Yes Valentine’s Day was earlier this week, but it is no secret that I propose it should be more than just one day.
I know others may disagree. Some call Feb 14th a “Hallmark holiday”. But even the company itself says : “while we’re honored that people so closely link the Hallmark name with celebrations and special occasions, we can’t take credit for creating holidays… like Valentine’s Day.”
The birth of Valentine’s Day is at the very least a cloudy subject. One legend of many says that in the 3rd century Valentinus, a theologian and teacher was imprisoned and while in prison he restored the sight of his jailer’s blind daughter. The night before his death on Feb 13, 269 A.D he wrote a note to the girl signing it , “from Your Valentine.”
In the Victorian age people exchanged love tokens and handmade cards on the day. Hallmark did not even come into the picture until 1913 and began producing Valentine cards in 1916.
Many insist though that it is a commercial holiday, only created to sell flowers and chocolate. Others ask why do we need a designated day to celebrate those we love romantically and otherwise? Shouldn’t we be doing that every day ? True. But in this world that seems divided more each day, isn’t it a good idea to have a day on the calendar or a season to act as a reminder that we should lavish extra attention on those we cherish?
It may even help with the winter doldrums . Let’s face it, once the twinkle lights and glitter of Christmas are packed away, January and February can seem rather dreary in comparison, especially weather-wise depending on where you live. So making your home festive inside, can brighten things up even if the sun is not shining outside.
In our household the Christmas season lasts well into January. As my husband has said, in the cold and dreary days of winter why not keep things up as winter decorations? So we enjoy our tree and holiday decorations into later January and even Feb 1st. Taking down Christmas is always a sad task and never as much fun as putting things up. But what truly helps with Christmas withdrawal is promptly putting up our Valentine decorations. So right now our house is a sea of cheery red and pink.
Valentine card giving may be to some a thing of the past , but who doesn’t like to receive one in the mail? We were happy to receive 4 of them this year and each prompted a smile when I saw the red envelopes adorned with heart stickers. It’s little gestures like that , that do make a difference.
Why not take time during Valentine season to express extra gratitude for those in your life that you care about, even if it is just a text across the miles. It is a season to love more, care more, hug more and even be reminded to treat yourself more kindly. And it can only act as a reminder to keep the “Valentine spirit” year round .
And as Charles Schultz said “ All you need is love…. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt”.
So here is a very decadently chocolate recipe to share with those you love.
Katharine Hepburn Brownies
1/2 c. cocoa or 2 square (2 oz) unsweetened Baker’s Chocolate
1/2 c unsalted butter
1c sugar
2 eggs
1/4c flour
1 tsp vanilla
Pinch of salt
1 c chopped walnuts or pecans
Heat oven to 325
Melt butter with cocoa or chocolate together in pan over medium heat. Whisk until blended.
Remove from heat and stir in sugar.
Whisk in eggs and vanilla.
Stir in flour , salt and nuts ; mix well.
Pour into a well buttered 8 in. square baking pan.
Bake at 325 for about 30 to 35 min. until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Do not overbake. These are fudgey brownies. Cool completely and cut in squares
You can frost these if you like with your own chocolate frosting or ganache.
Background on the history of these Katharine Hepburn brownies can be found at
Oscar Day 2023 is behind us. I realize to some it is just another night, but in our household Oscar Sunday is like the Super Bowl.
I was raised on the movies and my fascination started at a young age. As a child of course I was taken to the obligatory Disney movies, my first being Snow White. But my mother also took me to see more grown up fare. My first recollection of a movie that was not a cartoon was Gigi and I was around 4 or 5. I had no clue to the storyline, but I sat wide-eyed at the lavish costumes and scenery.
My mother always watched the Academy Awards and from my bedroom, next to the living room , which had only an accordion door that did not fully shut, I could position myself on the bed and through the tiny crack, catch flickering images of the magic of Oscar night .
By the time I was 11, I was allowed to stay up for the broadcast which on the East Coast could go well past 11 pm. My first Oscar night was 1965 when Julie Andrews won Best Actress for Mary Poppins ; Rex Harrison, Best Actor for My Fair Lady and that film also won Best Picture. Since our tv was black and white, I could only guess at the colors of the glittering gowns of Debbie Reynolds, Audrey Hepburn, Angie Dickinson, Angela Lansbury and Joan Crawford, who were among the presenters. But even in black and white the glamour and the excitement of the evening was magical.
