Current Dirt

Tom’s grandmother passed away this week. She was 87 years old. One of my first memories of her was at her 80th birthday party at McGeary’s. You gotta love that, celebrating your 80th at an Irish Bar.

Mema, as she was affectionately called by family, suffered a stroke a few years back. With physical therapy she was eventually able to live on her own again with daily visits from a combination of family and special services. One such frequent service was a hair appointment. A woman after my own heart.

Towards the end of her life she lived in a nursing home, which at first was a pleasant change as she had a new social network. She would shoo you out of her room so as not to miss dinner with her girlfriends. Then, unfortunately, trips to the hospital became more frequent and she was admitted to hospice last Thursday.

Living just blocks from the hospital Tom and I made a point to be present during her move to hospice. Like Mema’s 80th birthday, her move to hospice will also be something I will always remember. This is not meant to be a dark or somber comment but rather a remembrance of the care and comfort Mema received at the end of her long, hardworking and beautiful life. The staff, atmosphere, and care she received was second to none. For such an extremely difficult step to take in a loved ones life it was a step taken at exactly the right time. And I can see that now.

Mostly our presence during the transition to hospice was for Tom’s mom, Maureen. Maureen has been a primary caregiver for her mother since her stroke. Mema’s quality of life after her stroke was largely due to Maureen’s dedication to her mother. A responsibility which fell primarily on her shoulders as she was eventually the only local sibling. A difficult role at any stage of a daughter’s or son’s life, but one Maureen took on with great pride and respect.

Mema always had a smile for friends, family and visitors. She cared deeply for the people in her life as we cared deeply for her. It is with both sorrow and comfort to know that Mema passed peacefully and is now looking down at us with that same smile that always lit up a room.

We love you Mema. May you rest in peace.

Her obituary: Ross, Shirley R. ALBANY Shirley R. Ross, 87, of Albany died Monday, September 10, 2007 at the St. Peter’s Hospice Inn. She was born in Oswego on January 31, 1920, the daughter of the late Fred and Vida (Bareham) Payne and graduated from Oswego High School in 1938. She was employed for 24 years by the Hartford Insurance Co. and had previously been employed by New York State. Shirley was a longtime member of the Third Reformed Church where she was active in the May Group and sang in the choir. She is the wife of Michael Ross; mother of Marshall (the late Emily) Kennedy, the late Lawrence (Phyllis) Kennedy, Dale Jenkins and Maureen Morgan; sister of Mary (Ken) Barlow and June (Glyn) Forbes; nine grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren also survive. Relatives and friends are invited to call on Friday from 4 to 7 p.m at the Applebee Funeral Home, 403 Kenwood Ave., Delmar. A funeral service will be held at 6:30 p.m. Friday at the funeral home. Burial will be in Oswego at a later date. Those who wish may send a remembrance in her name to the St. Peter’s Hospice, 315 So. Manning Blvd, Albany, NY 12208.

Poor Tom. He innocently asked if we had any plans for the Labor Day weekend. And yes, yes we had plans. Plans to strip the wallpaper off the kitchen walls. Poor Tom. He just had to ask.

So that’s what we did all weekend. We labored over two layers of wallpaper (which in our house is a treat) getting right down to the not so smooth plaster surface. And I say not so smooth because I wasn’t expecting such an ugly wall with so many holes and bumps and cracks. Nothing a little plaster won’t fix. At least I hope that’s how it works.

So between now and, oh, say, Christmas we will paint the kitchen (peanut shell). And then in the next year or two we will remove the lovely mint green plastic tile on the lower half of the kitchen walls and replace it with wainscoting or something else I am totally clueless about.

And don’t worry all you doubters, we are still a go for exterior painting and remodeling the second floor bathroom. With every breath I get closer and closer to accepting the fact that the equity in our house will be put back into our house and not used to buy a condo in Arizona for retirement or a fast food franchise or a start up company. Note to self: stop watching the ‘The Millionaire Inside’ and ‘The Big Idea’ on CNBC, it only makes you bitter and depressed!

