This is a really long, painful post. You have been warned.
For those that are new, I've often been told that my family is a walking Oprah show.
My mom is a multiple marry-er. Not in a polygamy kind of way, but in a 1950s I'm-not-whole-without-a-husband type of way. She married her fourth husband (our third dad) when I was 6 and my brother, John, was 9. His name is Paul and he adopted us from our bio-dad. Paul is the one we consider our dad. When he and Mom got married, he had a son (Ronnie - about 20) and three daughters (Janet - 19, Marcy - 18, and Denise - 16). Denise is the only one that ever lived with us.
When the family combined, I was SO excited! A six-year-old girl with a mean older brother not only has one older sister now, but THREE?? I quickly learned that teenage girls don't want to have anything to do with a child. No big deal, kids are used to being ignored by the olders. John and I never really registered on the older kids' radar. With the age difference and the animosity of someone "replacing" their mom - understandable.
Dad and my mom divorced when I was 12 and John, 15.
Too much backstory to post here today (that was all in the late 1970s/early 1980s for Bob's sake). Ugly divorce, people were hurt. Dad and I lost touch for a long time. Then, in my 20s (1990s), we reconnected and were fairly close for a long time. I was stationed in Ft. Huachuca, AZ, then got out and lived in Tucson. Dad would visit Marcy in Flagstaff and invite me up every time. I feel that he never actually asked Marcy, but was probably just like, Hey, we should invite Ruth! And then, what's Marcy gonna say? She's gotta say yes, whether she wants to or not. She was always... civil. Never very warm toward me. And she had this weird habit of saying "my dad". Never "our dad" or, just, you know.... "dad" like a normal person. "My dad".
Inwardly, I'd always think, "Seriously? You realize John and I were children when they got married, right? That we had nothing to do with any of it? Grow the fuck up." Outwardly, I would just roll my eyes and never say anything.
When I got married (2000), I sent invitations to all the girls and Ronnie. I didn't expect them to show up for the wedding and they didn't. They didn't even RSVP (rude), but that was expected as well. Except Ronnie. He couldn't make it to the wedding, but he at least had the courtesy to RSVP.
He and I have been in touch pretty consistently since about 1997.
Flash forward to this year.
I went home to CA in June (future post). The boys and I made the trek to Yosemite (they'd never been) and I wanted them to meet my dad, too. Dad and his current wife (Lou) haven't seen them since D2 was a baby-baby. Dad's not doing well health-wise, and I wanted them to meet him before he's gone.
Shortly after we returned to CO, Ronnie emailed me and said Dad had fallen (again). He'd spent a few days in the hospital, and they believed he had some pin-strokes. Ronnie told me that there was a birthday party planned in October for Dad's 80th birthday, and if he made it that far, did I want to go? I told him that I'd love to go! He said it was going to be a surprise for Dad.
Ronnie was kind enough to buy my ticket, the car rental, and a hotel room. He said it was to be a surprise party but Dad found out, so it would just be a surprise for me to show up. Turns out, he and the girls have issues with Lou (history with her that is suspect and pre-my-mom). I told him that Lou didn't have any issues with me (no history there), but that the girls were going to be pissed at him for bringing me. (We didn't tell any of them I was going to be there.)
Ronnie flew from KY to Denver. We met in the airport, waiting for the flight that would take us to Sacramento. We had SO much great time together to talk and learn stuff about each other. The drive from Sacramento to where Dad lives (outside the North side of Yosemite) is 3 hours. We learned all kinds of backstory about each other and our respective times with Dad.
The closer we got, the more nervous I felt. I asked what the agenda was, and he said that evening (a Friday night) we were to have fish tacos at the house, and the party was Saturday night. There was to be a big breakfast on Sunday morning, then Ron and I were set to fly out Monday afternoon. We got to the house at about 7p. Dad and Lou live in a gated community. They have a rather large house in a cul-de-sac at the top of a 20% graded hill with an AMAZING view of the lake they live near. They had rented the house across the cul-de-sac for the girls and their families to stay in. I ended up staying in the 5th wheel in Dad's carport (lucky that, for reasons to be explored soon) and Ronnie stayed up the road in the room he'd rented.
Lou met us at the house and walked us across the street to the rental where everyone was. Denise was outside making a phone call, and she threw her arms around all three of us, "The wandering traveler has arrived!" We went into the house and Dad was sitting at the dinner table with his sister Elizabeth and 2 of her 3 kids - Dan and Carrie.
I said hi to Dad and he looked surprised to see me - surprise mission accomplished! Marcy walked up and said, "Wow. Hi! I haven't seen you since before you had kids!" I said, "Yea, I got all fat - it's awesome!" Denise knew who I was when Ronnie said my name, but they had to explain who I was to Janet (to be fair, she and Denise hadn't seen me since I was LITERALLY about 9 years old).
The weekend was far worse than I expected it to be. The oldest girl (Janet) said 6 words to me the whole weekend - but to give her credit, she had her two grown boys there - the oldest showing up the next day with his wife and their brand new, 8-wk-old baby boy. Marcy (who goes by Marcia (pronounced "Marseeyu") because she's not pretentious at all) was... civil. Denise was the polar opposite - she kept hugging me really hard and whispering "thank you" and "I'm sorry" but I never got a clear picture of what she was thankful for or sorry about.
Ronnie told me that the kids had bought Dad a digital frame, and they were all pitching in $20 each for it. When dinner was over on Friday night and I was going to head off to the 5th wheel to go to bed, I approached Janet and Denise who were off by themselves. I said, "Ronnie said we were all pitching in for the frame." and held out my $20. They said, "Ronnie?!?" (He actually goes by Ron now, but growing up, I knew him as Ronnie and had specifically asked which he preferred. He said it was fine for me to call him Ronnie.) I said, "Yea, you know... the brother - tall, dark hair, lives in Kentucky?" They looked at me like I killed a cat. They wouldn't take my money - wouldn't let me chip in for the frame. I blew it off and went to bed.
The next day, Marcy and Janet spent most of the day putting pic's on the frame. At the party, Denise showed a slide show that she had made of some very special pic's. For the past 30 years, Denise has been toting around about 300 slides that Dad had made over his career and lifetime. They were some really impressive stuff! She had about 70 turned into a CD, and that was that slide show.
When it was done, I waited a few minutes and told Dad that Dave had made a little movie (slide show, really) of our little family. At the end it, there was a 10 second movie of the kids saying happy birthday to him. I put it in the same computer used to show Denise's CD and about 30 seconds in to the 3 minute show, Denise said, "Let's do the cake!" and it got cut short for cake. Ohhhkay.
After cake, they had him open his gifts. The digital frame was a big hit and with a BUNCH of preloaded pics. The kids as children, the weddings, the grandkids. But not ONE of me, or John, or my wedding, or my kids. Nice.
