Memories of a Dear Friend

I lost my special friend Betty recently and wanted to share some memories. We met while walking our dogs. I had just moved to the neighborhood after living in a house in the middle of the woods for 10 years, where my only neighbors were raccoons, deer and wild turkeys. Sure, that sounds ideal when you think of some of your own neighbors, but I had started to miss a little human contact.

It's amazing that she even started talking to me. I mean, I was perfecting the art of rolling out of bed and walking my dog in the clothes I slept in. Take time to brush teeth or hair - naaahhh. She was more than "put together". She wore colorful jackets, wide brimmed hats, and I was pretty sure she was fully groomed, no matter what ungodly time we insomniacs passed each other in the morning. Small talk turned into a close friendship. She was a number of years older than me, but her mental attitude and mine were about the same age. And her style - artist chic!

When I met her, she was planning a photo safari trip to Africa with a friend and I was planning my first solo trip to Europe. It ended up that we were leaving on the same day and were staying in hotels side by side near the airport so we could catch early flights. I was seeing many commonalities between us.

We were both sticklers for being on time. If I said I would pick her up at 8:30, she would be waiting outside at 8:29 knowing I would be exactly on time. Once, for fun, I told her I'd be there at 5:17 and there she was, waiting.

We had a favorite Mexican restaurant we would go to about once a month and would both order the same meals each time - with the same beer. I have to admit that I usually had her order the beer because I sometimes, OK often, forgot the name of it - and she never did. What a memory she had! She said that every morning she went on to the AARP website and did all of the daily puzzles. Hmmm, maybe I would have remembered the name of "our" beer if I had not spent my morning reading the celeb mags.

She did start me on the road to addiction - addiction to Hidden Object games! It started with her giving me one to try (doesn't it always?) and ended with a full blown obsession to those games. And she remembered the names of just about all of the hundreds of games she played. Just before she passed, I told her I had just purchased a number of new games, but of course I couldn't remember their names. A short time later she emailed me to remind me to tell her the names of those games. When I finally looked them all up she wrote back quickly to tell me how many stars they had been rated and that I made good choices. She probably had played them all long ago.

My friend was an artist and I admired her paintings, amazing quilts, and found object pieces. I am a quasi writer but she read my blogs and gave me positive feedback regularly. I was recently in Italy for 3 months with my dog and wrote a daily blog about my adventures. She couldn't figure out how to write a comment on my blog, but often wrote me an email with comments specifically about what I had written. She said every morning she got up, got her coffee and read my blog. She checked it again before she went to bed. That gave me motivation to keep writing, and to make sure my writing was worthy of her attention. I loved to make her laugh.

When I got home from Italy, I was eager to go to our favorite Mexican restaurant with her. But when I saw her I could see she was in poor health. She wasn't able to leave the house. Over the next few months her health started to slowly improve and finally about 2 months ago, we were able to start going out and have some fun again.

Whether it was going out to eat, shopping, going to a doctor's appointment or me coming over to fix some little problem she was having, the visits were always filled with smiles, intimate conversation and ended with us both saying "I love you".

On February 29, I thought we needed to so something special since that day only comes once every 4 years. She and our friend Carol were up for anything. We ended up going thrift store shopping, going to eat at that favorite Mexican restaurant and going to a psychic. We had planned to all go to the Psychic Fair at the end of the month, but Betty thought that it was OK if we went this time, since it was a month before that Fair.

We crazy ladies decided to all stay in the room when each was having their reading for support and to be able to help each other remember what was said; three brains equals just a little better memory than Betty's alone!

Before the reading, the lady told us that with all of us in the room, sometimes the feelings she would get about one person were really related to someone else in the room. I guess we were just too cozy to be able to separate our auras. A few times, that did happen. One in particular stood out to me.

She asked how Betty and I met and we gave our story. She looked at Betty and said something like (no, I can't remember it exactly) "You needed to meet her. You were in need of her as a friend. You were feeling down". I saw Betty nod her head a little. But as I sat there quietly, I know she was reading me. That chance meeting walking our dogs in the wee hours of the morning gave me over four years of an intimate friendship with a beautiful, loving and insightful woman. When she was ill I told her that she needed to get better because I couldn't bear not having her in my life. She said "We were meant to be friends. We were friends in a past life and will be friends in our next life." I am counting on it.

Deer Me!

Deer are big, fast, some have antlers, some have babies, and they eat most everything in the yard. Although almost as many deer as people live in my neighborhood, that is the extent of what I know about deer. Well, that was the extent of what I knew about deer until this week.

I came home from walking the dogs and noticed what appeared to be a mound in my front yard next to the fence. My old eyes first thought it was a large mound of dirt - we do have fire ants here. Then I thought it might be a large plastic bag that blew against the fence - a much more acceptable option. But as I walked a little closer, I saw that is was a deer laying on the ground. It had a big belly and I was pretty sure it was close to birthing season. I had no idea what to do about it.