A colleague of mine is a season ticket holder for the New York Giants. The seats have been in his family since 1978. This weekend the Giants are playing the New York Jets in a preseason game. I overheard the ticket holder telling someone he couldn’t use the tickets. That’s when I swooped in. Jets tickets? Did someone mention Jets tickets? Cause my husband is a HUGE Jets fan and boy would he love a pair of Jets tickets. I barely finished speaking when he gave me the tickets. That’s when I cleared up one little thing…how much are they? Answer…free. He said that I help him out so much around the office (he doesn’t have local administrative support) that he wants me to have them. Rock on!

And what perfect timing? Tom started his new job this week and what better way to show him how proud I am than a Jets game (even if it is preseason and the tickets were free)? So we are making a little trip out of it which will include outlet shopping and spending the night in northern Jersey. And the strangest thing is that I am actually excited to go to a professional football game. I never thought that would happen. Marriage changes you in many ways.

Oh, and did I mention the seats are in the third row?! Watch for us Saturday night at 8:00 on NBC. I’ll be the one with the clueless expression on my face standing next to a very happy guy.

Tom and I go out to dinner a lot. It’s almost like a bad habit of ours. We should break that habit and try cooking at home more often…one day. But it’s not that often that we go out for a fancy dinner. If we really wanna woop it up we go to the Outback. But when Blonde Things (Melissa) told me about the restaurant she works at on the weekends I decided it was time to splurge.

Melissa and I work together at a 9-5 job but she also works at the Red Barn which is located in a whole other county. I often get teased for not going places “on the other side of the river” which in my case means either the Hudson or Mohawk. What can I say I’m a city girl and crossing these rivers is a symbol of entering suburbia (unless of course you’re headed to Boston or Montreal, and then there’s the BIG Marshalls and outlet shopping – so exceptions can be made). Therefore the trip to Columbia County was an adventure in itself. Tom and I had a lovely meal and Melissa was a delightful waitress who impressed us with her ability to rattle off all the whiskeys in Tom’s honor. The personally prepared fresh food went perfectly with the country night. But I took the adventure one step further with my meal. I ordered the lobster salad. Um. Not quite the same as pipping hot lobster dipped in melted butter. I was a little surprised at just how different cold lobster was compared to hot lobster. I would like to go back again to try something more familiar since everything else that night tasted exceptional. So it’s a date…we’ll be back…next summer.

I thought that night would pretty much encompass my fine dining for the summer. I predicted our next dinner splurge would be our anniversary dinner in January. Then my friend Bree came to town. Bree and I went to High School together. She lives out of state but has family ties to the area. Her three adorable children have a grandma here. We set a night and agreed on dinner, just the two of us. A girls night out if you will. I envisioned cold beers and french fries and then I get this email, “I made reservations for you and I for dinner at 7:15 at 677 Prime. My treat.” Seriously? Just take a second to peruse the dinner menu to realize just what a generous offer this was. Done drooling?

I met Bree at her hotel room, said hi to the family and we were on our way to 677. I was going to drive us to the restaurant until Bree said, “But I want you to get drunk with me.” How could I let her down? So we walked. At dinner we drank, and ate, and talked, and drank and drank and drank. The girl got me drunk…on a Tuesday night! But it was worth every sip. We let our hair down, enjoyed the fabulous surroundings and each others company. We eventually (three hours later) walk stumbled back to the hotel when I realize I need to get home. Tom was more than happy to pick me up, but there was just one catch, my car was parked on the street and there was NO WAY I would be able to pick it by 8 a.m. when the meter started ticking. So Bree takes my keys, hands them to the valet and says, “See that car parked across the street? Can you put it in the garage for the night?” Good thinking girlfriend. I eventually bailed my car out around 2:00 the next day. And if you ever get a chance to go to 677 Prime I highly recommend the lemon drop martinis and melt in your mouth cheesecake (but then again everything in between was amazingly good too – just a little fuzzy).

I feel pretty confident that my next three digit dinner will be on my wedding anniversary. Unless it’s your treat!