My sweet Aunt Cynth died May 10 at the age of 94. She and my mom are first cousins, but were always more like sisters. They were born the same year, grew up in nearby towns outside of Chicago, went to college together at Marymount and of course shared all of their summers together in South Haven.

There are so many things I love about Aunt Cynth. Two attributes that always amazed me is her incredible thoughtfulness and kindness, and particularly how she extended it to me. Even with her own seven children, twenty grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren, she always had room in her heart to remember me with birthday cards, valentines, Christmas gifts and our very regular phone calls. And our time together in South Haven has always been magical.

As Marion so aptly pointed out, Aunt Cynth took such interest in everyone else’s lives, and that was always true with me. She loved that I wrote a book on socially responsible business, was a commentator on NPR’s marketplace, and had a career in interviewing people and sharing their stories. Probably the smartest thing I’ve done in my life is to interview my Mom and all her cousins. With that, Tom and I put together a book that share the history and stories of our South Haven homes and life for the first half of the twentieth century. I interviewed Aunt Cynth and Mom together and their back-and-forth between them was just fabulous. I have that interview and all the others on tape and plan to get them digitalized to share with everyone. But here, I wanted to share just a few stories about Aunt Cynth.

It was the early nineties and the book I wrote with my friend, Howard Rothman, Companies With a Conscience, had just been published. I was living in the Bay Area at the time. Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick happened to be out visiting Aunt Judy in Palo Alto. My friend Thaxter Sharp invited me to present the book (with slides) to the Bay Area Dartmouth club. We were meeting in a conference room at a very fancy downtown San Francisco law firm and I invited Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick to the presentation. I remember it was a rainy day and without lights, it was very dark in the room. I was well into my presentation when Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick quietly made their way in and sat at the back of the room. I was nervous speaking in front of an Ivy League crowd. When they entered I thought it was so different to see them in such a foreign “fancy” setting, versus on our porch and beach life in Michigan. I continued on with the talk and then all of a sudden there was a burst of light. I look up and Aunt Cynth had just taken a picture with her instamatic camera. With that I looked over and introduced them to the rest of the group. “This is my Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick, visiting from Saint Louis.” With that Aunt Cynth cried out, “I had to take a picture, Mary Dear, you look so pretty!” With that there was a roar of laughter in the room, the perfect ice breaker, because I imagine everyone was thinking about their own Aunt doing the same exact thing if they were giving a presentation. I just told my cousin Kathy that I have never seen that picture but it’s probably me with an open mouth and wide eyes looking very startled. She said she will be on the lookout for it!

After I graduated from college in 1980 I began annual October visits to see my Aunt Mary Louise. She was my father’s only sibling, our beloved aunt, who was a nun with the Sisters of the Sacred Heart and lived in Saint Louis, where she and my Dad were raised. The bonus was that I was able to stay with Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick and have some special times with them. I remember all their homes, but I particularly loved their last home on Washington Avenue. Long after we lost Aunt Mary Louise I continued my fall visits, most recently, with just Aunt Cynth since we lost Uncle Dick. The kitchen is old-school and filled with photos and notes in Aunt Cynth’s unique handwriting. We loved to sit out on the porch and take walks in the neighborhood. We shared a passion for quilts and a couple of times went to quilt exhibits. I loved the guest room, right next to her master bedroom. The full size bed always had the softest sheets and the most fluffy down comforter that offered the perfect amount of warmth, no matter the temperature. On one of my more recent visits Aunt Cynth could always sense when my trigeminal was getting the best of me and insisted I go take a nap. I remember thinking, “Here is my 90 something year-old aunt, with full-on macular degeneration, telling her fifty-something niece to take a nap.” But she did, and I always had the best sleeps there. In the morning, we would have our coffee together in the living room or porch wearing our nighties and robes. On Sunday my cousin Tim would pick us up and take us to the small Catholic Church at Wash U. It was a fabulous service with liberal priests giving thoughtful sermons to the very tight-knit congregation. I loved and cherish those visits.

There were a few special people who brought out the absolute best in my Mom. They included her Bronxville friend Mrs. Troja and her cousins, particularly Aunt Judy and Aunt Cynth. When with these few she would laugh more and allow her softest side to emerge. In South Haven, Aunt Cynth would walk across the lawn in the mornings to our house for a visit with Mom. There was nothing greater than hearing them chat and laugh and chat and laugh, just as they had for all their decades of being such close cousins, and even closer friends.

Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick were high school sweethearts and got married just as soon as they were out of college here in South Haven. Aunt Cynth, who proved to be so practical throughout her entire life, did something that was very unique for the time. She had her bridesmaids, including my Mom, wear dresses that they had worn as bridesmaids at other weddings. So she had a wonderful collection of bridesmaids’ dresses to accompany her beautiful wedding dress. I just always thought that was so cool. I will get a pic to post here.

I am sitting on the 317 porch with Aunt Cynth. It was her last visit to South Haven and the last time I would see her in person. There is a unique stretch that she is here with just three sons, Timmy, Ricky and Gary. There is a lot of opportunity for me to spend time with Aunt Cynth as the boys are out playing tennis or working on projects at 317 or at Lucky Stone. We sit on the porch with the lake to our backs and there is a gentle breeze. Aunt Cynth takes my hand. With her other hand she strokes it oh-so gently. We marvel at how many birds are singing around us. We talk, and then we are quiet. We are very comfortable with our silence. Everything slips away except for the warm breeze and soft, loving strokes on the top of my hand.

It’s early in the morning and I have a morning flight out of Grand Rapids. I have Sid, my then-regular driver, in the driveway waiting to gather me and my bags to take me to the airport. Mom gets up, of course, and makes me a sandwich to enjoy on the trip. It’s not even fully light out and there is a soft morning fog and mist in the air. I look over the big lawn and there are Aunt Cynth and Uncle Dick, in their robes, making their way over to say good-bye. This happened countless times, with Aunt Cynth continuing to do so after we lost Uncle Dick. No matter what the hour, she was always there for a good-bye hug and kiss.

Aunt Cynth’s signature send-off, whether in person or on the phone, has always been “Bye Bye for Now.” I just loved it. In fact, I adopted a shorter version, “Bye for now” for myself. At first it was conscious, but then it became unconscious. I don’t even think about it, it’s just what comes out of my mouth when saying good-bye, and I hope  a homage to my aunt. Last New Years, Aunt Cynth called me with my cousin Carrie. I wasn’t at my phone so they left a message which I still have saved. Aunt Cynth says, “Hi Mary, it’s Aunt Cynth and Carrie. We are thinking so much about you and wondering how you are. I am so looking forward to seeing you in South Haven this summer. Bye bye for now.” Bye for now, Aunt Cynth. I love you.

We lost our dear Aunt Cynth on May 10. She died with most of her seven children with her in St. Louis with many of her grandchildren and great-children joining for a flower and candle petal ceremony afterward. I was here in South Haven with my sister Anne, and Cynth’s grand-daughter Marion and her husband Rick. In fact we were eating Sherman’s ice cream and watching a golden sunset just as Aunt Cynth passed. She would have thought that was perfect. I’ll follow with my own thoughts on Aunt Cynth but Marion and I sat outside on the lawn between 303 and 317 and she shared some of her’s. As she notes, Marion is leading a fascinating life. She had her son, Nick at 17. She has been sommelier in Napa and has run a cannabis farm in the Sierra foothills. Marion on her dear Grammy Cynth:

There are so many things that made her special to me and that I loved about her. She had this intense wisdom of so many subjects. It was fascinating because in a certain way she led a sheltered life and had an innocent way about her. She hadn’t seen life as I have and was fascinated in such a real way about everything I was doing. For instance she wanted to know all about my wine life. I would read her my wine write-ups for restaurants. She wanted to know how the high end restaurants I worked at operated from the inside out. When we had the farm she wanted to know all about our day-to-day lives and all that went into growing cannabis.

Grammy Cynth was so fascinated by lives different than her own. She wants everything well described. By listening she made people feel like they matter and that the things they do matter. Even in her final weeks when we were here in South Haven she wanted to hear what we were doing, and asked us to describe the colors, smells and sounds of spring here on Lake Michigan.

I remember I was very nervous to tell her when I was 17 years old and pregnant. I kept putting it off. But in the end she was so amazingly gracious and truly happy for me. She was the only person who didn’t act as if my life was over. I mean, I wasn’t sad. I wanted the child and I wanted to be a mother. Grammy told me to not listen to the negativity and that bringing a new life into the world was a good thing. Years later when I told her I was getting a divorce, she was so comforting. She said life is a roller coaster and not a merry-go-round. There are ups and downs.

She made my life better by accepting that it is my life. The hard times don’t mean you are not a good person. She advocated for me as she did all of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She understood that life is not always easy.

