The photo below was sent via email today by my sister on behalf of my nephews, Lincoln and McCann, whose entrance into this world I eagerly await. I stared at it through watery eyes, arose from my desk, poured myself a glass of wine and toasted to all of my best good things: siblings, parents, nephews, nieces, true friends, and a few good words.
The beauty of a few good words is that they have the sovereignty to negate all offensive predecessors; to make the beneficiary cast off the adverse force of caustic declamations that came before; to remind us of what is real and pure and worth it in this world; to extend to us the strength and resiliency to dismiss those things that compromise our best good things.
Here is a look at one of my best good things to come:
LINKIE HANGIN' OUT IN HIS MOMMA'S BELLY
Isn't he the cutest? I asked my sis if I she'd mind if I just crawl in there and cuddle the crap outta him till he is ripe and ready to greet the world. I don't think she was so crazy about the proposal...
Little Macdoe is in there somewhere too - it seems he's still a bit camera shy.
Thanks, Linkie and Mac, for sending me a few good words. You are a beautiful reminder of all that is real and pure and worth it in this world.
It’s been nearly 48 hours since our plane lifted off the tarmac at Cancun International Airport and I’m still defying the urge to greet people with an “Hola” and thank them with a “Gracias.” We only spent five and half days in Mexico – Akumal, to be exact, but the warm water, cool sand of the Riviera Maya, and fruity drinks aplenty will tumble through my thoughts for days and weeks to come.
THE CARIBBEAN SEA
It was refreshing to wake up to the sea breeze blowing in through the open balcony door, and to lazily lie in bed and watch the sheer curtains dance in the draft. I reveled in the thought that the only decisions that needed to be made were whether to wear my olive green bathing suit or my maroon one, or whether to hit up the breakfast buffet at 9:00 or 9:30.
Yet although resort life can be good, but it had its setbacks: being so used to traveling to places where we are deeply ingratiated in the culture that surrounds us, Mart and I had a hard time feeling like we were, in fact, in Mexico. Everywhere we looked we saw Americans, Brits, and Canadians, and other than the resort employees, who were predominately Mexican, the crowd was largely homogenous: white, middle class folk. Don’t get me wrong – I like white, middle class folks. I happen to be one. But after two days on the resort, we packed up the sunscreen and bottled water and hopped the collective to the Tulum Mayan Ruins and then to Tulum Pueblo, where we got our cultural fix and rubbed elbows with the locals.
TULUM RUINS:
TULUM PUEBLO:
While in Mexico we marveled at the sea, spent listless hours with our toes in the white sand, and ate as much as our bellies could hold. At the end of each day we questioned our sanity for settling in the humdrum county of Albany. As we walked the beach on our last day there, we passed a vendor selling pottery in an open-air thatch-roofed hut.
He greeted us as we entered: “Hola, como estas?”
“Muy bueno. Y tu?”
“I’m at work,” he responded dryly in English (as if to say, "How happy can I be?")
We looked at his wares and continued our walk along the beach, discussing the fact that our idea of paradise is just someone else’s idea of home – the place they live, the place they laugh and cry, lay in bed when they are sick, visit the bank when they are low on cash, stand in line at the grocery store, and work. I mentally sifted through our short list of reasons why we chose to stay in Albany, to have it be the place where we did these things. Family and friends were, of course, number one. Work came in second, and comfort and convenience followed close behind. The list may be short, I thought to myself but, damn, those things are worth it.
I thought about how the more I travel, and the more I see of other people’s places in this world, the more I understand that those who live on paradise’s doorstep don’t recognize it as such. Looking out into the miles of vast open sea, I pondered the relevance of Dave Wilcox’s song “In Plain View”:
"You don't get it when you got it
You can't see it when it's in plain view
Don't ask a fish about the water
You never notice what you're right next to"
As we walked the beach and I dipped my toes into the far reaching edges of each fizzling wave, I contemplated how much home makes me appreciate 'everywhere else', and how much ‘everywhere else’ makes me truly appreciate home.
Tuesday’s return journey was long and tiring – it’s always so difficult to leave a beautiful place and go back to life as usual. But when we pulled up to the house at 2:30 am, stumbled to the door, turned the key in the lock, and wearily prepared for bed, I realized how good it felt to be here. As I sunk between the cold sheets of my bed and pulled the down comforter over us to ward off the March chill, I thought about our trip, about the time Mart and I shared together in Mexico, and all the other times we have shared in new and interesting places. A smile came across my face: no matter where we go together, it always feels like home where he is.
Since the day we introduced Joey and Tao, Marty and I have joked that the popular saying “Sisters by chance, friends by choice” doesn’t at all apply when it comes to the two of them. In our household, the saying goes "Sisters by chance, friends by force." Although Joey makes daily attempts to snuggle up to Tao when an opportunity presents, Tao typically dissuades her by whacking her on the muzzle, or biting onto her ear until Joey submits and retreats. However, just moments ago, I witnessed what I believe may be history in the making. Joey was curled up on her bed in a sun spot beside the back door. Tao had been sharing the same sun spot (from a safe three feet distance) for over an hour, and Joey had long since given up her repeated invitations for Tao to come mingle. As I sat at the island doing work on the laptop, Tao stood up, yawned, stretched dramatically, and then pranced straight to Joey’s bed. I held my breath, thinking the slightest movement may swiftly throw her off course, and watched in disbelief as she climbed in beside Joey and snuggled up against her as if it were their daily routine. As soon as she was securely settled, I lunged for the camera and began to click away like a mother watching her child take her maiden steps while daddy was away at work.
