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Life and Love

We decided to marry one Monday night, giving me four days to plan an elopement. As we are about to enter our 15th year of marriage I would like to thank our families and friends for sticking with us.

Tuesday afternoon we asked the Admiral (of the family clan, she ran the family ship) and Captain to help us out. She was a witness and we asked the Captain to be Deputy Marriage Commissioner for the day and marry us. After he went to the other room to collect his thoughts (their three sons called me “sis”) he returned and said yes, as long as he could write the vows. OK, I’ll type them up for you in caps, double-spaced. OK, deal. Then I told him he couldn’t marry random people on the street, only me and my husband!

We had a lovely lunch for eight then went to our new home, the Barbie House to call our folks. My favorite Italian restaurant gave us wedding cake. Then my husband lifted me through the doorway. There’s probably a bad photo of my butt on that one!

Life gives conundrums. How does one deal with this tax situation, this business debacle, everything. Yes, we disagree, a lot, but still love one another. I just feel like the skimpy little sister that only drafted laws for 34 million people and created articles of incorporation and bylaws for several non-profits. Ergo the skimpy little sister. I cannot say anything about my role as a consultant as it is not accepted because it was “only a non-profit.”

Now we spend our days creating bank accounts and finding accountants and lawyers. I need to meet them all, because otherwise even though I put my husband (as of 15 years) on my bank accounts and all accounts thereafter, when I called our bank they would say they couldn’t talk to me without my husband’s authorization because I’m “just the wife.”

Love and friendship have no limits between us. The people we need to help us in business, and the government, must know that I am an entity that has signing authority and knows everything. If, I knocked wood, my husband was hit by a bus I could sell the business or hire a designated professional to run it.

Love and friendship. Together, forever. Add dear old dog Zoe and it’s our family that will always be taken care of. Zoe and I will go before he does and I tried to have him promise to re-marry. It’s what I do to take care of business. Dee


Vision and Wisdom

I think they go together. I’ve a vision of life, but my physical vision is going as I age. My husband told me a story of his childhood. His parents always loved him and took care of his health. His teacher asked them to take him to the eye doctor. He was fitted for serious glasses at an early age so that he could later correct a math teacher and ask questions she could not answer.

When he walked out on the street with his new glasses he could actually see cars and the business names across the street. He thought being half-blind was normal, as kids do. I thought all grandpas had one leg. It was normal. He doesn’t tell that story, except to me and immediate family. I cry when I hear it because he couldn’t see the blackboard but still knew more than anyone else. He had to try harder, and milk cows in the morning and after school on the dairy. He can see, has vision and another vision and purpose as to life.

If one is reading every interviewer answer as a potential consultant from books that give vision and wisdom 101, they may be hired because Daddy said so. We never worked that way.

My husband and I know the answers to our respective professions. Why? One cannot teach wisdom from a book, it comes from age and experience. As is vision. Mission, vision you have to be able to sit there in a client interview and answer questions from expertise and maturity. And wisdom. For that there is no shortcut. Dee


As to interior design, I’ve no experience but have made good decisions according to our parameters.

For several years I’ve been working with a framer. What good is art if it is in a box in storage! In the front entrance it’s mostly yellow, orange and red. Two of my father’s works of Tuscan and Maori origins, and one a wood block from Japan, the first artist to ever do full-color wood block prints in the 1700’s. Something about a letter to a courtesan. If a kid comes in here and asks, I just say her little sister is delivering the mail.

Then you see the kitchen, a mash-up of culinary memorabilia and one homage to dance from the Stuttgart Museum, just a Degas fan print currently in a plastic frame for over thirty years.

The living room ended up mostly blues and browns and charcoal. I had a charcoal drawing taken out of the cheap “uni-frame” it came in nearly 30 years ago, a gift from Dad from a winner of an art school review. My inspiration came from Dad. The owner was at the shop, not K, my usual consultant who throws ideas at me to consider and has a great eye for framing art.

I decided on everything myself with no consultation except to use a fillip. It is a charcoal sketch of dancers and I wanted to evoke the movement of the dancers with a dark red mini-matte, beaded fillip, charcoal matte and undulating frame. Five layers. I called K the day after and wanted to ask if I made any major errors without her. She didn’t let me ask, she just said that she loved my choices and she couldn’t wait to work on it.

Dad’s charcoal gem was done two days after his funeral so he never got to see it. It is a focal point of our living room along with a quilt which portrays the seasons, a gift created by my mother-in-law. Most of the colors are blues and browns. The blues include small paintings from an artist in Florence.

The only thing in the den worthy of note is a gift to my husband, a B/W photo of the Brooklyn Bridge that I had framed for him that one sees directly upon entering our abode.

The hallway and entrance to the master are the “greens.” Mostly photos I, family and friends took. Each photo has a different green hued matte. Our bedroom has a large Tuscan scene painted by Dad in his 80’s, when he took up art. My husband’s favorite is a crayon drawing from me, of me at age five, of me/Dorothy with the scarecrow, lion and tin man. I’ve also one for him waiting at the bus stop with his old dog who brought the brothers there in the morning and picked them up in the afternoon.

