I can't make this shi+ up or...

How to survive a South Salem sh!t storm. 

I love being in the country. I love this grand old home. 

It turned from a house to a home rather quickly and I've added my quirky touches to make it cozy. Like the 180 odd candle places in a big Gothic Eastern Orthodox candle stand. Or the wrought iron gates dividing areas of the house to corral the Hounds and keep them out of trouble. What I didn't anticipate, nor can thoroughly deal with, is the lack of love this home and property has endured. Kind of fitting: the lost girl and her rescue Afghans rescuing this grand old place from years of neglect.

First it started with Bertha, the loud and rumbling basement furnace in the original part of the house that can be clearly heard and felt four floors up. And the newer furnace in the new part of the house, nameless to date, who wouldn't go off. At all. The owner had the balls to tell me to open windows! After a 9k oil bill for 5 weeks, I told him not to di€k around and do something. So he sends Stinky, a useless one with bad breath who stands to close and tied to give me the once over. I corrected that right away and he hasn't been seen since. And the cheapest landlord on the planet who believes his cheap, quick fixes really work.  Karma, baby, karma. The flagstone front steps had grout that loosened. With a little investigating, it was revealed that a neighbourhood kid who was hired to fix them never cemented them down and someone almost split their head open leaving here one day as it tipped without proper distribution of weight and fell out of it's place leaving its victim tottering for dear life. Allah, Allah but it gets better.  And when the pool was opened, the flags surrounding it are still loose.

The 50', 11' deep pool needed a draining and an acid wash. Which I didn't have in my lease as my project.  

And the poor little cottage desperately needed interior paint and basically a total facelift inside to make her pretty and sweet again. But the owner is dragging his feet paying.

Then the grounds that haven't been touched in years. Box woods planted too close to the road that perished from salt and chemicals that were laid down this brutal winter had to be removed. Bushes around the house needed removal because the gutters weren't cleaned in ages and slabs of ice ended their little lives. Damaging limbs had to be removed and privet hedges needed a haircut. Now the grand entry looks, well, grand. Well, except for the rotted wooden gate the owner won't replace. 

The vegetable garden was so overgrown that it took 2 men 2 days to pull weeds and remove rocks to prepare it for some highly anticipated organic, non GMO-ed vegetables and berries. Woohoo! And there's even a tiny pond with three frogs in the garden that a previous tenant must have constructed. 

The gas fireplace between the new master and it's jacuzzi bath has to be fiddled with by a plumbing and heating specialist for its maiden warm-up.  It was never even hooked up. Speaking of the new master, the little Juliet balcony with a view of the pool has rotted out. 

The door knob in the pool house fell off in my hands one day.  The flooding down there has to be revisited. "Noah!" And at first I thought replacing a few toilet seats and under-cabinet lighting was a priority.  Hah!

It only took the owner 5 months to get the dishwasher cranking agian as well as the Garland stoves' ovens heating at all.

This weeks drama: the septic system backed up last Saturday leaving turds in one section of the dogs fenced in area and smells like, wait for it...shit! No kidding. And 3 of the dogs stand ankle-deep munching away whenever I turn my back for a moment. And the stench! Oy vey is mir. They smell like little mobile sewers and the whole back yard reeks.  Little sh£thead:

When the owner finally arranged a service pump out 6 days later, the tech told me the Board of Health has to be notified and the owner has to spend upwards of 25k usd to leech the leech fields or re-dig them or something time consuming and costly. Yes, he's gonna shit :) like I said, Karma, baby, Karma.

What a looooong strange trip it's been or...

....we loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly!

Swimming pools, movie stars. Richard Gere, Stanley Tucci, Ralph Loren and that evil Martha Stewart are our neighbors. We even have a see ment pond!  Golly gee, Jethro!

It's been such a long time and so much has happened. But nothing really ridiculous to write home about. Or here. I'm stuck on a Delta flight to Denver and have the opportunity and solitude to catch you up. 

