Missing Gypsy - Three Months Later

It has been three months since I said goodbye to my sweet orange boy. Where am I?

Sometimes I don't know. I never knew I could feel such despair for the loss of an animal. I wonder if I was happier in the rest of my world if I would feel quite so desolate. I guess that's a moot point.

Gypsy always reminds me of himself in the oddest ways. Sometimes it's via the small knitted mouse I carry with me everywhere I go or the fleecy blanket that I wrapped around him as we said goodbye. I keep it close where I can reach it at night when it's so dark and my head flies in too many different directions. Just as I used to pet him, it settles me. 

He comes into my head as I toss clothes -- especially black clothes -- on the bed and don't have to worry about them looking hairy. (Wrinkled, maybe. Hairy, no.)

I go to the garage to bring in groceries and can leave the door to both the house and outside open, not worrying that he would slip outside when I didn't see. And I don't have to worry about him slipping out the cottage door when we're at the lake.

It's easier to travel to the lake on the weekend, not worrying about leaving him in the car on a hot day or having to take him inside a restaurant.
Or worrying about him hurling in the car. 
I don't clean litter boxes or wash cat food dishes.
I don't have to measure pee or poop or monitor how much water he drank. 

I don't spend a chunk of time every day giving him fluids.

But I also don't have the pleasure of watching him chase treats or try to break into the treat box.

I don't get to hear his purr or feel him snug in so I can rub his soft little tummy or gently grab his tail as he walked by and feel the soft fur go through my finger. 

I'm not awakened by his gentle pestering and followed patiently around the house till he's fed. He was always a chatty little boy.

 

I miss my office assistant. Kitty on the keyboard.

 

I miss rubbing his sweet little paws.

 

I miss looking into his eyes -- those pools of green and brown flecks. And his spotty little nose.

And I miss having him sit up for each dinner!

Or treat.

I miss his skill at catching mice at the cottage. 

 

About the only thing I don't miss is his bringing me his catch when I'm in bed. 

 

I know Rick misses him, too, which helps. He always treated Gypsy like a dog and Gypsy loved it.
They were play pals and that always made me smile!

During his last months, he got "table" privileges. (He may have thought he had them before but was smart enough not to do it when I was around.) My caretaker Jan took this picture of him as he helped her make beaded jewelry. It was his last photo.

I've had signs that Gypsy has given me permission to get a new cat. One the day of Greg's art gig in Detroit, as I was sharing with my friend Kate the note Dr. Anne had written me and the donation she had given in Gypsy's name, a mom-cat and three kittens walked across Rick's front porch. It was a sign.

I've been so enchanted by the Seven Kittens videos that I keep thinking maybe it's time for one. This blog post by new blogger Susan Hoyle Bailey is the best summary I've seen and if you love cats and kittens (Sorry, Arti!) don't miss this link!

And I've even "auditioned" some kittens and their mom-cat found by a colleague. I'll check them out again and see if we bond. And maybe one day, we'll bond as well as Gyp and I did.

But still, even with those signs, I cry every day. I know it gets better. But I sure wish I knew when I'll smile again. I mean, really, truly smile and keep it there and mean it.

Birthday Weekend -- 365 and Counting!

I know I shouldn't wish away the days, but in 365 of them (less now!) I can retire!

Yes, another birthday and a mostly-nice birthday weekend.

I wasn't sure when it started (you can ask Rick about the meltdown I had!). The Friday night before, I had to work, announcing groups at our wonderful Great Lakes Folk Festival. Then I'd hang at the booth and meet people and talk to them about public broadcasting.

 

Normally, I love that gig. The festival is four-star and the people stopping by are always so nice. But this year, it was pouring rain, I was already not feeling my best, and it was unseasonably cold. Even for a normal summer, it was unseasonably cold. And our summer has been anything but normal.

By the time I crashed in bed that night, I was close to my last nerve. And when I woke up on my birthday, that nerve snapped. 

