You put the sauce on the bottom, the spaghetti on top

This salad looks too good to eat, but we manage to eat it anyway. It's made with such care and perfection I had to take a picture of it. By the way, I didn't make it.



Tuesday was an unusually busy work day so when the offer came for supper to be made by someone other than me, I accepted.

Salad, spaghetti and cheese-topped garlic bread was on the menu. As we finished our salads, the cook said, “You know, I read where the right way to eat spaghetti is to put the sauce on your plate first, then the spaghetti.” I was a teensy bit skeptical, but this was said with a straight face and no-nonsense expression.

At the stove I put the scrumptious-smelling sauce on the plate first, then added the whole wheat pasta. Two pieces of crispy garlic bread made for a perfect combination.

I sat down and looked at my plate, then heard this: “Wow. What kind of an upside-down backward world do you live in?”

We all thought that was pretty funny. I’d fallen again for a suggestion just because someone I believed made it. Turns out he wasn’t kidding; he really had read some article about the proper way to serve spaghetti but the experience started a trip down memory lane.

In our marriage’s early years my husband often called me gullible. I did fall for a lot of scams and such but I learned my lessons along the way, or so I thought. Those things we fall for often change appearance, at least they did for me and I got burned every single time.

Instead of revisiting the School of Hard Knocks I mentally closed those thoughts down and concentrated on movie night. Just before supper I had received a call from a person who got my new cell phone number from someone. I could feel warning bells going off about the proposal being offered, yet I half-heartedly agreed to check into it. I kicked myself for doing that, and tried to put it out of my mind.

Then my phone rang while we were watching a favorite show. It was yet another person who was given my number, this time from the original caller. Anger and suspicion took the place of warning bells as the caller was even more hard-sell than the first one. I told the woman I would try to make the meeting but wasn’t going to promise.

Actually, my mind was made up as soon as I hung up the phone. There would be no meeting for me, no fantastic opportunity, though I may wonder for a while whether that was a stupid decision to make. If so, I’ll live with it.

That’s just the kind of upside-down backward world I live in.

Dreamland not all that dreamy

I've been a bit freaked out by scarecrows since watching the original Children of the Corn. This guy looks harmless...right?


I had a doozy of a nightmare a couple of weeks ago, the kind that was so frightening I dreamed about it after I fell back asleep.

Thankfully these horrible experiences are rare but I have to tell you, they are emotionally and even physically painful.

The nightmare scene took place in our home. I was walking downstairs and a few steps past the top landing I noticed my better half staring up at the foyer ceiling. I could understand why: A lovely dining room table and four chairs were attached upside down just above his head.

Two things happened almost simultaneously. As one of the noticeably heavy chairs disengaged itself from the rest of the upside-down furniture and came hurtling toward me, the dog made a beeline up the stairs, past me and, I’m assuming, into one of the bedrooms.

I froze as the chair came at me even as I forced myself to wake up. Apparently I was voicing my fright because a soothing voice was telling me all was well and to go back to sleep. Except I couldn’t do that; I’ve done that before only to find myself right where the nightmare left off. Not fun.

As I sat up and thought about what freaked-out place I had escaped from, the tingling of what seemed like every nerve in my body was reminding me of the physical pain of such a bad dream. I struggled to stay awake, and that worked for a while.

Sleep took over again, and this time I found myself in an ordinary dream talking to a friend. Nothing out of the ordinary happened at first but before long I proceeded to share with her the nightmare about the upside-down flying furniture. This was turning out to be quite the experience as I’ve never (to my knowledge) remembered a nightmare so vividly as to recall it to someone in a dream.

Those who know me know I love scary books and movies, stormy days and nights, Halloween and all that good stuff. Being trapped in a nightmare is something else though, and since I have a low pain tolerance I didn’t find the other-world experience all that delightful.

We’ve recently watched some mind-tingling movies that I thought might affect my dreams. Devil is about you-know-who being one of the occupants in a stalled elevator with several people trapped inside. The other night we watched Case 39, easily one of the most frightening movies I’ve ever seen. The next night we thoroughly enjoyed The Assignment, a nail-biter with a surprise ending.

I’m not sure what makes some stories weave their way into our minds and take hold beneath in our subconscious, just waiting for us to close our eyes and enter Dreamland. I thought for sure I’d have at least one odd dream after watching Shutter Island or Inception, both starring Leonardo DiCapprio, but nothing happened.

A favorite TV show is on tonight, one of those out-of-this-world stories about aliens taking over the Earth. V has it all—beautiful leading ladies, handsome good guys fighting handsome bad guys, and aliens with long, sharp teeth with evil intentions. So far, though, we’ve not seen any flying furniture and that’s fine with me.

Our dogs can teach us many lessons--we should watch and learn

"This may look like Sarah Jane is looking up to Heaven, but actually she is responding to her master's request to 'look up'. I took a picture of her alongside the expensive grandfather clock she chewed the corner off of during her first year with us. As you by now know, we love Sarah much more than we do the clock."





Someone once told me I was obsessed with Facebook. I think there are degrees of obsession, and while it’s true I check the site half a dozen times a day, it’s not something I think about constantly. (That obsession is reserved for becoming a successful novelist.)