That excitement and fascination has never left me. Even now I am agog at the the designer gowns and the sparkling jewels on the Red Carpet . But most of all, I love Oscar night as it is a celebration of movies , their joy and their power.
And movies do have power.
The first time I felt this power was when I saw Dr. Zhivago and had to leave the theater sobbing as Omar Sharif collapses running after Lara.
And most recently in the current crop of Oscars movies, I felt it watching The Banshees of Inisherin. It is a testimony to the power of movies, that although I liked very little about this story, it still shook me to the core. The movie was billed as a black comedy but I found nothing in it comical. Seeing the utter devastation on Colin Farrell’s character, Pádraic’s face when his long time friend announced he no longer wanted to be friends with him, packed a powerful punch and hit too close to home. I had lived the feelings in the movie. This past year my husband and I had friends who we have known for over 20 years tell us in an email that they no longer wanted to be our friends . We got a bit more of an explanation than Pádraic got in the movie, but our faces were every bit as distraught as his as we read the email. Our friends summarized their reasons , but each of the ill-conceived notions could have easily been discussed and talked out if they valued the friendship, which obviously they did not. None of the email made sense and we knew there had to be more that was not being said.
I read a quote recently that said “ Friendships heal by making the unsaid said and they die from the unsaid never being said. “ Our one time friends’ unspoken words were truly a poison that killed what we had considered a thriving, close, dear friendship. Like Colin Farrell’s Pádraic, we were left wondering how this could possibly happen and we were not given a chance to address whatever the reasons were for detonating the relationship. The saying goes that “Art imitates life” but the topic of friends not wanting to be your friends anymore is not a subject generally explored in film. You can find many movies that depict romantic breakups but few to none with someone saying they no longer want to be your friend. It sounds like something you’d hear on the playground between two 10 year olds.
We watched Banshees of Inisherin , a movie we did not even like and relived the hurt of our friends’ stinging words. And when Oscar night came, although I was in awe of Austin Butler’s Elvis, I found myself half wanting Colin Farrell to win the best actor award! His anguished face in that film spoke to what was in our hearts and I so identified with his character that I was rooting for him in a film I didn’t even like! Oh, the power of movies!
Colin Farrell did not win the award nor did Austin Butler. Brendan Fraser did for a movie we did not see, The Whale. I am sure , from the clips we’ve seen, his award is well deserved . I am sure his performance was as compelling as all the other nominees and stirred emotions in its audiences. And that is what movies do.
It is that power of movies to capture our hearts and speak to us personally that we celebrate on Oscar night. It is a celebration of that power and also it is the power of dreams. Whether I have seen all the nominated movies or very few , the excitement on the faces of those that get to hold the gold prize captivates me. And it is a joy to watch the power of dreams coming true.
I went to the mailbox not long ago and there was a lovely field of sunflowers peeking out from the usual “junk mail”.
It was a postcard from a friend, just to say hello. I found myself immediately smiling when I saw it. I re-read it a couple times over, relishing the actual handwriting. It was like I was looking at some ancient artifact. And isn’t that what actual letter writing or handwriting, has become?
In a world where we most often use texts or emails to communicate (and even those are rare these days) seeing an actual handwritten letter has become a thing of the past. Certainly, any communication is appreciated. But even texting in real sentences is sometimes rare. “Okay” is reduced to “K” or “thanks” to “thx”. So seeing a handwritten letter is a welcome sight. Someone has taken the time to actually WRITE!! How novel!!
Speaking of the lost art of letter writing, I just finished reading “As Always Julia, The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto” .
It is a collection of letters between Julia and Avis DeVoto, that started when Julia was living in Paris and Avis in the U.S. Avis’ husband Bernard had written an article in a major publication about the poor quality of American kitchen knives. Julia read the piece and was compelled to send Mr. DeVoto her take on the importance of proper kitchen utensils, along with sending the perfect French knife. Avis was answering her husband’s mail so responded to Julia’s thoughtful letter . And with that a great correspondence began and indeed a great friendship.
The book is fascinating in that not only do they discuss their passion for cooking, excellent cookware, ingredients and recipes but as the years went on their correspondence gave an insight into their private worlds and the larger world around them : the political climate of the 1950s and their attitudes and opinions on what was happening at the time.
As you read the letters you can see this wonderful trust between them building , letter upon letter. Avis had publishing connections and actually nurtured Julia’s whole process of having her book “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” published. There is great enthusiasm and support reaching out across the miles in each line.