I loved Grammy’s sense of humor. She was always so damn funny. She helped raise us as our parents were going through the divorce. We spent a lot of time with them in Naples. Sometimes James, Emily would get in trouble for something, then we’d be crying and pretty soon we’d be laughing. There was always a funny ending.

Grammy taught me that love is boundless and it’s always possible to love more. She taught me to fall in love and keep falling in love with the world around us….books, music, short stories, poetry. There is no cap and there is always more. It was amazing how she always knew where every one of her grandchildren were located at any given time and what they were doing.

One of my favorite memories with her was when we spent a few week in Naples with Grammy and Grampy when Nick was 4. The days were filled with tennis, walks to the pier, playing with Nick. I remember the Oscars were on and Grammy wanted to know about every movie and every actor and she was so amazed I knew about them all. It was fun showing Nick the coconut tree I loved to climb as a kid there.

There was a period when I would take Grammy to lunch every Wednesday in St. Louis. It was unofficial R&D for Nick’s pub so we went all out going to the nicest places. We loved those luncheons. More recently I would try to replicate them by trying to find the best Chinese food, dumplings, cupcakes etc. from throughout St. Louis and bringing them to her house for lunch. And then at home we would listen to NPR or a book on tape. I also loved cooking for her…Asian food like Pad Thai and soups like French Onion. In losing Grammy I feel like I’ve lost my best friend. I just feel grateful to have had her be such a big part of my life for all these years. I am very lucky.

I had not talked to Scott in the almost-two years since we spent a month together at Parker Valley Hope rehab. However I have thought about him almost every day. While there, I learned that he was a handyman. But it also came out that he was a fine-arts major at college. It being my “job” while at rehab was organizing the arts and crafts area housed in the laundry room, a lot of patients started grabbing the beautiful landscaping river rocks and painting them. “Scott, do you want to paint a picture of Fiona on a rock?” I asked him? He kindly obliged. So the rock and the sketch he did on scrap paper beforehand are now favorite items in my house.

I called Scott to come over to do a bunch of projects. But I didn’t know until he was here whether or not he was still sober. So many people in our group have not been successful. But thankfully, Scott has been. And he kindly agreed to letting me share his story.

Scott had been a casual drinker. But in his late thirties, that changed, and he started drinking increased quantities more regularly. “It just escalated,” he says. It didn’t help that he hung out with people who also drank all the time.

Scott is a handyman-extraordinairre, in that he does electrical, plumbing, carpentry…you name it. “I consider myself a home problem solver. If a homeowner is having an issue, I come in and fix it.” As such, he’s his own boss. His day starts early, and ends early. That’s when he would end up in the bars with other tradesmen, his “friends,” and drink. And then there were the years that his wife, Heidi, went to school to become a dental hygienist. “She was either in classes or studying, so I had a lot of alone time,” says Scott. So there was even more alone time to drink. Scott estimates that he was drinking the equivalent of a quart of vodka every day.

He hid the extent of his drinking from Heidi because he knew it was so out of control.  This went on for about a few years, he says, before trouble set in. First there was the DUI.

He was at the bar at closing, 2AM. This was pre-Uber, and no taxis were available. He figured he knew the route home well so he would drive. Alas, the police stopped him, saying that he was swerving. “I didn’t think I was, of course,” says Scott. While the legal limit is .08, Scott blew a 2.0, so hard that even though it was a first offense he  received a harsh sentence: for a year he would attend weekly classes and would have to use an interlock, the device you blow into to start your car. During this time he stopped drinking  but once the interlock was removed, Scott started drinking again. “I wasn’t rehabilitated so it didn’t stick,” he says. “It wasn’t my choice to quit. I thought the whole DUI was unfair and not my fault,” he says.

Then, he says, he became a smarter drinker. He stuck to a neighborhood, walking-distance bar, drank at home and he started using a breathalyzer.  By then he had developed such a high physical tolerance that he would wake up still “drunk” from the night before. “I had to wait to go to work in the morning,” he says.

He tried to stop but the alcohol withdrawals would be so horrible. “I would get the shakes and a lot of anxiety, so I’d pick it right back up,” he says. One time he quit cold turkey he remembers his skin turning red and having the shakes. Then, at one point, he started seeing stars. “The next thing I knew I woke up in the hospital,” he says. Scott suffered from alcohol withdrawal seizures. Thankfully his wife, who suddenly became aware of the extent of his issues, was home at the time and called 911. After 2 days of detox at the hospital he came home and he went three weeks without drinking. “It scared me, but obviously not enough,” he says. “I reasoned I could drink moderately.” But instead his it got exponentially worse and he was drinking more than he ever was.