Even Joey appears shocked...
...but she's smart enough to know a good opportunity when she sees one!
I tend to be a blind cook – throwing things into pots at random and simply cooking to taste. This afternoon I experimented with ginger squash and potato soup.
2.Chop potatoes into small chunks. Boil for 4-5 minutes.
3.Bring chicken broth to boil in large pot. Chop squash into 1 inch chunks and add to broth. Add one minced garlic clove, a dash of rosemary, and a sprinkle of dill. Boil until tender.
4.Drain broth from squash and set broth aside. Place squash in blender and puree.
5.Return pureed squash to pot. Add half and half and remaining broth in equal parts and blend until the mixture reaches desirable consistency.
6.Add onion and potato.
7.Stir in a few pinches of fresh ginger and ground pepper to taste. Let simmer for 3-5 minutes to allow flavors to marry.
Serve in deep bowl. Garnish with sour cream and sprigs of scallions.
In the weeks leading up to September 19th, the day Mart and I brought home Joey, the bundle of puppy joy we had dreamed about and named probably long before her great-grandmother was even a twinkle in her great-great grandmother’s big brown eyes, we were troubled by the upset her arrival may cause our other bundle of joy: Tao, our one and a half year old, indoor-only, spoiled brat Siamese.
We spent hours poring over the literature on best practices in introducing a dog into a cat’s territory, and we carefully plotted our plan of slowly moderating Tao’s exposure to Joey so as to avoid any long-term disdain between the animals. Yes, we are over-thinkers. Actually, allow me to revise that statement: I conduct the over-thinker train; Marty has a season pass and hops on and off at select stops for the ride.
On the long journey home from the breeder in Pennsylvania, with Joey curled up on a blanket on my lap, we talked about our plan. We would first enter the house with the blanket Joey was sleeping on and allow Tao to sniff it in. We would then take turns going into the house and holding Tao so she could smell Joey’s scent on our clothes. Next, I would bring Tao to the open window to watch Joey as she played in the yard and soon after Marty would hold Joey up to the window and let Tao get a feel for her from behind the comfortable barrier of the screen. Next, we would slowly bring Joey into the house and allow the animals to familiarize themselves with one another while Joey remained on the leash. And then, finally, when cat and dog seemed like they could be within a ten foot radius of one another without exposing teeth or revealing claws, we would release Joey from the leash and let them have at it.
I am a creature of plan. And the plan was executed without err.
Within hours we went from a curious but timid dog antagonizing and getting swatted at by a curious but timid cat (see below)...
...to this:
TAO WATCHES OVER HER LITTLE SISTER AS SHE SLEEPS
In the five months that have followed, Tao and Joey have created a very sisterly-like bond. They taunt each other, steal each others' food, nab each others' toys, and on occasion, deliver a swift swat to put each other in their place. Yet, wherever one is, the other happens to be just a few steps behind.
SHARING LUNCH
SNUGGLING
TYPICAL SISTERS
One minute it's pure love and the next they're at each others' throats(love the look of sheer terror in Joey's eye)
But just last week something quite miraculous happened that showed us we might not be doing so bad at this raising sisters thing:
I was upstairs taking a bath when Marty ran in, cheeks red from the cold and holding Tao, breathlessly delivering the following story:
He was in the kitchen checking his email on the laptop. Joey was doing the usual --wandering around the house looking for something to make a mess out of-- when all of the sudden she began to bark. Odd - as she seldom barks inside. He told her to stop and went back to his email. Joey’s barking continued, however, and she began to pace the house in a clear effort to get Marty’s attention. Marty went to the living room with the intent to calm her down, but her barking just got louder. All of his “Joey, stop" and "Joey, no!” wasn’t doing much, and being that she is typically quite obedient, her behavior piqued his curiosity. He approached the window, where Joey was standing with her front legs propped on the ledge, and began to pet her. That’s when he noticed Joey’s gaze fixed upon something in the road. He followed her point of vision and his eyes locked on our wimpy, exceedingly human-dependent, indoor-only Tao! (who must have slipped out more than a half an hour earlier while Marty was busy repairing the front screen door.)
Within seconds Marty was out in the snow, cautiously approaching Tao, who was frozen in her Halloween kitty stance – hair standing on end, tail fat and sticking straight up. He grabbed her and dashed back inside where she was met by an ostensibly grateful Joey, who welcomed her with a sloppy lick to the face. Tao paid her back with a swat to the head.
When all was said and done, Marty and I sat down together and assessed the situation over dinner. The anthropomorphic side of us wanted to believe that Joey had looked out the window, seen Tao, and thought: Oh no! My sister’s outside. She will surely die in the cold. I must do something to save her! However, we concluded that, sadly, our pets aren’t human and that it was more likely that Joey thought Oh no! That soft white thing that belongs in here is out there. She better get her prissy little ass inside or I won’t be able to maul the crap out of her when I get bored with the people.
Now that’s not so anthropomorphic is it??
Although I would love to say that Joey and Tao are the portrait of peace among species that have gone down in history for their conflicting characters (Bruno and Lucifer from Cinderella being my personal favorite), to say so would be a lie. However, nothing warms my heart more than seeing my feline child flop to the floor when her canine counterpart enters the room, roll to her back, spread her legs wide, and look on as Joey licks her butt clean.
If that ain’t sisterly love, I don’t know what is.