I can relate totally to this, having my own pen pal, Jean from England, starting when we were around 11 or 12 . Our letters back-and-forth were as faithful and frequent as Julia’s and Avis’, albeit on different subjects. Ours was a friendship fueled at first by my love of the Beatles and hers of the Monkees, her dedication to her pet guinea pig, Snowie and mine to my beloved cat, Tiger. We talked about school friends, crushes, and dreams of the future. It was rather like writing in your diary and sharing inner most thoughts and feelings . I still have a great many of those letters and love to look at her beautiful handwriting along with her drawings of fashions she was dreaming of designing. Those letters are treasures. I remember looking forward to the mail and what Jean was going to say about the latest new group she was following or wanting to share with her what was going on in my life. Although this wasn’t a face-to-face friendship until much later, it was very much the start of an enduring one that 56 years later exists to this day. The little girls who were writing from Weaverham, Cheshire and Rochester, NY, are still in contact , albeit not as frequently. But when we do connect via email or Facebook Messenger, the genuine friendship is felt even through the distance and the time that has passed.
We got to know each other through those letters. We finally met face to face in the 1990s. At the time , my husband asked if I was nervous that Jean and I might not like each other or have anything to talk about. I had not given that a thought, as we had known each other so well on paper all these years, so of course we would like each other! And indeed we immediately felt at home when we met and it was like we had always known each other, which in fact we had , through our letters. We have since had the pleasure of having Jean and her husband Nick in our home and we have had the delight in visiting them and seeing their world in the UK. It was with great joy I found myself walking with her through her town and village after reading about it so often in her letters.
So when I read Julia’s and Avis’ correspondence it brought back that wonderful feeling of anticipation for the next letter greeting me in the mailbox with familiar handwriting. And when I got the sunflower postcard in the mail, I realized once again how important those personal connections are and how appreciated.
Of course any communication is important . Sure we have social media and can keep in touch with happenings in that way, but someone taking the time to connect one on one, gives a personal touch that would be lacking in a Facebook post that goes out to all.
It’s that personal touch and connection that I think we all crave. And to make it even more personal , If you ever feel like really making someone’s day a little brighter, I suggest taking pen in hand and writing a little note or letter and sending it. It is guaranteed to leave someone smiling.
And speaking of leaving someone smiling, here is a recipe for Julia’s “Reine de Saba” (Queen of Sheba) cake which she shared with Avis in her letters. It is a classic , decadently delicious chocolate almond cake fit for a Queen ..or King ..at Christmas.. or any time.
Julia’s Reine de Saba Cake
Use a Round cake pan , 8 inches in diameter and 1 1/2 inches deep
4 ounces or squares semisweet chocolate , melted
2 Tbsp. rum or coffee
1 stick softened butter
2/3 cup granulated sugar to mix with butter
3 egg yolks
3 egg whites
Pinch of salt
1 Tbsp. granulated sugar to beat with egg whites
1/3 cup pulverized almonds
1/4 tsp. almond extract
1/2 cup cake flour , scooped and leveled, sifted
Chocolate-Butter Icing (recipe follows)
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Butter and flour the cake pan. Set the chocolate and rum or coffee in a double boiler over almost simmering water; let melt.
Cream the butter and 2/3 cup of sugar together for several minutes until a pale yellow, fluffy mixture. Beat in the egg yolks until well blended.
Beat the egg whites and salt in a separate bowl until soft peaks form; sprinkle 1 Tbsp. sugar and beat until stiff peaks are form.
With a rubber spatula, blend the melted chocolate into the butter and sugar mixture, then stir in the almonds, and almond extract. Immediately stir in one fourth of the beaten egg whites to lighten the batter. Fold in a third of the remaining whites and when partially blended, put in one third of the flour and continue folding. Alternate with more egg whites and more flour until all egg whites and flour are incorporated.
Pour batter into the cake pan. Bake in middle level of the preheated oven for about 25 minutes. Cake is done when it has puffed, and 2 1/2 to 3 inches around the circumference are set so that a toothpick put into that area comes out clean. The center should move slightly if the pan is shaken, and toothpick inserted in that area comes out oily.
Allow cake to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Run a knife around the edge of the pan, and reverse cake on the rack. Allow it to cool for an hour or two; it must be thoroughly cold to be iced .