By then he was pretty desperate for help. “It took me a long time to figure out that I needed a more long-term solution. After all, I had a DUI, withdrawal seizures and a hospitalization. I was a slow learner,” he says. His fear of having another seizure is finally what led him to check himself in for detox and rehab, both a Parker Valley Hope, in Parker, Colorado. 

Scott doesn’t remember his first days there in detox well. “I was in detox 3-4 days. I was just really uncomfortable, laying in that back dorm room with the other patients. They give you Librium and Lorazapam because your nerves are so fried, and that’s what got me through it,” he says.

Afterward, he spent the full 28 days at rehab. “The time there with counseling made me understand, in hindsight, my whole lifetime of addictive behavior, even going back to my teenage years,” he says. “I had never recognized it before.”

While some of the classes were helpful, what he found most beneficial was connecting with other patients. “There were so many different people, and you felt a sense of strength with numbers” he says. “Before I always thought I’m not one of ‘those’ people [who go to rehab] and then I recognized there are not ‘those’ people. They’re just people who are addicted, like me.” Scott says it was important for him to be there the full month. “My habit didn’t evolve overnight so I couldn’t expect it to miraculously disappear in the matter of days. I’m glad I stayed the course.”

After leaving Parker Valley Hope, Scott participated in a follow-up Intensive Outpatient program (IOP) three times a week for 8 weeks.

Scott faced challenges post-programs. Sleeping wasn’t great, and still isn’t, he says. And everywhere he turned there were triggers: bars, liquor stores, watching TV shows or movies. And though his wife and Dad did a sweep of his house to rid it of alcohol, he was still finding his well-hidden stashes all over.

“There were a lot of ‘white knuckle’ moments,” he says. Plus, while the physical aspects of alcohol dependence were gone after 28 days, Scott says it was tough to deal with the mental shame. “I have constantly questioned why and how this happened.”

Scott found idle time was hard, so he immersed himself into his own home remodel. And while he tried AA meetings, he found they just didn’t work for him. Instead he checked in with fellow patients from PVH and started listening to daily podcasts by comedian Marc Moran and actor Russell Brand, both former addicts, something he continues to today. This has obviously worked for Scott, who is now almost 2-years sober.

Scott also credits his wife for his success. “Heidi stuck with me always,” he says. “She had the attitude that ‘this is your problem, I do not know what is going on in your head. So you deal with it.” Scott says his recovery has been easier since his wife doesn’t drink, so that there is not the temptation of alcohol around the house.

Scott says he respects the fragility of sobriety and considers it a daily challenge to stay clean. Since he is an addict, there’s no going back to being a ‘casual’ drinker.’  “I have so much regret about my drinking days that I know it’s a life I can’t return to,” he says. “Instead he’s happy to show his best self, and live his best life.

The sketch Scott drew pre-rock drawing…I love this too!

I hired Mike to do some painting in my new Michigan condo this past early January. He and his partner would be painting at my neighbor Marge’s house and Mike could come over and paint my bedroom and do some touch ups during the same week. Yet a couple of days before he was to start Mike texted that he had an appointment and had to postpone by a couple of days.

Mike is talkative.  On day one of painting I learned that he, his wife and two sons live in a manufactured home on 20 acres of land just outside of town. On it he has built trails for a small fleet of dirt bikes and ATVs and has a pond stocked with fish ready to be caught. He has built his painting business with honesty, superior service and excellent work and that has brought him success, he said. They are busy enough that Mike has employed Marshall, another painter, for several years. Mike and his wife take care of their 94-year-old next-door neighbor who has no family. He was by all appearances a good-natured and kind person

What I learned between day one and day two of painting, however, is why Mike had to push out our agreed-upon start day. He let Marge know that some of his friends weren’t talking to him. Why? Because he went to Washington to participate in Trump’s “Stop the Steal” rally.

My first thought was, oh…no…, I just spent an entire day…at times in close proximity… with a guy who was at the mother of all supers spreader events.  Did you notice how hardly anyone at that rally wore masks? I’m sure Mike was no different. (We both did wear masks at my condo, of course.)

Marge said Mike insisted he only attended the rally and did not enter the Capitol. Well that’s a relief. At least the FBI wouldn’t show up at the door.

