Another Surprise for Grannylu

Last week Carole announced we were all going out for a "fancy" dinner with my grandson Ben and his fiance Teresa. Carole suggested I get "dolled up" and put on some fancy duds. When Carole says "fancy" she usually means real tablecloths and napkins, bottles of good wine and an atmosphere unlike Chipotle. I dressed accordingly.

I needn't have fussed. We ended up at at a steakhouse---a Japanese steakhouse. Now I enjoy Asian food but I don't like Japanese. However, since it was a "steakhouse" I figured they might have something generic for me.

The atmosphere was anything but intimate. I was pretty sure the foot touching mine under the huge table probably didn't belong to anybody I knew. Then there was the 11 year olds birthday party at the next table---and all the under-10 guests.

We did have wine. Strange, thick syrupy stuff. I think DayQuil tastes better. Accompanying the wine was a plate of uncooked dead things I can't begin to describe.

When it was time to order I decided on chicken. How bad could that be? A few minutes later a skinny guy in a funny hat came to our table with an arsenal of sharp things clanking in his belt. He identified himself as Ti-Mi-Shu. Mr. Shu started by juggling his sharpies and setting our plates on fire. Then "Chop-Chop-Chop!" I knew better than to wait for the strolling violin player.

More "Chop-Chop-Chop". It all looked the same to me. Pieces of things were dramatically flung on our no-longer-flaming plates. Like a good girl I proceeded to eat but I began to wonder..."Where's the chicken?" Unable to identify anything for certain I surmised perhaps that large noodley whatimacallit might actually be meat. Wrong!

As it turned out Ti had dumped my meat on Teresa's plate. She had eaten it. That was fine with me as I am a dutiful grandmother who would gladly give the shirt off her back or the food out of her mouth to her grandchildren. Besides, I was done.

We left laughing. So Long Mr. Ti-Mi-Shu. It was a hoot.

Remembering Lost Love

It was a dark and stormy night. Yes, it was. Jack brought the garbage out and came back holding the collar of a soggy, quaking and bewildered dog. She was also tiny, mud-covered and tagless.

Naturally Carole swooped down and bundled her into the living room. The one with the Coit-clean ecru carpet. The one we don't wear shoes on. Lucy exclaimed, "Ack! Ack!" But of course nobody listened.

In no time flat Carole washed, dried and brushed the little thing. I sat in my matriarch chair and fretted with the intention of being obvious. Then, before I could do anything to prevent it, the shivering mite crept into my chair and snuggled up to me quiet as a little mouse. I didn't know what to do---I'd never held a dog before! Well, I discovered I'm not made of stone.

For the next three weeks Bonnie Lou, as I'd named her, refused to leave my side. Jackthedog and Sam the Incontinent Pup were still frequent visitors. Bonnie Lou made sure she kept her little body between me and the presumptuous invaders. Meanwhile Carole visited the shelters, placed "found dog" ads and hung posters in public places.

"Think how you'd feel if you lost your pet," she said. I couldn't imagine. "What goes around comes around." she added. "You don't want this on your conscience do you?" Frankly I didn't give a darn. I wanted Bonnie Lou.

Well, sad for me it came around that Bonnie Lou's original owners showed up. (They called her Hannah---what an insipid name.) But they were from North Dakota and Carole was delighted to share stories about FAAARgo. And of course they all agreed nobody from NoDak would ever keep someone else's dog.

I was very sad for a long time and am still blue every time I think of her. So if any of you know a lonely little Westie girl out there, tell her Lucy is waiting with open arms.

PS All the best to Terri at http://www.islandwriter.net/ on her adorable new Scottie baby Duncan!

Can You BELIEVE Him!

I was still steamed when I woke up this morning. Last night I was watching CNN. There stood George W. Bush and from his lips came the assurance that: "I am very encouraged by the progress of the war in Iran."

Well George, guess what? I'm not not encouraged!

As I watched the "leader" of our country make this patently ridiculous statement I thought of Cindy Sheehan being carted off in handcuffs for wearing a tee shirt suggesting otherwise---protesting a war that killed her son.

If I were closer to 65 than 85 I'd march on Washington myself and take as many of my blogger friends as were willing and able to make the trip. As it is I'll continue to express my indignation through my voice and vote---because I still believe that I live in a wonderful country. And I'm not giving up on it.