And Along Came T-bone

LUCY BURDETTE: I've had a cat in my life ever since the year I turned 13. I was desperate for two things for that birthday--Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees, and a kitten. My mother was wise enough to agree to the kitten. It was January, though, and not the kitten season. She found one who'd been returned to the pound by his adoptive family. We called him Tigger, and I still have the receipt stamped "No Refund."

You might remember that both of our furry family members died this past summer. I have missed them terribly and worried I'd never find animal friends so wonderful. And I needed time to grieve, and negotiate what would be next with John.

But Monday my birthday came around again (a frightening number of years past 13) and I decided, with much encouragement, to go take a look at the Florida Keys animal shelter.

The shelter is located out on Stock Island, and it's tiny and bursting with animals. The volunteers and workers are very eager to get to the new building, most likely in February. This is the office and waiting room--on the other end was a gray cat in a cage named "Saucy," a gila monster, hamsters, an enormous snake, and many birds. And this being Key West, there was a rooster behind a gate.

My friend Stan went with me--I can't begin to describe how overwhelming it was to see 60 cats in four tiny rooms...How to choose? I was thinking of a tiger, either yellow like Tigger, or gray like Evinrude in the Key West mysteries. 

This guy had nice stripes...

Black cat on shelf

Cat in sink

Rocky was adorable but he seemed very shy

We met T-bone, who'd been spotted by a friend from the gym...

And then along came Ramp, a very frisky kitten who launched himself onto my chest and clung there purring...

I said to Stan, "I guess I've been chosen." So we went back to the office and told them I'd sign on for Ramp.

"Oh," said Del, the administrative assistant, "Ramp has a lot of heat around him." (Cat-shelter speak for he's hot.) "We've got four applications already on him."

"Ok, what about T-bone?"

"He has a hold application on him, too."

So I went back home, disappointed and unable to choose another. Two days later, my gym friend emailed again with photos of T-bone:

He greeted me at the door 
Played and purred
Followed me to the other rooms

The people with the hold are not ‘this cat specific’

Go adopt him

And so I did. He spent the first couple hours in the laundry room while I read in the hall and chatted with him. 

"T-bone, what do you know about social media?" I asked.

"Not much, mom, but I can learn."

And then he came out and there's no going back...

At the end of his first day...(gotta love the two-toned paw...)

And here's the next morning...

I admit to being completely besotted. So you'll be seeing lots of T-bone! And ps, here he is at the Marathon Vet Hospital on Monday, because yes, he developed a virus and got sick as a proverbial dog 4 days in. He says he's fine now, thanks for asking.

And here he is yesterday, feeling very much better and very much at home. 

Stripes on stripes

Thanks to my sister Sue, Bunnie, Leigh, Renee, Cheryl, and Stan for nudging me along. And to the wonderful folks at the SPCA who rescue so many animals and take care of what they need so they can find homes. If you're looking for a cat, go there....

If you had or have a special animal friend in your life, how did you find them?

Family Reunions, another taste!

Isleib family gathering, circa 1960

LUCY BURDETTE: So interesting that Ingrid invited us to contribute to a post on reunions during the same month that I was attending two! These were family reunions, one for my 90-year-old uncle, and one for John's 100 year old cousin (and yes, he has amazing genes.) I thought you might enjoy a little peek into my family's behavior during a get-together. 

John and Lucy with birthday boy

Uncle Don was my father's only brother, four years younger. They were devoted to each other – when my father was ailing, Don called every single day for several years running.

Years ago, when John and I were first married, he was attending his first extended family party with me, a 50th wedding anniversary for Don and his bride, Carol. John's family is absorbed (some might say obsessed) with sports. So he wanted to know what equipment to bring along for the weekend. Tennis rackets? Golf clubs? Ping-pong paddles? My cousin Steve responded: when you're with the Isleibs, all you need is a knife and fork.

This get together didn't let us down in the food department. The three daughters in law and their daughters cooked all the food – an amazing feast! (Here are my three cousins and Uncle Don in line.)









My cousin Tom, who you may remember from his appearance several years ago as our resident Limerick genius, is very interested in genealogy. He made this chart for his father. 





But much to the dismay of my siblings and me, we were not on it. And I have to confess that we were not gracious about our absence, although he explained very reasonably that he didn't have room. 




We felt compelled to follow up the next morning with a rejoinder.







Then there was a very clever quiz about my uncle's life – here's one of the questions:

2. What was the most disgusting food Don has eaten in his foreign travels, or at home?

a. Brains of a live monkey in Sumatra
b. Insect “paste” on unleavened bread in Cameroon
c. Fish with a parasitic worm in its flesh from Arthur Treacher’s Fish ‘n’ Chips in Lansing
d. Roasted goat’s eyeball in Zambia




And finally there came a wonderful game called where in the world is Don Isleib? And a gift exchange, for which we were asked to bring a gift related to some aspect of his life.





