My Top Ten

I’m not a huge fan of Dave Letterman, but I do like his Top Ten lists. Sometimes they are funny, sometimes I change the channel. I decided it was time to make up a Top Ten list of my own.  I know this topic has been done before, but just stay with me. Ok?  So here we go.

Here are the top ten lessons I’ve learned from watching my cats.

Number Ten:

Sometimes it’s better to say nothing.

The look on your face will say it all.

Number Nine:

Be picky about what you eat.

If you’re going to consume calories,

they might as well taste good.

Number Eight:

Make sure you get enough sleep –
8 hours are good, 10 are better, but 12 is way too much and might label you a slacker.

Number Seven:

Good grooming is imperative. Bad hair day are NOT something you want to have.

Number Six:

If something frightens you, run first, ask
questions later. There’s no shame in
being called a scaredy cat. Own it!

 Number Five:

If you do something stupid, you might as well laugh at yourself. Others will.

Number Four:

Pick your battles.

You're not gonna win every fight.

 Number Three:

The road of life will get bumpy. Just hang on!
Your faith in God will get you through. 

Number Two:

If you’re curious, investigate.

I use Google, Bing and Ask.com.

 And the Number One lesson

I’ve learned from watching my cats is:

Cover up your mess so other people
won’t have to look at it. 

A special thanks to Funnycatpix.com for these wonderful pictures of our feline friends.

And thank you Lucky, Halle, Petey, Puss Puss, Spencer, Tracy, Rusty, Blackie, and Stinker, my precious cats past and present.

You have taught me well!

Thanks for the memories . . .

This will be the last installment of memories about my school days. I’ve been putting off writing this as I’m almost ashamed by how much I don’t remember. I guess it was all the drugs I was on that affected my memory. LOL, no but it sure seems like it. If you’re bored or didn’t know me back then, you can stop reading now.

Here’s what I remember about my Newfield High School days:

I remember meeting Don Neidhart in our sophomore year. We were assigned the same homeroom because our last names were alphabetically close, his started with N, mine O. It was the first week of school and the teacher was having us fill out some papers that we had to turn back in. Don sat in front of me and turned around to ask me a question. That was how we met. I remember sometime later he asked me out on a date. We double-dated at the Smithtown Drive-In with his brother Richie and his girlfriend, Chris Motto (also from our class).

I remember Don was on the wrestling team and I would go to watch his matches. His mom would go too. She liked to get as close to the mat as allowed to cheer him on. She’d yell something like, “Go Donald” or “Get ‘im Donald.” She became almost an icon at each match. Newsday captured her perfectly and published the picture of her yelling, the ref checking for a pin, and Don going for the win over his opponent. I can see the commercial now. . . wrestling shoes $40, kneepads $20, a picture of your mom cheering you on as you pin your opponent…priceless. I hope Don still has this picture from the newspaper.

I remember lunches in the cafeteria. I would usually buy the school lunch. There was one cook, not sure of her name, who was Italian and made the best spaghetti sauce ever. It was always crowed on the lunchroom line on spaghetti days. I would buy extra Italian bread on those days…boy that was some good eating.

I was pretty much a goody two shoes in school. There was one or two times I remember cutting through the senior courtyard (oooo, bad bad Patty!!). And once, only once I let Don talk me into cutting school. I couldn’t enjoy the day because I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the truant officer, so I never did it again. I remember going to a party (who’s ???) where there was beer and though I didn’t drink any, some was spilled on my skirt and I prayed my mom wouldn’t smell it on me. I don’t think she did.

I remember being excited about being a senior. In fact, someone from the Quadrangle staff (unbeknownst to me at the time) asked me how I felt about coming back to school. My response, along with the responses of lots of other kids, was published in the first issue of the newspaper. My reply was something to the effect of “I’ve been looking forward to coming back for my senior year all summer.” And that was the truth.

I joined the Quadrangle staff that year. Don was the sports editor so it seemed like the thing to do. I had my own column. I would get all the newspapers the Quadrangle received from other schools and would report on the interesting happenings that were going on there. Not Pulitzer worthy, but I enjoyed it.

I also took part in our Senior Production. The theme of it was a takeoff on the hit TV show Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In. The back of the stage was set up with a wall that had several small window-sized doors in it. Just like the show, someone would open one of the doors and tell a joke, then close it, then someone else would do the same, and so on. Sometimes it was a two part joke, like a knock knock joke, and two people would participate. I remember Joann Salmeri took on the roll of Joann Worley from the TV show and would laugh in a funny yuck yuck way. She was so good at it too!

