Showing posts from February, 2011

A note from Ange...

that I felt compelled to share...

Recent events which may become generally known require an explanation to friends, family and interested persons. As our friends know, Woody and I have personally cared for my father for several years. Fortunately, he lived only a few doors down the street and this eased our daily efforts to support him as his health deteriorated. In recent months his physical and mental health have deteriorated more rapidly.
Due to worsening dementia, daddy became more difficult to manage. Recently, we made a family decision, initiated by him, to make arrangements for him in a local assisted living home. He is 90.
A few weeks ago, daddy called one morning stating that he was in extreme pain and no one would answer his emergency call button to help him and to get out of bed. Woody rushed to the facility but could not gain access to daddy’s room. Daddy was on the other side of the locked door yelling and screaming in pain. Woody immediately began searching for an attendant…

That's Woody Merry, he's known for stuff like that.

My dad has been in the news a lot lately. Not all of it good. Because the “good stuff” does not sell advertising and newspapers, in my opinion. Allow me to introduce Woody to you. Woody is generous, to a fault. It’s probably his biggest flaw. Don’t laugh, it’s like saying “overly punctual” as a flaw in an interview. But, it is a big flaw. He sees the good in everyone and gives second, third, fourth, and even fifth chances. These strangers, probationers, reformed drug addicts, and people who just hit a rough patch can have good in them and Woody works hard to make sure that he sees it. And helps. He has been burned one time too many and each time we think he has “learned his lesson” and each time, he proves to us that there is someone out there who has good.  Woody’s father died when Woody was young. Silly young, like seven. He was eating breakfast at the kitchen table and his dad said, “Son, I’m going to play racquetball at the gym and we’ll hang out tonight. I love you.” and he was gone…

The Men in Her Life

Eileen and I are cleaning out our closets... it makes me feel better when the house is a wreck, at least I know that the closets are clean. Sadly, we have lived here a little over seven months and they have been cleaned and organized more times than I care to admit to.

Eileen tries on various funny hats & sweaters, jumps up and down, and then... takes them off for the next round. She still has the blueberry yogurt from breakfast all over her face and is currently wearing a pink Minnie Mouse (IN-E, as she calls it) t-shirt & a red fleece hat with a pom-pom on top, electing that over the lavender dual pom-pom fleece hat. 
By the front door is where we are currently sitting, surrounded by wax cotton jackets, leather jackets, the lone fur my parents have said I could BORROW while we reside in 20002, and a vast assortment of baby layers- sweaters, snow suits, buntings, etc.
Eileen has looked at me, on more than one occasion this morning and said, "Daddy?"
"Daddy's no…

Hammer & Nails

Husband is going to have to hide the hammer & nails from me.

If I have to be organized- can't I, at least, be cute?

And yes, these really are what she wears to play in, go to the park in, sleep in, and otherwise be a little girl and make big messes.


Husband was on call the other day (shocker) so Eileen and I had a bubble party with THE GREATEST bubbles, EVER. Seriously. Click here:  8oz Gazilion Refill and buy. If your child is anywhere under the age of 40, they will get a big kick out of these.

She loves trying to catch them.

Since Da-dee was gone, we were able to fill the kitchen with ba-boos for the gleeful girl.

This is her... saying, "BA-BOOS! MOMMY! Ba-Boos! Ba-boos!"

And this is her trying to get the ba-boo off my shoulder.

We (Obviously) decided to forgo the cleaning of the kitchen for more ba-boo time!

Everywhere! ba-boos, mommy!

Ba-boos in her hair, on the fridge.

on the stove...

Look at that smug look-- she caught a ba-boo!

And then she popped said ba-boo.


No time for tea sets & plasma cars, mom. There are Ba-Boos.

She wanted to help out but was not successful.

I love the ba-boos in her hair!

The bubbles like to hang out in Eileen's hair.

Can you see them? Stuck to the rug?

And thi…

Crab Macaroni & Cheese

Lobster is decadent, I will be the first to admit that. It comes out of its shell in a long, lustrous piece of wonderfulness for dinner. It's dipped in clarified butter (because plain butter is too mundane and not nearly rich enough). Besides, lobster is very, very expensive. If a statement is to be made, it is to be made with lobster.

Why take something so delicate and drench it in cheese sauce? Save your clams! Use crab!

For Valentine's Day, I made several batches of crab mac & cheese for friends and the vote was unanimous-- Sup-licious!

Aging... Gracefully

When I was young, piously, the decision was made that there would never be any plastic surgery (except my neck, if I get a chicken neck-- we’ll kiss that sucker good-bye). Like my Aunt Susie, I would let my hair naturally go from brown to gray and I would go along with it. Life’s a journey and there is little room for vanity. Until this morning. Well, let me back up. Two days ago, I was giving myself a haircut -- not a real one, there were just a few loose strands that needed some snipping and this coupon clipper was not going to spend $56 on that. Snip snip sn- What is that?! Surely, no. I’m barely 30 and ...There It Was. My first gray hair. It flittered out of my shaking hand before closer inspection. Amongst the hundreds of thousands of strands of hair on my head, the one discolored could not be found. Surely, SURELY, it was nothing more than a reflection of the bad lighting in our windowless bathroom.  Cursing the bathroom and missing our sunlight filled Raymond Ave, the Heavens were …


Sometimes this small place gets the best of me. Eileen has a walk-in closet, which collects more clutter than any place in the house, er, apartment. Yesterday, it was Time. Time to clean out and get a little more organized. Using innovation and imagination instead of my American Express, I went in search for a hammer and nails.
Eileen has 17 pair of shoes. I do not have 17 pair of shoes (I have 8 pair of flip flops, but those don't count- especially up here where they cannot be worn every day). Hammer... nails.... it's pretty low-rent, but it works and if I possessed one of those fancy cameras, it might even be artistic...

Don't worry though, I'm still me...

And Eileen is still a Georgia girl with her boots...