When Mike returned for Day 2 of painting, I said, “You didn’t tell me why you really postponed our start date.”  He looked at me with sheepish eyes. “Some people might be upset,” he said. I told him I would have liked to know before he started painting. But the I then him what it was like. And, the flood gates opened. 

As Mike painted and I kept myself very socially distant he poured out his thoughts. Among what he shared:

• He drove the twenty hours round trip with three buddies.  He went to support the President and protest election fraud. How did he know?  There are 140 million registered voters and Trump got 74 million votes. So it was stolen.
• He was tired of hearing how divided the country is. Mike wanted to see for himself. He and his friends weren’t carrying because they were on federal grounds.
• Trump did not incite any violence at all. It was a peaceful rally filled with republican business owners like himself.
• Buses of antifa protesters were bussed in and mixed in with the patriots. He saw them getting off the busses.
• There were far more people at the rally than the media reported.
• Mike and his group walked to the Lincoln Memorial during Trump’s speech, saying he’d see the speech later on DVR. On the way back they went by the Capitol and could see the Capitol Guards opening up doors and letting people in. Antifa protestors were let in the back by a Senator going out.
• The break-in seem staged. The military stole the laptops. That’s why there wasn’t more security.
• The girl that was supposedly pepper sprayed had an onion in her hand. Mike saw it online. She wasn’t sprayed with mace.
• Some of the men that jumped the line were patriots that got carried away. They were angry, upset. They didn’t loot and nothing was trashed. And there wasn’t anything missing except for the laptops
• Pence received a gold coin at the Electoral College vote, a Masonic sign.
• 15-20 Chinese freighters are waiting in Canadian waters to unload cargo from the CCP once Biden becomes president,  all part of the globalist agenda conspiring to eventually rule the world.  They are secretly putting people in both sides of the aisle.
• Trump will declare Marshall Law come inauguration day and patriots will storm the capitol and take back the government. “It will be history in the making,”

I asked Mike what motivated him to become a self-described Patriot and such an avid Trump supporter.

He said he used to be a Democrat who voted for Obama. But ten years ago he moved to Michigan and became a Republican. More recently when his Trump right-leaning posts on Facebook were censored he moved to other sites that have more “free speech,” like Newsmax TV, OAN TV, MeWe, Parler and OAN News. Some of his posts on Parler garnered 7500 shares. He saw information on these sites that he wasn’t seeing elsewhere.

He became angered when Covid restrictions hit. He was forced to not work for three months while WalMart was open and filled with people because they had nowhere else to go.

Mike said that since he’s been following these web sites and become a patriot, he has never before been as passionate about anything like this, even his own company. But with passion comes fervency. “I have so much anxiety about it all that I can’t sleep at night,” he said.  He also said that his wife has suggested to him many times that perhaps he’s gone too far with his beliefs, and that his best friend, who voted for Biden, doesn’t want to hear these thoughts. I asked him how it’s going to be for him when Biden becomes president. “I guess we’ll see,” he responded.

For me, this was hugely revealing. It was the first time I’ve had a conversation with a self-described “patriot” who is so indoctrinated by Parler, News Max TV and other right wing web sites. In one sense Mike does fit some of the stereotype: he’s a middle-aged white male with a mistrust of mainstream politics and media. But on the other, it doesn’t make sense. If anything, Mike appears to live a charmed life, raising his sons on 20 acres in a Lakefront community with more “toys” they could ever want. He’s doesn’t seem at all angry, and Marge and I agreed we could never imagine Mike becoming violent at a rally. In fact, Mike said this was the first pro-Trump rally he attended.

Indeed, much of what he said to me was just repeated statements he read on the right wing websites that he takes for the truth. (The girl with the onion? Well, she was holding ice in her hand.)

The Capitol riots exposed the impact and proliferation of disinformation and conspiracy theories. And many commentators noted that “radicalization” is now in the mainstream of American politics. The list of those who were arrested or identified as participating in the Capitol attack include doctors, nurses, realtors even a  florist.  And it showed me that the “fringe” stereotype I’ve believed in is just not true. In fact, it’s not fringe at all, but closer to than I thought. In my case, it was the nice guy in my condo, painting my bedroom.

Here in Colorado we have two prevalent features contributing to our state’s unique character: Pot and Pups.

Of the former, Colorado was the first state to legalize recreational marijuana in January 2014. This made it legal for adults over 21 to buy, consume and grow pot. By 2018, more than 1,000 pot dispensaries blanketed the state, giving a new meaning to John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High.”  By comparison, this is three-times the number of Starbucks.