I remember going to the meeting to brainstorm on ideas for the show. I wrote a commercial and the teacher liked it. Me and Marc Cappobianco did the audition and got the parts. It went something like this:

          Excedrin Headache #69

                    [Patty enters stage right, holding both hands on the side
                    of her head]

          PATTY: Marc, can you get me the Excedrin? I have an
          awful headache.

                    [Marc enters stage right, struggling to get the lid off a
                    large school-size mayo jar with a green Excedrin
                    label on it]

          MARC: I can’t get the lid off.

                    [Patty waits patiently as Marc continues to struggle
                    with the lid]

                    [Patty becomes impatient and grabs the bottle from
                    Marc and starts to hit Marc with the bottle]

          PATTY: Marc, can’t you do anything? I need my Excedrin!

                    [Patty and Marc exit stage right as Patty continues to hit
                    Marc with the bottle]

The dialogue is not verbatim, but it’s close. We got laughs from the audience, but looking back at it now I’m not pleased that I was portraying a wife who abused her husband LOL. I kept that Excedrin label for a long time in a little memento box I had. I finally threw it away several years ago when I got ready to sell my house. I remember we closed the show with the song Bob Hope used to sing at the end of his show, “Thanks for the Memories.” Of course, we changed all the words to suit our senior class. I think the first line went something like, “Thanks for the memories of football afternoons and sunny days of rest…” Does anybody else remember more?

I remember getting my senior ring and being proud to be a part of the Class of 1969.  I remember senior prom, going with Don, the beautiful dress my mom made for me (I still remember those awful fittings), and the beach party the next day. I remember standing in line at graduation and hearing Pomp and Circumstance as we all walked in. Every time I hear that music it brings back my own graduation memories and I get a little teary-eyed. I remember the significance of moving my tassel from one side of my cap to the other…high school days are over, there’s a whole other world out there.

And was there ever. . .

Lucky's Story

I thought it only fitting since I wrote Halle’s story that I tell you how Lucky came to be a part of our family. It’s a simple story really; he was “the chosen one.”

First, I have to tell you about our “first born” Petey. He was a 6 month old male cat that came to our door on a cold night in January, 1999. I found out about a month after we took him in that he had wandered away from the home of Jon Eller, someone I actually knew from work. Jon lived about 2 miles from me and told me I could keep the cat if I wanted. Darn right I was keeping him, I just paid to have him fixed!

Now fast forward to June of 2004. Petey had been moping around, constantly lying beside the sliding glass door looking out to the backyard. We thought he was watching for a neighborhood cat that periodically made visits. Our human nature interpreted this as he was lonely for other cat companionship. That’s what we pet lovers do, we apply human characteristics to our pets. What? You’ve never watched the Dog Whisperer?

Anyway, a few days later Rick happened to be at the home of Dan Yonikus talking to him about refinishing some furniture. Rick noticed a boat load of cats in various stages of growth hanging around Dan’s garage-turned-storage-shed-for-all-his-antique-furniture in the back of the house. Rick asked Dan what he was doing with all those cats. Dan’s reply was simply, “You want one?” Rick pointed to a little 7-week old, long-haired, orange and cream colored ball of fur and said, “Yes, I want THAT one.” Dan told Rick that the cats were wild (they didn’t have much human interaction except at feeding time) and that he would have to catch the one Rick wanted. He said he would call him when he caught it. A few days later, Dan called and Rick went to pick up the kitten, but Dan had caught the wrong one. Oh, it was similar, but not the RIGHT one, not the one Rick had picked out. Dan said he would try again. The next time Dan called, he got it right.

We picked up the kitten after church on Sunday, June 13. When Dan said the cats were wild, he wasn’t kidding. This little ball of fur bit Rick on the finger when he tried to pet it. We decided to put the cat in our second bathroom to give it time to get accustomed to the surroundings. You couldn’t touch the little thing. It would swat at you with its tiny but deadly claws. I got the idea to use an old backscratcher that we had as a tool to offer food to the kitten. The backscratcher was in the shape of a cupped hand and had a long handle. I put the food in the cupped hand and slowly presented it to the kitten. It worked. He accepted food this way. Then I got another bright idea. As I was sitting on a small wooden stool talking softly to the cat, I decided to “meow.” Yes, I said, “meow.” I was pretending to be a cat to see if I could coax the little guy out from behind the toilet. “Meow, meow, meow,” I said softly. I saw the kitten peak around the corner of the cabinet and then come towards the sound. I kept at it, “Meow, meow, meow.” The kitten was now at my feet. “Meow, meow.” Then all of a sudden it jumped into my lap, layed down, and started to purr. I had him at “Meow!”