After that frame show ended, I was done. I headed off to the 5th wheel, thanking STARS I didn't have to wait to drive to a hotel as I cried myself to sleep. It took about 4 hours.
I got up early Sunday morning. I knew Dad's always been an early riser and hoped to catch him alone for a bit. Success. I had some things I wanted to say to him, and I said them. I explained that having 3 dads by the time I was six meant that, conceptually, I really didn't even know what the word meant. I explained that he really taught John and I what the word meant. I said that our time with him was the best part of our childhood, and he was the only person we ever considered our dad. I explained why we decided to go live with Mom (initially, we'd decided to live with him, but his next wife (Sue) was batshit insane and scared us off). Other things were said, too. It was all positive, and the only reason I'd come to this nightmare weekend.
The Sunday breakfast went well. Until after it. Marcy missed breakfast. She had brought her son Nick (he's 17 and the last time I saw him, he was 5) and her neighbors - this really lovely couple, Jake and Sue (I suck at names, but that's what I remember them as). When Marcy showed up, she sat next to me, and Sue asked her where she'd been all morning. She said, "I spent the morning putting more pics on the digital frame. We took some shots of the new great-grandbaby [Janet's grandson] and I wanted to get those on there along with some more of the shots from when we were kids."
I'm sitting RIGHT NEXT to her while she says this. Of course, I start crying again. So I just leave and go sit on the porch across the street since everyone else is still at Dad's.
The longer I sat there, the madder I got. I sit there thinking, "Is it that they realize and don't care or that they don't even care enough to realize? And which would be worse??" I realized, too, that it wasn't just the girls. Dad was just as bad. He and his wife Lou have this HUGE lakehouse with framed pics of everyone all over the house. But, again, not one single pic of John or me or my wedding, or my kids. Nice.
The weekend wasn't a complete horror. I don't know if they were assigned to me, but Aunt Elizabeth and her two grown kids spent a lot of time with me (as well as Ronnie). We had lunch together and sat together at meals. It was really nice to meet them (again, last time I saw any of them, I was a small child), and Carrie and I really hit it off!
Most of the people left late afternoon on Sunday. I don't think I took a full breath until they were all gone, and it was just Ronnie, Dad and Lou, and me.
Monday morning, the four of us went to breakfast at this really nice little cafe. Then we went back to the house. Ronnie and I put our stuff in the car and hung around the house for a bit. Ronnie was trying his hardest to put Dave's CD of our family slide show on the digital frame, but it wasn't working (I suspect it was a different format than what the frame could take). I told him to forget about it, and we prepared to leave. He went to the bathroom and I walked over to say goodbye to Dad.
Do you want to know his parting words to me?
Dad: I need you to promise me something.
Me: OK.
I'm expecting, "Let's keep in touch more." Or, "Give the boys a hug for me." Instead I got this:
Dad: You need to take better care of yourself.
Me: Excuse me?
Dad: You need to lose some weight. All that extra weight isn't doing your heart any good.
Me: Wow. That's awesome. Thanks for that.
Lou: [coming out of the kitchen]: What happened?
Me: Dad just told me to lose some weight. So that's nice.
Then I went off - "You need to promise ME something. You need to put up pictures of your WHOLE family. Do you even HAVE a picture of John?? I KNOW you have pictures of us, because I've sent you some pics and emailed others. You need to tell Lou not to introduce me as your STEPdaughter." and various other angry things.
"I get the girls ignoring John and I - acting like we never existed and we aren't a part of this family. I don't understand why or when you started doing it again. ["Again" referring to the time after the divorce.] This party wasn't a surprise party. You KNEW it was coming. When were you going to invite John and I? When were you going to let us know this weekend was even happening so we could make arrangements to be here?"
Lou said, "Marcy was in charge of contacting people. We didn't think you could afford it."
Me: "Which is it? Did Marcy not contact us, or was it that YOU thought John and I couldn't afford it? It can't really be both. If it was Marcy - did you ASK her to contact us? Did you make sure she DID contact us? And as far as knowing if we can afford it - how would you know?"
"When I got married, I KNEW the girls wouldn't come, but as a common courtesy, I invited them because they ARE a part of my family - even if they don't want to acknowledge it."
"You know what? This is stupid."
And then I walked out.
Somewhere in the middle of my rant, Ronnie came out of the bathroom. I told him what Dad said to me as I walked out of the house. He stayed in the house, talking to Lou. Dad came out with me (very slowly as he can't get around that well with his walker). When Dad walked up next to me, he said, "Can you understand where I'm coming from?" I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "That extra weight is really not doing your heart any good." I was boggled. Then I remembered what a friend told me she tells her FIL when her FIL gets stupid like that - I said, "Something to think about." and walked around the corner where he couldn't see me anymore.
Ronnie was in the house, talking to Lou, for about 15 minutes more before he came out. I don't know what was said, but Ronnie and I both left in tears. Awesome.
We both agreed that the only time we'd ever go back there was for a funeral.
Ronnie called Dad later and told him to apologize. He did. Sort of. He called to apologize, but what he said was, "I'm sorry you took it that way.", not "I'm sorry I said that hurtful thing" (paraphrasing, of course). Then in the same breath, he said it AGAIN, "But that extra weight isn't doing your heart any good". At that point, I just started laughing because it got so stupid it was funny!
I told Ronnie about the call. I also said, "I hate change, so it's good to see some things never do!"
Back with the only family that matters, Ruth!
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
J is for Jealous
Then there's this....
Star Trek Skein + Pattern Swap
I didn’t recieve it because my post office is completely incompetent but I’m told it contained:
“There was 1 pattern for the Pendragon socks, a skein of purple fingering weight, a zombie project bag, a zombies are crap at knitting bag, a set of zombie stitch markers, and a drawing.”
So bummed I didn’t get it!
I went to the post office armed with my delivery confirmation number and this was the conversation:
THEM: It was delivered.
ME: Clearly not as I don’t have it.
Repeat those last two lines for about 5 minutes until the guy gave up and got the manager. Then repeat those same 2 lines for 10 minutes again until she finally just said, “I don’t know what else to say.”
Are you F#%ing kidding me??
Again - this was month's ago! Turns out they had put the little red key in the wrong POB, just like they did a few years ago. That time there were TWELVE little red keys in the wrong POB but no one had that box. This time, someone had the box and they were nice enought to "return to sender" so I got the package eventually!
Why yes, that IS a coffin full of hot chocolate mix!
There was a metric ton of Canadian candy and she even put in 2 little goodie bags for my boys!
And she made these gorgeous bags!
And, again, TWO skeins of lovely yarn!
Casting on and on and on, Ruth!