We have a new sister for Zazzy and ililiSit!  Her name is Zelda and she's a black Afghan Hound. She's quite lovely and delicate, the opposite of you-know-who. And she's truly a blessing. She came from a tragic circumstance and the inhumane breeder severed her vocal chords so she can't bark. She tries, but nothing much ruminates from her little mouth. Heartbreaking. Fucking assholes. 

But she's the sweetest, gentlest, cuddly-est little girl anyone might dream to have on their couch. She was so frightened when she first arrived 27 April, 2013, that she cowered with her tail between her legs. She had been a kennel dog which means she was in an outdoor run all day then in a cage alone at night. It didn't take her long at all to warm up to me and the first night she gave me little kisses and rolled on her side and gave me gentle taps with her paw that meant she wanted a tummy massage. What a sweetie!

Mr. Zazoo took to her immediately and they sat together on the big bed by that first evening. ililiSit! was too friendly and way to nosey, which is her style, sort of like a New Yorker, and Miss Zelda had to put her in her place. Quite comical actually. Silly lili didn't get it at first. 

So, we're up in Beverly Glen with an Olympic-sized pool and a great fenced-in area around it that has to be a half acre.  When I called them in one day, Zazzy moseyed on over but silli lili wouldn't budge. Zelda herded her back to me! Damn, she's the best. Now lili flies back to me on the first call. 

Speaking of naughtiness, during a brief thaw, the bitches dug their way through the mud and under the heavily- fortressed fence. Sommabitch! It's a wooden 3 tier corral with 1x6's, a 2" square metal fence and chicken wire extended to 7-8 feet, depending on what part of the fence.  

As I've said before, praise Allah for Tagg.com. If it wasn't for Mr. Zazoo and his "mommy, mommy, Timmy fell down the well" bark and my iPhone with said gps tracking app, we all would have been up the proverbial creek sans paddle. I was able to get them home safely where the little bitches were so pooped that they both flopped in lilili's crate for a deep snore. 

So, we had the white boy come to add another 500$ plus labour of 1x6's around the bottom. That pissed off lili to no end. She was damned if she couldn't find a way out. Gopher. 

More about the see-ment pond: it was so cold that the accumulated snow froze on the cover and the bitches had a scating rink. They had a blast running and sliding and silli lili would downward dawg across the pool. Mr. Z was too damn sophisticated to get in on all the fun. He sat elegantly and gazed at the ninnies in disbelief. 

ililiSit!'s a little instigator. At first I thought the black kids were picking on her. This only happened outside when they horse

around. They nip and growl and it looks like a big commotion. I always break it up but one day I silently observed from a close distance. She actually egged them on, the little witch, and there I was, a Mama who felt sorry for her and I had deprived them of their monkeyshines. 

So, you might be thinking, Denver? What the...? Not Istanbul, Palermo, Marrakech or Dubai? Denver? Yes, Denver. As in SophieNo! territory. I'm going to meet her in a few and see why her Mama keeps trying to send her to me for a visit. Little does she know, I have silli Lilli and I'm dropping HER to visit SophieNo! 

Well, not really. I'm picking up 2 Afghan Puppies who have been rescued from deplorable conditions. A mini lili and a mini Zelly. Woohoo!

New babies returning from LGA. More later...I hope. Inshallah. 

The times they really are a changing or...

...I've never questioned my mortality in this way.

With great anticipation from the rumours about the newly re-opened and re-furbished Capitol Theater in Port Chester last night with little sis and a dear friend from high school days in Ahmonk. We had a great dinner at Fat Mario's Tarry Lodge and entered the theater that was so full of memories for me.  I had seen so many groups from the late 60's early 70's there with sis, parents and assorted friends. The Dead, the Allman's, Ten Years After, Rick Derringer with Johnny & Edgar Winter et al.

It smelled squeaky clean,  was well lit, bright and shiny when I entered the lobby--a far cry from the old days. No huge whiff of pot or haze of smoke hovering in the lobby. No throngs of wasted people holding up walls or staircases. No smiles either.

