Can I Keep It?

Suiting Up

Happy Halloween!  The kids are all excited trying to figure out what to wear tonight.  Simone can't decide whether to be a debutante...

Or a scary three headed Cerberus monster.

Zoe is going as a horse...

For the Headless Horseman!

But Zali thinks they should all go as something better...

A Happy Meal! Of course.

Carkeys was going to be Dr. Freud, but she lost her costume. 

Have a spooktacular time tonight! And keep your black cats locked safely inside the house.

*photographer unknown*

Lately I feel as it I'm made up of spare parts.  I'm all extra elbows, knocking knees and pigeon toes.  Clumsily knocking into corners. Dropping glasses.  Tripping over rugs.  You can tell where I am in the house by the CRASH! TUMBLE! DAMMIT! sounds.

Perhaps I'm channelling my inner Carkeys.  She is slipping further into the rabbit hole.  The stairs have become harder for her to navigate down.  I get her up twice a day on good days.  The days when she isn't having a Groundhog's Day.  On those days, she'll get up, precariously maneuver the stairs, go out to do her business, come in to eat, dance, go upstairs (which seems to be less of an obstacle), forget why she's there and come back down again.

*Yes, she has taken the occasional spill on those toys, but I pick them up every morning.  Zoe and Zali drag them all out by days end.  It's their job* 

 

In the past few weeks, however, I have to coax my sweet girl a few steps at a time as she hippity hops down. She's always been a stubborn, independent little missy.  She won't allow us to pick her up despite her feather weight. So as she makes her way to the top of the staircase, I put my hands lightly on her chest to steady her.  A few times, I have softened her fall when she missed a tread.  But she does not complain.  I gently brace her rear and she rises, smiles and shakes it all off.  No whining.

So I will do the same. 

Well, maybe just a few tears.

Hein Bark

Just about every evening now when Hud gets home from work, we take Zali and Simone on a little run around Hein Park.  It's a charming little neighborhood in the middle of the city and across the street from Schyterbolle.  The majority of homes were built in the early twenties right after they moved Rhodes College to its current location on the backside of the subdivision.  The homes are each unique and interesting.

There are my favorites, the airplane bungalow...

And plenty of Tudors like our home...

But we hardly get to see them.  It's all a blur of green and black and blurry white swishes. 

The person who draws the Simone straw is bound to be near a heart attack by the time she's finished with them.

Last night, it was Hud.  This is mostly what Zali and I saw.

Walking Zali is a series of stops and starts.  He's got to pee on every single lawn bag, postal box and ornamental shrub along the way.  It's a law all male dogs must abide by no matter what their size.

He also loves to poop on Hein Park.  He leaves Mrs. Brown and one of her kids on Cypress and the other gets dropped off at 666 East Drive.  It's their regular stops.  But in between his delivery duties, we run.  Or casually trot.  Walk really fast?  Okay amble.  We amble.

But the whole ordeal starts off with a cacaphony of noise and nervous tension.  Simone is excitable.  Very excitable.  I've taught her to jump in my lap and patiently calmly wiggle like a damn fool while I hitch up her bra. 

*MeTurnIntoEvilDemonBeastDammit!RunAndRunUntilYouTurnToButter!*

Eventually, I wrangle her into submission.

*NoYouDid'tDammit!ToldYouI'dEatYourFace!Ashull!*

By the time we get to the front door, the intensity of her squealing has reached glass breaking volumes.  The pitch can be likened to a supersonic squeaking of air being released from a giant ballon.  Our neighbor, Steve was leaving his house for a run as we passed in front of his house.  As he galloped past he said, "I thought a dog had been hit by a car!"  No, I replied, "Simone is just happy to be going on her run," as Zali and I stopped so he could relieve himself on the fire hydrant, oak tree and the fence of some barking dogs.

*See?MeStopDammit!SQUIRRRRREEELLLONGROUND!

YANKDADDEE"SARMOUTGETTINGIT!*

Oh, for the love of dog.

Dinner is Served

Last Tuesday was our fourteeth anniversary.  It was a joyful day.  The air was lovely and cool.  The sun shone as brightly as it did those many years ago.

We dined at Itta Bena for dinner.  That's the quaint little speak easy on the third floor of BB King's on Beale Street.   Zali and Simone were distraught that we left them at home like they were animals, but we explained that this was our special day.  They accepted it with restraint.  Meaning, of course, they stood in the picture window of the sunroom and pouted as we turned out of the driveway.

The food was as good as the company. 

We sampled the fried avocado stuffed with crabmeat.  The silky warm avocado was a nice surprise against the sweet crab.  A cup of she crab soup appetizer was creamy and stocked with tender bites of shellfish.  We devoured those without thinking of photographing them for... (No, Zali not to torture you with a a later time.  Hush!)...prosperity.  For dinner, we chose the shrimp and grits.  The smoky grilled jumbo shrimp nestled atop a pillow of sweet potato grits were devine.

Hud decided to have his favorite, the duck and waffles.  I know it sounds crazy but the dish is to die for!  A succulent duck leg quarter proudly tops a wild rice waffle drizzled in a heavenly blueberry/hosin reduction. It is showered with a flurry of sweet potato crisps.

This face explains why we didn't get to photograph the appetizers.

I believe that's what is referred to as, "hungry eyes".

 

*Love you with all of my heart, Hud!  Thanks for the fantastic evening. 

And the terrific, magical life.*