Star Trek Skein + Pattern Swap
I didn’t recieve it because my post office is completely incompetent but I’m told it contained:
“There was 1 pattern for the Pendragon socks, a skein of purple fingering weight, a zombie project bag, a zombies are crap at knitting bag, a set of zombie stitch markers, and a drawing.”
So bummed I didn’t get it!
I went to the post office armed with my delivery confirmation number and this was the conversation:
THEM: It was delivered.
ME: Clearly not as I don’t have it.
Repeat those last two lines for about 5 minutes until the guy gave up and got the manager. Then repeat those same 2 lines for 10 minutes again until she finally just said, “I don’t know what else to say.”
Are you F#%ing kidding me??
Again - this was month's ago! Turns out they had put the little red key in the wrong POB, just like they did a few years ago. That time there were TWELVE little red keys in the wrong POB but no one had that box. This time, someone had the box and they were nice enought to "return to sender" so I got the package eventually!
Then in April, I was in the Beltane Vampire Swap and got these goodies!
There was also some soaps and candy and a bunch of other goodies (if you look at the top pic, you can see some of them crowded around that cute bag)!
Then I was in a swap that was.... meh. I won't say which one it was or what I got, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I will say it was very... big box store. Not that there's really anything wrong with that, but I love when people support their LYS and small etsy-type places. Another person in the same swap got a package that was actually subpar from what everyone else received. It wasn't even really the bare minimum. I felt bad for her and reached out after the swap was over. I wanted to send her some goodies to make up since it was her first swap and didn't want her to give up on them. We ended up having our own mini-swap with the same theme! I haven't had a chance to take pic's of that but believe me - we hooked each other up! She sent me TWO skeins of really good yarn, 3 patterns and a bunch of goodies, including a really beautiful lace cowl that buttons up the side!
Then it's been so long since I started this post back in March/April (Feb?), that it's now time for the Halloween Vampire Swap!
There was a metric ton of Canadian candy and she even put in 2 little goodie bags for my boys!
And she made these gorgeous bags!
And, again, TWO skeins of lovely yarn!
I'm so lucky!Casting on and on and on, Ruth!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
I is for Impatient
I know. It happens so rarely! I'm usually such a patient, rational being. But here's the thing. I believe I've spoken before about the dogs in the house behind us? And I believe I've mentioned that I use the term "house" rather loosely as these are townhomes (condos?), and we are all right on top of each other. I can see into the backyards of about six other people's homes and they can all see into our little back patio space.
The woman behind me with the dogs (K) is about to get dealt with (as my husband would cheesily say).
In case I can't find the previous post (or you don't feel like reading it), I'll recap. She has 2 large-ish dogs. One has curly hair and is the size of a standard poodle, the other looks to be an Alsatian mutt (think white German Shepherd). These are not small dogs. When the owners forget to close the dog door while they are not at home, those 2 dogs are out in their yard every few minutes barking non-stop. And howling.
When I initially talked to her I told this:
In the interest of full disclosure, we have a cat that spends a lot of time outside, walking along the tops of the fences, so I realize that he may be sparking some barking [I didn't actually rhyme at the time. Ack, just did it again!]. I also want you to know that I've called Animal Control to see what my options are. They said I needed to make note of the times and length of duration on the barking. Here's what I have in the past week.
I handed her the extensive list. I explained that Animal Control also said I'd have to write a letter and have a neighbor sign as verification on that letter. I told her that the old couple I share a wall with had complained to me about her dogs, so I asked if they'd sign and they said yes. I said, "I asked them a week ago. Apparently they've told others because since I asked them, I've had EIGHT people knock on my door asking if they could sign too." I also explained that I worked from home and the company I work for has a No Tolerance For Background Noise Policy and I can't lose my job because her dogs are barking.
This conversation took place over a year ago to try to politely ask that she keeps the barking in check. At the time, she gave me her phone # and asked me to text if the dogs were going off and promised she'd take care of it. I've had to text her at least once a month for the past year.
I've had to text her three times in less than 7 days now.
Last Thursday I was working and some lady was in K's backyard riling the dogs up ON PURPOSE for about 15 minutes. I texted:
There's someone in your backyard riling up your dogs. I wouldn't care but I'm working.
She txted back that it was a friend of hers from out of town. The friend must've been mad about me txting because over the next hour, she'd bring the dogs out every 5 minutes and play with them. Not letting them bark but SHE was shouting, carousing with them, and being loud. Childish much? She also was playing tug of war with them and the dogs were grunting and growling and she was grunting and growling back and it sounded for all the world as though they were having sex. I just had to laugh thinking, "Lady, would you mind taking the bestiality indoors please? There's children present!"
If you've been here at all the last year, you know that I have a 70 hour week. I work until 11p and have to get up at 6:30a to either go to school or back to work at my little desk in our bedroom. The ONLY night I get to go to sleep whenever I wish (and sleep in as long as I like) is Saturday night.
Last Saturday night, those fucking dogs barked from 10p to 1a when I finally had enough and went to pound on their door. Dave said not to bother as they obviously weren't home. I couldn't help it. I had to try. It was very dark out, so I also wanted to make 100% sure it was K's dogs before I made trouble. The lights were on but no answer. It was her dogs, though, no mistake. I came back to my house and texted her....
ME: Your dogs have been going off for the past 3 hours. Seriously can't sleep with them losing it every few minutes. Please FIX this.
K: I am out of town.... will try to find roomate
Then a few minutes later...
K: To my knowledge there seems to be a cat in heat that is making a lot of noise late at nght and in the morning.
Me: Can't control that. Neither can you. What you CAN control is YOUR dog's barking. Get them some training, get them bark collars or muzzles.
About 10 minutes later, they shut up.
The next day she texts me:
K: Ruth, really sorry about last night. My roommmate drank a little too much last night and didn't want to drive home... we have a bark collar so I told him if he is going to leave the pet door open that collars go on...again sorry for the inconvenience.
I just txted back - Thx.
Then today. Oh, today.
It's getting warm here in CO and we have to have our windows open or the upstairs cooks. I don't know what CO's aversion to ceiling fans would be, but they are few and far btw. The thermostat is downstairs which is ten degrees cooler than upstairs so even if we turned on the AC, it wouldn't do much for upstairs.
So I've got our windows open and of course those fucking dogs start going off. The really messed up thing is that they are actively barking AT US. If we walk around in our room or when they hear us talking, they are in their backyard like a flash, barking and howling at the fence inbetween us.
I try to be patient but after 2 hours (and one customer asking if there's a dog IN THE ROOM with me), I text her again...
Me: 3rd time in less than 7 days. My customers can hear and I will get FIRED if my boss hears or hears about it. Patience is thinning rapidly....