Here's the birthday boy, exhausted by his big weekend! So that's my family in a nutshell--food, clever wordplay, lots of laughing and teasing.


What would your family gathering be like?

Happy WHAT Day?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: So, birthdays. My thought is that we are required to celebrate, because yes, of course, we are glad we were born—which is what they’re about, right? But I really don’t see why we have to give each annual event a number. How about having, you know, Hank Day. Susan Day. Rhys Day. Whatever our “birth” day is, that’s how we figure out when our celebration day is, and who cares about the actual passage of time. See what I mean?

(October 17—yes, my Celebration Day. Much better. "Which one?" you ask. "Why, this year’s of course!")

One's birthday—or whatever we’re going to call it—is also a lucky day, that’s for sure. (And when we were kids, we’d try to extend to birthday WEEK, which my mother never acknowledged with anything but a sneer.) And I always felt October was “lucky,” too, by extension.

Now the fabulous Shawn Reilly Simmons—you know her from her incredible work at Malice Domestic right?--has a couple of birthdays coming up.

Wait—she has more than one birthday this year?
Yup.

Happy Birthday to Me, and Me Again

By Shawn Reilly Simmons

I’ve been thinking about birthdays a lot lately. It seems every week I’m wishing a friend Happy Birthday, or a Happy Book Birthday, in some small way sharing in their excitement on their special day. Tomorrow happens to be my birthday. I’ll be turning 45, so it’s one of those milestone years, one of the ones that ends in a five or a zero.
A few days later on February 23rd, I’ll be celebrating another birthday when the first two books in my Red Carpet Catering series will be published by Henery Press.

I had nothing to do with the scheduling of the book releases, but I wasn’t surprised when I was told they would be in February. It’s always been a lucky month for me, and I’ve often thought it had some kind of magical pull, like it’s my own special month for major events.

 Great things have happened in my life during the shortest month of the year: I met my husband (on the very last day, the 28th, 9 years ago, so just under the wire), three years later we got married in February (on my birthday, in fact, which seemed like a good idea at the time, but in retrospect just causes him a lot of anxiety, especially since it’s the same week as Valentine’s Day). Many years ago right out of college I was hired for my first real marketing job in New York City during February. And now I can add “became a published author” to the list of significant milestones that have occurred during the month.

I will now always remember my 45th birthday as the one where I achieved my lifelong dream of becoming a writer, the dream that I’ve had since I was eight years old. That’s a pretty great birthday, taking second place only behind my wedding day six years ago.

Some women don’t mention their age. They keep it to themselves for various reasons, many of which I completely understand. My books are set behind the scenes on movie sets from the head caterer’s point of view, a job that I have done myself. Acting is one profession where ageism (and sexism, not to mention inequality in pay) is still a driving force in a woman’s career. 

A woman’s age is used to define her, pigeonhole her into a certain type of role, and is sometimes used to exclude her from becoming a love interest, even to a much older male actor (we’re talking a 20 year age gap sometimes!). Actresses are under a lot of pressure to appear a certain way, for fear they won’t be considered for the roles they’re pursuing. 

When I was cooking on sets, I would watch many of the actresses eat like little birds, picking at vegetable trays and salads, while their male costars shoveled whatever they felt like onto their plates.

Luckily I’m not auditioning for a film role, so I can say proudly that I’ve earned every one of my 45 years. Not only that, I can say I’ve improved over time as a friend, wife, mother and now a writer. I see a few wrinkles around my eyes these days, but along with them I’ve accumulated a hugely supportive base of friends and fellow writers, so much love, a bit more knowledge, and lots more experience. 

So bring on the birthdays!

What’s the best birthday that you’ve ever had? Are you particularly fond of a special time of the year? How do you like to celebrate your milestone birthdays?
HANK: Do you even celebrate your birthday? J But here’s a present for you, either way! Shawn is giving away a copy of Murder on a Silver Platter and Murder on the Half Shell (ebook versions, your choice of platform) to one lucky commenter. SO even simply say: Happy Birthday! And you’re entered.

*****************

Shawn Reilly Simmons is the author of the Red Carpet Catering series featuring Penelope Sutherland, on-set caterer and chef to the stars (Henery Press). Murder on a Silver Platter and Murder on the Half Shell will be released on 2/23/16 and are available for pre-order now. Murder on a Designer Diet, the third book in the series, will be published in June. Shawn is on the Board of Malice Domestic and a member of Sisters in Crime. When she’s not writing, Shawn is running, cooking, drinking wine or reading. She lives in Maryland with her husband, son, and English bulldog.

www.ShawnReillySimmons.com

@ShawnRSimmons

Facebook.com/shawn.reillysimmons

Sisterhood of the Traveling St. Patrick' Day

Me, Mom, Barb. Note the missing teeth.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: St. Patrick's Day. Clover, green, leprechans (all hard to envision as i look out my window here in Maine and see nothing but snow, snow, snow.) Irish pubs, parades, corned beef and cabbage, GOING MY WAY and  FINIAN'S RAINBOW.  For me, however, St. Patrick's Day has always been, first and foremost, the day I became a sister. 


