Tag Archives: friends

Turkey day thanks!

While I try not make sure everyone in my life knows how important they are every day of the year, it doesn’t hurt to take a moment to contemplate the important things in life.

I am thankful for coffee. Just kidding. While I am thankful global warming has not yet obliterated coffee and chocolate, it ranks way below people.

Sometimes holidays can be hard. While the reasons vary, a common one is that people we loved are no longer with us or are far away. I’m thankful for all the loved ones in my life, whether they have left this life or life has taken them far away. People we know add love to our hearts. They give us a piece of theirs and in return we give them a piece of ours. So even when they die or are not with you, you always have that bit of them with you. That’s important to remember. We are better, more complete souls for all of the love given and received.

So while I gather tonight with my most wonderful husband, my crazy crew of children and extended family, I will also remember all of my friends and family far away and long gone. Thank you for all the love that has brought me to this point in my life.

*Hubby asked if I mentioned sleep. I do admit, I am really, really thankful for sleep.


It’s a Small World

Oh, and the song isn’t stuck in your head now? Here, let me help with that:

You know what they say, misery loves company, and I got that stuck in my head while showering this morning.


Facebook, of course, because that’s the kind of seductive evil it likes to commit. (Yes, I use FB, and rather frequently. Of course, I never claimed to be good.)

So, yesterday, a friend, whom I know through Soup King, spotted a comment left by one of my writer friends, and it turns out he knew him from way back when the writer friend trained in Kung Fu.

It’s said that we are connected to other people by six degrees of separation.Β  If so, then the people around me prefer to cut to the chase and leap ahead a few degrees, because this is not the first time friends were connected independently of me and by only one or perhaps two degrees of separation, or that I shared an unknown connection.

When I met soup king I later discovered he once worked at my favorite book store and at least once we met briefly as he handled my book purchases. In addition his Reiki teacher knew my karate sensei and was good friends with his (then) wife.

One of my writer group friends had siblings in my karate class. One day she showed up to pick them up and we stared at each other as the shock of seeing someone in an unexpected location rattled our memory cells.

Soup King lived in my neighborhood as a kid, as did his cousin. One of his friends still lives down the street from me.

Early on in my Facebook experience I reconnected with some old high school friends, as I think many people do. I attended two separate high schools in two different suburban areas on opposite sides of Houston. One day as I perused FB posts I saw a face from one school and through a series of clicks tried to figure out how friends from school B knew friends from school A. It wasn’t just one friend but literally a set from one that knew a couple from the other school. I finally asked one from school A how she knew them and it turned out they all went to the same college and she had no idea I knew them from high school. I found it extremely amusing and proof that similar geeky/nerdy souls seek each other out. How else can one explain those individuals, in a school of over 30,000 people, all of various majors, finding and becoming friends?

While working in my first chemistry job as a part-time quality control chemist for a local janitorial supply company, I interacted regularly with a salesman for a regional bulk chemical supplier. Six months into my job, after a random conversation about names and people misspelling them, we both realized we were related. He was my cousin’s husband, but had not seen me since I was an infant, so he didn’t put two and two together for awhile.

In college I was chatting with my adviser, and once again a conversation about names clued us in to a mutual connection. He had gone to grade school with my aunt. She claimed he had a crush on her and chased her around the desks at eighth grade graduation. He denied it, but I can tell when people are lying….he was so lying.

In writing this blog, it occurs to me that Soup King and I have had a number of connections, as if the universe figured that if we bounced around in the same circles enough we were bound to meet. One could almost theorize that perhaps we were meant to meet. πŸ™‚


Small voices, loud barks, pleading meows atΒ  all hours;

Smiling faces, wagging tails, purring cats;

Hot showers, sweet chocolate, good food;

These are a few of the things for which I give thanks.

Far away or near at hand,

Family or friend,

Past and current,

You are my reason for Thanksgiving!


Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Like Mother, Like Daughter

I think we all have that one story from way back when that our friends tell over, and over, and over again. Mine goes like this:

In eighth grade I was walking from lunch with my friends Emily and Nick. We were chatting about something as we headed for class. Unbeknownst to me, Ben was coming up behind us. His and Nick’s favorite pastime was goosing me. Mostly I think because no matter now many times they did it, I squealed every single time.

Ben, of course, goosed me. Only this time, he caught me so off guard that I dropped all my books on the floor. Even worse, the vice principal was mere feet away and looking at me. I pretty much collapsed to the ground in a fit of embarrassed laughter. I suspect the VP was wondering if she needed to call men in white coats.

To this day, in the presence of those two hooligans, I still keep an eye out for possible goosing opportunities. Unfortunately for them, I have a mean back kick now. πŸ™‚

Friday when I went to pick up the girls from daycare, Miss Diva was bouncing a ball with a friend. I snuck up and goosed her. She not only squealed, but hit the ground as if ducking for cover, only sprawled. In that moment, just in case I had any doubts, I confirmed that my daughter does indeed take after me.

