ilili is taking more than the spotlight away from Zazoo or...

..."Mommy, Mommy, look what I have!"

I just told Dominic two days ago that my kids have been good. Zaz hasn't killed anything in ages. And I felt like I wanted to suck it back in after I said it.

We had just done our dinner walk and I let him off the leash in the garden, noticing no critters on the ground. I went in to get mini-monkey and as we came through the door Zazoo was sitting in an odd place for him. I noticed something grey between his legs. Another friend of Bullwinkles. Dammit.

I dropped ilili's leash and went to the barn for a shovel. I know the drill. Zaz was throwing Rockie in the air and apparently she caught it for she raced around the garden with Rockie in her little mouth and Zazoo at her heels.

She wouldn't drop him so I turned on the faucet and grabbed the hose. Worked like a charm; she dropped it and I washed her down. I tied her to the picket fence so she couldn't get Rockie and I disposed of the poor creature.

Upstairs I had no mercy for her while I used the hair dryer without diffuser to dry her expediently. I didn't want her to catch her death. But let's see if she gets worms.

Oh, a mama's work is never done.

What is God trying to teach me or...

...

...

From an email to my friend Dianne in NY,

On Thu, Oct 6, 2011 at 1:32 PM, Zazoo's Mama wrote:

> This was written yesterday afternoon as I sat at the Marmara pool for a few hours. I had a great burger and had a chance to relax before a hamam scrub.
>
>
> > What's the lesson/s?
> >
> > I had a hot, damp, mosquito-chomping summer in Orienta. Repetitive, monotonous. Not making money didn't help. Lots of work with two dogs and a house and yard to keep clean.
> >
> > Meetings weren't doing it. I tried to connect with the women. Some are nice; others cold as ice. No wonder most of them are alone.
> >
> > My sweetie in Ist is in my heart but a million miles away.
> >
> > Zazoo killed many creatures and it's hard to deal with. He also thinks small cars on tight, narrow streets have to be lunged at and barked at. The dog commander helped a bit but...a lot of stress.
> >
> > No real friends. I feel like I'm settling. My happy, silly self has gone on vacation without me.
> >
> > Stomach has been upset for weeks. I think I'm eating right, taking supplements, some yoga and stressful dog walks. Monotony. Finally saw a doctor who ordered three vials of blood drawn and said it sounds like I'm depressed. I say no but I'm truly overwhelmed and unhappy. So I started Prozac last weekend. Let's see what happens. It can only get better.
> >
> > I try to keep a positive outlook. I'm telling others to look for the bright side and I can't stand their constant complaints. It's contagious. They should be shot.
> >
> > So my whiney long-time friend decides to fly with me to Ist. After she bought the ticket, she regretted it and whined. And whined. I should have told her to stay home. I thought it would be good for her because she was so miserable and needed it.
> Do I think I'm God? 
>
> > She's manic. One minute happy, the next, miserable. I can't be around it. Toxic. Every event was a big drama to her and she whined. And said she was going to leave. One day it was the Turkish beach, but no one wanted to see here there. Another day it was Paris. Another day London, then Dubai, then beirut, then Spain. Oy vey. And then she had a clown look on her face and told me she was happy. She was trying ro convince herself. 
> >
> > We spent way too much time looking for and obtaining housing coz she doesn't think she deserves the best and she's cheap. I'm on a limited budget but I can usually be happy anywhere. And she complained about everything during manic episodes.  Her dad told her not to worry about spending money. He was covering it. But still so cheap. I wish I had a credit card that worked. I would have left her where she was the first night.
> >
> > The man of my dreams was called out of town on assignment and he won't turn back till the weekend. I was looking forward to being with him, not her. God, I miss him. I was looking forward to his warmth and smile. And feeling his arms around me.
> >
> > The dog sitter quit after a few days. The replacement is having a difficult time. I'm neglecting my pets. I'm on the morning flight.
> >
> > I got no work done. I don't know what happened. People flaked. I was in no mood to shoot anything for docu. One dear friend spent an afternoon with me. That was grand. It was great to see how he has grown into a responsible, important man.
> >
> > I can't feel sorry for myself. Not my style. So...
> >
> > What have I learned?  Never travel with anyone who's unstable. Or crazier than I am. Why was I so insecure about going to see my sweetie? I should go alone, as much as it sounds like it sucks, because I've done it before and liked it. And ask God to help when credit cards can't.
> >
> > Self- reliance has to be dug out of the closet. I had wanted ro go much earlier but didn't have the resources. Perseverance has to be relied upon until I get my wishes. God listens. As you will see.
>
> This update is after relaxing yet invigorating hamam. I'm on the plane now.  I felt good as the brisk night air engulfed my tingling face as I emerged from the hotel into the teeming street.   I felt better already and I realized I was walking taller and had the bounce back in my step. I let go of the fact that I wasn't going to see my sweetie. God, I missed him. And I missed Zazoo.
>
> It would have been selfish to stay and wait. I had to get back to care for my children.
>
> I didn't have much time to get souvenirs and a pair of Mavi jeans. These Turkish jeans have the best fit ever. I also bought a couple of pastries for later.
>
> When I got to the flat, some Lebanese girls were waiting for the capogi, a doorman of sorts, to let them in. I had to speak to him about arranging a taxi to the airport. I thought I would wait on the street and look into all the bars and cafes that lined this pedestrian-only street with tables and chairs. I wandered back and all of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye I see the side and back of this guy walking away from me, about 15 feet from me.
>
> "Hey!" then, "Mustafa!" It wasn't a dream. He turned. It was him! Like a dream. Yes, just like a dream.  We ran into each others arms just like in the movies. Such a warm embrace. Such smiling eyes.
>
> He explained that when he received my SMS about having to turn back to NY, he left the location to come back to Istanbul to see me, however briefly. His phone isn't open for any international service so he couldn't call or SMS me. He was on his way home to email and Facebook message me. God is good. Allah aukbar! We had a great time visiting for a couple of hours in an outdoor cafe. We caught up on each others lives, our friends lives, what the future may hold and laughed. It felt good. I hadn't laughed since the first day in Istanbul because Madama Contrario had too many episodes. I must pray that she gets to a shrink.
>
> Ok, so back to the title. Patience, let go and let God. It was meant to be this way. And I should remember this for the next situation which are the dogs.
>
> Just before the gorgeous Mustafa appeared, the new dog sitter texted me about a police notice that someone had complained about the dogs barking. She wanted to go down to the police station but I told her to stay put. Uff. I get anxious just thinking about this. It will be ok. The dogs will be ok. I will be ok. God watches over me. And them. God is good.
> >
>
> Eta JFK one hour. I have Mustafa in my heart and soon my babies in my arms.
> >
> > Sent from my iPhone