I hiked up two flights of stairs and entered the balcony with the show in progress. In the darkness, I looked down to the stage and saw a bent-over, frail old man hunched over a mike with a scratchy voice yelling out vocals for a tune I couldn't recognize. It took a moment but I was shocked when I realized that was the great Bob Dylan. I felt sad immediately.  Sad for him shlepping his poor old self on stage 200 nights a year.  More sad for me because I wasn't ready for it.  Then to see all the grey and white haired, out of shape, poorly dressed people bobbing to the music that was practically inaudible to me in the last row of nosebleed. It was too much. Too overwhelming for my delicate sensibilities. Pathetic.

Now I can understand why most people won't attend a retro concert.  I couldn't wait to leave.  In fact I called for a car after about 20 minutes and had to wait an eternity, or it seemed, to get home. Where I am safe with Silly Lily and Mr. Zazoo. In my "I'm never getting old" world.

"Mommy, Mommy, Timmy fell down the well!" or...

...Mr. Zazoo saves the day!

It was dinner time. I was preparing the kids' dinner while they waited patiently on the deck. All of a sudden Zazoo started barking crazy barks.  Not the Afghan-barking-tourture every 10 seconds, but wild, erratic like "Mommy, that damn ililiShit!'s being bad" bark. So, I ran up the spiral staircase as quickly as I could without breaking my neck to see Zazoo's ears out of his shmatah and jumping and barking frantically.  What now, Lassie?

No sign of ililiShit! so I ran toward the deck.  Not there. I heard a high pitched chirping/squeaking sound and thought, "Oh, not again," as I ran down the stairs toward her. She totally ignored me and poked something with her nose.  It was a baby squirrel.  He was alive, thank God, and screamed to his mama.  It was quite windy, so he probably was knocked out of his tree nest.  Poor thing.  I put the bitch safely away, grabbed a pair of latex gloves and a clean towel. The poor thing was almost in shock and he didn't move.  But his eyes were open.  I whispered as I gingerly picked him up. He didn't resist. I wrapped him loosely in the towel and put him to my bosom as I talked and made some silly little noises that I thought would comfort him.  He believed he was safe and he let me touch him so I looked him over.  No bites, no bugs.  Good.  He was just shook up. I would be too if I feel out of my penthouse flat onto a hard surface and then some floppy yellow giant with an ice cold nose started poking at me.

OK, now what?  I was so shook up and happy and frightened but I didn't know what to do. With Rocky in my bosom,  I walked over to the lady with the baby bunny incident and called Papa at the same time. He said the mama is looking for him and to get back there. He was right. Mama called and chirped for him but she wouldn't come down the fence. I had to get plan B.  Daylight faded quickly.  She said to contact wildlife rescue.  So I did.  I had a number in my phone but that woman said she couldn't take him.  A few others said the same thing. They all said to put him where the mama could see him but the hawk circled and squealed. I didn't want to leave him. I finally got someone who was kind enough to stop in with baby squirrel formula and feed him.  She told me Rocky was 6-7 weeks old and should go back to his mama.  I had quickly read up on baby squirrels without mamas so I made a hot water bottle to keep him warm, in a towel in a box with some walnuts in a warm bathroom overnight.  The plan: put him in the tree at dawn.  Keep little shit away from Rocky. She paced on the window ledge licking her chops.

As I closed my eyes and put my head on the pillow, I recounted my day and I felt good that I helped Rocky.  He was a sweet little guy and so friendly. I had pet him without gloves after the volunteer had held him in her hands. His fur was soft and he was a delicate little thing. I was so careful with him and didn't let his sharp, pointy claws get stuck in the towel because I read they can break a leg trying to get un-snagged. He let me hold him and I put him on my chest and I swear he was purring. There was a part of me that wanted to keep him and help him but I knew he belonged with another squirrel, not a squirrelly lady with two always-hungry-for-critters Afghan Hounds.

As soon as I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw mama squirrel as she came down the fence again to where I had placed him. I took him outside and climbed a ladder and put him in the fork of the tree.  He came back toward me.  So sad. I told him to find his nest and mama. I put him on the tree in a vertical position so he had to hold on and he climbed up, up, up, very quickly and precisely.  Hooray! He was going home.

