The 'Muthah' is...GONE!

If you grew up in 'Vah Beach' when I did...I have some HORRIBLE news.
The Jewish Mother---aka: 'Thah Muhthah'---has been torn down...

(take a moment...bow your head...it's OK...I feel ya....)

I remember going to 'The Muhthah', way back when, as a mere 5th grader(I think)---when it was only one small, 'shot-gun' style, restaurant...NY style deli...
(The neon purple lights in the window gave it an awesome glow).
Yeah---they had plastic plants...an awesome deli case...and the BEST hot pastrami on rye sandwich in town...complete with macaroni salad and a dill pickle.
...they also had cheesecake...(which at the time I was so not 'in' to.---foolish child I was!)

The Jewish Mother was the first place that all the 'moms' would let us 'Beach Girls' go and eat without being chaperoned...
(Margaret L., Caroline P., Virginia S., and me...the Boogie Board Surfin' QUEENS!)
The booths had those bouncy naugahide seats....that left you sitting lower than the table.
We were Smokin HOT in our Pete Smith's Surf Shop T's, OP corduroy shorts---and later in our Alligator shirts with safety pins through the Reptile...because we were so 'punk'...and wedge flip flops, no doubt!

We then all 'graduated to boys who wore original Vans and surfed'....(Hello Gray!)

In High School...we took our 'dates' there...we were so damn 'edgy'...educating all those land-lubbers to 'Life at the BEACH'!
Remember movies at Lynnhaven Cinema...and then a hot fudge brownie at the 'Muhthah'???...
(Home by 11pm!)
(ahhhh---Syer and Dotalo---yeah you do! hahaha!)
I had my first 'legal' beer there when I turned 18---with 'LOOCH' and 'Hammy'...
(there is a pic somewhere around her...)

In my College years (aka: Madonna wannabe)...

several 'break ups' happened on the hallowed grounds of the 'Jew Moo'...
(sorry Frank R....mom said you were too 'old' for me...)
Throughout the last 30 years...The Jewish Mother has always held a special place in my heart---and 'history'.
Now she is gone.
'Sad' does not even begin to 'cover it'.
(And let me tell you...if they tear down the 'Pocahontas Pancake House'---there WILL be a revolt!)

Letting Go.

"To Let Go does not mean to stop caring;

it means I can't do it for someone else.

To Let Go is not to cut myself off,

it is the realization I can't control another.

...

To Let Go is not to enable,

but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To Let Go is to admit powerlessness,

which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To Let Go is not to try to change or blame another,

it is to make the most of myself.

To Let Go is not to care for,

but to care about.

To Let Go is not to fix,

but to be supportive.

To Let Go is not to judge,

but to allow another to be a human being.

To Let Go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,

but to allow others to affect their destinies.

To Let Go is not to be protective,

it is to permit another to face reality.

To Let Go is not to deny,

but to accept.

To Let Go is not to nag, scold, or argue,

but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To Let Go is not to adjust everything to my desires,

but to take each day as it comes, and cherish myself in it.

To Let Go is not to criticize and regulate anybody,

but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To Let Go is not to regret the past,

but to grow and live for the future.

To Let Go is to fear less,

and love more."

 

(I did not write this....found it as a 'quote'...good stuff to remember.)

I love my dog....I love my dog....

Today was a typical Spring Saturday for me...

I spent at least five hours working on my yard...cleaning out the beds...recutting the borders...raking...using my leaf blower...even had a dead dogwood taken down---which I, myself, hauled to the back yard...
(isn't 'log tossing' a sport? I think it should be, if not.)

As the sun was setting over 'yon',  I was gathering my tools, ready to go in...I noticed my dog, Roxy, standing on the wood pile.
(She loves the 'vantage point' on TOP of the wood pile as she surveys her domain.)

~Some background on Roxy the Foxxy Beagle: She is a rescued beagle mix, aka: 'buffet hound'. She keeps the moles in check in the yard, and is NOT afraid to stick her FULL head down in to any hole she has dug...snorting...coming out all muddy and smiling.~

I saw that Roxy was very gingerly pulling something out of the wood pile...daintily with her front teeth.
She then turned around slowly---like a kid who THINKS you are NOT watching them as they steal the last cookie off the plate---and she went galloping off across the yard.

I thought she had a stick...but I walked after her to make sure.
(Yes, I walked...I was tired and had been sporting my saucy leopard galoshes all day---with my jeans tucked IN to them because I was cleaning out snake habitats...my 15 year old fashionista daughter just rolled her eyes at me.)

As I finally reached her, Roxy looked at me sideways, keeping her head down...hands across 'whatever' she had.
(If she could whistle, should would have.)

That's when I realized...ICK...she had a mouse.
Poor 'Mrs. Tittlemouse' had already lost her ears, and feet, and Roxy was eating the tail like it was a piece of tasty licorice.

'ROXY THAT IS SO GROSS!' I told her...she did not care.
She picked up her mouse and trotted to a leaf pile...nestled in, and continued with her 'treat'.

I thought about getting it away from her...yes, I did.
However, knowing that she loves the 'I-have-something-gross-in-my-mouth-and-you-can't-catch-me' game...I just let her be.

I went back to gathering my tools...all the while imagining what Roxy was thinking.

'Hmmm...I enjoy the 'al dente' feel of the ears and feet....the tail...a bit chewy...but OK. Oh, look! A surprise inside---a burst of freshness...delightful!'

(After a few minutes, I noticed my enchanting hound rolling on her back on top of 'Mrs. Tittlemouse'...or....what was left of her...)

'Ahh...yes. If...I...could...just...squeeze out this...last...bit...here...I can create my own enjoyable scent...to share with my mom....and---if all goes well tonight---by the morning time? FRESH rawhide!...I am a GENIUS!'
Yeah.
I left her outside for a bit....
It figures that I, as an artist and thrifty gal in general, would have a creative dog.
I love my dog....I love my dog...I love my dog....