Hi there, come on in.  Thanks for stopping by after another long and active day.  Yes, it was.  Oh, how wonderful!  You're always so sweet to bring a fresh melon.  I hear the Crane melon is in season around the Northern coast of California.  Someone I love told me that.  Grab a seat, would you like some wine?  Oh yes, I am.  Didn't I say long and active day?  Might even have one glass too many, but we're all friends.  You'll forgive me for falling asleep.  Two servings of friendship disguised as cheap Zinfandel in plastic cups coming right up - priceless. 

Priceless ... Sox, come here.  I want to tell you a story.  When you were born, you were one of many unwanted little treasures.  I didn't know you, yet.

During your first year running around without human playmate, you met the mosquito who carried the heartworm disease.  I didn't know you, yet.

A friend of a friend mentioned a young Boxer and her brother needed a home.  The stately brother found an owner immmediately, but never a home within.  The sister, unwanted, found me.  She needed me to help her live.  I know you now.

You went through so much to become healthy, my aging puppy.  Please stay with me as long as you possibly can.  Even if you snore louder than I do, even if you make a mess when you eat and even if you knock folks over.  Just stay.

Who do you need to stay?

Hi there, come on in.  What have you there?  It smells divine!  No, Sox.  Not for you, dear.  Here, I'll go put it in the kitchen with the other goodies while you grab a seat.  Whoa ... thanks for the pot holders, it is amazing how aluminum foil can capture the heat of the moment when it comes to food.  Did you double wrap?  Good idea.  On my way back, may I bring you something?  Sure, no problem.  Someone else is at the door -  my hands are full so please let them in, thanks.  Hey!  Man, this is shaping up to be a wonderful evening meal with friends.  You do know that calories don't count after 10:00 PM?

Just look at the kitchen counter crowded with a bounty of wonderful surprises.  What a blessing to have good food with wonderful friends with which to share.  I made my baked macaroni and cheese with croutons.  The secret is in the bread - Asiago cheese.  When seasoned just right and baked lightly makes a fabulous crouton or two.  I know!  I simply adore cheese of all kinds ... like a guilty secret betrayed by the long string that won't let go.  Good to see you, just sit it on the table over there.  What did you make?

Gosh, I'm starving.  Someone grab the paper plates and napkins.

Hi there, come on in.  What?  Oh, she's great, thank you so much for asking.  How was your day?  I understand, sometimes you just need to remember you're loved.  And you are, so make yourself useful and put on some music.  Will a plastic glass of wine help?  Me, too.  You're the first on the sofa, or snag the ugly blue chair if you'd like.  

Yes, I was!  I'm much better, having had time to reflect.  Thank you for letting me vent my frustrations last night, what an ass I am for putting you all through it.  Can't say I regret my words, though, for I rarely do.  But your kindness and consideration treated me to a gift seldom available.  You listened to me.  You each have a piece of my heart for that.

Hmm?  Oh, yes, wonderful choice.  Soft and gentle, perfect for this late summer evening.  I'm in the mood to sway.  Not really what most refer to as 'dancing', just putting my arms around a friend and swaying to the music.  No fancy steps, no need to feel like you're not good enough for public consumption.  Close your eyes, let the music surround you and sway.  With love.

May I have this sway?  
   

Hi there, come on in.  I meant to be here earlier, but my Mom fell and wound up in the emergency room.  She's fine, really, safe and sound at home with a broken wrist and a few stitches.  No, she's just not as steady on her feet sometimes as she was when younger.  Who is, right?  Go find a seat, throw on some music while you're at it, will you?  I haven't had a chance to get to the stereo ... Sox assaulted me upon arrival and demanded my immediate attention.

I've always been secretly pleased with my seemingly endless supply of patience.  I bore easily, but have always thought myself practically virtuous when it came to patience.  Have patted same self on the back numerous times, feeling oh - so gifted.  But let me tell you, one evening spent in the emergency room has brought that little fantasy to a grinding halt.  I honestly mean no disrespect to the hardworking folks therein, doing their difficult jobs with utmost professionalism.  Tonight I hated each and every one of them.  I think my Mom will let me get away with saying that because she hated them more than I.  Over three hours to put a few stitches in an arm and a wrist in a splint.  No bone set, no big production, a splint.  Never saw a doctor, just a hundred and twenty-three other people who popped in and said they'd be right back.  Or one of the other hundred and twenty-three people would be.  Her wrist was 'apparently fractured' but no one could say for sure because they did not have access to the X-rays.  Or couldn't read them.  Or weren't allowed to say.  The twenty-second person did admit that 'apparently fractured' did, indeed, probably, maybe mean 'apparently broken'.  Well, hell, when it's swollen to the size of a football and very crooked even I - and I don't play a doctor on TV - could have told me that.  So we settled for my word for it.  She pushed that little call button three times just to have someone stop by so we wouldn't get lonely.  I warned her she'd be blacklisted, but that saintly mother of mine who never loses her cool and has the patience of Jobe replied, 'Screw it.  I hate them'.

How's your patience?   

Hi there, come on in.  What?  Hold on ... will someone turn that down, please?  Thank you!  My fault, I'm sorry, had it up too loud before you got here.  Cool speakers, aren't they?  They're old and really big, but just feel that sound.  The ever slight vibration through the floorboards.  You think so?  Yes, so do I.

They don't make speakers like they used to, you know.  Stereos, either.  Do you remember the days of the eight track?  That hurt, and Sox likes to keep her toys, thank you.  Ouch!  All right then - cassette players?  At least this time it's a pillow ... 

Some of us were talking about LP albums last night.  I wonder if anyone under twenty knows what LP even represents.  Not just specifically, but what those initials stood for when it came to the journey of music.  There was a talent required to drop that needle in just the right spot so you didn't hear too much dead air.  Nothing more annoying than a skip.  Although, on a favorite album you memorized the skip spot and were at the ready to touch the needle lightly.  How many of us never bothered to put the record back in it's cover?  What did it matter then when we were young and learning to dance.

Yes, I've heard about those.  My sentimental albums will sadly only play on in my mind.  That joy in dancing caused me to neglect the music.  What was that?  Oh, I know.  Practically everything can be replaced with some new technology.  But I'll always miss that little scratching sound at the beginning when my needle aim wasn't true.

Did you have a record player?  I miss mine.  

Hi there, come on in.  Did you have a great Sunday?  I did -  have been as lazy, useless and downright slack as that dog over there.  I've learned alot of things from her over the years.  Like how to be perfectly happy making a mess when you're eating something fabulous.  That reminds me!  I have a watermelon in the frig ... want some?  Anything else?  No problem.  Grab a seat.  What was that?  You're right, slices probably are best.  Sox, get down, please.  Don't worry, I've learned alot from her but have avoided the urge to jump on people.  Most of the time.

Everyone should make a mess at least once a day.  It doesn't matter how.  Knock over your coffee cup, drop something sloppy on the floor, pull the junk drawer out too far or cover your face with watermelon.  No napkin allowed.  You know how great it is to see a kid on their first birthday with the cake?  We urge them on, just dying to see how big of a mess they can make and snapping pictures all the while.  Well, what's good enough when you're one is good enough when you're not.  Kind of like being silly just for the pure joy of being silly.  Nothing better in this world than making someone laugh so hard they cry because you're silly - or really messy.  Embarrassing?  Nonsense!!  Makes you memorable.  One last thing.  And this is the important part.  Never forget to laugh with them.  At yourself.  If you can do that, you have the secret to a happy life right there in your messy hands.   

So here's the challenge.  Can you be messy?