Maybe I should teach her how to throw a back kick.



Knock! Knock!

I think my children believe we live on a deserted island. Well, maybe that’s taking it a bit far, but whenever someone comes over they get more hyped than if I handed them the sugar jar and let them devour the entire five pounds of crystalline energy. Most of my friends and relatives live far away or, like me, have busy, bustling lives and coordinating schedules for visits requires monumental effort. So while not a weekly event, I HAVE invited people over. Although, in the years prior to my divorce, people rarely came over. My ex was not exactly Mr. Social. So, I suppose, the changes in our social life could cause some excitement.

When I met Soup King, little by little, we began having some of his friends come over for dinner, and sometimes play boardgames. Since he’s a guy, most of his friends that he hangs out with are male (not all, but most). I have boundless depths of sympathy for the men who have braved the gauntlet of my kids. For awhile they felt the need haze each new male friend by the interactive jungle gym experience. What’s that you ask? If the poor guy survived three not so tiny children climbing him, and successfully wrestled free with good humor, the children deemed him “fun”.

Then comes the EXAM! The subject under investigation must have at least passing knowledge of anime and computer/console gaming. If he can do martial arts, he’s proclaimed “awesome”, with the caveat that he may have to fight me and “Mom” can probably kick his butt. I generally protest being dragged into this process, and I probably could kick a few butts, but I save my roundhouse for those who deserve them. πŸ˜‰

Once the victim friend has passed their inspection, they revert to merely careening around the house like hyper maniacs, shrieking with joy at the person’s arrival, unless of course I made them clean. In which case, they sulk and complain about having people over and the horrors of cleaning.

Having a critter horde can also complicate a social life. I have one friend I’d love to have over, but she’s deathly allergic to cats. I have five: end of all possibilities of her ever visiting the house. Zeke is friendly, once he overcomes the innate skittish temperament inherent to many small dogs, and is given a few minutes to adjust to the fact that other people are in HIS house. Marble must be introduced in a controlled environment, and if it’s a lot of people or small children, I usually just put her in a room away from the activity. Her OCD need to protect the house and more specifically, me, can at times be a bit much. Millie, thankfully, is fine with just about everyone.

Now, toss in the variable of visiting critters which come WITH their owner! I dog-sat once before I had Zeke or Millie.

The awesome, adorable, and spoiled Awen

It took three days before Awen and Marble decided not to kill each other. Well, Marble really didn’t plan on killing her. She just pinned her to the ground with one paw and waited until Awen admitted her obvious superiority. Poor Awen sulked until Mama came back and rescued her from the mean alpha dog.

More recently, Red has come to visit with his owner, Mr. Comedian, as the kids have dubbed him.

Half pitt-bull, half mastiff...he's one BIG dog.

Much to his owner’s credit, this dog is VERY well trained in spite of his bad start in life. Mr. Comedian adopted him from the Humane Society. His prior owners had lovingly allowed his chain collar to grow into his skin. Given his breed mix and abusive start in life, if not for the excellent training Mr. Comedian has given him, this gentle giant could have ended up being a nasty, ill-mannered dog. His instincts say “CHASE THE CAT!!!!”Β  every time he happens to see one of my lot. Yet, he sits by his master or me when we tell him to while someone else removes the cat to another room. Smart kitties know to stay far away from the behemoth that has intruded upon their territory. Well, all but the kitten, who gets locked in the bathroom for the duration. She’d probably walk right up to him and bat at his tail.

Of course when he first arrives, this is my translation of what ensues:

Red: “Ooh, it’s the house with people and noms and dogs!” [tail wag]

Zeke: “OMG, OMG, OMG. ADOGADOGADOG! [Grr, bark, wag] It’s my kitchen, but want to play? My kitchen. Play? My kitchen. Play? OMG human TOOOO! Play?”

Millie: [Yawn]

Marble: “Let me out of my crate. I will take you down, giant red intruder! MOM there’s a GUY IN HERE!!!! And a DOG!!!!!”

Red: [Looks at Marble and yawns.]

Marble: [whimper, bark] Please let me out? The giant dog might eat you. I know he’s twice my size, but I can totally take him. Please, please, please let me out.”

Zeke: [jumps around in his crate] My kitchen! Play? My kitchen! Play?

Millie: zzzzz.


Zeke and Red have played together. Zeke tears around the yard while Red bounds a couple of steps and then just waits for Zeke to come back. At some point we’ll probably let Marble officially meet Red while both are on leash. Put that on my list of things that could give me a heart attack or earn a facepalm for stressing over nothing.