What I found interesting on Facebook the other day was a conversation among dog lovers about what we resort to in order to get our pooches to come in from playtime in the yard.

Sarah Jane’s favorite person doesn’t have to say much. He calls her to come inside and if she disobeys he simply starts toward her and she comes running. I don’t get it; he’s never laid a hand on her but she knows who’s boss.

If The Boss isn’t around and I have to do the job, I usually get ignored. It’s not like I’m athletically inclined and can chase Sarah around until she figures out I’m serious. To add insult to injury, the dog will get out as far as she can, turn and squint at me, then bark.

My Facebook friends shared words and phrases they used, and mine were similar. I’ve used supper, let’s eat, Daddy’s home, and ice cream. There have been times I lied just to get Sarah to come to me but that usually backfires. She won’t respond again for a long while once she’s been fooled.

We’ve had many dogs over the years yet this one has me flummoxed. She’s easily the biggest, and our first Lab. Maybe this breed is supposed to stay a puppy until who-knows-when. Here she is, five years old and still acting like every morning is Christmas. One would think that walks get boring after a month or two, yet Sarah gets sparkly-eyed and bouncy (and loud) when it’s time to stroll downtown and back. Oh, heaven!

This dog is like a child when it comes to winding down for the night. She’s so reluctant to turn in she keeps her chin on the sofa arm, nose pointed toward her master just in case he decides to do something fun. We can’t make any sudden moves or she’s on us like a flash, ready to take on anything and anyone.

I wouldn’t want to leave the impression that Sarah thinks I’m worthless. Every morning without fail we can count on her to slurp water, pad around the kitchen table and gently place her soggy chin on my leg. Once she feels her face is dry enough she steps back, tilts her head and wrinkles her forehead. That’s dog language for, “Get up and take me out.” Funny, I’m supposed to understand and obey her but she doesn’t feel obligated to return the favor.

Besides the puppy-like behavior at walk time, Sarah still steals things and tries to eat them. A couple of weeks ago we found evidence that she’d eaten some very odd things indeed and we waited anxiously to see if she had done any permanent damage to herself. She seems fine, though I realize we can’t ever really let our guard down. Doors must remain shut to rooms with tempting chewables, and other precautions taken to keep Sarah safe from herself.

We dog lovers know that our loyal furry friends come into our lives for a too-short time. They provide unconditional love, zero criticism, hold no grudges and forgive us our shortcomings. No wonder it tears a hole in our heart and soul when they pass on—there’s no one on Earth like them.

To all of you out there blessed to have a dog by your side, enjoy him or her while you can. And it wouldn’t hurt to take lessons from them on how to treat one another, either, especially if you agree with the second sentence in the paragraph above. I’m still learning.

Warm thoughts on a cold winter's day

Like most everyone else, we were snowed in last Wednesday. But we had plenty of food, our boiler was heating the house, and I was feeling plenty blessed. There were many others who had to be out in that mess and as far as I could tell, they did their jobs quite well indeed. Thanks--to all of you!


To say today feels weird is an understatement. It’s Wednesday morning, the first day I can remember in years when almost the whole town is “closed”. As the closings and cancellations were read off on the radio I had to wonder if it wouldn’t have been easier to tell us what was open instead.

No newspapers arrived at their usual time; no mail either but I’m not complaining. I hope no one else did either. How often does something like this happen anyway?

The dog was a bit bewildered about the whole winter landscape thing. If us humans had snowdrifts up to our you-know-whats, think about the poor dogs—especially the little ones. Sarah Jane needed paths shoveled in the back and front of the house in order to use her facilities. To make it more interesting, she takes pills each day with one side effect being increased thirst and having to go potty.

I really thought the weather forecasters were full of beans but that didn’t stop us from stocking up on essentials and comfort foods. Turns out two of us were out shopping at about the same time a couple of days ahead of the storm, and by the time I texted the message, “I bought milk” it was too late. We have two gallons of milk that expire on the same day, two bottles of salad dressing and four bags of potato chips.

There are chocolate chip cookies in the cookie jar, and a freshly-baked apple pie on the counter. Bread is rising near the stove, and soup sounds great for lunch. It’s a blessing to be inside where it’s warm and cozy, and I couldn’t be more thankful most everyone kept their power on during those horrendous winds.

It’s been interesting to listen to the scanner chatter. I’ve heard conversations about what kind of people are dumb enough to risk life and limb to drive at times like these, how many cars and trucks were stuck in the middle of the road or in ditches, and alarming reports of snow plow drivers who found themselves lost because they couldn’t tell what street they were on.

Some who were sent out to rescue others needed rescuing themselves. Thoughts swirled around here about whether we should buy a generator in case the heat went out. Our boiler struggled to keep up with the frigid wind whipping out of the northeast, and we began shutting doors to rooms we wouldn’t be using until the weather calmed down.

Even if you’ve had a bit of a tough time over the last few days, there are probably plenty of things to be thankful for. And after having a home and loved ones safe inside, I’m thankful for those who are out there shoveling, plowing and rescuing stranded strangers. Kudos to all of you.