K: Ruth, I have been gone all day at a conference downtown... my daughters must have forgotten to shut the dog door when they left. I have complied and apologized for every sound they make. They are dogs and happen to bark when they see a cat or a bird or other dogs.... it's only natural. I can only do my best and somtimes it's not perfect. You complained the other night because we were playing with them in the backyard way after work hours. I can't always manage your work hours, your windows open and when my dogs are allowed to go outside... it's not fair. It's a residence not an office park... they have been good for a very long time. Please try to understand it's not intentional...
I don't like bothering peole, I'm a friendly person... but the other night outside playing with my dogs was little bit much. What if I had small children that played outside and made noise? I will take care of the issue like I always do... I guess the part that bothers me so much is that you are somewhat rude about it and it puts me in a defensive position. Being friendly when issues arrive solves problems instead of making it worse.
ME: The lady on the other side of us has 2 fat chihuahuas that fight and bark. But after a bark or 2, she goes out there and takes care of it. K, if it were a bark or 2 here or there then yes, dogs bark and it's a residence. Pretty sure you know that's NOT what your dogs do. It's the sustained, unchecked barking and howling off and on for hours at a time that makes me text. If I seem rude, it may be because, to me, it seems very rude to be so careless with one's pets, allowing them to CONTINUALLY make so much noise. They are not children, they are dogs. If you think I'm rude now, let them bark btw 10p and 7a EVER again and we'll see if the cops think I'm rude. How many times in the past year have we had this txt conversation?? More than once is too many and I'm done. I'm not the only neighbor sick of hearing them. I'm just the only one with your phone #.
I haven't heard much out of them since then. Fingers crossed I never will again.
I wrote the above in April. After the texting war, I never heard those dogs bark again. AND, I'd see them in the backyard. Previously, EVERY time they were in the backyard, they'd be barking. After the texting war, I'd see them back there and they'd be just as silent as you please! Then sometime in July, the dogs seem to have disappeared. We thought maybe they moved out, but their grill and other yard stuff is still there.
Either way, I shoulda called the cops on that bitch a year ago.
Enjoying the silence, Ruth!
The woman behind me with the dogs (K) is about to get dealt with (as my husband would cheesily say).
In case I can't find the previous post (or you don't feel like reading it), I'll recap. She has 2 large-ish dogs. One has curly hair and is the size of a standard poodle, the other looks to be an Alsatian mutt (think white German Shepherd). These are not small dogs. When the owners forget to close the dog door while they are not at home, those 2 dogs are out in their yard every few minutes barking non-stop. And howling.
When I initially talked to her I told this:
In the interest of full disclosure, we have a cat that spends a lot of time outside, walking along the tops of the fences, so I realize that he may be sparking some barking [I didn't actually rhyme at the time. Ack, just did it again!]. I also want you to know that I've called Animal Control to see what my options are. They said I needed to make note of the times and length of duration on the barking. Here's what I have in the past week.
I handed her the extensive list. I explained that Animal Control also said I'd have to write a letter and have a neighbor sign as verification on that letter. I told her that the old couple I share a wall with had complained to me about her dogs, so I asked if they'd sign and they said yes. I said, "I asked them a week ago. Apparently they've told others because since I asked them, I've had EIGHT people knock on my door asking if they could sign too." I also explained that I worked from home and the company I work for has a No Tolerance For Background Noise Policy and I can't lose my job because her dogs are barking.
This conversation took place over a year ago to try to politely ask that she keeps the barking in check. At the time, she gave me her phone # and asked me to text if the dogs were going off and promised she'd take care of it. I've had to text her at least once a month for the past year.
I've had to text her three times in less than 7 days now.
Last Thursday I was working and some lady was in K's backyard riling the dogs up ON PURPOSE for about 15 minutes. I texted:
There's someone in your backyard riling up your dogs. I wouldn't care but I'm working.
She txted back that it was a friend of hers from out of town. The friend must've been mad about me txting because over the next hour, she'd bring the dogs out every 5 minutes and play with them. Not letting them bark but SHE was shouting, carousing with them, and being loud. Childish much? She also was playing tug of war with them and the dogs were grunting and growling and she was grunting and growling back and it sounded for all the world as though they were having sex. I just had to laugh thinking, "Lady, would you mind taking the bestiality indoors please? There's children present!"
If you've been here at all the last year, you know that I have a 70 hour week. I work until 11p and have to get up at 6:30a to either go to school or back to work at my little desk in our bedroom. The ONLY night I get to go to sleep whenever I wish (and sleep in as long as I like) is Saturday night.
Last Saturday night, those fucking dogs barked from 10p to 1a when I finally had enough and went to pound on their door. Dave said not to bother as they obviously weren't home. I couldn't help it. I had to try. It was very dark out, so I also wanted to make 100% sure it was K's dogs before I made trouble. The lights were on but no answer. It was her dogs, though, no mistake. I came back to my house and texted her....
ME: Your dogs have been going off for the past 3 hours. Seriously can't sleep with them losing it every few minutes. Please FIX this.
K: I am out of town.... will try to find roomate
Then a few minutes later...
K: To my knowledge there seems to be a cat in heat that is making a lot of noise late at nght and in the morning.
Me: Can't control that. Neither can you. What you CAN control is YOUR dog's barking. Get them some training, get them bark collars or muzzles.
About 10 minutes later, they shut up.
The next day she texts me:
K: Ruth, really sorry about last night. My roommmate drank a little too much last night and didn't want to drive home... we have a bark collar so I told him if he is going to leave the pet door open that collars go on...again sorry for the inconvenience.
I just txted back - Thx.
Then today. Oh, today.
It's getting warm here in CO and we have to have our windows open or the upstairs cooks. I don't know what CO's aversion to ceiling fans would be, but they are few and far btw. The thermostat is downstairs which is ten degrees cooler than upstairs so even if we turned on the AC, it wouldn't do much for upstairs.
So I've got our windows open and of course those fucking dogs start going off. The really messed up thing is that they are actively barking AT US. If we walk around in our room or when they hear us talking, they are in their backyard like a flash, barking and howling at the fence inbetween us.
I try to be patient but after 2 hours (and one customer asking if there's a dog IN THE ROOM with me), I text her again...
Me: 3rd time in less than 7 days. My customers can hear and I will get FIRED if my boss hears or hears about it. Patience is thinning rapidly....
K: Ruth, I have been gone all day at a conference downtown... my daughters must have forgotten to shut the dog door when they left. I have complied and apologized for every sound they make. They are dogs and happen to bark when they see a cat or a bird or other dogs.... it's only natural. I can only do my best and somtimes it's not perfect. You complained the other night because we were playing with them in the backyard way after work hours. I can't always manage your work hours, your windows open and when my dogs are allowed to go outside... it's not fair. It's a residence not an office park... they have been good for a very long time. Please try to understand it's not intentional...