Rick and I discussed what to name him. Rick didn’t like any of the names I picked…too girlie he said. I had a cat named Rusty when I was young, that name would have fit because of Lucky’s coloring, but Rick liked the name Lucky because he was lucky Rick picked him out of all those cats and saved him. A few months later Dan did take all the cats to the shelter. So Lucky was very lucky indeed.

Lucky was introduced to Petey after being in the house a few days, but Petey really didn’t want to be bothered. I guess he tolerated Lucky but sometimes Lucky brought out the kitten in Petey. That was always fun to watch. Petey and Lucky played together for the next 8 months. Then on a cold day in February Petey went to kitty heaven. A sad day for me.

There are a lot of sides to Lucky’s personality. He’s smart and seems to understand me when I say certain words or phrases. He likes when you talk baby talk to him. When you do, he rolls over on his back and looks up at you. And he’s taken over the job of my alarm clock. I’ve read, “There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast.” That statement definitely defines Lucky

He’s also likes adventure. One time I left the cabinet door in the kitchen slide out open and Lucky got in and disappeared in the underbelly of the RV for several hours until he decided to come out. Now he remembers he’s been down there and will meow at the door wanting to get back in. But I don’t let him because I don’t know what he can get into down there.

Another time he escaped from the car when we were visiting Barb Bergstrand. He avoided capture for about 20 agonizing minutes, but was eventually cornered in her barn. Now I am very careful when I move him from house to car.

But Lucky can also be a scaredy cat. He runs for the hills whenever he hears the crinkle noise of aluminum foil. He’ll even run if he just sees the box because he knows what’s coming next…the dreaded crinkle noise!! And if I turn on the vacuum or the hair dryer when he’s around, he will slink down and quickly leave the room while keeping his eyes on the “monster” until he is in the clear.

So that’s Lucky’s story in a nut shell. He’s a cat with a sweet disposition, beautiful face, inquisitive nature, affectionate when he wants something, and can be fearless or fearful depending on the moment. I consider myself to be fortunate to be his owner partner because, as you know, no one ever really owns a cat.

If you want up-to-the-minute information on what is going on with Lucky and Halle, please visit my Facebook profile page and click on the “Catbook” tab. You will see pictures of them, can leave them a comment, and see what groups they’ve joined. My cats are now in cyberspace!!

The Keeper

This post was inspired by an email I received recently. It was simply titled “Keeper.” I thought it was good and I forwarded it on to the keepers in my life. The email spoke of times gone by where we cared for things we loved, fixed them when they broke and didn’t throw them away until they were completely used up. It also mentioned people we keep in our lives because they are worth it, “like a best friend that moved away, or a classmate we grew up with.” This statement immediately brought to mind my husband Rick. He is a keeper of people. It’s one of the things I admire about him.

Anyone who knows Rick knows he loves to talk. This is his preferred method of communication, whether it be by phone or face to face. However, since discovering the internet, construction job chat rooms, and Facebook, he has expanded his modus operandi, but not by much.

The way Rick draws people out is by asking them questions, and twenty never seems to be enough. It can go on and on until he is satisfied or runs out of things to ask about. He’s a good listener too and doesn’t interrupt when you’re speaking. He is truly interested and learns a lot just by listening to what people have to say.

Rick keeps in touch with all kinds of people from high school friends, to people he’s worked with, to friends from church, and just about anyone else who’s crossed his path somewhere along the way. When we get ready to move from a place, he makes sure he gets telephone numbers from everyone he connected with. Then he’ll call them at some point to see how they are doing. Some people he speaks to weekly, others monthly, and some will only get an annual phone call so he can catch up on what’s going on with them. 

Rick also stays in touch with the Fullers and Flatts (Rick likes to say his mother was a Flatt until she became a Fuller, hehe). He will regularly call aunts and uncles to find out how they are, who’s sick or having surgery, what’s going on with his cousins, etc. This is something his Dad used to do, and since his Dad passed away, Rick has taken up the torch.

