Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Lately, I've been thinking a lot of about growing (and getting) old. Perhaps its all the knee ailments, bum shoulders, back pain, and sore necks going around. Maybe its because I'm planning a special party for my Grandfather.

At any rate, I'm not going to dwell on the aches. I'm just going to recall some good times in the (now semi-distant) past when I felt young and the world was at my feet. I'm not totally washed up - I can still feel this way on nice day.


Whoa. Surely I don't need to go back that far! I think I am about 3 years old and at my Dad's parents house. I don't know what the specific occasion was for the photo session and there were so many visits to Grandmom's and Granddad's house.

I remember my grandmother on her knees, spade in hand, showing me how to help her in her flower beds. I planted many a tulip bulb and pansy. The front of the house had huge azaleas and the I can still mentally inhale the scent of the mica-flinted soil mixed with the geraniums. Going to Grandmom's was always a treat.

Another memory that stands out in my mind is her neighbor - a big plump German woman named Mrs. Kaiser. My grandmother always called her neighbors of 20-30 years(!) by Mr. or Mrs. and their last name. Anyway, Mrs. Kaiser would always say, "Ah, goot to sees youz leetle un, come en-sidez and I vil gives youz some crackers wif da butter on itz." I thought I was living like a King; real dairy butter on a saltine!


The date on the back of this picture is July 1967. That would make me six years old. I am on the far left with my two brothers. When I looked at this picture, I suddenly realized that the fish hadn't gotten smaller, I got bigger. Sort of like when you go back to your old elementary school and the halls seem so tiny and sitting at the desks - well that's just not going to happen again.

Along with the many indelible memories of going "deep sea" fishing with my dad and granddad, are those of riding my bike, swimming in the bay and ocean surf, looking for clams and crabs and of course, buried pirate treasure.

I played many rounds of mini-golf and show a lot of summer stock theater. To this day, I can smell the scent of the wind coming across the salt marsh mingled with the sizzling Crisco fat frying the eggplant and fish filets.


All my young years, my family had a dog (or two, or three). The first dog's name was Duchess. She was a cute little mutt and had a heart big enough for an elephant. She passed on when she was 17 years old and I was in High School. I came home from school one day, saw her waiting for me in the big picture window, opened the door, said "Hi ya Duchess!" and she ran to me, her tail wagging hard, and got half way across the floor and dropped dead from heart failure. Having an intense visual, near photographic memory can be bittersweet at times.

The handsome fellow in the picture name was Admiral Fritz the Third and of course we demeaned him by calling him, "Fritzy". Fritz was the first dog I trained to partake in obedience trials, he was willing, smart, and loved to please. When he grew older, he got spoiled and eccentric - he would beg for apple cores and banana peels and walk away from a steak t-bone. He enjoyed a good fish dinner, fried, boiled, stewed or raw and just off the hook. I learned never to ever stick my fingers in his face when he was chowing down - even if it was my fish and I was still trying to put it in the fish box.

My folks were rabid supporters of the Seeing Eye and led the local Seeing Eye effort to bring Guide Dogs to their special person. I lost track of how many German Shepards and Black and Yellow Labs we as a family raised and trained - nor, regrettably, can I remember all of their names.

We almost always adopted any dog we trained that washed out as a pet which is why we sometimes had as many as three dogs at once. The names of the adopted "washed out" dogs, however, I do remember. Big Girl (BeeGee or Beegz), Wolfgang (Wolfie), Sassafras (Sassy), Deidre, Duchess Deidre (DD), Molly, and the rest of them - some quirky, some neurotic, and all 100% lovable and loyal. The scent of sun warmed dog fur from a happy contented dog resting their head in my lap is a special one.

This is much, much longer than I intended - and you have undoubtedly fallen asleep, so I'll close here thinking there are probably a couple more diary entries to be made yet.

Hope you have a good day and you feel young and have the whole big world at your feet today.