I don't like bothering peole, I'm a friendly person... but the other night outside playing with my dogs was little bit much. What if I had small children that played outside and made noise? I will take care of the issue like I always do... I guess the part that bothers me so much is that you are somewhat rude about it and it puts me in a defensive position. Being friendly when issues arrive solves problems instead of making it worse.
ME: The lady on the other side of us has 2 fat chihuahuas that fight and bark. But after a bark or 2, she goes out there and takes care of it. K, if it were a bark or 2 here or there then yes, dogs bark and it's a residence. Pretty sure you know that's NOT what your dogs do. It's the sustained, unchecked barking and howling off and on for hours at a time that makes me text. If I seem rude, it may be because, to me, it seems very rude to be so careless with one's pets, allowing them to CONTINUALLY make so much noise. They are not children, they are dogs. If you think I'm rude now, let them bark btw 10p and 7a EVER again and we'll see if the cops think I'm rude. How many times in the past year have we had this txt conversation?? More than once is too many and I'm done. I'm not the only neighbor sick of hearing them. I'm just the only one with your phone #.
I haven't heard much out of them since then. Fingers crossed I never will again.
I wrote the above in April. After the texting war, I never heard those dogs bark again. AND, I'd see them in the backyard. Previously, EVERY time they were in the backyard, they'd be barking. After the texting war, I'd see them back there and they'd be just as silent as you please! Then sometime in July, the dogs seem to have disappeared. We thought maybe they moved out, but their grill and other yard stuff is still there.
Either way, I shoulda called the cops on that bitch a year ago.
Enjoying the silence, Ruth!
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
H is for Health
Sorry I've been away for so long. It's been so hard to think of how to write this. Dave's dad's health started failing and he went downhill rather quickly. He passed in June and..... I don't know.
He had quadruple bypass surgery 44 years ago. Four years ago, he ended up in the hospital. They thought that bypass was failing, but it was actually his aorta was leaky. They wanted to replace it, but he was 80 years old and the recovery period was estimated at over a year, so he opted out. They put in a pacemaker and told him he had maybe a year left.
He lasted four years! But it caught up with him. He lost his appetite; lost a lot of weight. He started getting sicker and sicker and told the doctor he wasn't going to take any preventative measures to stop the inevitable.
He lasted about six weeks from when he started getting sick. They tried hospice at home but that only lasted about 2 weeks. He's far too large a man for the tiny wife to try to lift him if he fell. So he spent the last 10 days of his life in a nursing home.
At one point, when he was still conscious, I was feeding him (at the nursing home) and he had to stop after a few bites. He said, "Solid food is exhausting." It made me so sad!
This is a man who loves food and loves to read. He stopped going to the library for books (something he did every week). I asked my husband, "Do you think it's because he's afraid he won't be able to finish the book and not know the ending?"
This is a man of strong Christian faith. He didn't have much to leave, but he left his Bible to Trevor and some C.S. Lewis Christian book to Davis. Dave wasn't happy about, but I said, "Let it go." and he did.
Before he got really bad, I went to their place with my steno-writer and computer and asked him a bunch of questions about his life. His childhood, family, teen years, etc. His wife was sitting there making horrible comments and being really mean about it. Not sure what about it made her so damn mad, but there it was.
What made me cry the most? When he asked me how school was going for me. I said, "It's going really well!" Then he said, "I'm sorry I won't be here to see you graduate." Are you kidding me? Instant waterfall.
Things that made me mad:
When the MIL kept telling anyone that would listen what a good man he is/was. She NEVER said that to him in his lifetime. It's like she suddenly discovered it. Sad.
The boys:
When the boys were with us, visiting FIL in the nursing home, they had such different reactions. T could barely stand to be in the room w/FIL. Even when he was still lucid and fairly OK. Dave finally told him, "T. It's OK. You can't catch the old." D2, on the other hand, was by FIL's side constantly. It was very sweet. Not that T is any less sweet, he was just so sad and uncomfortable with the whole thing, he didn't know how to deal with it.
We kind of broke it to them weeks in advance. When FIL started going downhill, we sat the boys down and told them as gently as we could that Gpa was at the end of his life. The boys both broke down and sobbed. T especially. He was so heartbroken, it tore us up. It's the ONLY time I ever saw Dave tear up. Dave never cries.
Things that weirded me out:
Despite wearing jeans and T-shirts (my usual gear), a lot of the old people at the home thought I worked there. They would ask me to get them things or help them in some way or other. One woman in particular would follow me around and demand that I get her some water or whatever. What the hell?
Things that made us laugh:
T found a friend. That place was deadly boring, so we let the boys bring their nintendos. When we came out of FIL's room, he had this little old lady in a wheelchair next to him and he was showing her how to play his nintendo! Every time we visited, he'd hang out with her (Charlotte). It was very sweet.
Also, we had a run-in with a woman who had severe dementia. She stopped us and asked the way to the cafeteria. We told her, then she said, "You look like nice people. That's why I asked you. You look like nice people. Are you married?"
Dave said, "Yes."
Then, she got really incredulous, "To each other?? No. Not to each other!" and went on and on like that for a few minutes until we could ease away.
So funny!
When we visited FIL the last time, that was the worst. It was fucking awful. The home was very nice and very expensive. He got good care, but was declining so fast. The last time we saw him, he had his eyes half-open, and we couldn't tell if he was awake or sleeping; couldn't tell if he knew we were there or not.
He died that night.
We got the call at about 6:30a the next day. We told the kids when they woke up. They cried a bit, but we all knew it was for the best at that point.
Both Dave's parents have donated their bodies to science so there was no cost to the family. And after a few weeks, we got a very respectful, well-worded letter that told us what body parts went where and what research/teaching places it went to. (When I say it, it sounds gruesome, but it was a very nice letter.)
They didn't do any memorial or anything for him (he didn't want one). That was weird to me. He was funny and loved and we miss him.
Things have been rough on MIL since then. She is alone and feeling it. We see her FOUR times a week now as opposed to the two times we were seeing her before he died. Her apartment raised their rent again right before he died. So she's in a one bedroom apartment with an empty garage attached and is paying $1100 a month. We pay the same for our townhouse. We are looking for a place we can move her in with us. (Good times. Goooood times.)
I have so many things to tell you and SO many finished projects! Enough for now. I'll write more later and finish this Alphabet Soup before the year ends.
Missing him so much, Ruth!
Accidental fundraiser results: The garage sale mentioned in my last post raised $2000. The professional organization for court reporters in CO matched it! Thanks all!