And Rick doesn’t just talk to people he knows, he’ll talk to anyone who’s standing close enough to hear him speak. Here is a recent example that is so typically Rick. Last weekend we went to a buffet restaurant to celebrate Rick getting a job. The line was very long to get in. As we stood there waiting with about 100 other people, Rick started up a conversation with an older couple and their family in front of us. After an hour in line (it was a really good buffet), the couple finally reached the cashier. Just before they left to be taken to their table, the woman hands me a piece of paper with their names and telephone number on it and tells me if we are ever in town again, to please call them. Wow!! That was a first!!

After we had gone through the buffet line and returned to our table, Rick points and says, “See that guy over there?”

“What guy?” I say as I look in the direction he’s pointing.

“The guy in the red shirt.”

Spotting a red shirted man I reply, “What about him?”

“He works at the steel mill for Halliburton making $24 an hour as a pipe fitter.”

“Where do you know him from?”

“I met him on the buffet line just now.”

“Is there anyone you won’t talk to?”

“No,” he replies with a grin.

Rick never meets a stranger. His likeable nature, his quick smile, his inquisitive mind with seemingly endless questions, along with his desire to listen makes it easy for people to talk to him and sometimes even share the most intimate details of their life; like the forty-something year old lady in the tire store last Friday who told Rick how her boyfriend of 20 years cheated on her, how she dumped him and then later was set up on a blind date with a man who was a preacher and now they are happily married. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

Such is life with a talker for a mate. After twenty-one years, I would have it no other way. And that makes Rick a “keeper” for me.

It's a new dawn . . .

8:12 am. I’m sitting here at the computer staring out the dining room window… waiting.

About two hours ago it was pouring down rain. I’m glad, my car really needed a washing. I didn’t get up from bed; instead I just laid there praying. The rain has stopped now and all that’s left are some puddles in the road.

I can see about seven other RVs from this window. No one’s outside yet. Most people are already at work. Wait, a lady just came out carrying an umbrella and something else. Aw, it’s one of those cute little toy dogs, looks like a Chihuahua from here. “Yo quiero Taco Bell!” She puts little Taco on the ground and begins to walk. Makes me glad I have cats. Other people are now starting to move around, someone walking towards the laundry room, another taking trash to the dumpster. A few cars are coming and going. The day has begun for sure despite the fact that I can’t see the sun. But I know it’s there shinning down on me and all the earth.

9:20 am. I can see a few patches of blue sky begin to peek through the clouds. I can hear one very loud bird singing. Are these signs? I glance at my watch… that’s good I say to myself. I continue to wait.

I try to keep my mind occupied. I feed the cats, eat breakfast, take a shower. I don’t dry my hair because the blow dryer is too loud. Who knows what it will look like later? I don’t care. Back on the internet I check my emails, sign on to Facebook where I write a few comments, play a game of Farkle, and visit my Island Paradise.

10:23 am. Still waiting. The more time that goes by, the better I tell myself.

The microwave timer goes off. Time to drink more water. I’ve been trying to drink 10 glasses of water a day. I haven’t been successful until I started setting the timer every 30 minutes. When the timer goes off, I drink 9 swallows. It takes 1 ½ hours to drink one bottle equal to 2 glasses. It works well on days I stay at home. If I’m out and about, then it’s hit and miss and I have to drink more in the evening.

I’m listening to the song “Nothing Without You.” It’s on my playlist that’s on my blog page. Such a good song for me to listen to while I’m waiting. In fact, they are all good. All these songs help me focus on the one sure constant in my life… Jesus. What do people who don’t have Jesus in their life do when they need help? Who do they cry out to? Where do they get their hope from? I can only imagine.

11:38 am. The slow internet connection is driving me crazy. Grrr!! I turn on the television to Fox News. They talk about Obama, the deficit, the healthcare bill. I switch channels and stop at a movie, the 2005 remake of H. G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds.” The original was better. I turn the television off… I hate daytime tv. I also hate waiting.

12:24 pm… the phone rings… FINALLY…. It's Rick. My wait is over. I answer quickly.  I try to guess what he is going to say.  He says, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"  Oh, I can't handle any more bad news.  Then, on the one year anniversary of Rick being out of work, after the endless phone calls and emails, after going back to school to upgrade his skills, after the many prayers by us and our dear friends and family, after all the disappointments we've endured over the last 12 months, he says, "I got the job."

And all I can say is God is good!!


"It's a new dawn . . .

          it's a new day . . .

                    it's a new life . . .

                              for me . . .

                                                       and I'm feeling good."