Auntiemwrites Crime-Mystery Author M K Graff

When Annie Lennox wrote ( and sang) that song, she knew that love was at the heart of what drive us as humans.

A recent article in “Real Simple” magazine had answers for their monthly question: “What is the best thing money can’t buy?”

Here are some of the answers from across the nation:

“A husband who truly listens.”

“When my teen son walked across a room just to give me a loving hug.”

“An unexpected apology from an old friend.”

“The unconditional love of our dogs.”

“Solitude.”

“Being born to parents who really loved their children”

The winner was Jennifer Lewis Meyer: “The kind of gut-busting, tears-streaming-down-your-face, bordering-on-hysteria laughter that still makes you giggle when you think of it days later.

Auntie M could identify with Meyer.  I’m getting ready to leave for Utah next week for my yearly meeting with the four other women who keep me writing and keep me sane, the Screw Iowa Writers Group.  I expect there will be long discussions about the nature of our book and our website, hours of editing and advising each other on our manuscripts, great food, a bit of wine, and most importantly, that kind of stress-releasing laughter. That’s us on the back left of the desk in the photo below.

When you read this, I will be in Utah that these women whose friendship I savor and depend on.

The article made me think of those special moments that we capture in our hearts: the days our children were born, proposals, loving moments from partner, etc.  We would all rate those high.  And the love of a good pet, too!  And then there are the unexpected moments that catch us off guard, but that we treasure and revisit in our memories, like snapshots.

Here’s one of mine:  Auntie M’s granddaughter, Rachel Elizabeth, at 6 years old, getting ready to go upstairs to bed at our house after a wonderful Christmas.  She stopped at the bottom of the stairs with her dad, turned her beaming smile on me and pronounced, “Nana, you’re the BEST!”

OK readers:  We know who you love, but what’s one outstanding memory money couldn’t buy?

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I’ve been Depped.  RUN to the nearest store that carries Vanity Fair mag and splurge on the current issue.

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Depp must be the winner of “most mag covers” but it was the interior shots and article itself which attracted Auntie M.

Shots of Depp in Cuba, prepping for his next movie role as a youthful Hunter S. Thompson, stretch across several pages.  Big sigh.  Story of Depp and a few friends relaxing for a week before on his boat and at his private Bahamian Island.

Who knew the various beaches on his small cay are named for his children and partner?

Douglas Brinkley, a Thompson compatriot and author, reveals the Depp we really want to see: relaxed, without paparazzi, shirtless (another BIG SIGH–sorry, a wait while I wipe that bit of drool).  Who knew music was so important to Depp that he uses it as a kind of choreography, to keep a mood or to inspire one?  The story of the Keith Richards covers he listens to at one point is worth reading the article for alone.

Yes, most of us who enjoy Depp for his many attributes probably know he is a world class guitarist.  And yes, we probably knew of his deep and total devotion to his roles and his ability to inhabit his characters.  That’s one of the reasons we love him.  So we want to hear it all from the perspective of a man who is heavily involved in this next movie, the man who carried out Thompson’s wishes to be cremated and shot into space (!).

We all have our favorite Depp roles, those that amuse us, make our hearts beat faster, or show us the depth and range of this amazingly talented (and deliciously sexy) man.

Who can resist?

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Not being able to have our usual garden this year, Eco Lassie has been following the garden exploits of the rest of you with great interest.  And that led to  remembering the time we had keeping our pets out of ours in previous years.

There’s no question we love our pets and also no question that even the cutest of cats and dogs can trample, dig, crush, tear and leave their little presents in our nice rows of fresh veggies and flowers.  What to do that doesn’t mean using the very kind of commercial repellent we’ve been trying to avoid?

* Try soaking cotton balls in citrus (or mint or menthol) essential oils and place around the garden perimeter.  Many pets are repelled by these scents.  You may have to change the balls weekly or after a heavy rain until your pet figures out the garden is a no-go area.

*Use rose prunings, if you have them, around the base of larger established plants.  Paws, especially those sensitive cat pads, will not relish these thorny clippings and quickly find a new pathway.

*The visual image of a barrier works wonders for cats and dogs.  Try using floating row covers, which some of you may already by using to prevent insects and birds from feasting on those tasty shoots of budding plants and flowers.  Planet Natural has the most reasonable I could find, at $10.50 for 5′ X 25′–and you can water and fertilize right through this light, breathable barrier without removing it.

Of course, there ARE some benefits to having our pets near our gardens.   Cats will reduce the amount of mice, voles and moles if they are in your area; dogs scent and barking will keep deer and groundhogs at bay, or at the very least, in your neighbor’s yard!

Happy Gardening~

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One of Auntie M’s favorite spring things is the birds that live here.  I enjoy watching birds in nature, although I would never want one in a cage in my house, but love to see them flying and feeding their babies.  I filled the hummingbird feeders two days ago and saw they were already empty today.

Right now we have blue birds nesting along with the chatty purple martins in their apartment houses, pilated woodpeckers with their unusual crest pecking away at a high pine tree, and jaunty red-winged blackbirds eating out of our feeder.   The cardinals are here and there, and the quail, too.

But the ducks, Fred and Ethel, ,who live on our pond and frequent our walkway along the river are the bane of our Spinone Radar’s existence.   A true bird hound, he lives to point and skulk up to them, then burst upon them, scaring them into the river.  He will dart into the river and swim them far away from our dock.  NO duck poop allowed here, says the balloon over his head.

On occasion a second male we call Desi will join them, the trio waddling along the concrete cap on our bulkheading, Fred squawking whenever Desi gets too close to Ethel.   This was the original menage a  trois.

Today Radar was slumbering peacefully on our porch when the high alert came on.  I was folding wash and watching him as he picked up his head, his large nose and flews going in and out as the duck scent reached him.  He wheeled his head around and stood at attention, which quickly became a point.  But today he, well, he moaned. Which quickly became a low hound howl.

I went onto the porch to see the cause of his distress.  There in all her glory was Ethel, proudly waddling along the bulkheading with Fred, along with–not just Desi, but three MORE new males, all lined up and following her placidly.  She honked repeatedly, cussing them out she looked over her shoulder and their line faltered.

How she attracted these males–all widowers?– is a mystery.  Of course, Radar slunk down the stairs and interrupted their promenade, sending all six ducks into the river, and followed that up by swimming them down to a neighbor’s dock.  Where she is probably sunning herself now, surrounded by the glory of all of that male attention.

Guess I’ll have to come up with three more male names.

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