Thursday, July 23, 2015

A Tale of Two Kitties

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times....

Once upon a time, in a place called Mequon, there lived a little girl named Meghan. Meghan loved kittens with all her heart. She wanted a kitten so badly. Every Christmas and birthday when her parents asked her what kind of present she wanted, "a kitten" was always at the top of her list. Finally when Meghan turned ten years old, her parents agreed to get her a kitten...she was so happy!

Meghan's birthday was in March, which was not the time of year for kittens. Her friend, Mrs. Yingling, worked with the animal shelter and she said that if Meghan waited patiently, in a few months there would be many adorable kittens to choose from. Months went by, and finally in August, Meghan and her mom and her brothers, Patrick and Connor, went to go see the kittens at the shelter. They all fell in love with an adorable and loving little kitten named "Kitkat". His brother "Snickers" had already been adopted, but his sister, "Annie" was also looking for a home. (Now here I must let you in on an important fact. Meghan's father was concerned about getting a kitten, as he thought that he was allergic to cats, particularly male cats like Kitkat.) Meghan and her brothers and her mother worried, "what if we get Kitkat, and then father is allergic to him, and we have to give him up?!" That would have made them all so very sad. So they decided to be safe and adopt both Kitkat and Annie - that way they would still have at least ONE kitten!

Kitkat and Annie were finally ready to come home and live with Meghan's family on August 18, Patrick's birthday! (Because everything always happens on Patrick's birthday...) They were so cute. Kitkat was the friendliest little ball of fur with a heart full of love, He was always happy to be around his new family. His sister, Annie, liked playing with him...but didn't really want to play with them. She never hissed or was mean, she just preferred her furry brother over her adopted family.


Kitkat and Annie continued to grow and loved running up and down the stairs, particularly in the middle of the night! Meghan and her family were so happy that father wasn't allergic to either of their beloved kittens. Then one day Meghan's parents told her they were moving...across the world...all of the way to Japan! So what would happen to the kittens? Despite the snickers (no pun intended) of some of their family and friends, the family decided to bring the kittens with them - what else could they do? They could not give them up now. 


After a couple of very long flights (with an overnight in LA!), Kitkat and Annie finally landed at Narita Airport in Tokyo. They spent a few weeks there in quarantine, and finally were allowed to come to their new home at House Apricot. It was quite scary at first, particularly for Kitkat (he was quite a "scaredy-cat"). But it didn't take long before they grew used to their new surroundings. Annie loved to jump over to a ledge with a big round window and look over the huge city. Kitkat was too scared to make that jump, but sometimes cautiously crept his way across the divide so that he could join her.




Then one summer evening, while Meghan and her brothers and her mother were back in the US, Kitkat became very, very sick. Meghan's father was so alarmed and took him immediately to the vet. Unfortunately Kitkat's heart was so enlarged (perhaps, because it was just so full of love for his family!) that he couldn't be saved. Meghan's father was so very sad to make the call back to his family in the US. The very kind veterinarian in Tokyo understood how difficult this was, and kept poor little Kitkat nice and cool and preserved until the rest of them returned to the city and could say their goodbyes.

Understandably, Annie was at a loss. Where was her brother, her friend, her confidant? She didn't know what to do. Gradually, she came around and began to enjoy spending time with her remaining family. They actually weren't so bad after all. Her loss was the family's gain.

Then it became time to move again. This time Annie joined the family on their flight from Tokyo to NYC. Fortunately there was an open spot next to Patrick, and her little carrier could sit up on a seat for the 15 hour long flight. After a few days at the Holiday Inn, the family moved into their new home in Summit. Once again, it took Annie a while to figure out her new surroundings, but soon she was comfortable again, hanging out on her kitty condo and watching the squirrels, deer and birds frolic through the back yard. From her perch on the back of the living room sofa the neighborhood dogs walking by all day weren't even that scary - as long as they didn't come in the house! The years went by....Patrick went off to college...Meghan went off to college...Patrick graduated from college and returned home...Connor went off to college...but mother and father (well, mostly mother) were always there. 


Then one day, Meghan's father found out he would be moving to Switzerland. Mother and father didn't think Annie, at the age of 12, would want to move all of the way across the world again. Since Patrick was still living in the house in Summit, she could stay with him. He would go to work, and she would be there waiting for him when he came home. They enjoyed their quiet time together, even when the power went out and it got very cold in the house.

