Scotch and soda...

Scotch and soda, mud in your eye.
Baby, do I feel high, oh, me, oh, my.
Do I feel high.

Dry martini, jigger of gin.
Oh, what a spell you've got me in, oh, my.
Do I feel high.
Dave Guard ...Kingston Trio.

Actually this post has nothing to do with scotch and soda or being high, but it does have to do with spirits. Besides, I liked that old Kingston Trio song.

Our little five pound poodle, Missy, was willed to us by my husband's aunt, "B," three and a half years ago. B was one of my deceased father in law's sisters and she lived in Denver, Colorado. She had been housebound for five years as a result of emphysema caused by a life long smoking habit. B's husband had died from lung cancer several years earlier. They had no children and Missy was B's only companion since her husband's death.

Missy was the last in a long line of toy poodles that B had, but she often said that Missy was her favorite. About four and a half years ago, we were in the Denver area and went to visit B who was on oxygen at the time. As we sat in her living room, Missy immediately jumped into my lap and I held her. During the course of our conversation, B said that she was very worried about what would happen to Missy when she died. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Don't worry B, we'll take Missy." My husband agreed. B was so happy that as soon as we left, she called her two surviving sisters and my mother in law to ensure that they all were aware that Missy was to be given to us when B died.

One year to the day after we made our promise to B, she died. Her youngest sister drove from Atlanta to Denver to dispose of B's belongings and to pick up Missy. Among the things she found was a letter from B with all of Missy's veterinary records, her papers, and instructions to have Missy groomed before she was to be given to me. B had written that letter only two weeks before she died.

Despite the fact that she was nearly eight years old at the time, Missy made the trip and transition from Colorado to our home in Florida without missing a beat. She is a very adaptable little dog. She loves everyone and is not at all shy around strangers. We also came to find out that Missy is a five pound control freak.

This summer, my husband's sister, her eight year old daughter, and my mother in law came to visit us for a couple of days. Our family loves our liquor, but I only drink beer and wine, and my husband usually stays with beer or wine too. So when they came to visit, my mother in law and sister in law brought their own "snakebite" medicine. Bourbon for my mother in law and vodka and tonic for my sister in law. Vodka and tonic is what both B and my father in law would drink.

As we sat down with our drinks, Missy went crazy jumping in my sister in law's lap and trying to get to her vodka and tonic. She did not do that to any one else. The next night, the same thing happened when we sat down to have a drink. Finally we decided that Missy KNEW the smell of vodka and tonic and probably also knew the taste of it too. I am willing to bet that B shared hers with Missy every evening when she had her vodka and tonic. And so the B's spirit lives in the spirits.

Back to the Salt Mines

And loving it!

Last week I started back to work again. This is my third go round at my old job.

For more than 30 years I worked long hours and felt very unappreciated. In fact, my last full week before I retired, I worked 50 hours which was not unusual. So when the city offered an early retirement, I jumped on it. My benefits took a huge hit, but finally I was able to relax and to sleep. The first three months that I was retired, I slept ten or more hours a night. I was simply exhausted.

Then after a while, I realized that I missed being a part of a team. Like an old war horse, I could not completely give up the battle.

About a year and a half after I first retired, my old office called me back to fill in for five weeks while a former supervisor of mine was out on medical leave. I was very nervous that first day, but suddenly realized how much I missed the place and all of its people.

I was fortunate that they had money to keep me on and they kept me for 15 months until the money ran out. I really did not want to leave even then.

Well recently I got a reprieve from retirement. My old office called me back again to fill in as a temporary part timer. Three days a week is great. I love it and they love me. I am a cheap hire because they only pay me by the hour for hours worked. No benefits, no leave. I love it because once again I feel productive and appreciated. That is all I could ask for.