I called a neighbor who said that most of the time the deer give birth standing up but if they are having problems, they often lay down. Great, what do I do about a pregnant deer who is having problems in my front yard? Do I call a vet?

Deciding to get another opinion I called another neighbor who is pretty knowledgable about wildlife. I asked if he could just come by and see what he thought. He asked if it was breathing, and from my distant view - I wasn't going close - I couldn't tell. What if it jumped up and ran at me? Do deer have rabies? I could google, but I decided to wait for the expert opinion.

Soon my neighbor showed up and as gently as possible said "that deer is dead." I could see my IQ level going down in his estimation when he slowed his speech and enunciated his words when saying "Deer around here don't give birth for another two or three months. That swelling is from it being dead for at least a day or two." How did I not see it before? Now what do I do?

"You have a few options. We can drag it to the back of your truck and you can drive out to the country and dump it. You can call around to see if someone will take it away. Or you can bury it". I asked a rancher once what they did with a dead horse. He said they buried it. I couldn't imagine digging a hole big enough to bury a horse! Especially in rocky Texas!. Now I find that is one of my options. And in my opinion, it was the best. I just couldn't see myself driving around town with a dead deer in my truck. And how could I "fling" it out the back when I found a good place to do it? I didn't even want to get close to it in my yard. He said he would come back the next day to help me dig the hole.

After he left, another neighbor, a single "get-it-done" lady came over and offered to help me drag it down the street to her vacant lot and put it in the burn pile. Now, she lives about 1/2 a block away. "Yuck" was my first thought. Then I wondered what the other neighbors would think when they saw 2 older ladies dragging a deer down the road? I think there is a fine for killing a deer and I would not want to try to prove that it just up and keeled over in my yard. Besides, that thing would be heavy - and smelly. She then came up with the idea of bringing a wagon over and us hoisting the deer into the wagon to get it to her house. Now, the wagon is about 1/4 the size of the deer, and how would we lift the deer off of the ground enough to get it in to the wagon? And, how would we do it without getting too close to it? Maybe it's just me, but I couldn't even disect a frog in biology. I have to use a paper towel to pick up a dead insect. Carrying or even dragging a dead deer on to my truck or down my road did not appeal to me. So, it was back to the burying plan.

I got on Facebook to ask "how big of a hole do you dig to bury a deer". Responses were "Oh that poor deer", and "I'm so sorry for both of you." I would say "poor deer" also, if it hasn't chosen my front yard as it's last resting place. But no one gave me dimensions for a deer burial plot.

Deciding not to wait for my neighbor, I started gathering all of my digging tools and then looked for a place to start working. I just couldn't bring myself to get too close to the "poor" deer - sorry I lost my compassion for the deer hours ago and was feeling sorry for myself. I finally decided to dig close but not where I would have to look at it with each shovel full of dirt. I am not the most physically fit person - but I was on a mission. To reward myself for my hard work, I took a break every 15 minutes or so to get my strengh back. Cookies help. Every time I was sure I got the hole big enough, I would eyeball the deer, sigh in disgust, and dig wider and deeper. I think the deer in our neighborhood are overfed.

The next day, my neighbor came over and finished the job for me. I will leave out the gory details but suffice to say I could not have done what he did. I let him know how much I appreciated his help with this and was thankful that the ordeal was over when he commented as he was leaving "Just watch that dogs or coyotes don't dig it up". Ahhh, crap. I run to my computer to google "how to keep a deer buried".

I Hate Resealable Food Bags

I know those are strong words, but has anyone ever really been able to open those bags and reseal them? It is not possible. It doesn't matter which food you get in those bags, they all must have been invented by the same drunk inventor - who is related to the head of the big food companies.

I have tried sliced cheese resealable bags, sliced luncheon meats, salad mix and guacamole, and none of those bags reseal. Some make you think they are different because they give you a little groove to help you start opening the bag. But when you tear along that groove, it doesn't even open the bag enough to get to your food, so you still have to find another way to open it. If you aren't at home, and may have bought the food for a relaxing picnic in the park, you have the challenge of how to open the bag without the benefit of sharp tools. I try a plastic knife - no luck. I try the little blade or little scissors that come on a pen knife, if I remember to bring one. As precisely as possible, I cut or tear just above the sealing part and I still can't get to the food.

Finally I just stab the bag below the seal with a plastic fork or pen and pull the meat or cheese out - because I'm getting hungry. Now I have no chance to keep my food fresh by zipping that sucker closed but I have gotten rid of some of my frustration.

Depending on where I am, I can do one of three things. I can find a bigger zip lock bag or a plastic bag to put the food back in and hope it keeps for a few days. I can look for a paper clip or bobby pin to reseal the bag as best I can. Or I can eat the remaining food in the bag and throw away that "convenient" resealable bag. Depending on my hunger, I make my choice.

I think there should be a "truth in advertising" label on these products. "This item will most likely not reseal, so don't count on it. Always have a pair of scissors or knife handy when opening. Do not put the plastic bag over your head."