He had quadruple bypass surgery 44 years ago. Four years ago, he ended up in the hospital. They thought that bypass was failing, but it was actually his aorta was leaky. They wanted to replace it, but he was 80 years old and the recovery period was estimated at over a year, so he opted out. They put in a pacemaker and told him he had maybe a year left.
He lasted four years! But it caught up with him. He lost his appetite; lost a lot of weight. He started getting sicker and sicker and told the doctor he wasn't going to take any preventative measures to stop the inevitable.
He lasted about six weeks from when he started getting sick. They tried hospice at home but that only lasted about 2 weeks. He's far too large a man for the tiny wife to try to lift him if he fell. So he spent the last 10 days of his life in a nursing home.
At one point, when he was still conscious, I was feeding him (at the nursing home) and he had to stop after a few bites. He said, "Solid food is exhausting." It made me so sad!
This is a man who loves food and loves to read. He stopped going to the library for books (something he did every week). I asked my husband, "Do you think it's because he's afraid he won't be able to finish the book and not know the ending?"
This is a man of strong Christian faith. He didn't have much to leave, but he left his Bible to Trevor and some C.S. Lewis Christian book to Davis. Dave wasn't happy about, but I said, "Let it go." and he did.
Before he got really bad, I went to their place with my steno-writer and computer and asked him a bunch of questions about his life. His childhood, family, teen years, etc. His wife was sitting there making horrible comments and being really mean about it. Not sure what about it made her so damn mad, but there it was.
What made me cry the most? When he asked me how school was going for me. I said, "It's going really well!" Then he said, "I'm sorry I won't be here to see you graduate." Are you kidding me? Instant waterfall.
Things that made me mad:
When the MIL kept telling anyone that would listen what a good man he is/was. She NEVER said that to him in his lifetime. It's like she suddenly discovered it. Sad.
The boys:
When the boys were with us, visiting FIL in the nursing home, they had such different reactions. T could barely stand to be in the room w/FIL. Even when he was still lucid and fairly OK. Dave finally told him, "T. It's OK. You can't catch the old." D2, on the other hand, was by FIL's side constantly. It was very sweet. Not that T is any less sweet, he was just so sad and uncomfortable with the whole thing, he didn't know how to deal with it.
We kind of broke it to them weeks in advance. When FIL started going downhill, we sat the boys down and told them as gently as we could that Gpa was at the end of his life. The boys both broke down and sobbed. T especially. He was so heartbroken, it tore us up. It's the ONLY time I ever saw Dave tear up. Dave never cries.
Things that weirded me out:
Despite wearing jeans and T-shirts (my usual gear), a lot of the old people at the home thought I worked there. They would ask me to get them things or help them in some way or other. One woman in particular would follow me around and demand that I get her some water or whatever. What the hell?
Things that made us laugh:
T found a friend. That place was deadly boring, so we let the boys bring their nintendos. When we came out of FIL's room, he had this little old lady in a wheelchair next to him and he was showing her how to play his nintendo! Every time we visited, he'd hang out with her (Charlotte). It was very sweet.
Also, we had a run-in with a woman who had severe dementia. She stopped us and asked the way to the cafeteria. We told her, then she said, "You look like nice people. That's why I asked you. You look like nice people. Are you married?"
Dave said, "Yes."
Then, she got really incredulous, "To each other?? No. Not to each other!" and went on and on like that for a few minutes until we could ease away.
So funny!
When we visited FIL the last time, that was the worst. It was fucking awful. The home was very nice and very expensive. He got good care, but was declining so fast. The last time we saw him, he had his eyes half-open, and we couldn't tell if he was awake or sleeping; couldn't tell if he knew we were there or not.
He died that night.
We got the call at about 6:30a the next day. We told the kids when they woke up. They cried a bit, but we all knew it was for the best at that point.
Both Dave's parents have donated their bodies to science so there was no cost to the family. And after a few weeks, we got a very respectful, well-worded letter that told us what body parts went where and what research/teaching places it went to. (When I say it, it sounds gruesome, but it was a very nice letter.)
They didn't do any memorial or anything for him (he didn't want one). That was weird to me. He was funny and loved and we miss him.
Things have been rough on MIL since then. She is alone and feeling it. We see her FOUR times a week now as opposed to the two times we were seeing her before he died. Her apartment raised their rent again right before he died. So she's in a one bedroom apartment with an empty garage attached and is paying $1100 a month. We pay the same for our townhouse. We are looking for a place we can move her in with us. (Good times. Goooood times.)
I have so many things to tell you and SO many finished projects! Enough for now. I'll write more later and finish this Alphabet Soup before the year ends.
Missing him so much, Ruth!
Accidental fundraiser results: The garage sale mentioned in my last post raised $2000. The professional organization for court reporters in CO matched it! Thanks all!
Thursday, April 5, 2012
G is for Gretzky
Contest here
While we didn't actually see the greatest hockey player of all time, we did take the boys to a professional hockey game in February. It was actually the first pro-hockey game for Dave and I as well!
I've been to tons of hockey games. When I was a kid, our dad used to get us season tickets to the Fresno Falcons. When I was stationed in Germany, I dated a guy (another soldier) that was on the previous American Olympic Hockey team (such a nice ass!). When I lived in Tucson, I went to several of the Gila Monsters' home games (it was a very short-lived semi-pro team). I have never been to a pro game.
Dave got upper deck tix for fairly cheap off Craig's list. We ate at a nice little fast-casual Italian place nearby and we had a great time at the game! We got to watch the Colorado Avalanche cream the Anaheim Ducks. We even saw Dave Mustaine from Megadeath! (On the jumbo-tron, but he was there!)
As we were leaving, T said, "I want to play hockey!" I said, "I don't know, T. It's really expensive! There's all this equipment involved and it's really rough. I mean, you see how hard they get hit! Let's stick with basketball for now, ok? For that you only need a ball, some sneakers, and shorts!"
T said, "And a shirt with no sleeves!"
We forgot the camera (as usual) but since I posted a pic of T when he lost his front teeth in a past Alphabet Soup post called Hockey, here's a pic of D2 who has also, finally, lost his front choppers. Jeez, the kid's almost 9!
And, yes, his hair is quite long. He's been growing it for a year now. He got it in his head that he wants to participate in his school's Locks of Love thing. I think once he realized how much it irritated Dave (and Dave's mom can't seem to get over it either), it was just a bonus. I think he looks like a kid from the '70s. I really like it on him! The MIL says he's too pretty to have hair that long. And every time we go out to eat, the waitstaff always think he's a girl. D2's a bit over it now, but he's still sticking it out. Long hair (as I am far too aware) is a pain in the ass. The Locks of Love thing is happening next month and there's supposed to be a news crew there, so if he gets on TV, I'll let y'all know.
Looking into season tickets for next year, Ruth!