I know recall how tough life can be in a third world, emerging country or...

...is it ao bad to live in NY and count my blessings? The search goes on. Here's a copy of an email send to my NY friend just now.

Hi Dianne,

I had a good flight. Some turbulence on the ground for housing but we found a reasonable place in the center. It was a block away from a club so it was noisy all night. Could hear a pin drop In the daytime but...

Between an oil delivery at one AM, constant scooters ripping past, drink men yelling in the street and street dogs woofing occasionally at ignorant passers-by, I think I had three hours sleep.

After two sleepless nights, our reservation for flat rental was ready. The guy was unreliable with timing and when we finally arrived at the appointed time, it was not to our liking. At all. Dark, dingy, dirty area to say the least.

We had looked at another flat that was also totally misrepresented. Hotel rates have sky-rocketed 35% in the last year in Istanbul and the locals are trying to jump on the booming economic bandwagon.

Back to the drawing boards to find a place to stay. We stumbled upon a new hotel that was really lovely but pricey. After a discussion with the manager, he told us about some apart/hotels they owned. So we schlepped with the pudgy doorman to see a couple of them. Brand new, clean, elegant. Nice. So we schlepped back to discuss price. A deal was made. Then we schlepped back to the first hotel with Mr. Pudge, who was gentle, filled a taxi with all the bags and all of us and drove through the tiny congested streets to the new spot. Except cars aren't allowed. Pedestrians only. So we schlepped, with poor Mr. Pudge huffing and puffing with the weight of the bags that weren't on wheels. Then we climbed up one flight to the elevator that took us to the third floor.

Two marble baths, efficeincy kitchen with washer, air-conditioning, one large bedroom and living room with balcony. Flat screen tv with satellite, on and off Internet reception but much more quiet than the other spot. At least I didn't feel the bass drum beat throbbing through me all night long. Minor noise was bearable at this point.

One observation: I still don't do noise well and that's why I chose to live in the country.

I'll tell you about the mobile phone debacle and the sissy Mary dog sitter who is quitting in another post.

God bless Turkey!

Sent from my iPhone

The eagle has landed or...

...how to have a coffee and nosh in Istanbul.

This is the way it's done here. Outdoor cafes are the norm, not the exception. Decompressing after 10 hour flight in Turkish Airlines new comfort class. Pretty nice overall but seats not built for sleeping. I managed to sleep about six hours and feel fine, especially sitting in this marvelous, vibrant city, but old Tripolina only caught a few winks.

Photo at Marmara Taxim Hotel, Kitchenette.