Dr. Doolittle’s Training Ground

We do not own any pets.  Both my son J and my husband B are allergic to cats.  Although we would like a dog, we’re not ready for furry paws or to say goodbye to our slightly scuffed hardwood floors.  We refuse to harbor mice/rats, spiders or smelly reptiles like B’s least favorite, snakes.   Fish seem disposable, and a tank would consume too much space.  Our family finds zoos mildly entertaining, but we really don’t need to visit them when our own backyard promises more than its share of the fine, furry, feathered friend persuasion.

From our front yard, you’d never guess what inhabits the back.  Our modest size home in a modest neighborhood sits on a surprising acre of land in the shape of an orange slice.  Past our large backyard, woods border the property with a shallow stream trickling.  When humidity and hot air hits, it smells just like the South Jersey swamp it once was. [Read more...]

Memorial Day: M is for Mom

I remember last Memorial Day vividly. It had only been two months since my mother was diagnosed suddenly with stage four bile duct cancer. The family was still trying to adjust to this news and the ever changing, dire medical ups and downs. We barely had our head wrapped around the treatment plan, let alone making plans for Memorial Day.

I remember that long weekend, we somehow all wound up in our backyard, sitting like we do every year at our ancient picnic table. It tilts to one side, so when people sit down or get up, they have to do it verrrrrryyyyy slowly, or the table will tilt and the pasta salad and drinks, etc., will start crashing down. Every summer we say we need to get rid of it, but no one does.

So there we were – my husband was grilling hot dogs, my brothers were there eating everything in sight. My then 5 year old wanted to know what was for dessert and could we set up her little teepee play house. My mom was eating some beans with her hot dogs. And then she threw up. Right in the middle of the meal, right at the table, right as the sun was streaming through the leaves of the beech tree she had planted years ago in our backyard. And there was nothing anyone could do about it. [Read more...]