day, I pick up Snowdrop at school. 

 

 

 

I was to transport her to her next activity, but she asks if she could opt out for tonight and just come over to the Edge instead.

So did you notice? Over the weekend, she took the brave step of going pixie. Her choice. A scary one, but she took the plunge. Finally, the struggles of keeping a dense head of hair in order is behind her. We're thrilled. No more chasing her with a hairbrush!

And yes, it was pajama day in school. Spirit week calls for pajamas on Tuesday.

We pick up both Henry and Goose. Henry is hyped with having his best bud in the backseat with him. Perhaps that's why, back at the Edge, he comes into the lobby barking away. Woof! -- at people he knows, woof! -- at strangers. Tail wagging, pulling toward home. 

Henry, we've got work to do!

with so much love... 

from one place to the next

There's a lot of chaos and frenzy when you get ready to travel to a place that requires careful preparation. Did I remember the gifts for Primrose? My bag of just-in-case meds? Did I pack the right clothes? Get a thermos of warm tea ready for the drive? Is the car washed? Filled with gas? Are Henry's essentials all there? 

It is always a relief when you arrive, on time, and you know you haven't forgotten anything. You shift your attention to the events that really make all this worthwhile. Small things: a book read with a grandchild, a recipe discussed with your daughter, tree decorations admired, snatches of conversation, with all of them, but, too, a good listen to their own exchanges, with their friend, with each other. And big things: the Nutcracker, the birthday, meals together. I had recently said to Ed that this is what makes life worth living: those feelings of love that rush forward when you are with the people who are your everything. He still made the case for finding pleasure in solitude, but even though I, too, love solitary moments, and indeed need a good dose of them each and every day, the thing that keeps my wheels turning is lodged there in the in the lives of those whom I deeply love.

But then comes the departure. The sadness of leaving. Of heading away from my daughter's home. Sigh...

 

I wake up again on the late side. The Arctic blast will be receding today, but it's still darn cold outside. Many many degrees below freezing. 

 

Not that you can tell looking out at the blocks of tall towers, with people living one on top of the other. Wouldn't it be interesting to write a book of stories about the inhabitants of one such buildings? Do their worlds overlap? Or is it all a hodgepodge of disconnected universes? Bound in space, but not otherwise?

 

I wont see any of the young family today. They're off at work, in school, the usual Monday doings. I have one item on my list for today -- walk over to Eataly for a breakfast and a quick peak at the foods there.

I love this food emporium! Italy has the biggest number of these stores. Eataly headquarters are in the Piedmont (the northwestern corner of the country) and there are 14 stores in the bigger Italian cities. (The rest of the world has about 25 of them, spread over the continents; of those, 12 are in the US, mostly on the coasts and then this one in Chicago). Walking through the food aisles is a total pleasure, but I have a specific goal today: to pick out a panettone for the holidays. In years past, I'd ordered one online and indeed, you could argue that the very best one is actually made in Texas, but at a whopping price that I will not pay, so here I am looking at the authentic ones from Italy.

Oh, this one looks good! And on sale! The one to the right, with the Amarena Fabri cherries.

I put it in the basket. As I stroll, I notice that it was just one of many panettone displays.

The store is loaded with them, from every corner of Italy! Should I reconsider? Maybe the ones with pears and dark chocolate? Or orange peel from Sicily?

I stay with the cherries.

 

Now for a brisk walk back to the hotel...

 

 

 

I pass a long snaking line. 

 

 

It's so cold! What could they be waiting for? In postwar Poland, we always investigated long lines. What if there are lemons? Or better yet, toilet paper? So I ask these people -- what are you waiting to buy? 

You wouldn't believe the answer: a cup of coffee from the Ralph Lauren store. I can't help bugging them again. Just coffee? What so special about it? I mean, the paper cups are pretty, but really? Coffee? Why? (Notably, there are Starbucks all over the place. No lines.) The young women I badger think about this for a while. Because it's from Ralph Lauren... 

Did I miss the moment when it became super cool to drink coffee from a Ralph Lauren store? 

 

And then I drive back to Madison. Well, I Uber over to retrieve my car, and then I drive back. If it were warmer, I'd take the L train, but I'm still coughing away and the idea of a longer walk isn't doing it for me today.