When Patrick went away (which he often did), Christina and her mom, or maybe Mrs. McLean, would come over to take care of her. Annie would often offer up her belly for rubbing when they came over (as long as they left their dogs outside!!). 

Change was coming again. Patrick decided to move to London, and Meghan's parents decided to sell their house in Summit. Now Annie would have to move to Switzerland. So at the ripe old age of 14, Annie and Meghan's mother took another trip across a different ocean to a new home. This new place was kind of scary for poor Annie. It was noisy - outside and inside! When little Annie walked across the floor, even she made noise - from the click of her toe nails to the creak of the old wooden floor boards. This would take some time to get used to. 


Once Annie was feeling a bit more comfortable in her new home, she came to really like it. She loved drinking out of the bathroom faucet, and laying in the sunny spots as they moved throughout the day. Mother would invite people over, and Annie would come to say hi to them all - particularly those that were allergic to cats...or afraid of them. Then sometimes Patrick, Meghan or Connor would come to visit - how confusing that was! Meghan's parents found new sitters for Annie when they went away. These sitters would send photos and videos of her - everyone loved little Annie.


Then Annie, who was already quite small, started getting smaller and feeling sick more often.  Meghan's father and mother loved Annie very much, and tried to make her feel better and keep her happy.  But, Annie decided that sitting on the sofa and rubbing her head on the side of the laptop wasn't what she needed any more. She wanted to run and play games with her old pal Kitkat. Meghan and her mother and her father and Patrick and Connor were very, very sad - but Annie and Kitkat are now running up and down endless staircases, talking back to birds of all sizes and shapes, and getting belly rubs from the angels.




Thursday, March 5, 2015

100 Bad Hair Days...


About this time last year, I was in the middle of the "100 Happy Days" Challenge - post a photo of what makes you happy every day for 100 days - and see how much happier you'll be! As fun and challenging as that was, a new year calls for a new challenge.  

Sometime in 2014 I started pondering the idea of NOT coloring my hair any more.  I started to secretly read up on women who had chosen to go with their "natural" hair color...and how they did it. However I kept touching up my roots every 3 weeks or so at home, and then another two or three weeks later at the salon. An endless cycle that always had me checking the calendar for when my next big event or trip away was - would it fit in with my colouring "schedule" so that those awful roots wouldn't make an unwanted appearance? 

I started going grey quite early - I seem to recall high school classmates pulling a grey hair or two from my head in class.  In college, one of my roommates had a good high school friend who was a hairdresser.  This hairdresser friend suggested that she color my hair for me.  I allowed her to, and ended up feeling like my head was covered in black shoe polish.  That ended that for quite a few years.

When I look back at photos when our children were young, I see quite a lot of grey hair peeking out in those images.  I'm not sure when I finally decided to do something about it, but I do know that I eased my way into the process - adding "low lights" rather than a permanent color all over.  The low lights seemed to work - until someone asked me if I was naturally a blond - I'd never been blond in my entire life!  Looks like it's time for full-on hair color!  That was at least 15 years ago.

With Patrick in summer of 1989.

With Steve in the mid-90's

Fast forward to December 2014.  One day I was scrolling through Facebook and noticed a photo of my college roommate with her newly grey hairstyle.  Wow...if she could do it, so could I!  That was just the push I needed. 

Of course, I had to have one final color for the holidays...but that last color was December 22.  It's now been nearly ten weeks.  I haven't mentioned it to too many people - although I'm sure those that see me around Zurich are likely wondering when on earth is she going to get those roots taken care of!!   Since the "skunk stripe" is becoming harder to camouflage...and I'm about to go for my second "cut only" salon appointment...I figured the time to "go public" was now.  

So...that's my story.  I don't know how it's going to end.  I hope I'll end up with a head of beautiful silver hair with an awesome stylish cut that makes me wish I had done it years ago.  If I end up looking 85...I can always dye it again.  In any event, for the next couple of months my hair may be in that "awkward phase" - but I'm looking forward to the journey!  I can always wear my Fasnacht wig if I need to!  


(But just remember..."If you can't say anything nice....")