Frost cake with Chocolate Butter Icing and press crushed almonds on top and/or sides of cake.
Chocolate Butter Icing
2 ounces (2 squares) semisweet baking chocolate
2 Tbsp. rum or coffee
5 to 6 Tbsp. unsalted butter
Directions
Place the chocolate and rum or coffee in double boiler over almost simmering water to melt.
Remove from heat , let set 5 minutes or so, until perfectly smooth.
Beat in the butter a tablespoon at a time until chocolate mixture has cooled to spreading consistency. Spread it over your cake with spatula or knife. Decorate cake with almonds,
Years ago when probably in my late 30s or early 40s, I was exiting a grocery store one sunny Sunday in May when I was greeted with a red rose and a cheery “Happy Mother’s Day” by a smiling store clerk. I snapped back at him with a very indignant , “ I am not a mother” . He then said “ Well, you HAVE a mother… so “Happy Mother’s Day”. I countered with “My mother is dead”. His face fell and I stomped off to my car.
Looking back on it, I cringe at my behavior. True, I am not a mother , but that is a choice we made and I don’t lament it. And although it is hard in a society that glorifies the choice to have children to not feel an “outsider” on Mother’s Day, my indignant response to the clerk was wrong. Whether one has decided not to have children or one cannot or does not yet have children, one can still honor Mother’s Day . Many have wonderful even “maternal” relationships with their nieces , nephews or godchildren or even their furry four legged families. It is safe to say that we can be a “mother” to someone even if not a biological one. Indeed there are those like myself that have been fortunate to have had two mothers in their lives… aunts or grandmothers , cousins, or friends who have been there for us and “mothered” us lovingly. The clerk was right, we all have mothers.
But Mother’s Day can be a sad day for those of us whose mothers , biological or not, are gone. Yet their love still lives on and that is a testimony to the strength of a mother’s love: that it does live on in our hearts and is an active presence in our lives , even when they are not here.
This is the first Mother’s Day that I truly have no “mother “present and alive to call on this day and talk with, send flowers and thank. Even when my mom was alive, i recognized this day as a day to celebrate not only my own mom but my Aunt Marlene. When my mom passed, I was grateful for the relationship I always had with my aunt. My Aunt Marlene was always a second mom to me even when my own was very much alive. My mom was grateful for that and not jealous of it. She often remarked how thankful she was that I had that relationship with her younger sister and I am thankful I had a mother who was so generous in heart.
For me, I have learned that Mother’s Day is a day to reflect on all that my own mother taught me and gave me when she was on this earth and even now when she is gone, now almost 46 years ago. I reflect on her love, the joy she brought to life, her caring, her unwavering encouragement and delight in everything I did and her glowing praise and affection to me always.
I also reflect on Mother’s Day on all the things my Aunt Marlene gave me : her shoulder and ear always, her giving spirit, her unfailing inspiration ,even when she was going thru so much, and her beautiful laugh that could always make me smile.
I miss them both dearly and on Mother’s Day especially this year, I feel all over again that sadness of not having a mother here on this day that celebrates mothers. And if I am given a garden rose and greeted with a “Happy Mother’s Day” on the upcoming holiday by a well meaning store clerk, I will accept it gladly. I have been blessed to have had two mothers in my life and am thankful for the garden of beautiful memories that have grown from that love and that are always with me. And that gift is truly one to be celebrated.
Her cards are creatively delightful and her words are always on point.
With the New Year here and so many, including myself, feeling less than optimistic amidst the talk of yet another new variant and the unsettled feeling that prevails, the words on the card : “rejoice in the joy of the small things” is a necessity and good advice. It’s important to find our joys where we can and even in the most simple pleasures.
In January, cozying up with a mug of hot chocolate is indeed a simple, but joyful pleasure. It is one for sure to bring a smile and comfort .
And the best hot chocolate I have ever had was in Paris at Les Deux Magots. For decades Les Deux Magots was the gathering spot for artists, writers, and creative luminaries. Their sweetened concoction of melted chocolate is thick and decadent and delicious. Their recipe is surely a secret , but this comes close. Enjoy and indulge!
Parisian Inspired Hot Chocolate
4 servings
2 cups whole milk
4 ounces 60% cacao chocolate, finely chopped
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
In a small saucepan, bring milk to a boil over medium heat.
Whisk in chocolate and sugar until blended.
Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until completely smooth and heated through and thick. (Do not allow to boil).