I'm to pick up Henry at 4 and I've come to town a bit earlier. Perfect opportunity to stop over at the farmhouse and have something warming to drink.

(Maybe Ed's solitude isn't entirely solitary... Pancake now comes inside the farmhouse. So there are three cats that hang out here, and three that hang out in the sheep shed.)

 

 

 

I am of course anxious about Henry. Did he survive camp??

My sweet boy! To say that he is happy to see me is your understatement of the century. Henry is overjoyed. I let him jump all over me. Good thing I did not jump all over him.

Henry got a report card and I was eager to read their assessment of my pooch. 

There were no surprises. They saw him as a sweet, happy, well trained dog (!), a little shy, but with a tender temperament -- a dog who loved cuddles and of course, despite the weather -- loved his time outside. 

Now, you could say that this is a camp in the business of having you, the owner beam with pride, happy to do a repeat visit ASAP, because they love your dog so much.  Yet I think they checked all the right boxes for Henry Bean. Notably absent was a check in the "very talkative" box, giving him a "mellow" instead. Henry is mellow! And sweet! If a little shy.

Unfortunately, we cant go straight home -- he has a vet visit for a booster shot of something or other, plus a flu shot add-on, as the kennel requires it starting next year. I notice that there are benefits reaped from his camp adventure: he is more confident. The clinic? No problem! No hesitation. We walk right in. I want to weigh him. To get him on the scale? Not an issue! My pup is growing up! (Also getting bigger: he has gone from 51 pounds at the time of adoption two months ago, to 56 pounds today.)

Once all that is out of the way, we head straight for the Edge.

Home, for my happy Henry Bean. Never more than a foot away from my side all evening.

with so much love... 

 

Chicago celebrations

The last time I woke up at 8:30 in the morning? Can't remember. Ages ago. True, I wake up and get up earlier because I like the mornings. I like the delicate light, I like breakfast, I like having the day before me. Nonetheless, it was rather luxurious to not even consider waking up until 8:30.

Outside -- unmentionable temperatures. I'm not sure new record lows were set, but there is a felt imbalance taking place on our planet -- too warm, too cold, too wet, too dry. Today definitely belongs to the too cold category.

View out my window? Same as the last few times I was here! I'll aim the camera that way, for variety.

I Uber to my daughter's place. Many things going on there today. Let me just throw some out to give yo an idea: babka tasting, croissant bread pudding making, girl dancing, and importantly: birthday celebrating!

We are a day off in celebrating Juniper's 4th, nonetheless this is definitely her moment. Presents, cake -- it all falls on this Sunday. And she is ready for it! 

But first, my milky coffee with a slice of chocolate babka from Breads Bakery in NYC. 

Now, about that croissant based baked pudding (translated from a recipe straight from a Venetian kitchen):

While the "pudding" is baking, the kids want to show me a video clip from when Juniper was just two months old. She said the name Primrose! It was her first word... I have my doubts. At two months? It's not an easy word to say, even for a two year old. 

But they find the video clip. And it's true! By some miracle known only to the babe herself, we distinctly hear it -- Primrose.

Okay, croissant pudding is ready! Brunch time.

It is outstanding. I am not kidding. Out of this world good! (I do have to admit, however, that the kids were slightly more impressed with their chosen cookies for dessert.) 

*     *     * 

Let's focus now on the birthday girl!

Are the balloons ready?

Is the girl up from her nap?

Is her sister back from the Nutcracker?  Can I do our famous timed release selfie?

Let the party begin!!

With present opening, a supper of favorite foods...

And of course, the birthday cake. Rainbow, because Juniper loves a good rainbow cake.

Happy,  happy birthday to you!

She will have many firsts in the year ahead. New travel adventures, new school -- those are the obvious ones. She is a determined, imaginative, clever and affectionate child, with a fierce love for her family. May the year truly shine for her!

*     *     * 

The evening ends with a lighting of the Menorah. We have among us an observer of Hanukkah and today is, of course, the first night of Hanukkah. 

 

 

 

To all who are lighting that first candle tonight -- happy Festival of Lights! 

 

with so much love... 

