My Dog Has Worms

Our dog, Duke, was diagnosed with whipworms. Apparently they’re very common in dogs that live in shelters. Duke had his first vet appointment this week, exactly one week after we obtained him from a shelter.

I purposely didn’t say “after we rescued him,” because I think that term borders on self-aggrandizement. We didn’t pluck him from the midst of a pack of raving wolves, or unhook his leash from a rusted-out chain link fence in a neighborhood of crack houses and gun-toting drug dealers in the middle of the night. Instead, we drove our car to the stately brick Connecticut Humane Society in well-off Westport and walked him out of the building after writing a check and signing a few papers.

Anyway, I got the call from the vet while I was sleeping. I woke right up when I heard the word, “worms.” We picked up the medicine from the vet and treated him. He should be cured by now but I’m not. Parasites freak me out. Despite many articles claiming that it is extremely rare for humans to catch whipworms from dogs, they didn’t say it was impossible. I am now certain that he transmitted them to me. I don’t have any symptoms, but that means nothing since they’re often asymptomatic.

Then, tonight, I read an article, that originated in The Washington Post, that said a guy in Fresno arrived at his doctor’s office with a five-foot tapeworm, wrapped around a toilet paper holder, inside a plastic container. He said it came out of him and that he probably inherited it from the raw salmon he ate daily. Is everyone walking around with worms inside them?

Well, everyone is not my concern. I need to think about my next step. Do I take Duke’s medicine that is supposed to be administered to him again in three weeks? I can always say I misplaced it.

I certainly can’t go to my doctor and ask him to check me for worms. And I definitely can’t schedule my long-overdue colonoscopy. Imagine the doctor’s shock if he saw worms. His job is bad enough.






Cozy Boots

via Daily Prompt: Cozy

The other day, I bought myself new boots to keep on the front porch. My old fake Uggs that I kept on the front porch were worn beyond wearing. Every time I went out in the snow or the rain, my feet got to experience the wet ground as much as if I were barefoot.

The boots I keep on the front porch are the boots I put on in a rush. I don’t usually wear shoes in the house, but not because I have a policy about not wearing shoes in the house, or anything. I just don’t feel like exerting the effort to put shoes on when I’m inside. So, when I have to go somewhere in the winter or fall, I head out to the porch, jump into my boots, and leave through the front door. (I also leave flip-flops out there for warm weather.)

It is important that my porch boots don’t have to be tied, buckled, or fastened. They must be pull-ons, or jump-ins.

My new boots are fake suede ankle boots, and they’re lined in faux fur. They are so warm and comfortable that, when I’m wearing them, I actually stop and think, “These boots make my feet feel wonderful.” I’ve never done that before. Usually, I put my shoes on and forget about them. If I do think about them, then they’re probably hurting my feet.

It’s a good thing that I don’t have a no-shoes policy in my house because I no longer leave my boots on the front porch when I come in. I wear them all day and put them back on the porch right before I go to bed.

They’re that cozy.

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Confession Might Be Good for the Soul But Not Always for the Listener

via Daily Prompt: Confess

I recently read an article, Skincare for Boobs, and it mentioned ingrown hairs on nipples. So far, I haven’t had this happen, but I must confess that I’m no stranger to having an ingrown hair in an embarrassing place.

Many years ago, I developed an ingrown hair from shaving my bikini line. The offending hair was between the top of my right leg and my groin area. The skin around it swelled to the size of a large orange. It was so big that it impeded my ability to walk.

Naturally, I told all of my friends and work colleagues about my testicle-shaped growth. And, just as naturally, everyone had a solution. Most of the solutions were the same because most people aren’t very original and, in fairness, nobody had ever experienced this phenomenon. The two solutions were to press on it and make it pop, or put hot compresses on it to make it pop.

I tried both options and nothing worked. The next day, I was in TJ Maxx, in a sun dress, and I felt liquid gushing down my leg. I must have exclaimed, because everyone around me started staring at my leg and recoiling. For all the world, it looked like I wet myself.

I dumped my not-yet-paid-for purchases and beat it out of there. By the time I got home, the giant lump was gone and my dress was soaked.

Thank God this happened before iPhones were invented.

You’re As Old As You Are


It’s said that old age is not for the faint of heart. It’s not easy getting old and, especially, being old.

My mother tells me that she hates being old every time I talk to her. She said she envies those who didn’t have to endure old age.

I know other old people, however, and they’re happy and grateful for every day, even though they have health problems and their friends and relatives are dying.

I remember being 21 and having a boyfriend who was 29. When I asked him his age, he said, “I’m as old as time.” Next year, I’ll be double the age he was when he said that. I wonder how he’d categorize being 58. He’d probably say that I was “old as dirt.”