Poor Rick. He was making wonderful blueberry pancakes and I was sitting in the kitchen sobbing, looking at a life that felt like it had no way out. Everything was getting to me -- my health, my weight, incredible work stress, missing Gypsy, the leaky water pipe in the basement, my life imploding. About the only thing that wasn't bothering me was getting older, because it was 365 days closer to retirement.

Well, we both survived breakfast and things started looking up after pancakes! A wonderful lunch with friend Kate also made this wonderful card! She grabbed a freeze frame from one of the ustream seven kittens videos, titled "Sock Parade."

 (Only one more week to keep watching the stream of these sweet kittens from week 1. Next week they'll go to their own homes and oh, how I'll miss them! They are SO fun to watch!)

Later that night Rick and I went to dinner and then to the Great Lakes Folk Festival. 

The weather was terrific by then -- a perfect festival evening. We enjoyed three different acts (and bits of others). 

My favorite was Claire Lynch, a bluegrass singer/songwriter with very witty lyrics and a great band.

The good weather continued the next day as our Cork Poppers celebrated the wines of Tuscany. More on that in another post.

Let's just say Barb could open a cake bakery!

So, it was a weekend of great highs and lows. The start of a "new year." The incubation of plans to play out in 365 days. Give or take a few!

Cork Poppers and Wines of France

While we're taking a break from our trip posting for some home-town posts, I thought I'd share some of the notes from our recent Cork Poppers wine tasting.

The theme was France. Party favors included a magnetic pad with the menu on it ($1 from Michael's) and magnets made with wine corks. Our place cards had a different photo from Paris for each guest.

Our gathering was on Rick's patio. For flowers, I bought several bunches of gladiolas for $2.99. When Rick saw him, he asked, "What are you doing with the funeral flowers?" But cut down to a more reasonable size, they made colorful and charming arrangements.

 

With a terrific cheese-and-bread platter, courtesy of Pat and Meredith, we began tasting. Our first wine was Domaine Seguinot-Beulet Chablis, 2009. This is made from 100 percent Chardonnay grapes from Burgundy, France, and the wines were NOT aged in oak (which I prefer).

It was absolutely delicious. Menu suggestions included seafood, soft cheese, lemon tarragon chicken and chicken piccata. Rick summed it up best when he said, "Why don't we just drink this?"

 

Good in theory. At $20/bottle, perhaps less good in execution.Our wine guide, Dick, said chablis is generally more expensive because it is is from a smaller region. I agreed with Barb, who said, "This is fabulous!

Next up, Louis Jadot Macon Villages 2010. This is a 100 percent Chardonnay from Burgundy and no oak was used in the processing.

It was more tart than the first and Cheryl noted it had a cleaner finish. The AOC classification means it is not of highest caliber but a step above the basics. Someone (probably Barb!) called it "another reason to drink white." But, at $15, it was less expensive than the Chablis.

The Chateau La Tour de Beraud, Rose 2011, was received with mixed ratings. Some said it was lacking in flavor. Others said, "Oh, you have to get this, it's really good.

At $9, not a bad price. But I think at the end of the day this was the least favorite of everyone.

We switched to reds with Georges Duboeuf Beaujolais Brouilly 2009, from Burgundy.

Deboeuf is a nagotiant meaning he collects the grapes and juice and does not have his own vineyard. We were advised to "drink it you." I found it really tasty and very nice, but if left to sit too long, it would turn to vinegar. $14.50 is a lot to pay for wine-to-vinegar, so bear that in mind!

I didn't get the price on Chateau Du Ragon Bordeaux, 2009, another AOC-classified red. Rick said it was "more in your face" than the Duboeuf and I have notes that it "surprised me" and "This was my favorite.

The last red we enjoyed was Chateau La Raze Beauvallet, 2009. This AOC region is from the Medoc region (and I DO like Medoc, which is a small region in Bordeaux! When we were in France, we probably drank Medoc more than any other "type" of wine.)