All the dogs were kept indoors all day and I listened and looked to see if he was rejected, fell out or decided to run away from home again.  No sign of him.  Good. Or is it?

I hope he comes back to visit me one day.  Hats off to Rocky!

Houdini is getting a run for his money or...

...it's ilili's turn to be naughty.

Guess who slipped through the gate?

I was downstairs making coffee one morning and I saw movement outside in my perriferal vision. Lordy, it was ililiSit! rooting around in the lawn. Soaking wet. What the ??? So I went out and she was thrilled to see me; her back end wiggling with her tail flapping wildly. Except there was a huge 3 foot length of rose bush pulling her back legs and butt together. I laughed at her and pulled the prickers off her. I brought her inside to snap this pic.

Turns out she bore a hole thru the netting of the soft gate, scampered down to the waters' edge where I had trimmed back the rose bush but not collected the cutoffs and either chased a goose into the drink, fell in, or rolled around the dewy grass. This Mötley little girl is going to drive me to drink. and they think SophieNo! is precocious.

So guess who had a shower with me that morning???

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Be careful what you wish for...

...or a how to divert a morning of disaster.


Lately, there have been way too many Afghan Hounds and sight hounds running away and staying away in this great big nation of ours. Facebook is the perfect medium to spread the word. But to an anxious Afghan Mama of two, it's made me even more apprehensive. And anxious. So anxious that I've recently purchased a gps tracking collar for each Mötley Monkey.

They were charged up, activated and placed on their collars yesterday morning. When Zaz and I marched, it sent me an SMS stating he left the home zone. Cool.

We have had record-breaking mild weather this Winter. Man, Mother Nature heard my prayers. Finally. A wet snow day in October then another of about an inch that melted the same day in January. Blessed.

It's been really warm. So warm that daffodils and crocus are everywhere. A fog rolled in over the water at dusk so I knew we were in for some weather. Sweet Lucile texted a weather update. Colder, rain, possible thunder and high winds. I do love a good thunder and lightening storm and I love to hear the wind howl. The drama of it makes me feel alive and invigorated.

Ok. So the winds came and are still here this morning. Bright and sunny but windy! Love it. Looking forward to the march with Zazoo.

As they finished dining, I have to shuffle them around so...to make my life easier. I put ililiSit! on the deck and prepared to saddled up the big guy. He barked frantically as he peered through the front glass door. It was the "get the hell off my property" bark. So I took a look and saw the back half of a big yellow dog in the hedges surrounding the stairs. It took a second but...it was f ing ilili! She escaped. The first time in Premium Point, I thought. I put Zaz on the deck where i knew the table barricade was in place so he couldnt get down the stairs and grabbed her leash and the iPhone. I didn't have that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Priceless. I knew I'd get her back safe and sound. She came to me straightaway but slipped through my hands! Tricky girl. She had a romp through the neighbour's properties, of which I had the opportunity to see close ups of their homes as I watched ililiScamper not sit, through the properties at this early morning, Saturday morning hour.

We are not very far from a main road this time so that's the primary reason for the gps purchase. I saddled her two houses away as she peered into their glassdoor and we returned home. The gps system didn't even activate coz we were so close to our house. Easy peasy.

The confidence I had in knowing she had the locator affixed to her collar made me not stress and catch her in a more relaxed way. God, life is good when I take precautions. Priceless.

And how did she get out? I walked the grounds and saw that a big trash bin that sits outside the wrought iron gate was blown by the wind into said heavy gate which opened enough for her to scamper. Ahh, the wind that I love. Tricky.

The items are from tagg.com. Cost for both and charger is 200 USD. Monthly gps fee is under 10 USD. Live stream tracking comes up on a map on any smart phone. SMS and emails sent as well. http://www.pettracker.com/

There seems to be an incredibly large amount of Afghans escaping or...

...the humans that care for them just aren't feeding them enough?

Via Facebook, I learn about lost domesticated animals.  Some local, some nation-wide.  Afghans are the nationwide ones & friends constantly post & ask for cross-posting of these beautiful but illusive silly, scared animals safe return.