I work in an office where everyone is in their 20s or early 30s. The CEO is the only person who has hit the 40 mark. To everyone there, I am a relic … but a well-shod relic. I do like shoes.

It’s also said that age is just a number and you’re as young as you feel. Age may just be a number, but let’s not fool ourselves. You’re as old as you are. How you act at that age is up to you.

I heard a funny line the other day, “How can I act my age? I’ve never been this age before.”


Don’t Fart in a Puffer Coat

As a public service announcement to all of you out there who are about to start shopping for winter coats, you should know that puffer coats grab onto smells, absorb them, and hold on like a baby to a pacifier.

I went to a Korean-barbecue restaurant the other night and came out smelling like I had never left. My coat drank in the pungent scents and retained them like water. It’s two days later and that coat still reeks.

Which brings me to some other aromas that will stick to your coat like glitter to anything: body odor, bodily gases, perfume, and cooking smells. Basically anything that your nose can sense will move into your coat and start unpacking immediately.

My husband has asked me not to wear my puffer coat until it’s stink-free. He came at me today with a bottle of Febreze but I wouldn’t let him spray my coat for fear of staining it. So, for now, it’s hanging outside in the yard. I hope there’s nothing smelly out there. Wearing a skunk coat would really stink.

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Photo from

People With Dementia Shouldn’t Tell Lies

OmaUndOpa-ganzI know an elderly couple who both appear to have the beginnings of dementia, or at least short-term memory loss. Visiting them is interesting, because every time I go to their house, the conversation is the same as last time, but it’s new to them. When they tell me, for the 17th time, that their son and his family are planning to visit them, they’re just as excited as when they told me the first time, because, to them, they just heard the news.

Their short-term memory loss goes in and out, though. Sometimes one or the other will remember something that happened recently, but then he or she will immediately forget the memory.

The other day, the wife called me. “Did you send us something?” she asked. “A box arrived here today.” I had sent them a down comforter for Christmas, but I had only ordered it online the day before, so I did not expect it to arrive in one day. It’s interesting how, when you need something to arrive during Amazon’s two-day delivery window, it doesn’t, but when you’re not in a rush, the thing almost materializes at its destination.

Anyway, I told her that she should open the box on Christmas. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t open it until then.” Then we talked about other things and, as I was about to hang up, she said, “We got the prettiest down comforter today and it looks so nice on our bed. I wonder who sent it.”

“I told you that the present was from me,” I said. “And you said you hadn’t opened it.”

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t open it. We’re saving it for Christmas.”

“Great!” I said.

I mean, really, what else could I have said?





Yankee Manager Candidate Rundown

Yankee Manager Candidate Rundown

Reblogged from New York Sports Roundup. Please share if you want to continue the conversation!

New York Sports Roundup

There is a ton of buzz surrounding the Yankees prospective new manager, and there have been some of the current coaches, as well as some fan favorite Yankees rumored to be the next manager. While Joe Girardi did a great job managing the team, especially this past season, the Yankees have moved on from him and are now focused on the future. Here are some of the candidates and my take on each one.

John Flaherty-  It was announced this past week that Flaherty expressed interest in being the Yankee manager. Flaherty was the Yankee backup catcher from 2003-2005, and can be remembered for his pinch hit walkoff single in 2004 in a game against the Boston Red Sox that went 13 innings. Flaherty has been no stranger to the Yankees organization after he retired, as he has been a broadcaster for the YES Network since 2006. Flaherty would make…

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Fashion Advice to Younger Women from an Older Woman

If you’ve gotten past that headline and are willing to hear advice from someone who might be significantly older than you are, then you are probably … alone.

When I was young, I would always roll my eyes far back into my head when an older person would give advice or reminisce about the old (better) days. Now I know how dumb I was to not have listened. Why make mistakes that have already been made before? Today, I always listen to advice from someone who has been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt and the rear-window cling. I prefer to avoid as many of life’s pitfalls as possible, so I’ll have plenty of time to make new, never-done-before (to my knowledge), outrageous, creative, fresh mistakes.

So, here’s my advice to take or ignore:

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Mel B 08/12/2015

Bodycon (tight, clingy) clothes should never be worn by anyone who isn’t stick-thin, or who doesn’t have a flat stomach and controlled curves. Otherwise, every roll, cellulite dimple, droopy bottom, and belly bulge will be visible. Always look in a multiple-sided mirror before going out in this type of clothing. Celebrities work hard on their bodies before slipping into bodycon clothes. If you don’t, then don’t.

Speaking of bellies: I know it’s all the rage for women to have abs, but a long, flat, sleek stomach is sexy and looks sleek in tight clothes, whereas defined abs can make a woman in a tight dress look pregnant. One more tip from the old days: Hold in your stomach!