While we didn't actually see the greatest hockey player of all time, we did take the boys to a professional hockey game in February. It was actually the first pro-hockey game for Dave and I as well!
I've been to tons of hockey games. When I was a kid, our dad used to get us season tickets to the Fresno Falcons. When I was stationed in Germany, I dated a guy (another soldier) that was on the previous American Olympic Hockey team (such a nice ass!). When I lived in Tucson, I went to several of the Gila Monsters' home games (it was a very short-lived semi-pro team). I have never been to a pro game.
Dave got upper deck tix for fairly cheap off Craig's list. We ate at a nice little fast-casual Italian place nearby and we had a great time at the game! We got to watch the Colorado Avalanche cream the Anaheim Ducks. We even saw Dave Mustaine from Megadeath! (On the jumbo-tron, but he was there!)
As we were leaving, T said, "I want to play hockey!" I said, "I don't know, T. It's really expensive! There's all this equipment involved and it's really rough. I mean, you see how hard they get hit! Let's stick with basketball for now, ok? For that you only need a ball, some sneakers, and shorts!"
T said, "And a shirt with no sleeves!"
We forgot the camera (as usual) but since I posted a pic of T when he lost his front teeth in a past Alphabet Soup post called Hockey, here's a pic of D2 who has also, finally, lost his front choppers. Jeez, the kid's almost 9!
And, yes, his hair is quite long. He's been growing it for a year now. He got it in his head that he wants to participate in his school's Locks of Love thing. I think once he realized how much it irritated Dave (and Dave's mom can't seem to get over it either), it was just a bonus. I think he looks like a kid from the '70s. I really like it on him! The MIL says he's too pretty to have hair that long. And every time we go out to eat, the waitstaff always think he's a girl. D2's a bit over it now, but he's still sticking it out. Long hair (as I am far too aware) is a pain in the ass. The Locks of Love thing is happening next month and there's supposed to be a news crew there, so if he gets on TV, I'll let y'all know.
Looking into season tickets for next year, Ruth!
Monday, March 5, 2012
F is for Fortunate
Have you met someone or heard of someone and their story moves you to action?
My school has professionals come and speak to the students about various subjects. The first speaker I ever saw was a woman named Sylvia. She spoke to us about testing for the RPR (that's the professional licensure test). She was very clever and funny and kind.
One of the teachers told me she was having trouble with her hands and couldn't work much anymore. Some kind of accident or something.
Fast forward nearly a year....
On the 18th of February, I went to a professional luncheon to network. There were 58 people at this luncheon, all of them in the court reporting profession in some capacity. I made it my mission to speak to each and every one of them. I had student cards made up and made it known that I was looking for a mentor. Of the 58, about 15 were fellow students. One of my classmates, N, wouldn't get out of her chair. She's shy and was petrified. I had to drag her out of her corner. I told her, "N, you didn't spend $35 to eat salad. At least meet the chairwoman who is handing out mentors!" That's the only person she met.
Anyway, during this lunch, it was made known that Sylvia is in a very bad way. It took a year for a diagnosis. They initially thought she had meningitis but finally concluded it wasn't inflammation of the brain sac but of the brain itself - encephalitis.
She can no longer work. She can barely tie her own shoes. She is nearly completely invalided.
Her sister is a Ph.D. in nursing and is taking care of Sylvia. To make matters worse, they have a brother who is also very disabled and the sister is taking care of him as well. He has a house they are trying to sell (they are all living together at the sister's house) but that's not going well in this market.
They are trying to come up with fundraisers as everyone adores Sylvia because she is such a gentle, kind, helpful person. The issues are these....
In Colorado, you can't hold a raffle or a poker night because you have to be a non-profit for at least three years to hold that kind of easy, money-making fundraiser.
I couldn't get it out of my head. There had to be some way to help her. I talked with my school's director (Sue) and she said she was already planning on having some kind of small fundraiser for Sylvia at the school.
Not enough.
Thinking...... obsessing... busting out the many notebooks to start writing things down.
I hit on it pretty quick.
Why couldn't we have a good old-fashioned garage sale at the school?
School Director was right on board with that! I contacted the woman who was trying to spear-head some sort of fundraiser and she's all excited about it, too.
I'm on the committee at the school to set this in stone. Well, I kind of AM the committee.
Anyway, I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to have a good ol'-fashioned blog contest! It's been well over a year since I've had one.
I'd like to have donations of small knit items that I could sell at the garage sale. I was thinking of making really nice things to sell but with a garage sale, I'm afraid people will show up with that garage sale mentality and not be willing to spend money on that stuff.
I'd like things like....
coffee cozies
small butterflies to put on hair clips (either attach or send unattached and I'll do that part)
flowers that would make cute brooches (or more hair clips!)
I saw someone making these flowers to put in croc's
dishcloth/scrubbie sets
soaps covered in felt
Jewelry (bracelets and such)
stuffies/amigurumis
cozies for electronics/headphones
My school has professionals come and speak to the students about various subjects. The first speaker I ever saw was a woman named Sylvia. She spoke to us about testing for the RPR (that's the professional licensure test). She was very clever and funny and kind.
One of the teachers told me she was having trouble with her hands and couldn't work much anymore. Some kind of accident or something.
Fast forward nearly a year....
On the 18th of February, I went to a professional luncheon to network. There were 58 people at this luncheon, all of them in the court reporting profession in some capacity. I made it my mission to speak to each and every one of them. I had student cards made up and made it known that I was looking for a mentor. Of the 58, about 15 were fellow students. One of my classmates, N, wouldn't get out of her chair. She's shy and was petrified. I had to drag her out of her corner. I told her, "N, you didn't spend $35 to eat salad. At least meet the chairwoman who is handing out mentors!" That's the only person she met.
Anyway, during this lunch, it was made known that Sylvia is in a very bad way. It took a year for a diagnosis. They initially thought she had meningitis but finally concluded it wasn't inflammation of the brain sac but of the brain itself - encephalitis.
She can no longer work. She can barely tie her own shoes. She is nearly completely invalided.
Her sister is a Ph.D. in nursing and is taking care of Sylvia. To make matters worse, they have a brother who is also very disabled and the sister is taking care of him as well. He has a house they are trying to sell (they are all living together at the sister's house) but that's not going well in this market.
They are trying to come up with fundraisers as everyone adores Sylvia because she is such a gentle, kind, helpful person. The issues are these....
In Colorado, you can't hold a raffle or a poker night because you have to be a non-profit for at least three years to hold that kind of easy, money-making fundraiser.
I couldn't get it out of my head. There had to be some way to help her. I talked with my school's director (Sue) and she said she was already planning on having some kind of small fundraiser for Sylvia at the school.
Not enough.