Of the latter, Denver and Colorado frequently rank high on the lists of the most dog friendly cities and states due to the number of dog parks, doggie boutiques and the affordability to own a dog here. According to a 2018 American Veterinary Medical Association, pet ownership is highest in rural states, such as Idaho (58% of homes have dogs), Montana (52%) and Colorado coming in at #8 at 47% for our rural-mountain-dog-crazy urban state. I swear, everyone in Denver seems to have a dog.

What does this all mean?

Dispensaries need storefronts and dog owners need groomers, doggie day care and other canine-related enterprises. And the owners of all these pot shops and pet-related shops have to come up with names for all these. And it seems like these pup/pot purveyors enjoy quips and quibbles for their businesses title. However, as a wordsmith and consumer of one (ok, maybe sometimes both, but for medicinal use only) of such enterprises, I have to say, it’s hard to tell one from the other.

 I mean, let’s say you’re driving down Colfax Avenue (5 blocks west of my home). You can have a tattoo parlor, pot dispensary, gun shop, doggie day care , organic dry cleaner and Starbucks all within spitting distance. You see a storefront signage saying Buddy Boy. Do you go in to buy a THC/CBD blend or do you bring in Fido for a shampoo? It’s a dilemma!

So here, I have a quiz for you…. I will name the establishment (just the main title), and you guess…. (Pot or Pup)? Answers given at the end!

1.Sniff Shack. 2.The Kind Room 3. The Healing House 4. Dream Team 5. Pig N’ Whistle 6. Pikes Peak Caregivers 7. Zen Den 8. Canis Major 9. The Health Center 10. Uncle Dan’s 11. Mile High 12. Fox 13. Bubble N’ Trouble 14. Bgood 15. Kevin N’ Friends 16. Doctor’s Orders 17. Serene 18. 149 Body Shop 19. Best Day Ever 20. Buddy Boy 21. Friendly Forever 22. Wolf Pac 23. Gentle Loving Care 24. The Treehouse 25. Dingo’s 26. NuLeaf Naturals

Answers

1.Pup 2. Pot 3. Pot 4. Pup 5. Pot 6. Pot 7. Pup 8. Pup 9. Pot 10. Pup 11. Pup and Pot! 12. Pot 13. Pup 14. Pot 15. Pup 16. Pot 17. Pup 18. Pup 19. Pot 20. Pot 21. Pup 22. Pot 23. Pup 24. Pot 25. Pup 26. BOTH Extra points if you picked Pup…NuLeaf naturals makes CBD oils, including ones for dogs, cats and other animals!

So How’d You Do???

1-15 You’ve thought about getting a dog, but then realized you have to clean up after them; You ‘experimented’ with marijuana while in college

15-20 You have a cat let’s say, and after finding out your Mother is using CBD oils on her bad knee, decided it’s okay to maybe get a medical marijuana license.

20—26 You are a dog lover who spends more on his/her grooming than on your own haircuts and styling and don’t have any qualms about going into a pot shop. Congratulations!!

Also, as someone who appreciates a good pun, here are a few favorite pot/pup puns!

Urban Sophisticat; Laughing Grass; Woof N’ Boots;  Redeye Releaf; Sticky Buds; Taj Mutt Hal; Sniff Shack; Pawsitively Clean; Garden of the Paws; Garden of the Budz; Grateful Dogg; Doggie Pause; Sherlock Hound and the now closed Vanity Fur. For fun, try googling Vanity Fur Denver and guess what you see!!!.

Every summer I invite a group of friends to my family’s summer home in South Haven, Michigan. We call this “Mary Week.” It’s been pretty much the same group every year and we keep things simple. Everyone does their own thing during the day, someone (or groups) take turn cooking, and then we eat dinners together.

Except for our special event. For that, we are all on board.

Two years ago, in the summer of 2018, we took a boat tour up the Black River on the Lindy Lou, a replica of a river launch popular in the early 1900s. And, of course, we had to dress appropriately. That meant putting on boat-wear (dresses for the gals and such) and boating hats. Lucky for us, 303 North Shore Drive has an ample supply of straw hats hidden in closets throughout the house. Plus, we found crepe paper to make flowers and streamers to decorate the hats. Nate, my friend Suzie’s son, bought a hat at the boat’s launch, the Michigan Maritime Museum, to complete his snappy look. That day we had the Lindy Lou to ourselves except for a couple from Ohio, who I’m sure were wishing they took the later afternoon tour. Paige, who supplied the photo here, wrote, “What a fun day that was!” Indeed Paige!

