If you were to take these two

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and multiply them by two

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then add

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this

plus this

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what do you get? 

Four great friends having a wonderful time.

'Nuf said.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I recently got a birthday gift from long-time friends, Mike and Katy B.  Katy was Jessica's first trainer....uhm... 13? years ago?  (Katy and I were both very young at the time, natch).  Well, Katy and Mike are horse friends, not goat friends, and gave me a packet of Birria in my goodie bag.  Birria is (apparently) seasoning for goat stew.  Ha Ha!  So I responded with a thank you note.....

"Hi Guys -- I just wanted to take a minute to thank you for remembering my birthday with such goodies! I will enjoy the olives and giggled at the card... but because we have been friends for so long, I feel I can be honest with you and let you know that I was a bit disappointed in the other part of the gift: the Birria. I know you meant well, but, frankly the gift was a bit of a let down....
I read the Birria package and it says, "This special combination (of spices) will create (an) UNFORGETTABLE goat." You can imagine my excitement!
So according to the directions, I mixed "this blend with cooking oil and generously coat(ed) the (goat) and let it marinade overnight." In fact, I've let it marinate for TWO nights.
And I am sorry to report, at this time, that my goats remain not only forgettable, but rather smelly and annoyed..."

 

and Mike's repsonse

(How did I know it was Mike and not Katy?

 Because there's only one S in "focusing")

 

 

Dear Denise,

We received your news, first with confusion, and then, increasingly baffled and slightly alarmed, we contacted the manufacturers and demanded a full and complete explanation.


The manager in Guadalajara took a liking to me and explained that they had had certain issues with various suppliers which had been compounded by cultural incompatibilities, language barriers, and training exigencies. The spice blenders in Shanghai, understandably focussing on issues of potency (as, alas, they inevitably do), had problems with their usual Kenyan herbal sources, and in their efforts to meet the exact Mexican specifications they may have resorted to making certain substitutions, using more commonly available substances which they learned of on their email spam lists.


These details regarding the exact product formulation were further compounded by the marketing department in Delhi who wrote the directions for use, originally in Hindi, and it seems that THEY were not only strict vegetarians, but had interpreted the phrase "You will LOVE this goat" in, shall we say, a somewhat unusual (and possibly felonious) manner, at least in many of our fine Southern states.


To make a long story short, nobody can guarantee that this last batch of product will make your goats "unforgettable". However there is a small risk of enhanced activities in the goat enclosure, and subsequent demands, by the goats, for more of the product.


We feel badly for this mixup: Please accept our sincere apologies.


PS: We were advised that you should, under NO circumstances, put some of the spice on your husbands clothing and then ask him to feed the goats.
 
(aren't friends grand?)

Happy Birthday!

July was birthday month here in my neck of the woods.  Trish and Stephanie and Vicki all have July b-days, so I went to TWO whole parties.  I don't go out a whole lot.  I'm too old, too tired, and too grumpy, I suppose. 

Anyway, we celebrated Trish's and Stephanie's day with a make-your-own-pizza party over at Trish's.   We had everything you can think of to put on a pizza....

Yum-yum-yum!!!

and of course, we girls wanted to preserve the festivities with a photo op and a birthday toast...

...and as that champagne flowed, some of us got a little more relaxed...

pizza toppings were discussed....

as well fashion and parenting tips.....and perhaps that age-old question arose: Can you feel your nose...err, ears?

...we had  a blast and got some really cute photos............

...but I got to thinking... should we preserve only the "good" photos?  Aren't the "bad" photos, the ones memories are made of?

...how about the one where we girls wanted to show the camera our "best side"...

...or the "true" us...

...or where I'm demonstrating a facelift technique...

...or this one which captures, I think, the essence of our friendship...

...it's just a blur of nonstop talk and waving hands...

and my favorite...

when I'm 80, I want to look at this one, remember, and laugh all over again...

what is it with me and birthdays?