 

transitions, delights and everything inbetween

They are so observant. They know. They may not always understand the implications, but they sense the direction in which you're heading.They watch, compare, sniff out all that can be sniffed out. And they worry. Dogs in a nutshell. My dog in a nutshell.

The day starts off as it often does now -- with a happy wake-up just before 7. Henry waits until I get dressed, which in the winter isn't exactly a speedy deal. And he is (more or less) patient when I put on his warm jacket. It is 4F (-16C) outside. Could be worse. Indeed, it will get worse. Still, he needs his jacket.

 

I should have put balm on his foot pads, but that would have been weird for him, and he has enough of weird before him today. And he knows it. Even now, on our early morning walk, he is more vocal than he usually is. He looks, considers, pauses.

Sigh... My best ever dog.  

A warm shower feels great. He understands that routine. But things are slightly off for him. For instance, why is there a satchel lying on the floor by the bed? I come out of the shower and note that Henry has chewed up one of the handles. I can't really blame him. It's on the floor. It's an unknown. Maybe it's a toy? For me?

We eat breakfast. 

 

 

I can't read my novel. I'm too distracted by all the steps I have to take to get Henry, my bags, his bags, bags of birthday gifts, laptop, camera, a thermos of hot tea -- into the car by 9. And of course, Henry sees those bags, his favorite toys stuffed into a sack, food, apportioned, in baggies, his blanket, his treats and chewies. 

There, is, however, always time for affection. 

 

 

 

For my brilliant lap dog. 

 

 

 

We drive to Camp K9. He follows me inside. I go over the details of his stay there. There's good news -- someone is picking up their dog unexpectedly earlier. Henry is getting a room upgrade! In an hour, once they clean up the place. In the meantime, the attending person takes Henry's leash. Henry sits down one of his firm sits. No way am I going with her! He hides behind me. I have to lead him to his prison cell. Yes there are other dogs, yes they all have a comfy blanket on the floor. The dogs may hear each other, but they see nothing of interest. I throw treats on the blanket, he munches them, but he is trembling. And I'm crying. My poor sweet dog.

He will be spending time in this Camp's daycare for a good chunk of the day. He'll play with other dogs. He'll like that. But at night and when not with other dogs, he is in a cell. A larger one, with a bed and pictures on the wall and some noise -- a TV maybe? I should have told them that he really likes jazzy Christmas music.

*     *     * 

I drive over to the farmette and pick up Ed for a breakfast date at Paul's Cafe.  Yes, I have to be in Chicago today, but our meet-up there isn't until 4. (I dropped Henry off in the morning because otherwise he would not be eligible for playtime with other dogs.) 

Ed is in a pensive mood. I have no idea what's on his mind. I ask. He tells me -- you, gorgeous, I'm thinking about you. How nice it is here, with you. Not sure that I can trust this account, but I get no more than that.

*     *     *  

The drive to Chicago is uneventful and that's good. I consider not being part of a multi-car pile up to be a splendid outcome. 

Here's the plan for today: Primrose is dancing in the Chicago Ballet's Nutcracker. She is a toy soldier in the party scene (first half) and an angel in the snow scene (second half). There are two performances today -- a matinee, attended by a handful of family members and friends, and an evening show -- attended by me! In between, there is a break and this is when I am to meet up with the whole lot of them.

Since I pull in a few minutes before 4, I find a neighborhood coffee shop -- the Coffee Lab -- to park myself in. Yes, I am in Chicago. 

 

*     *     *

Now comes the time for Primrose to grab a bite to eat. We head out to a nearby Whole Foods where she can have some quick prepared sushi (the girl loves California rolls). Let me assure you, it is a brisk walk. It's freezing outside! These two are utter saints to pause for a photo for me!

 

 

When Primrose returns to the theater to get ready for her next show, I go out to dinner with the remaining members of her family and a good friend of the parents who may as well be family. What else would you call a person who travels all the way from New York to see the little girl dance?

*     *     * 

We eat at Cebu Chicago, described as a modern Filipino restaurant, thankfully within a short walk of the theater. I do not know a whole lot about the food traditions of the Philippines, and I definitely want to find out what I've been missing.

It's great stuff! 