At $12, it is a very good value with a nice finish. Dick advised us that it should be consumed within five years, and that doesn't seem to be a problem!

Then it was time for dinner! Rick grilled yakotori, a chicken/scallion-on-skewers dish, with the chicken marinated overnight in a soy-mirin mixture. 

 

Meredith brought tasty veggie packets for the grill and Barb, a delicious Greek salad. 

 

Cheryl's dessert was light as a feather, and a perfect way to end a summer meal.

And I'm happy to say no one left the table any less than happy!
Finally, for a splendid photo of a vineyard in Provence, visit Esme's Words and Peace HERE.I recently discovered her beautiful blog!

And, if you are fond of wine and new to The Marmelade Gypsy, check the labels on the sidebar under "Cork Poppers" or "Wine." You'll find posts featuring wines from around the world -- and a lot of crazy people who love to try it!

We Interrupt this Post -- To Boast!

We've been enjoying the sights of Paris for rather a long while! In fact, I think I had more days of posts on Paris than we actually were there.But before we head off to the Netherlands and London, I had to take a break to talk about one of my favorite artists!

If you've read The Marmelade Gypsy long, you will know that Rick has two great sons and one of them, Greg, studied art and is making his way in the world as an artist.

Not long ago, he was invited to do a presentation at the Detroit Institute of Arts on his specialty, chalk. The day would include an interactive temporary installation on the walk of one of the DIA's courtyards.

So, on a bright sunny morning in June, we gathered at the DIA, under an Alexander Calder statue to be active participants.

It was a time for friends to convene and celebrate Greg!

Greg had stenciled the word "BLAM" in a long, repetitive row down the sidewalk and painted around it in white. He used very ancient and traditional materials to do this, which was part of his "thing."

BLAM signified lots of things, but in Detroit, one of the associations is gunfire. He wanted to turn the word on its head and bring out the meaning of amazement.

There was lots of last minute prep.

Rick helped him get the whitewash down on the sidewalk.

 

Then, everyone was to chalk around the outside of the design on the walk itself.

I have to admit, there were a lot of smiles as everyone got into the act!

It was fun to be a kid again -- to draw with materials that we knew were temporary, that could smear, where you couldn't be precise. You just created your own world with color.

I, of course, remembered my Gypsy boy.

 

There were a variety of wonderful designs. You might recognize Rick's bike, Kate's parrot, and lots of wonderful color mixes.

After some time doing this, we went inside, where Greg gave his talk about using chalk as a medium, its history, and the urban art of creating art on sidewalks and buildings. He described his technique and showed one of his larger commissioned pieces, a chalkboard to hang over a bar and across from a mirror.

Of course there were plenty of photo ops as our good friends Kate (and Mike), Judy (and Dick) and Jenna had to get a group photo in front of one of Greg's large chalk art commissions.

 

Then he asked us to go outside and draw over his painted work -- to make our "BLAM" of art ourselves.

While there were a number of friends and family, we were especially excited that lots of strangers were taking part as well.

I especially loved seeing the little kids with work!

And when a scout troop that had been touring the museum came out, they got a quick lesson in chalking from Greg and set off to create their own work.

Families with children of all ages took part. It was joyful in every way.

A lot of people left the DIA with smiles on their faces (and chalk on their pants) knowing that we were all a part of creating something artistic -- even if it might disappear with the next big rain.

And speaking for Rick and myself and for Greg's mom, I think, we were all really proud of our own personal family artist!

 

Because, anyone who can do this with chalk has more patience than we do!

And I think we all agreed, it was a BLAM good day!

And my recommendation to you? Get your inner BLAM out, pick up some sidewalk chalk and enjoy! It's tons of fun! 

A note on the photos with this post: Some are mine; most of them come courtesy of Michael Maurer Smith, Judy Winter and Kate McNenly, all of whom brought cameras and captured things far better than I ever could! Thanks, all!