There is also a collage of a play book for a theater event I created and had funded. In the hallway to the bedroom there are also framed collages of my parents’ wedding, and one of me and my sister as little kids.

Yes, I’ve things to add. Dad gave me artwork from southern Italy that shows the seasons. Once I get those framed they’ll go in our room or the den, I’ll figure it out to echo his Mom’s creation. I just didn’t know that my individual choices became themes until now. Two more walls to go. I’ll work on it.

I had a cooking toolbox, red metal, that I decorated in culinary photos. It now holds small office equipment and looks cool next to my desk. All we need now is to move to the country on land with a view and use all our shared experience to build the right home. Cheers! Dee


The first week my husband started this blog for me WordPress placed us up for the best of the newbies. I got in touch with her to say congrats and hello and we’ve had a relationship for many years yet have never met.

Before my time is gone I would like to meet her. We know about our families and friends yet have not ever had the chance to greet each other in person.

We’re both “foodies” and I’d love to meet her in the market in her town. Cheers! Dee

What Would They Say?

Mom has been gone nearly nine years. Dad died over the holidays. They separated on their 35th wedding anniversary then divorced. Mom was Catholic. Divorce was not allowed. I still got her a Catholic Priest for Last Rites at hospice. For more info on that search on this site Fr. McGuinness. It’s a great story.

They called us in for the separation announcement, brought us to a patio table and told us. My brother said “It’s about time!” It’s just like him, which is why I love him. He’s the one that as a kid when Mom asked him to set the table, he’d say “Wrongo, moose breath!” And she’d laugh and have us do it.

I would hope that now, meeting on another figurative plane, they would ask about the kids, and perhaps mend some fences. Both of them made errors, as my husband and I do in our marriage. Everyone makes mistakes in life. It’s a given.

One of these days I’ll meet my brother and we’ll go to Dad’s grave where the stone was recently placed. We had a family, home cooked meals and family dinner, required every night

and there were no cell phones or laptops in those days. “How was your day, dear?” It’s 6:30 Sunday morning and I must take the dog out. Cheers! Dee

He Knows

My husband has been home writing a book for the summer (and driving me nuts) so it won’t be anything you can get at your local bookstore. It’s a software training book. I’m waiting to read it to edit fresh, and may ask later that you place it on your bedside table instead of warm milk, to sleep.

I’m glass half-full, he’s more analytical and skeptical so he’s half empty. In certain times it is the reverse. He knows things will work out and I worry. Reversal of roles. In certain times I make him steak with chimichurri, or Mom’s orange chicken (my version) when I would make for myself grilled cheese or a toasted peanut butter sandwich and eat it over the sink.

Luckily our old dog Zoe doesn’t remember her first four weeks of life with fleas and worms. We’ve had her over 13 years and she knows the present, a bit of the past but no future.

I know past, present and future because I think about and dream about things and look forward to a log cabin on a lake with a view of mountains. Sometimes I know things my husband does not. As a woman I’m more intuitive although I’ve taught him a lot over the years! I just can’t tell him my conclusion or how I came to it. No, his mother will read this and he’ll know it in an hour! Cheers, Dee

Cute, Sharp Knives

and Chimichurri. I ran into several folks early this morning. One said I looked “cute” and I thought of the year I turned the dreaded 40 and waited for the day a store clerk asked for proof of age for me to buy a bottle of wine. A few days before I turned 41 and met my husband for the first time, I was asked and I thanked her because they said they only “carded” shoppers who looked under 30 and I’d been there nearly every day for years.

Now on the cusp of another age change, a woman said I looked cute. Nearly 60 and cute. I like it and don’t like it because on one side it says I’m young and vibrant. That’s her. With others, they don’t take me seriously, including my husband. I was a consultant years before he was one. I gave it up because he was dragging me around the country and world. I no longer have the support for a private practice, not that one can be built in two years and move elsewhere. The internet doesn’t work for my kind of business.

Before dinner, if we want to stretch time, my husband eats an apple. He cuts it his own way and uses my favorite knife, a paring knife I bought for cooking school nearly 30 years ago. He sharpened it. I was used to a certain feel as I cut and seeded the jalapenos but it was different. I was talking with him and cut my thumb, deeply. It was bleeding and throbbing so I stepped out.

Ordinarily he is not allowed in my kitchen except to get water and Dr. Pepper. He followed my instructions and finished the chimichurri. He had steak, tiny multi-colored potatoes and was supposed to have part of a large heirloom tomato. In the middle of the night my “dinner” was 1/2 cup of chocolate milk.

We made a full recipe of this so we could give some to a friend. He must know that when I took myself out of the game to hold my cut finger over my head, my rookie line cook came on and finished the job. He just happens to be a genius, physicist, mathematician, software engineer and consultant. Friend, you are lucky!

We’ll ¬†check my bandages later and see if I need stitches. It was a clean but deep cut. At least I’m cute! Cheers! Dee