My stomach turns each time I read about another lost one.  Mine have been easy to bring home...so far.  But I got that strange, horrible feeling in the pit of my tummy after reading one of these postings this morning.  Time to do something.  Even though our posh new residence, Premium Point, is secluded from the outside world, we're only a block away from a busy main thoroughfare. Uff!  I can't even...ok, so what to do?

I asked Cesar Milan, but didn't get a reply. I also asked Afghan Hounds International & The Pedigree Database 

also known as the Afghan yentah hot line.  This was my post: 

I'm getting a bad feeling with all these Afghans taking a runner. I want to buy gps locators for mine so I'm not the next sorry MoFo posting about this. Question: What is the best system? I want to buy it today. If I can afford this expensive breed, then I sure as hell can afford a gps system to care for them. Thanks.

 I received over a hundred responses with only one, yes, one, reply to the question and it was this big, heavy collar with an antenna.  I can just picture my monkeys running around like "Lost in Space" or  Astro, "The Jetson's" dogs.  Oy vey.  I did manage to meet a lot of squirrel-y Afghan owners and was quite amused reading their comments.

Bottom line:  after some comprehensive research on my own, I purchased 2 collars, a white for Zazzy and a pink for...you guessed it.  With all the other stuff that comes with it & a monthly charge so I can track & find them with my handy dandy iPhone.

They will be here in a few days & hopefully the Jewel will don the pink one & we can play "hide and go seek".

What's wrong with this picture or....

...what did that damned ililiSit! Get up to now?

From years of traveling, I wash lingerie by hand, in the tub, as I wash myself. Time efficient. Conserves water. Saves the delicate fabric and elastic. So what I usually do is throw said lingerie into the tub when I peel it off at night and forget about it until it's washed In the morning with me.

Side note: since the spay/neuter drama, I've let ililiSit! have more freedom. Translation: she's giving her Facebook friend, SophieNo! a run for her money. First it was the commanda on Monday. Thank God they send a free replacement today.


And then today: When I walked into this kitchen this morning I saw something on the window seat. It wasn't a toy. It wasn't her because she was in her crate. Upon closer inspection I realised it was a brassiere. Mine! Damn her. And as I picked it up to bring it to the tub I noticed she really chewed it up. Little bitch. She even ripped it. It must have been fun and tasty coz it smelled like Mama.

Does anyone want an Afghan puppy, real cheap? In fact, I'll throw in some food, a crate, and many chewed items.

Never a dull moment or....

....how silly ilili scared the bejesus out of me yesterday.

I was upstairs talking to Papa via phone. She started to scream and I said bye to him as I almost killed myself going down the circular staircase. She screams sometimes when she hears me talking but this scream was different.

Relentless, heart-wrenching squeals at the top of her little lungs. I saw a leg sticking out limply from her crate. As I got closer, I realised she was stuck in the wiring of the crate by her bottom jaw. And still screaming. Her bottom k9's had prevented her from retracting her little mouth after she decided she couldn't bite the toggle open.

I tried to move her jaw around to remove it but to no avail. And she continued to scream. Talk about powerless? Shit, my baby is in trouble and I can't help her. Such a devastating feeling. One of the most horrible times in my recent life.

I sprinted next door, opened their door and yelled but no one was home. I could hear her screaming. It was Saturday afternoon and I guess everyone was out. In the three seconds I had to get back to my house, I prayed to the powers that be to help my little girl. I didn't hear her any more. Oh God, she passed out, I thought.

As I walked in, I saw she was free. She just sat there on her elbows. I opened the crate and she went into my open arms for a cuddle. Poor silly ilili!

All of her teeth were still intact but it looked like she was getting a fat lip. On closer inspection, she had a little abrasion under her chin which I cleansed with a peroxide soaked cotton pad.

I was more "shook up" than she. I called Papa back and told him what had transpired. "I hope she learned a lesson and won't try that again," was the only comment from the Sage. I hope so too. Poor ililiSit!

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.

Woohoo! On my way to Ist or...

...what a long, strange trip it's been.

Tripolina and I made it to JFK tonight and we are now pulling out of the gate! Hooray! I can't wait! Clips for docu to follow.