In 2019, we had a different sort of event, something I named a “JamJam (trademark-pending*).  The inspiration hit me while at the Blueberry Festival when I visited a jam vendor Sarah and her company “Jam On!” Her tagline is: “Working to make jam hip one jar at a time.” And if by hip she means delicious, Sarah is correct-o. Jam On! jams combine unique and surprising combinations. I tried just about all of them and went home with a big bag of them and a mouth smeared by reds, purples and deep oranges.

And so, I thought it would be fun to invite my guests (plus my aunts and some cousins) to a tea party to try out the jams. This also would provide the opportunity to use the beautiful tea sets from my Grandmother. They had been gathering dust for years and I had recently spent a morning chiseling out the grit. On seeing me do this seeing this, Stu, my brother said, “So, are you just going to put them on the shelf again to collect dust?” No, Stuart, I am using them in my  JamJam.

And since I’m a Scott, I decided to turn it into a competition!!!

Besides the JamOn! jams, Aunt Judy, who makes her own “Granny Jams” donated a couple as well, so we had six total.

Lucky for my guests, I spotted these fabulous Palm Trees hats at the Dollar Tree, so these became the official testing hats, and Ironic Michigan vacation ones to boot. You can tell in the photos how well received they were!

Everyone enjoyed tea from the aforementioned vintage tea sets and tested the jams –Identified as 1 through 6- with some bagels and cream cheese and wrote down the one, two or three flavors included in the jam. These included Strawberry, Raspberry Cocoa; Cherry Almond; Pineapple Mango; Caramel Apple; Boysenberry and, of course, Blueberry. Right off the bat, the Aunt Judy-Aunt Janie duo tried to trip up everyone else. “They led us astray talking about making jams with other ingredients, not the ones submitted to the competition,” said my friend Mary. “They led us astray. They hoodwinked us,” she said. 

The JamJamers diligently wrote down their guesses on a card. “Everyone took it very seriously, but especially Georgia. She was analyzing everything to the Nth degree,” said Mary. 

When it came time to reading out the ingredients and see how my guests fared, I learned that while there is a lot I about these women, I’m not so impressed with their flavor-identifying-skills. When there were three flavors, most could only pick one. Two flavors? Sometimes none at all! Aunt Janie was so far behind in the voting that she started insisting she chose the right flavor after it was identified. When we asked to see her card with her written entries, she all of a sudden claimed she “lost it.” (All us cousins know that Janie must have missed the nun vows section that says, “Do not cheat to win at games” As kids, she’d do anything to hijack a Hearts game.)

In the end, it was the dogged Georgia, who during the sampling said, “You know, I think I sense some chocolate in this one,” who was the grand prize winner, followed by our two “youngsters” Nate and Mary Pearl in second place. My aunts, even the one with her own friggin’ “Granny Jam” label, did not even place. I have to say, it was a huge disappointment for the Templeton home team.

But all-in-all, everyone declared JamJam a success, including Fiona, who couldn’t resist getting in on the action.

*Dear Trademark Office,

I would like to Trademark JamJam. This is a contest in which participants vy to identify the most flavors in jams.

Sincerely,

Mary Scott

I’ve had some readers ask about my friend with the coronavirus. If you scroll down, you’ll see we had a conversation with her on March 27 about 10 days after her symptoms appeared overnight on March 18^th.  So I checked back in yesterday with my dear friend, who also happens to be my sister-in-law, Katie O.

Katie had just gotten home from a walk when we chatted. I, on the other hand, had just gotten up from a nap.

Mary: So first of all, how are you?

Katie: It’s been 29 days. I’m still not completely well. I don’t have all of my stamina back. I can only do shorter walks, for instance, instead of my longer ones. And my taste and smell isn’t completely back…maybe about 90%.

Mary: Wow, this thing has dragged out a long time.

Katie: I have never been this sick before.

Mary: We talked before about the cough, the lack of appetite, the low-grade temperature. What other symptoms did you have?

Katie: Yea, some symptoms would dramatically escalate and then other ones would just persist. One thing I didn’t mention was the shooting pains in my chest. It was like a hot, fire-y wire. Those just took my breath away and made me want to collapse. Those lasted about four days and were what prompted me to go to the ER. 

