Darlins'

     Down

          Dog Street

Today was a day I was looking forward to; my daughter who lives in Norfolk was coming to Colonial Williamsburg to have a day with just me. Today I didn't have to share her with anybody....we were going to browse through some stores in the restored area we hadn't been to in awhile. 


Apparently word was out that Colonial Williamsburg was decorated in it's Christmas finery-green garlands with red bows, wreaths hand-made and hung on the storefront doors, the Farmer's Market was taking place; probably the last until it begins again in spring. People were swarming our little town like flies! There were music makers singing old Christmas carols in front of the Trellis-an elegant place to dine for lunch or dinner. I looked around at the many dogs as they gravitated toward each other, hoping for a sniff to get acquainted. While waiting for Mandy, I thought I would take the opportunity to make a video of this festive area with all that was going on. I strolled along Duke of Gloucester Street, camcorder running on my phone, focusing inside the window of the Pewter Shop, The Precious Gem, The Toymaker Store....all of a sudden the focus of my attention was a young lady that appeared in a red Old Navy sweatshirt, telling me to never involve her in an activity where swarms of people flocked like starved animals to get a "taste" of this overly wealthy town, where people think it's okay to push and shove their way through your ribs and back, where their needs must be greater than your own...." Hello honey, I am filming what was a very lively, festive day in the restored area. Do you have anything else you would like to say before I discontinue filming?" Cheeks turning pink she smiled sheepishly, telling me she had to walk a mile from the parking garage to arrive here. 


We began our window shopping at Williams-Sonoma, admiring all of the very beautiful (and very expensive) pots, pans, Kitchen Aid mixers, soaps, dishes and the like. I admired a lovely enamel beige colored roaster, that when looking at the price tag, thought it must be a misprint priced at $390. Now that my little girl is all grown up, and has been working hectic, full-time, high stress jobs since graduating college, she is well aware of how much work would be required to buy any one object in such a "high end" store. I smile as we leave the store. Onward to another "high end" store across the street that sells women's clothes, shoes, jewelry...shaking her head as she eyes the ridiculous price tags attached to the clothing. Farther along down the street near the powder magazine, the horses were being attached to a carriage to clip-clop their way down Duke of Gloucester Street, passengers secured safely inside, looking at all the taverns, gardens and restored homes that date back to the 1700's. Hot apple cider is sold at the magazine in insulated paper cups to the tourists that are snapping photographs in rapid fire, sure to capture this lovely town left behind for centuries. Interpretures  in costume, tricorn hats dotting the landscape take you back to days where Thomas Jefferson and George Washington sat at the Raleigh Tavern, drinking their ale and talking politics. 


In and out of the Pewter shop, various galleries, and as my tired, aching, arthritic back and legs begged for a rest, we went to a local restaurant that we both like and rested while we had lunch. Sipping my iced cold Pepsi, I notice as we converse over our entrees how serious my daughter has become. She is a type-A personality....giving the word organized a new meaning. Efficient is very key in Mandy's world. Every minute, both at work as well as home, is tasked out. Not much time for relaxation. She is a dedicated wife, helping her husband who has decided to attend college full-time, work part-time, with the new life he is getting to know as "the grind." She was an excellent student in high school, as well as college. Again, the importance of managing her time while making excellent grades....and working too many hours, prepped her for the busy life she leads now. Throw into this mix, two adorable dogs (a Great Dane and a Boxer) that are their "children" for now. Said dogs are "sensitive." When they shred pillows when mom and dad are at work, there will be no fussing at them, because they become nervous and urinate all over everything. No losing tempers, because they are "sensitive" to that as well. Actually, no internalized anger is even tolerated by the pooches....as that too causes "accidents." Now if you cannot conceal the fact that you are about to spit fire, after attending classes all morning, working all afternoon, only to enter the house and notice that two rooms are covered in foam rubber from top to bottom....the pups become frozen in their steps "feeling" the fury that dad is trying his very best to suppress, as streams of yellow urine paint the carpet, the walls, their crates....and alas, their bodies as they wallow in it! Now, in addition to dinner, to laundry, to studying and writing papers, both dogs must be bathed because not only is the yellow stain all over their fur unattractive, it is rather unpleasant to have to smell. So as dad heads for the closet to retrieve the "Nature's Miracle" to remove the urine stain/odor from the carpet, "mom" is leading very gently so as not to add anymore stress to the canines, two buttercup yellow dogs to the bathtub. Lovely smelling shampoo and then conditioner are applied to their coats and if they haven't already used all of the towels cleaning up the mess and drying down the dogs from another evening's "mishap" they are patted dry and shining beautifully once again. My dog smells like a dog. Mandy's dogs do not. They smell like Paul Mitchell hair products. Upon coming to visit the house several night's ago, Mandy asked her husband if my dog smelled odd. "NO" he answered. She just smells like a dog. Mandy looked perplexed. "Hum" she replied. I told her that our dog gets bathed once a month. I have arthritis and cannot do Gumby poses straddling the bathtub, nor can I squat as I have two knees that stopped working properly ten years ago. When my dog gets bathed she smells lovely for a time, but the fragrance runs out before the next $25.00 is scheduled for payment for said bath rolls around again!  I smile as she tells me all about these doggies and the many stories that come with them. Mental note to myself....they are being prepared well by a Dane and a Boxer for parenthood!