And now the rest of the fam returns home (Juniper's bedtime is fast approaching) and I turn my attention to the Nutcracker. 

 

*     *     * 

Primrose is very musical, so dance comes easily for her. She is, of course, perfectly awesome, and the whole performance is festive and beautiful! I fully expected to not use my camera. However. The announcement before the ballet was to shut off your cellphones and to not take flash photos. Well now!

 (Act I)

 

(Act II)

 

 

I pick up the little dancer afterwards. No flowers for her -- they would not survive this Arctic blast. I owe her a bouquet!

*     *     * 

I take Primrose home, park the car in their neighborhood and Uber over to my hotel -- the Sofitel downtown (what a deal! I can't remember the last time I had a room for $149 per night in the big city!).

I have no idea why, in this large hotel, I always wind up in the same room, or at least one on the same floor with the same view, but I do. Though I get a seasonal mix in there today:

Such a day! Henry, you would have been proud of your human cousin. She danced like a pro! Sleep well, all you canines, and humans who care for them, and for each other.

with so much love... 

it's coming!

What's your impending threat or pleasure? Christmas? The holiday visit with the in-laws? The post-holiday letdown that so many feel? 

Right now, in my immediate future I have three, of varying degrees of intensity. First of all, there is the coming of the ridiculously cold weather tomorrow. I do not consider wind chills of -20 or better yet, -30F (-29 to -34C) to be sane for mid December in southern Wisconsin. Perhaps Santa feels differently about it up there on the North Pole, but we in Madison are 3200 miles (or 5200 km) from the North Pole. Indeed, geographically speaking, we are closer to the Equator (3000 miles or 4800 km to our south), so I feel we should reap some benefits from that. Even in December. 

My second event is a compilation of delights -- after I get over the hurdles and through the barricades. I'm to go to Chicago for a performance and birthday and really, to see everyone there. I did not get to hang out with the younger family over Thanksgiving (weather issues then!) so I am especially keen on this visit. However, there's the weather causing havoc yet again (though no storm is coming, so that's good) and then there is now also Henry. He has to stay home, or at least stay here, in Madison. This will be the first time that I will be leaving him. He came into my life two months ago and I've not traveled nor even gone out for an evening since then. 

I will not admit to how many hours I have spent looking for the perfect pet care situation. I checked out, booked, then cancelled private homes that take dogs for pay. (What if they're mean to him? What oversight do I have over their treatment of my pooch?) Ed had once volunteered to care for Henry in my absence, but it has become obvious to me that he knows very little about dog care and, too, there is the issue of farnhiuse cats. And stuff lying around for Hnery to ingest that he should never ingest. Then, I posted notes on the doggie daycare board. Sometimes the caregivers there take on pet sitting. But none could do it this weekend. Next, I booked him in a luxury and ridiculously expensive doggie lodge, then quickly canceled after reading one or two reviews that absolutely trashed the place. All corporate, no soul. I also considered hiring someone to just stay in my apartment, but this is not easy. Henry has an outdoor schedule that is now being established and it relies on me knowing his needs as they arise. Plus he barks at people in the elevator. This has to be handled with care and apology and a firm but gentle hand. So no, that wont work either.

What's a human to do??

In the end I booked him a place at Camp K9. They call his place a "classic suite" but it's a cell, really! That's all they had available. He is on the wait list for an upgrade, but they assured me that dogs do not fare better or worse if they are in the classic suite or their bigger better... well, cell, though with a window! He'd love a window! Camp K9 is way on the other side of town, but I know it from some 25 years ago, back when I had a dog and was equally troubled about doggie care. They remain wildly popular and more importantly, they are a family run place, and they actually care about the dogs that go there. I have received very many reassuring emails to my panicked inquiries about his level of care. And yet, how can I not worry? Wont Henry Bean feel abandoned? Back in a kennel, as if a shelter is to be his home again, with strangers coming to him instead of... well, me!

All that happens tomorrow. Today, I get ready. 

It's cold again. Very cold. Henry is outgrowing his smallest sweater so I may as well put it to good use. 

Again, we do a brief walk. Is this the new normal in the morning? Perhaps it is, at least in the winter.

