Some People

Some people are just so damn kind. They listen to your pointless story and then laugh at the dumb punchline. They come way out of their way to visit when you're lying in bed sick. They take the time to listen to you rant and then tell you everything will be just fine. They remind you that you you're a good person with good qualities that they then go on to list. They stand up for you when you're being picked on and are unable to defend yourself. They go out of their way to make sure you feel welcome. Gosh, I sure hope these people know how much they are appreciated.

An Empty Hand

Tonight while taking my dog Scout for a walk, it became clear to me that something was missing. Something important. Or rather, someone.

All through high school I loved to take my dogs for walks, often after dark and sometimes while sporting my heavy winter coat. Mali liked to walk right next to me while Scout liked to walk way ahead, as far as his retractable leash would allow. Both dogs walked on the sidewalk and I walked in the gutter. Because of where they walked, Mali's leash would be in my hand closest to the sidewalk, Scout's in the other. When we crossed the street, I traded the leashes between my hands to keep this arrangement.

Mali's eyes aged much faster than the rest of her body, so eventually I was carrying two leashes and a flashlight while walking the dogs. The flashlight would be in the same hand as Mali's leash so I could shine it right in front of her. I'm not sure if this helped her much, but it gave her human family some peace of mind.

walking in the foothills with Mali (right) and Scout circa 2008

Now, Mali goes for a walk almost every day, but not with Scout. Her eyes have failed her and she can no longer walk on the sidewalk without falling off, so she walks in the middle of the street. When I am home, I am often the one who takes her on these strolls, much shorter and slower than our nighttime walks used to be.

It makes me smile to watch Scout enjoy our long walks, still usually staying at the very end of his retractable leash. He knows the routes by heart even though we don't walk together nearly as often now that I am in college and don't live at home most of the year. He's a fun walking buddy, but I still can't help to realize that although Mali is still alive, she is no longer able to join us on our nighttime adventures. Regardless of which hand I use to hold Scout's leash, I am always left with an empty hand that reminds me of someone very special.

Beautiful Camping Pictures

I spent my weekend camping and it was SO beautiful. These first pictures were early on Saturday morning (maybe 6:30am). It had been raining and raining, so there was beautiful mist in the morning.

The sun did finally come up!

the little stream by our campsite

looks like something from a calendar...

High Holy Day Memories

Sitting in Erev Rosh Hashanah services tonight, I started thinking about what I missed about being home this time of year and realized I have quite a few memories related to the High Holy Days. Some are funny… well, actually, most are funny! Without further adieu, I present to you my High Holy Day memories:

• my little brother Greg rushing out of the sanctuary headed for the oneg, weaving his four-foot self in and out of the adults slowly working their way out of the room as my mom tries desperately to get him to stand in line and wait like everyone else
• my dad playing football with all the kids at second day services in the mountains while the service is still in progress and getting reprimanded on the microphone by the rabbi for being too loud
• my mom being invited to read the same passage every year for Yom Kippur morning services; her sitting on the bimah while we waved at her from the congregation; her not waving back but smiling at us; my dad explaining that she cannot wave at us during the service while she is on the bimah
• Greg and I blowing our shofars all over the house for weeks before the High Holy Days
• leaning my head on my mom's shoulder during the never-ending sermon
• whispering with my dad during services and getting a glare from my mom
• my dad offering me food seemingly every five minutes on Yom Kippur when it was already difficult for me to fast as a teenager 
• building forts in the woods with the other kids during second day services in the mountains
• taking breaks from services to hang out and chat in the lounge
• being bewildered by the number of extra chairs set up that extend all the way to the back of the social hall
• being rushed to school after morning services; changing from temple clothes to school clothes in the car
• smiling at my mom every time a certain line was read that she doesn't like

Smokey Cooking

Tonight while cooking dinner, I nearly burned down my apartment building. OK, that's a slight exaggeration, but I definitely feared setting off the fire alarm, which probably would have been just as annoying to my fellow residents as if I burned down the building.

I was cooking spaghetti, as I often do, so I put a chunk of defrosted ground beef in a pan and turned on the burner. Then I filled a pot with water and started cooking the noodles. I wandered off for a moment, checking a text on my phone while I waited for my food to cook.

As usual, the beef began to sizzle. But then, the beef REALLY began to sizzle. I suddenly realized I had turned the burner on high instead of medium and was burning my food. Soon the pan started emitting thick campfire-like smoke, and I quickly turned off the heat and moved the pan to another burner. This did not solve the problem.

With smoke now filling my entire apartment, the thought of setting off the fire alarm was hot on my mind. I grabbed the sizzling, smoking pan and ran out the front door, all the while hoping I would not hear the dreaded blaring sound signaling evacuation. My resident advisor was walking across the grass on the first floor and looked up at where I was standing on the third floor, wondering what the sizzling noise was. I yelled down to her that I was fine and just trying not to set off the fire alarm. She smiled and kept walking.

I stood out there for what seemed like an eternity before the pan finally stopped smoking. When it did, I rushed back inside, put the pan on a cool burner, and opened all the windows in the apartment. Then, I waited.

The smoke eventually cleared, and I was able to return to cooking dinner. About half of the beef was burned, so I threw that part away and continued cooking the un-burned portion. The noodles soon finished cooking, and, with no fire alarm after all, I sat down to enjoy my spaghetti.

The Dog Poop Dilemma

A few nights ago, as I often do when I'm home, I took my dog Scout with me for a run. We run on a paved path that sits parallel to a major street. We usually run 1.5 miles and then turn around and come back.

I bring bags with me whenever I run or walk Scout, and he usually goes within the first five minutes or so. But that night, he waited until we were a good 3/4 mile from the starting point. I bagged up the excrement and set it on the side of the path, planning to pick it up on the way back. We got to our turnaround point, and on the way back, I realized that if I were to pick up the bag I had left, I would have to run with it for 3/4 mile. Being an only marginally good citizen in that instance, I left the bag sitting on the side of the path and finished the run.

The next evening, I took Mali, our older dog, for a walk. I decided to try to find the bag Scout and I left the previous night, so Mali and I walked along the same path. Sure enough, about 3/4 mile in, I saw the bag sitting right where I had left it the previous night! I picked it up and carried it back to our starting point, where I found a trash can and disposed of it. So yes, I left the poop in a bag on the side of the road for 24 hours, but I eventually helped it find its way to the trash.

Mali's Shenanigans

My dog Mali is 12 now. As she declines, I have started taking more videos of the silly things she does that I take for granted, because I want to remember her long after she is gone. Here are two recent ones:

During summer 2011 my parents left me home alone for a week while my brother was at a camp and they were on a vacation just the two of them. During that week, Mali found some weird bugs in the yard at night and ate a ton of them. I figured she wiped out the whole species (at least from our yard) because I hadn't seen them since… until she found another one the other night!

Mali and the Crunchy Bug

Mali loves carrots! Listen closely and you can hear the crunch sound as she chews them up. So cute!