Stir in vanilla extract. Divide among cups and serve immediately.
This blog is called Everyday is a Holiday and as I pointed out in the “about” section in a disclaimer…that title is a bit misleading as everyone realizes life is not always a holiday!! The last time I posted on this blog was February. And the months from that time onward have been anything but a holiday. We lost our beautiful Aunt Marlene to a long and courageous battle with lung cancer . She had always rallied, but this time it was not meant to be and she left us sadly in June. I did not feel like writing before this time .
And now deep into December I decided instead of sharing thoughts on my dear Aunt who was like a second mom to me…although I know I may do so in future posts… I would share instead a recipe that is so associated with her at this time of year: Her Italian Sfingi recipe.
Yet suddenly I could not find the recipe! I knew she gave it to me the last time we visited at Christmas in 2019. Yet you know how it is, in the midst of all the ribbon, wrap and gifts, things get put aside and lost. I could find it nowhere. So I found myself praying to St. Anthony, that stalwart of saints who I have been told since I was old enough to really listen, finds things. He is the “go to saint” for the careless, the absentminded, those that misplace things regularly. Being one of them as a child , I found myself bending St. Anthony’s ear with great frequency. He didn’t always come through for me. In fact I told my mother that surely he must be keeping all the loot lost somewhere for himself and that is why no one can find it!! Maybe my sacrilegious sarcasm alone made St. Anthony turn a deaf ear to me. Whatever the reason, I have not been too much of a believer of his powers. (which is sacrilege enough in an Italian family) . My friend Janet says that if St. Anthony does not come through, after awhile, you have to go straight to St. Jude, the patron saint of the hopeless. In fact she says she bypasses St. Anthony completely and goes straight to St. Jude. So it happened that when I couldn’t find my Aunt Marlene’s recipe, I called upon St. Jude. And he came through. Which means either I am hopeless or that St. Anthony gave up on me and St. Jude pitied me, or my Aunt Marlene surely had something to do with me finding it. Whatever the case- here is the recipe. They are lovely little, light pillows of sweetness that melt in your mouth and to me spell Christmas .
Aunt Marlene’s Sfingi with Ricotta
1- 1/2 lbs. ricotta
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 -3/4c flour
3 Tbsp baking powder
4 -1/2 Tbsp sugar
pinch of salt
Mix all together until smooth
Drop by tbspful in hot oil
If oil is hot enough, sfingi will cook and turn over without help. If not, turn with a large spoon to brown on both sides.
Add as many sfingi that will fit in skillet or deep-fryer but without crowding. Fry until golden brown.
Drain on paper towels . Sprinkle with powdered sugar , and sprinkles if you like
This card by Mary Engelbreit is a favorite of mine and it is timely for right now. It is almost a year since the pandemic hit. I look back at our calendar for January/February 2020 and nearly every weekend was full with play dates, movies out and most of all, dates for getting together with friends. Then all of the sudden it all comes to a halt after the first week of March. The calendar remains bare until it picks up again with outdoor social distance dates in the summer. Then later in the year once cold weather hits, connecting goes back to Zoom happy hour dates/ phone calls and texts Of course all that is no substitute for face to face visits and for friends that are in another state, we have not seen each other in over a year. And that is a statement I never would have believed could be true.
But true friendships can be a comforting presence without the pleasure of being physically present. Being “together” doesn’t always mean being in the same space. Indeed, there are friends that remain constant in our lives even though we are not face to face.
There is a quote going around that says that one should especially honor friendships that allow you to pick up from where you left off , regardless of how long it’s been since you have connected; and that friendships that survive those silences and space are the ones that never diminish. I would beg to differ somewhat with that. Friendships need communication to survive . You can’t just neglect your garden and expect your flowers to grow! It’s the same with friendships. Of course one can go without seeing each other and still pick up where one left off months and maybe years later. But without a caring connection in between….the checking in on each other… the sharing and giving attention to each other.. there is something that is diminished. To me, the friendships that flourish are the ones that may have to withstand distance and spaces, but still care to keep up with what is happening in each other’s world and what matters to each other. Those are the delightful “constants” in life. Near or far, they are the ones that make a difference and matter.
It’s Christmas week and for the first time ever we are “Home for Christmas” : as in… IN our home for the holiday, as opposed to being “Home for Christmas” in Rochester , NY where we both were born and raised. We always have considered ourselves fortunate to have two homes. And it has been a 40 year run visiting our East coast home at holiday time, stopped only by the pandemic. Traveling back via two planes and two airports didn’t seem “safe” this year for family there or us. So we are celebrating as we did at Thanksgiving- here at home.