Breakfast. I have such fondness for this meal! At the farmhouse, when I travel, and now here, at the Edge. Routines firmly in place! 

Then comes the warmest, cuddliest time of the day. On the couch, with Henry.

He goes to doggie daycare, I do errands. Pick up meds for my non-pneumonia. And pick up a Wisconsin antler for my Henry Bean. He really should not rely on very hard chewies (something about potential damage to the teeth), but I think if he has it while I'm there, he will be okay. He always steals Goose's antler when we go over to visit. For Christmas, he shall have his own.

While at the pet store, I see a shelf of foot balm for dogs. I ask the owner (at least I think he's the owner... he acts owner-ish) if this is at all helpful, especially since I have now rejected dog booties for Henry. I'm told it is mildly helpful. I use it for my dog every time we go out in the winter. But then, I live where our walks are always on concrete sidewalks. Well yeah, where else do you walk your pooch around here? Henry, let's try it. I do hate that your feet are bathed in salt against a hard, frozen slab of concrete.

When I drive from one place to the next, I listen to a station that calls itself "Variety Music." (It's 107.3FM) Sure, I know about playlists and I do subscribe to Apple music, but I like the old fashioned radio too, and especially for holiday music. They pick a good balance between jazzy and playful, without excessive religious messaging or an overabundance of commercials. (So old fashioned is it, that they still announce the station with a jingle, just like in my childhood!) I've gotten to know the two dj's and I am mildly amused at their back and forth. They're not terrible, just a bit silly. Today, one of them went on about the pleasure of receiving holiday cards. He offered this -- emails are nice but you read them and they go to your trash, whereas cards get special space on your fridge. 

I dont quite display cards on my refrigerator, but I keep them in a basket right by my breakfast placemat. And yes, I love them. [Some of you have asked for my new address. I am happy to pass it on to you, but do know that sending anything to the old one will reach me as well, via Ed, albeit with a few days' delay.] I truly love these pieces of paper in an envelope with my name on it. Your pictures, your choice of design -- it's all so beautiful. Yes, it is a fleeting connection, but it is a wonderful one. Perhaps a throw back to the days when not everything was done online. For those who send cards -- to me, to others in your life -- thank you. 

The rest of the morning is spent on tidying the apartment in preparation for my monthly visit of the cleaning team. This has been a real treasure. The dusting, the wiping down of water stains -- it makes such a difference! When I get up off the couch I dont have that sinking feeling that I should clean the shelves, TV, table, whatever. I know that what I wont accomplish in the next four weeks, will be taken care of by these wonderful people. One of the best luxuries I've ever experienced!

I go to a coffee shop while they clean. Of course I do. 

 

And then it's time to pick up Sparrow, Snowdrop, feed them, take them (tired as they are from too many late nights) to their play performance.

I cant say that I miss the drive between school, farmhouse, and home. But today I remembered the upside of that drive. This is when I have the best conversations with the kids. I tell stories from my past that relate to their present. The subject of religion comes up. As does the question of kids: how many do they want? They always have a fixed idea about this, though that idea changes over time! 

In the evening, I pick up Henry. Well, I try to pick him up and take him home. I always take him for a short walk before we get in the car. He usually needs it then. Tonight, we walked over to the big field to the side of the doggie daycare and he picked up a scent. Of a vole? A mouse? A dead animal? When Henry does this, he becomes focused on the task of tracking the scent. Nothing else matters. I cannot call him away from it. Tonight, I realized that we've crossed an important milestone: he is now stronger than I am. (And despite my age, I think I am pretty strong.) I could not pull him away. Eventually I tricked him into switching direction, but it should not take that to get him pay attention. I have been sloppy with our training. We do it daily, sure, but not enough, in part because at home, he is always so good at all the commands that repeating them over and over makes little sense. I need to work with him in other spaces, where there are distractions. And that's not so easy in the dead of winter. I glance over the class schedule for dog training. Maybe a few more classes would make sense? Something to consider. 

Henry comes home, we eat, we snuggle. I try not to think about his next two nights away from home. Maybe he'll make friends? Maybe they'll grow to love him there? One can hope...

(keeping his paw on his new snowman squeaky toy)

 

with so much love...