Domestic Putterings

A Hole in our Home, and in our Hearts

Four summers ago, a scraggly, sick, more-than-half-starved black cat half-walked, half-crawled into the back yard.

Friday, she left our home for the last time.

We made the difficult decision Friday to put Lenny to sleep. I did not expect to have to make this decision so soon, or so suddenly.

This is what you sign up for when you take a pet. Their lives, their well-being, are all up to you. It is the responsibility you get for the reward of companionship and love.

And, oh, were we rewarded by Lenny.

A Very Conscious New Year

Well, 2009 is officially in the history books and we're in the 2010s.

Many of us were happy to kick 2009 -- as well as the previous decade -- to the curb. Between terrorism, war, the economy and job losses, we had to look even harder for the silver lining.

Even in the midst of hard times, it's hard not to get a wee bit excited about the new year. Twelve months, 52 weeks, 365 days, shiny and new. Nothing bad has happened in them yet. Anything is possible.

During my career, I've written a few New Year's resolution stories. I've kind of soured on traditional resolutions, because very often they're made impulsively with no real idea on how to carry them out.

This year, I'm looking at the resolution thing a little differently.

Holiday Hilarity

Had to get Buckwheat and Lenny in on the fun!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Going Home ... and Coming Home

In case you're wondering about the long break between posts, your Domestic Putterer took a little vacation. And, it turns out, just in time.

I'd decided over the summer that, since I was out of work anyway, it'd be a good time to take a trip back to Connecticut to visit my family and friends. I'd missed my 25-year high school reunion last fall, and hadn't seen my grandmother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew in almost a year. Mackenzie and Nick are growing up so fast; I don't like missing such a big chunk of their lives. And, when your grandmother is in her mid-90s, you know -- but don't want to admit -- that opportunities for time together may be dwindling.

When plans started being made on Facebook for an all-years reunion for Pomperaug High, I figured I'd come back for that and stay about five or six days. Then it was announced that the Homecoming game for my college alma mater, Central Connecticut State, was the following weekend. So the trip got extended another five days. It'd leave me lots of time for family, but also time to see friends and just hang out. I knew that I wouldn't do half the stuff I'd want to, which led me to skip trips to New York City or the shore, and focus on people time close to home.

Brown thumb -- I Haz It

I got my mother's eyes and her smile. I got my father's dry sense of humor. What I didn't get from either of them was their natural ability to make plants grow.

Mom has spider plants and a Christmas cactus started decades ago by her grandmother. Dad loves having a vegetable and herb garden, making his own compost when I was a kid, and has always mowed the yard himself.

Most of my life, if you gave me a plant, it'd be dead within weeks. I just didn't have the skill or patience. With the arrival of my cat Lenny into my life, I got a built-in excuse not to have plants in the house. Lenny never met a piece of plant life she didn't try to eat, followed by horkage within minutes. Cut flowers, potted plants, my wedding bouquet were all potential feasts for her.

The brown thumb also extends to yard care. One of the reasons I bought the house I did was because of the lot. Being on a corner and across the street from a park, I have no neighbors on two sides. But it's also small -- 80 by 90 feet -- and level. We don't have to spend hours pushing a mower or spend thousands of dollars on a riding mower and maintaining it. Landscaping is minimal.

All About Me

Some of you may know me in real life, or as an "invisible friend." You may know me as Melissa, or Missy, or, if you knew me prior to 1983, Ish. But if you don't know me, an introduction is in order.

I'm a reporter by training and temperament, but not by trade anymore. I spent 10 years as a sportswriter, first in my native Connecticut then in upstate New York, picking up a few nice awards along the way, before moving to the sports copy desk and moving to Cleveland almost 10 years ago. The sports desk job was all right, but I missed writing and wanted to do something new. I'd always loved home stuff, decorating and design, largely due to the influence of my sister, Deborah, who is an interior designer. So when the Plain Dealer launced a weekly home/garden section, Inside & Out, in 2002, I moved over there to become the homes reporter. Those were some good years, as the advertising came in and we did lots of great stuff like the old Sophisticated Home magazine. Then the economy changed, the industry changed, and the axes started to fall. In December, the ax fell on me and 26 other good, talented people.