October is a month loaded with birthdays in our family — fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, boyfriends, aunts, uncles — today is my dad’s 85th, so despite the pouring rain, we went off to breakfast first thing this morning, and one thing I learned the hard way is never reveal that it’s my dad’s birthday when you are out to eat. That was a lesson learned a few years ago, and I will NEVER make that mistake again. For some reason, regardless of how old we are, why do we still feel like kids with our parents? Can we ever be anything else?
Tuesday afternoon was cozy thunderstorms and a good mystery recommended by my boss. It’s one of the bonuses of my job — working with fellow history and art geeks I can swap book and DVD recommendations with. Science and Math have their place, but the fact that they’ve essentially usurped the Humanities (at least here in the States) is indeed a sad loss. Poetry can be had via Math and Science but for me, that means a recipe (formula/equation), measuring ingredients (Math) and their combined chemistry (Science) baked into a delicious treat — to accompany that book I’m reading, naturally.
Autumn Sunday evenings when the light sparkles just so are meant for me curling up with a cozy mystery starring Victorian feminist naturalists of independent means, while first thing the following morning is an Irish breakfast with me Da’ and my Toyboy when I am anything but bright-eyed. Hoping your week is off to a stellar start.
And snap, just like that, another season has flown by here in the Northern hemisphere and now we are falling into one of my favorite times of the year, Autumn — when the light shifts and shimmies, shivers and plays tricks with imagination, the veil thins, spirits revive, and for those of us tapped into it, personal mystical power reawakens from its sultry summer slumber. Mabon/Mea’n Fo’mhair arrives for 2021. Yes! It must be the Season of the Witch.
Today is Oonagh’s one year adoptiversary and we are all still hanging in together so I guess it’s safe to say it’s a good match. I figure she can start the day with scrambled eggs and Clonakilty pudding, and maybe finish it with her very own dish of ice cream. I try to be careful you know because I don’t like to spoil her. How do you celebrate your pet’s special day?
Truth of the matter is: some days you just need to get a good buzz on, for whatever the reason. Sometimes escape just doesn’t come soon enough or easily enough, so finding it in a good bottle of Westport Rivers Pinot Gris made with North Fork, Long Island grapes’ll have to do. Eau du terroir in a glass. And yesterday it was a delicious way to celebrate the birthday of @falkenflug and @lindylouloulou while anticipating tonight’s museum opening exhibit and next week’s escape to Utica. Because, you know? Canals, railroads, history, and old rust belt cities shared with kin — might not float everyone’s boat, but baby…it is my kinda jam.
Well, it took the Lecter mask and a double dose of meds to completely sedate Oonagh. She was a limp biscuit on her way into the house, carried from the car, tongue hanging out. She’s healthy and all is well, but I have to admit it is hard seeing her with her lights out, and I am thankful it’s only temporary. She has a splendid marrow bone waiting for her as a treat when she’s fully recovered from the anesthesia, but in the meantime, I suppose I should enjoy the quiet time until then.
Oonagh’s off to the vet this afternoon for her annual checkup…er, wait a minute…wasn’t that last week? Why, yes it was. Appointments during the pandemic-era are handled differently than they used to be. Call vet when you arrive on-site with pet. Tell them color and make of car and pet’s name. When exam room is available, tech will come out and escort you and pet directly into room after weigh-in. Weigh-in is perfect. Oonagh’s so smart as she steps on and sits on scale. Proceed to room. Tech leaves to gather more info while you wait. Overheard while waiting: “It’s Luna! No, it’s Oonagh! No, it’s Luna! No, Oonagh! Luna! Oonagh! Luna! What kind of car? Black Subaru.” Tech returns to room, “Is your dog’s name Luna or Oonagh? No, it’s Oonagh.” Tech leaves and returns to proceed with visit. Oh yes, she’s just so cute, big smiles, wiggly butt, gonna be your best friend. (Oonagh, not Vet Tech.)Yes, at the time the appointment was made it was mentioned she can go a bit ballistic and may need pre-medication/sedation. Tech leaves again, returns with second tech in tow. Oonagh is muzzled with a laughable muzzle that does nothing to prevent major jaw action, while techs struggle to manage procedure with an off-the-charts agile, acrobatic, Olympic-worthy Border Collie. Techs say they need to leave and “regroup.” They leave. Several minutes go by. They never return. However, the office manager does, with profuse apologies. There are new staff members, Oonagh’s appointment should have been scheduled as a new patient, meet-and-greet visit; two dogs, one named Oonagh, the other Luna, should not have been scheduled at the same time, and Oonagh’s excellence in agility trials should also have been noted. Hence, her appointment rescheduled for this afternoon when she will be properly sedated, and we will use the Hannibal Lecter mask she came with. It’s up to the vet staff whether or not they have their HazMat gear.
Today I’m remembering labor activists, loyal union members and the many who fought and continue to fight for living wages, social justice and humane working conditions for all. One of my favorite photos is of Marty’s dad and his fellow members of Steamfitters Local 818 all decked out in suits attending their executive board meeting. I’d like to honor them this Labor Day.