Here or there though , the scents of Christmas follow us and are greatly influenced by childhood kitchen memories : the scent of vanilla in sugar cookies that my Aunt Marlene makes every year; the strong aroma of anise that my husband’s mom used in her cut out cookies; and the heavy aroma of rum. Rum Cake was always a tradition for holidays and birthdays in our household growing up. We would get them at a neighborhood bakery : rummy layers with chocolate chips laced in between and a sugary frosting covered with nuts thrown like confetti on top. I have yet to duplicate that recipe as hard as I have looked everywhere for something similar.
But the Pioneer Woman comes through with this rum soaked (literally ) bundt cake. It is not the sugary confection of my childhood but there is enough of a Rum hit to suffice. I sometimes have added a 1/2 c of coconut to this but this time baked it without. Any which way one does it, you HAVE to like rum . And I mean REALLY LIKE rum. There is a half a cup in the cake and then 3/4 c is used in a syrup which is poured over the cake after poking 100 holes in it. Yes 100 . So the rum is infused into every corner.
Like many , our Thanksgiving celebration this year was different. We, for 30 plus years, have traveled to the San Francisco area to be with family for the holiday. We always look forward to the road trip with excitement. It is our “kick off” to the holiday season. We always enjoy stopping at the lovely Magnolia Inn, in Jacksonville, Oregon on the way. We enjoy the drive down; the magnificent views of Mt. Shasta; and sharing the holiday with our Aunt Grace. We enjoy the hustle bustle of the whole weekend : shopping in Union Square; seeing the Christmas lights in the city at night and dining in our favorite restaurant overlooking the Wharf. But this year is not the year for travel. So it was dinner for two at our dining room table instead. And although it was different , it was no less special. It reminded me of a package we received from our friend Bonnie, right before the holiday. It set the theme for our Thanksgiving and the Christmas holiday to come :
So we “Stayed Cozy” this Thanksgiving. Whether traveling or at home , no matter what the setting, we are so thankful for what we have together and the blessings of family & friends in our life, near or far. And dinner for two & cozying up at home was exactly what felt right this year. We enjoyed my husband’s delicious smoked turkey and cozied up later with a slice of scrumptious Pecan Bourbon Pie ; recipe courtesy of the Pioneer Woman
And since we started putting our Christmas decorations up last weekend we were surrounded by holiday cheer. And in 2020 , we all need an extra helping..or two.. of that !!
I know there is a “National Dog Day” ..and this is not it.
But it seems appropriate to talk about pets this week …as we lost a cherished member of our family : our four legged , brown eyed handsome nephew, Gatsby. And he was THE GREAT GATSBY for sure, living up to his name. Our brother got him in 2009 as a rescue, but I think it was the other way around. He came into our brother’s life at a dark time for him and he brought a much needed bright light. We had also just lost a few months before , our beloved dog Steve. Gatsby came into our lives and stole our hearts too.
I have heard it said that he was an 80 lb lapdog. And it was true. If you were willing, when his paw would go up on your knee , you knew that next he would be cozying up in your lap . Well as cozy as an 80 lb dog can get in one’s lap! But he sure tried and always seemed to succeed in looking totally comfortable even if you weren’t : ) But how could anyone say no to that face?
Not taking anything away from our dogs, who we loved and still love dearly, but Gatsby had the sweetest face of any dog I have known… and the sweetest disposition.
For a big dog he was frightened of many things…small noises, and sometimes if someone came to the door , even someone he knew, he’d balk. Who knows what he endured in the year before our brother rescued him to make him so skittish. But all that was behind him when Gatsby came into his new life. He was loved by not one , but two caring Dads and spent many happy hours with them and his brother the furry handsome Cole, who we imagine right now is sharing a bed with him that is ridiculously too small for them both, but they seemed to always prefer that and make it look totally comfy..
We took care of Gatsby many times and always looked forward to his visits. They always went too quickly. Just seeing that face was enough to make you smile. With his passing this week, it surely doesn’t seem like there is anything to celebrate. But Dogs give us so much and what they give us far outlasts their short years. Gatsby’s presence in all our lives and his continued place in our hearts, is a gift that we will always celebrate and cherish.