My first, my very first memory is of standing in my parents' sun-drenched Montgomery bedroom, peeping into the bassinet that held brand new baby Barbara. (We called her Barbie, of course, a nickname she outgrew before high school. Now she's Barb.) Our later encounters were not so gentle; my mother has a story of the time I dragged my hapless sister in a necklock from her crib to the kitchen, announcing, "The baby was crying." Fortunately the lack of oxygen didn't cause any permanent damage. In our middle childhood, I would tease Barb mercilessly - my favorite was to shriek, "Oh no! You have garments on your back!" I like to think I was responsible for expanding her vocabulary.

She was homecoming queen. With laser eyes, natch.

I was always a little jealous of my sister. She was a beautiful child, with big blue eyes and huge fluffy blonde curls and a heart-melting smile. I had glasses and an eye patch and went without my front teeth for three years after they got knocked out. She had school birthday parties, always St. Patrick's themed, with a green clover cake (my mother always crafted beautiful homemade cakes for us) or green cupcakes for twenty. My birthday was in June, always too late for a school celebration and too early for Independence Day. (Not that I'm complaining. My mom compensated by having our annual  trip to the amusement park on my natal day.) When we were college-aged and in our early twenties, Barb never had to pay for booze on St. Patrick's Day - boys would line up to buy her drinks when she announced it was her birthday.

At the 2009 Inaugural Ball with her HH.

She's grown up to be equally enviable. She's lovely and funny and vivacious, runs a successful face-painting business (no, I am not kidding!) has three handsome boys and a husband who looks like King Leonidas in 300 (no, I'm not kidding about that, either.) I'm not jealous, though, just happy that I have such a wonderful sister in my life.

Reds, please raise your steins of green beer and wish Barbara Scheeler a happy birthday! Who are the sisters and practically-sisters who make your St. Patrick's Day fun?


LUCY BURDETTE: What a nice tribute to your sister--happy birthday Barb! I have to say my older sister, (an "Irish twin" just eleven months older), was very gracious when I came along. We shared a room for most of our years, and teased our younger brother and sister without mercy. Oh, there was the one time that she and my cousin talked me into drinking kerosene from a tap, but I believe that was a friendly mistake:). I still remember the Ipecac, which now I realize was entirely the wrong remedy. 

I have to share my favorite St. Patty's day photo, which was taken by Hallie's husband Jerry several years ago in Key West. These girls have to be sorority sisters, don't you think? Tonka was in doggie heaven....


HALLIE EPHRON: Love that picture, Lucy! Tonka is a real show stopper. Chick magnet. And he basks so effortlessly.

I do not remember when my baby sister (Amy, 4 years younger) was brought home from the hospital. My mother had a baby nurse so it made very little impact on me. I do remember being left holding her on on the couch while my mother went to the bathroom. She rolled off.

Yes, I tortured her growing up. But not nearly as much as she tortured me. She refused to play the roles I assigned her -- baby to my mother, student to my teacher, slave to my queen.  Checkers, decks of cards, Scrabble pieces invariably ended up hurled to the floor with her refusing to pick them up.  But I've always been serenely secure in the knowledge that no matter how hard or how fast she pedals, I'll always be the older one.  Turns out she got the better end of that deal, too.


RHYS BOWEN: Am I the only one who doesn't have a sister? Not fair. I always wanted one but only had a brother seven years younger than me who was a little brat who scribbled with crayon over my homework (he's now an Episcopal minister so I guess he got better with age). And St Patrick's day was not celebrated at all in England. I'm feeling deprived all around. But I've had a wonderful group of women friends all my life--my college friends, with whom I still get together, my hiking friends who are my main therapists, and my mystery friends who turn work into fun. 

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Happy birthday, Barb! Like Rhys, I have no sisters. My mother was Scottish/Protestant and so she would tell me to wear orange on St. Patrick's Day and there were no treats. I always felt a bit deprived of the "Everyone is Irish" thing — but drank a lot of green beer in college to make up for it. Now, for my son, I'm making a green ombre cake. My husband just said, "What is ombre?" And I replied, "Many shades of green." And then he shot back: "50 Shades of Green — isn't that Irish porn?"

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Happy birthday, Barb!! 

No sisters, here, either, alas. But I've been lucky in sisters-in-law; my brother Steve's wife, Dorothy, my husband's sister, Tracy, my husband's brother Jason's wife, Julisa.  Adore them all. And then, of course, there are my Jungle Red sisters!  Raising a green beer to you--as long as I don't have to drink it! (Pic is from Thanksgiving, with Julisa Gary on the left and Tracy Wilson Burns on the right, lovely sises-in law!)

JULIA: Dear readers, I hope you'll join us in birthday wishes, St. Patty's Day reminiscences, and stories of sisters in the comments section!

                        Thanks for being such a great sister, Barb. Happy Birthday!