Is Bullwinkle gonna be pissed or...

...how to get the express breakfast.

The sun didn't break over the Orienta horizon yet. I tossed on a windbraker as I walked the yard first and then came back to let out good old Mr. Zazoo this morning. I went in to prepare ilili's food, then serve it while the coffee was brewing and the milk was warming in the micro. Ah, nice, hot, magnificent smelling coffee, first thing!

So I brought the coffee upstairs to the bath and was just about to take a sip when I glanced out the window to see Zazoo. I just like to look at him and admire his beauty.

But he wasn't near the humongous oak. I looked to the end of the yard. No Zazoo. Damn, dis he jump the brick wall this early? I sucked a long sip but didnt taste it and ran back down the stairs. I looked out the den window to see him sitting in an unnatural spot for him. His head was in an awkward position.
"Dammit!" he has something. I barked out orders to the sleeping Jewel and he followed me into the yard. He got the shovel and I turned on the hose. Zaz had a grey squirrel that he wasn't about to give it up easily. We chased him with the poor squirrel dangling out of his mouth, back to the house where the hose would reach him. I put my thumb on the nozzle to make the stream forceful and let him have it until he surrendered. He finally relented.

I told the Jewel to shovel up Rocky J. While I washed off Zaz's beard, ears and paws. Rocky joined the Wabbit from earlier this week apparently because the Jewel didn't look into the bin but said it reeked. the bin boys are gonna love me! Note to self: Big fat envelope.

Another note ro self: figure out how/why these animals must come into our garden when they know the "King of the Jungle" is on patrol. This thought might keep me busy on the long flight to Istanbul. Or will it? You be the judge.

On the midnight train to Georgia or...I'm really on my way back to Istanbul!!!

I'm less than 48 hours away from touchdown in Old Stamboul.  Hooray!  Can't wait to get back.  I miss the diverse culture, the vibrancy of an electric, magical city, the delicious food and, of course, the hot men.

Aside from their physical beauty, they have an inner beauty, a glow I just fail to see in the American men. I believe it's due to the fact that they sold out to capitalism.  They're just into life for the money; they can't enjoy anything. Miserable sorts. And they eat crap. Anyway..

Tripolina's probably going to join me and we'll start the rough out for the documentary as I schlep through my adopted city and you'll get to see it through my eyes.  Not the top 10 tourist spots that every idiot puts on their show, but the real Istanbul.

And I can't wait to see all my friends; cherished ones, business ones, casual acquaintances, and all the new friends I'll make.  And my FHBHDKIY :)

Allah Akbar.

the next time Zazoo bags a critter...

Are these varmints as dumb as they look or...

...are they exacting their revenge appropriately?

Case in point: Mr. Zazoo has killed copious amounts of non-domesticated critters this season in Orienta. He got another jack rabbit last night.

It had rained heavily all day. I asked the Jewel to contact Noah for the ark blueprints. He said the Nazi's got his Granddad Noah, so there wouldn't be any plans.

It let up around dinnertime, so I fed and marched Zaz. Good thing I wore me Wellies. We waded through streams that were once sidewalks. So it wasn't raining when we returned to the cottage and I left him in the garden. I went about some business in the house and glanced up to see what he doing at dusk. Usually he sits like the Spinx on his elbows in the hopes of a stupid squirrel or skunk walking into his domain. He was jumping around in the way that I knew meant trouble. He had something!

I ran out to see it was another big ol' jack rabbit and he wouldn't drop it. I grabbed the garden hose, put my thumb over the nozzle and let him have it. Mostly to wash his face and ears off and partly to force him to give up the poor dead bunny.

Worked like a charm and trotted him in.

I called Nazi Karl with a K, he promptly drove in the again pissing rain to drop said bunny in his final resting place. (the bin.)

Ok, so what's their revenge? Zazoo had tapeworms a couple of weeks ago and the vet said it was either from flea infestation or varmints. No sign of fleas. You do the math. So, who's the dumb one?

ilili's first book.

I'm ilili's Mama, too.  I just created her first photo book.

Click here to view this photo book larger