Zippers belong inside clothes, not outside of them. Screen Shot 2017-11-06 at 4.35.20 PM.pngI don’t know why this ever became a thing. Some designer probably made a mistake when sewing in a zipper and said, “Hey, let’s give this a try.” And women went along with it, because it was “fashion.” No, it isn’t. It’s stupid and unattractive.

Wear full-coverage underwear that matches your skin tone when wearing white pants. It looks much more respectable than a thong. Thongs don’t hold anything in, remember. It’s all there to see in its droopy, dimply state. And thongs look tacky when you can see them through pants.

Straight-leg ankle pants, including skinny jeans, are not flattering. They’re fashionable now, and I admit to owning several pairs, due to buying some and accidentally shrinking long pants, so we’ll all be wearing them. But, they were hideous in the 1980s and they’re still hideous. Wide-leg shorter pants (called Capris not that long ago) should only be worn in the summer, if ever.

It’s okay to say no to wearing something that is having its fashion minute.Screen Shot 2017-11-06 at 4.12.10 PM Not everything will look good on you. I remember my mother telling me when I was a child that, in the 1950s, she refused to wear the sack dress because it was so ugly. Most women agreed, and abstained.

She also said that most women refused to wear midi skirts in the 1970s because they cut the leg off at an unattractive point. That was back when there were three lengths in fashion at the same time (which was groundbreaking in that era): mini, midi, and maxi. I think that rule doesn’t apply now, because back then, women mostly wore heels with dresses and skirts, and today boots look great with midis. Converse sneakers, though, not so much.

The last thing I can thing of is cleavage. Stop showing it in the daytime. Period. And if it’s wrinkled, don’t show it … EVER.







If You Could Do It All Over Again …

Back when I was a kid, whenever I came within hearing distance of two or more women talking together, I often heard one of them say something like, “If I knew then what I know now … ,” or “I’d love to be young again, but only if I could have the knowledge I have today.” Occasionally, I’d hear someone ask the other, “If you could do it all over again, would you do it the same way?”

Now, I am one of those women. Actually, I’m probably older than those women were then, by 10 or 20 years. That means that those women were questioning their choices, or were just plain unhappy with them, in their thirties or forties.

In the 1960s and 1970s, in my Irish-Catholic, middle-class neighborhood, women didn’t have as many choices as they do now. Money was tight, education beyond high school was rare, and kids were plentiful. The men made the money and the women stretched it for all it was worth. Women couldn’t get credit on their own. Their economic situation depended entirely on their husbands’ ability to earn.

Not long after, women went to college, got jobs, moved out of their families’ homes, and had mostly-worry-free sex, due to the introduction of birth-control pills. Women supported themselves, traveled, worked, and lived in their own homes with or without a man to whom they were or were not married. Life changed drastically and very quickly. Education and birth-control made this possible.

But, despite these changes, adults still had to make choices and decisions. Some of us got married, some of us had children. Some of us raised our children without working outside the home; some did both, with varying success. Others dedicated our lives to our careers, or that’s the way it turned out, anyway. That was because, even though women had far more options than our mothers did, we didn’t have them all. Sometimes our choices were limited, so we chose between what we were offered. Some people never met a man they wanted to marry. Some women were unable to have children. Some women got the jobs they wanted; others took the jobs they could get.

Even with all of the new opportunities that were offered to us, they weren’t all offered to every one of us. We, like previous generations, did the best with what we we chose from what we were offered.

My friends don’t seem to ask each other the questions that our mothers asked. Maybe that’s because if we don’t like our marriage, we leave it. Or, if we’re unhappy with our job, we look for another. We don’t feel pinned down to choices we made when we were young, or younger.

But, the prevalence of divorce, relocating, changing jobs and/or career paths, depression, homicide and suicide, indicates a great unease with our original decisions. I believe we’re all still asking ourselves if we would have done things differently if we knew how things were going to turn out.

What would you have done differently? Would you have married the same person, had the kids, chosen the career you first decided on? Or, knowing what you know now, and how things played out, would you have gone a totally different route?

A Fly in the Cafeteria

I saw a rumpled, paunchy, balding, middle-aged man in the company cafeteria. His fly’s zipper was down, and part of his shirttail was sticking out through the opening. He had probably just come from the restroom. At least I hoped he had just come from there and hadn’t been walking around in this state all morning.

Being a person who tends to grab the bull by the horns, so to speak, I sidled up to him in the line for the register and whispered, “Your zipper is down.”

He looked at me and then down at his fly. He promptly zipped himself up. Then he looked me up and down and said, rather snidely, “Thank you for noticing.”

You know, some people just don’t want to be helped.


via Daily Prompt: Zip