Then, there were a lot of stomach issues. It would range from just having an unsettled stomach to nausea so bad that I had to lay in the dark all day.

Mary: Could you eat?

Katie:  I had no appetite at all. I forced myself to get food down to get nourished so my immune system would strengthen.  I had smoothies and lots of hot tea.

Mary: So how was your stamina?

Katie:  I was pretty weak and had no energy. It exhausted me to shower and get dressed, for instance. I did it, but it was really hard. And then there was this underlying anxiety that something would happen and the disease would take a turn for the worse.

Mary: I think we were all fearing that.

Katie: I was also so dehydrated. No matter how many liquids I got in me I never felt satiated.

Mary: What were you drinking.

Katie: Well, water of course. Hot tea with lemon. Some soups. My lips were so parched, no amount of chapstick helped.

Mary: How does it feel to have had the disease that is so deadly and just devastating the entire world?

Katie: Well, they need to get a vaccine, that’s for sure. I’ve read about the medication Remdesivir. Some patients have responded in that it’s shortened how long they’re sick. But it doesn’t prevent it.

But to have a disease so deadly? I feel unlucky and lucky. Dang, there’s some sense of strength that I am immune and can go out in public. I wouldn’t be afraid to go on an airplane if things open up. But why did I get it, and Bill (her husband, my brother) didn’t? I don’t know?

Mary: Speaking of Bill, on a scale of 1 to 10, how good of a care taker was he. Oh wait, let’s not go there.

Katie: (laughs). He has done the cooking.

Mary: Thank you for sharing Katie!!!

One of the taglines on the www.misterorganized.com introduction page reads, “Can’t Find Things? Is it easier to go to the store for items you can’t find at home?”

Um. Well, yes. Especially when Walgreen’s is FOUR blocks from my house. The reality of it smacked me in my face when my bathroom remodel forced me into an organization of all that goes into it.  In fact, when I pulled everything out from the old vanity I was shocked at the sheer volume of product. Chapstick (18). Daytime Cold medicine (6). Dental floss (12). Nighttime cold medicine (4). Combs (8).  Antibiotic ointments (5). Saline nasal sprays (4). For a single person, I had a LOT of STUFF. And not just in the bathroom, but in other spots throughout the house, like in plastic containers above the drier, tucked into my kitchen cabinets. Yea, you get it.

Over the past several years, Mr. Organized, aka, brother Tom, has performed his magic at my house. Just not in the bathroom. And I can tell you, the process is, well, gruelling, mostly because it makes you aware of just how much crap you have accumulated over the years. But what he did in my bedrooms and living areas, I replicated the process for my bathroom.

First, you get everything out. Yes, this is the harrowing part realizing how much “stuff” you have.

Then you organize it into categories. For the bathroom this included: medicine, dental, hair, ENT (ear, nose throat), makeup; travel; lotions, first aid, nail stuff, and shower stuff (shampoo, cleansers).

You then look at the stuff and say, “This is friggin’ ridiculous. I am going to purge at least 2/3 of all this stuff.”

You start by throwing away expired products. That takes care of a surprising amount. I had a contest with my family and some friends on what year was my oldest product. More on that later.

You then just toss. It’s surprisingly difficult, especially for those of us that find it painful to throwaway half-used dental floss or a perfectly good but rarely-used hairbrush.…..In the end you purge about ½.

You put remaining goods in containers for each category (for now it’s a small drawer set below in the vanity and boxes in the closet next to the bathroom. The boxes will be replaced by plastic containers post stay-at-home-order.

You take a deep breath. No more trips to Walgreens when you need nighttime AlkaSeltzer. Thank you Tom, Mr. Organized!

Bonus Feature: Turn an organizing event into a fun game! Play “Expiration Date!” Ask your loved ones, “What year do you think is the oldest, most expired product that was in my bathroom (or kitchen, etc).” The guesses ranged from Scotty, who asked, “What year did you move in your house?” (2000) to the oh-so kind Sheri, who guessed 2014.

Well, here were the runner ups and winner: Vitamins (2016); Antacids (2015); Desylin (2014); Airborne (2009) and the WINNER, the DEODERANT (2008). Congratulations to the winner, my niece, KRISTEN. You will be my guest at Sherman’s Dairy this summer for an ice cream treat!! (Did anyone else pick 2008? You will be my guest too!) Note: when Tom organized my kitchen two years ago he found a box of tea that expired in 1995!!! So fun!