Well, in my latest string of assaults on my loved ones, I missed Matt's birthday.  I didn't forget it, but I missed calling him on the right day.  I thought of it two days before, but thought I'd wait til that day.  Then I thought of it three days after.  Matt is one of my closest friends and confidantes and his birthday the last day of June.  Is it really that hard to remember?  Am I really that much of an airhead?

I never forget Allan's, Larry's, or Jess's birthdays; but I can't remember my anniversary.  I have to pull out the wedding license to look.  Two years ago, I actually convinced Allan that he had the date wrong and we celebrated a day early...

For the last three years in a row, I've called Robert O. the day after his birthday to wish him happy day.  Last year, I was in NJ in August when we celebrated Tab's birthday.  I asked why we were celebrating a day early...and, apparently, we weren't.

I've never gotten Diane's kids' b-days right, and usually call them the day before or the day after to start singing. Sheesh.

In November of '09, I was up NorCal to judge a goat show and spent a couple of extra days visiting Dad and Diane.  I had Diane's birthday gift ready and told her wanted to bake her a cake and celebrate the night I left, since her birthday was the next day.  She gave me a really odd look: Mom's birthday was November 20th; Diane's is the 25th.

I guess I take after my dad.  Long ago when he took me down for a military ID, he put down the wrong day.  When he took for my driver's license, he actually had the year wrong...

Matt, I love you.  I'm sorry I did it again!

Breast Cancer...

... it's what I feel like blogging about.  Two things are huge in my mind whenever I think about my adventures in oncology. One is Trish's dinners; the other is passing my NPGA judge's license.  They have nothing to do with one another; but are the two highpoints of that time -- if you can have a highpoint with cancer.
#1. Some background) Trish and I have been friends for a long time; sometimes it feels like we've known each other forever.   We're more like siblings in some regards (mostly because I wouldn't feel comfortable to bitch at someone like I bitch at Trish unless we were really close and, I suspect, vice-versa).  Trish and I have a LOT of history -- (aside to TW: remember when I had a screaming fit AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS at an ECHO horseshow? Now, before you get all cocky, remember the Faith-and-the-Flat-Medal fiasco? Well, we did survive both of those).


When my mom died, Trish took charge and supplied us with dinner, wine, some flowers, and a lot of comfort.  When Trish's mom was dying, I went and sat with her.  Of course in true Trish-and-Denise fashion, the exchange went something like this (Trish's mom was nearing the end and was not responding to us):


TW: MOM, ARE YOU DOING OKAY?  I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW I'M HERE WITH YOU?
DF: Angela, it's Denise.  Remember me?  I'm Jess's mom.
TW: MOM? I LOVE YOU. 
DF: Angela, we're here with you.
TW: I'M HERE, MOM. EVERYTHING'S GOING TO BE OKAY.
DF: (an aside to TW) Jesus, Trish, what are you yelling about?  She knows we're here.  She may not be responding, but you don't have to yell.
TW: (whispering back) What are you talking about?  I have to yell!  Even at her best, she's been deaf for years now!
DF: Oh, yeah..... ANGELA.  IT'S DENISE. HOW ARE YOU?


So, on to ---
#1A, subtitled "The Best Meals I Never Ate"
     After I was diagnosed with BC, part of my treatment was chemotherapy.  I had 8 rounds of chemo in five months.  My first treatment was December 31st, 2007.  My last was June 9, 2008, two days after Jess's high school graduation and exactly one week before I tested for my NPGA judge's license.  I scheduled chemo treatments on Mondays with the hope I'd be back to work by Thursday or Friday. 


     Trish arranged for our friends to supply meals for my family for the week whenever I had a treatment.  Every week -- every single week -- that I had chemo, my friends showed up with homecooked meals for me and my family. I had eight rounds of chemo.  That's forty dinners.  Forty dinners were cooked and delivered to my door.  Most I couldn't eat.  But they were the best dinners I've ever had.


Today I am still in awe by this feat.  I am grateful and humbled and thankful for the generosity, support, and love that I received.  Thank you, Trish.