After lunch on this beautiful day, we make a walk through one more extremely expensive store. Dark cherry-wood highboys, pewter, glasses and dishes with various insignia's indicating that the product is representing Colonial Williamsburg, we watch in wonder as so many of the tourists await their turn in line, flashing their Visa's, Master Cards, Discover and Am Ex cards through the machines like the cash that is coming out of the other end of the card, isn't really real. Colonial Williamsburg is quaint, charming, historical, gorgeous beyond belief......and very EXPENSIVE. 


We have seen the lovely world of the restored area and it's accompanying shops. Now it's time to "get real." "Would you like to browse around some of my favorite consignment shops before you head back across the bridge to Norfolk?" I ask.  Onto the more realistic places that are fun to shop around in. I love consignment shops. I love buying something that has a story. In fact, most things I've gotten for our house the past several years are from consignment shops. I took Mandy to my favorite shop first. She laughed, seeing the lady that owns the shop recognize me when we entered. I come here several times a month to see all of the new things that people have given up in their homes. I am amazed. Things that appear brand new to me. Upscale stores, not-so-cheap prices....I wonder how they could give up something that seems so new and lovely to my eyes? I am thankful that they do. Many times I am the beneficiary of their fleeting fondness to the lovely lamps, clocks, antiques that no longer hold their interest. The last consignment shop we browse through is located several doors down from my favorite Starbucks. Again my back, feet, knees and hip are screaming "ENOUGH!" I treat Mandy to a cup of hot green tea w/ honey to nurse a sore throat that is becoming more uncomfortable the closer it comes to the sun going down in the sky. 


We claim two of the lovely, well stuffed leather chairs sinking down and enjoying the pure bliss of their comfort. I can see the discomfort in Mandy's eyes. She never complains but I know. It's time to end our day. I still have an errand to run. She has a 45 minute drive over the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel sending her back home to Norfolk. I complain as she helps me up about the arthritis. She urges me to find another doctor. Granted, mine is a whack-job. He should've retired a decade ago. His age has long caught up with him. I tell her that I can, but that the arthritis is a trial I just have to live with....at this time, there is no cure. She tells me I still have another 25 years to live, at least! She can't bear the thought of the inevitable....whenever God deems it is my turn to go. She is so sweet. We talk about knee replacements. I tell her that as long as I can still walk, I choose not to have them replaced because I have no one to care for me during the period I can't "do" for myself. "I'll care for you!" she urges. I gently remind her she has a very full plate....she has her own life, more than enough responsibility, work than she can handle now. "I'll take off!" she replies. "Sweetie, you can't take off that long." "How long?" she asks. "I don't know-probably several weeks" I answer. "We can just plan to schedule it if I get pregnant and have it done while I'm out on maternity leave!" she cries. With this precious and completely naive response, I try my hardest not to let the tears flood my face. I tell her she has no idea how huge the transition is of becoming a mother for the first time. You instantly become a brand new person, with the first cry of your new baby. Hormones that are out of whack in the upcoming weeks. Exhaustion from  getting by with little to no sleep. Realizing how helpless you feel, because there is no manual telling you how to raise this perfect creation you've given life to, realizing that YOU are responsible for its nurturing, its knowledge, its guidance, its love, its clean clothes, its bathing and feeding and the million other things, both small and large that come along with being a mother.  In addition to this enormous responsibility, this sweet, giving, precious daughter of mine wants to nurse a mother who cannot walk for a time, back to health. I love her so much. She has no idea the depth of my love. She can't because isn't a mother yet. She will understand one day. And I see the despair in her eyes because she wants the arthritis to be "better."  She is such a choice soul. I thank God he has given her to me every day that i live. I tell Him that out of all the spirits waiting to come to earth to experience life, He picked the perfect, the most perfect of the spirits to give to me, as my daughter. We are one and the same, yet different. She knows me....really knows me. And I know her. I wonder if she realizes how proud I am of the woman she's become? How much I realize she gives her best to whomever she is with? How lucky her employer is to have such a perfectionist in their company? How hard she tries every day to do her job in the most excellent, efficient, moral way? I know her husband knows.....I think he is still rather amazed by her. So am I. I am amazed that God chose someone so ordinary as me, 
 to gift my life with. My cherished baby girl, as I look into your  eyes all the way into your soul, I "see" you. It is my feeling deep down into my soul, that you and I have been bonded through our hearts for eons of time. The moment I held you after giving birth to you, there was a comfortable familiarity the instant we touched. It wasn't necessary for me to get to know you....I felt like I already did. There is an invisible cord that is connected to me while still being connected to you. That cord will remain in place when I return to paradise, and you remain here. Not to fret....the only thing that will "separate" us for a short while, will be time. I will always be with you. I want you to know that. I will still be me-have I ever left you hanging? Nor will I then.


Thank you for a wonderful day today. I hope the green tea with honey and lemon will soothe the pain. I hope you enjoyed our time together as much as I did. I'll talk to you soon. From the person who loved your first. The person that loves you most. I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you forever~