Thinking...... obsessing... busting out the many notebooks to start writing things down.
I hit on it pretty quick.
Why couldn't we have a good old-fashioned garage sale at the school?
School Director was right on board with that! I contacted the woman who was trying to spear-head some sort of fundraiser and she's all excited about it, too.
I'm on the committee at the school to set this in stone. Well, I kind of AM the committee.
Anyway, I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to have a good ol'-fashioned blog contest! It's been well over a year since I've had one.
I'd like to have donations of small knit items that I could sell at the garage sale. I was thinking of making really nice things to sell but with a garage sale, I'm afraid people will show up with that garage sale mentality and not be willing to spend money on that stuff.
I'd like things like....
coffee cozies
small butterflies to put on hair clips (either attach or send unattached and I'll do that part)
flowers that would make cute brooches (or more hair clips!)
I saw someone making these flowers to put in croc's
dishcloth/scrubbie sets
soaps covered in felt
Jewelry (bracelets and such)
stuffies/amigurumis
cozies for electronics/headphones
anything for babies or pets
Sewn items are also welcome!
Things like that. Things I can sell for between $5 and $10 dollars or even for $2. Anything you can or want to make. Most of these can be made with scraps and for nearly all of the things listed, acrylicrap is fine! Anything that doesn't sell at the garage sale, I'll put in my Etsy store and give sale proceeds to Sylvia's Wells Fargo fund.
Contest goes like this...
Send me any of the above items (or similar things you think would sell) - One entry per item sent
Link this contest on any social media of your choice (including your blog, if you have one) and send me a link of your...link. - Bad grammar aside, that'll get you one entry.
Donate cash and send me proof of donation (email it to me or mail me the receipt) - one entry for every $5 donation.
Things like that. Things I can sell for between $5 and $10 dollars or even for $2. Anything you can or want to make. Most of these can be made with scraps and for nearly all of the things listed, acrylicrap is fine! Anything that doesn't sell at the garage sale, I'll put in my Etsy store and give sale proceeds to Sylvia's Wells Fargo fund.
Contest goes like this...
Send me any of the above items (or similar things you think would sell) - One entry per item sent
Link this contest on any social media of your choice (including your blog, if you have one) and send me a link of your...link. - Bad grammar aside, that'll get you one entry.
Donate cash and send me proof of donation (email it to me or mail me the receipt) - one entry for every $5 donation.
(Cash donations go here -
Wells Fargo Bank Bank by Mail
Sylvia Noneff Donation Fund
P.O. Box 3488
Portland, OR 97208
Please write on back: “For
Deposit Only.”)
Wells Fargo Bank Bank by Mail
Sylvia Noneff Donation Fund
P.O. Box 3488
Portland, OR 97208
Please write on back: “For
Deposit Only.”)
The garage sale is on Friday, May 11, 2012. I'll need these items by Monday, May 7, 2012 at the latest so I can get them all cataloged and priced.
If you are sending me items, please send them to my POB:
POB 3832
Parker, CO 80134
And my POB is a 40 minute round trip, so please email me after you've sent so I don't make a trip for no reason - hah!
Prizes:
Obviously, my Stitch Savers will be a prize. I'll give a full set of Basic for one prize.
I'll donate a skein of good sock yarn from my stash.
My friend Skeindalous will also be donating a skein of her luscious sock yarn!
Enjoying my good fortune and my good health, Ruth!
Enjoying my good fortune and my good health, Ruth!
Thursday, March 1, 2012
E is for Entitled
So Dave and I are standing outside my favorite Thai restaurant (Indochine in Parker, CO) and there's 2 women also waiting. They are dressed to the nines and talking about how some guy is not a good man, blah, blah, blah. A third woman shows up and they all squeal together.
Dave looks at me and says, "I already hate them." I laughed. Dave hates high maintenance, well... anyone. These women looked like they just stepped off the set of New Jersey Housewives.
The doors open and we all get seated. Dave and I are seated next to the big front window and the women are seated 4 tables away where they are joined by another woman.
We are sitting there waiting for initial service, as are the women. It's actually a few minutes before the sign says they open, so no one seems to mind.
I hear a strange noise like a baby crying and the late woman says, "Did you hear my baby? Do you want to see her?" and pulls her giraffe print, square purse up to the table and pulls out a dog. Dave and I look at each other, aghast. I said, "OK, now I hate them, too."
One woman takes the tiny dachshund puppy out of the other woman's bag and they all ooh and coo and ahh. The waitress walks over to give them their drinks that they already ordered. She sees the dog and very politely explains that they can't have a dog in the restaurant. The woman who owns it sounds surprised, "Oh! We can't? What if I keep him in his little cage here?" The waitress again explains, with great tact and delicacy, that unless it's a service dog, it would be a health code violation to have a dog in the restaurant. The woman, still acting all surprised like this is something new in the world, tries to give reasons and ways she can keep the dog in the restaurant. AND the other women at the table take up her case! The woman tells her friends that she will put her precious puppy in the car during lunch. They all protest saying that it's too cold and the puppy is too small for this cold weather.
The waitress listens patiently, stands firm on her position, and makes a tactful exit. The ladies stay at the table, talking like nothing happened and making no move to leave. Apparently, they asked for another opinion as the other waitress has to walk over to them and, again, very kindly and patiently, ask them to remove the dog (a fucking DOG) from the restaurant.
They snottily said, "Well! We'll just go eat somewhere else!" To which the waitress simply said a cheery, "OK". They got up and huffed out. As they were leaving (which took a few minutes of them gathering up all their assorted accoutrement), the waitress came to our table to take our order. This is Second Waitress who had to confirm for these women the facts of health code violations. Before she can speak, I say, "Wow. How entitled ARE some people??" And she whispers to me, "They are being so bitchy about it." I go on, "What was she thinking?? They can go eat elsewhere but I can't think of ANY restaurant that would risk their license for her precious puppy." She laughs and takes our order to the kitchen.
By this time, the women are outside and one of them must have heard me because she walks over to us and flips off Dave and I (remember, we are by the giant window). I laugh in her face and shake my head.
The one who flipped us off is not the one who owns the dog. Even so, I can only imagine what these women must be like to live with. I keep thinking to myself, "So out of those three women, I can guarantee that at least three of them will NEVER come back to this restaurant. I would hope that out of the three, at least one is secretly embarrassed and hates the other three but is trapped by her lifestyle." In reality, I bet none of them come back and none are embarrassed about how horribly they all acted.
Don't get me wrong. I love dogs. I just can't think of anything much more presumptuous than to bring my dog (no matter how small and precious) into ANY place of business but ESPECIALLY a restaurant and assume that everyone else will just have to get over it and be OK with it. Seriously??
I wonder what restaurant they ended up at, Ruth!
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