California 1991

This is a picture of me with my Aunt Lilia. I am riding her horse Grizelda.  I was about  5 I think. 

I was just speaking to my dad and he mentioned that my Uncle Richard reads this blog... "You should take it as a huge compliment that he likes it, he is very critical when it comes to writing"  erm...Thanks?

When I was eleven my parents were having some marital issues. My mom wanted to spend some quality time with my dad and needed to get rid of me for the summer. My Aunt Lilia and Uncle Richard lived in California and so they agreed to take me on for a month. They had no children of their own and were very "free spirited" intellectuals living on a small farmette.

My mom came with me for a week I think... and I remember her saying that she was going somewhere with Uncle Richard...

An hour went by... and then my Aunt Lilia came over and told me that my mom went home and that she would be taking care of me. "I was to go into the guest house and stay in there for an hour and find a way to entertain myself, she was not my babysitter, I was a big girl now" Oh shit... this is going to suck I thought.

Clearly this woman didn't know much about kids.... I was in shock. With that, I grew up....
I stopped whining, needing things, and complaining was ignored.

My Aunt Lilia is a very beautiful exotic lady.... My memories of her are blurry, but I do remember her walking around in white skinny jeans and a loose blouse and tennis shoes. She could groom a horse and come out covered in hair and muck... she would disappear into her quarters and come out as if she just stepped out of Sax Fifth.

She smoked, drank, and spoke 3 languages. I was best at understanding French... so I later studied it in school and failed it. She spoke Dutch and maybe German? She liked to call people "pigs" which I found very amusing.  She is super tiny, but very authoritative. She had a horse named Grizelda, two goats, Virtue and Violet, twelve cats, and a duck. She dislikes children... but I do remember her asking me to stay for another month. I believe she liked me. She also was an amazing rider, she learned how to ride in Persia...(Iran?) on some pretty nice horses I have been told. And... she really liked my Uncle... you couldnt find a stranger looking pair. They are best friends.

My Uncle named me "Lizard"... (this is where my blog name comes from). He has a funny accent even though he was born in Princeton NJ, has a long beard like Santa Clause and sells hard to find books.

 I remember that it was strange that he and Aunt Lilia had separate bedrooms. When I inquired about this I think the answer was that Uncle Richard had the Jimmy legs and snored? I remember his quarters being a complete mess, as well as his car which was named "Beauty" a horrible looking station wagon that was covered in cigarette ash and other "things".  I don't ever remember him taking much notice of me, but when he did it would always start with "Oh little Lizard" in the fondest voice that he could muster.... I think he liked me too!

I have an image of him dressed in slacks, oxford shoes, and a loose cotton button down shirt holding a pitchfork picking up horse manure out in the field. This was his chore. I thought it strange that he didn't dress as a farmer... he wore his business clothes to shovel crap. Such a strange fellow.... the last time I saw him was a few years back. He was staying at the Four Seasons and I stopped in for brunch with him and my father. He ordered Beef Tar Tar even though it wasnt on the menu. "Well it's not hard to make!" He told the waiter... as if he were a moron. I didn't even know what " Tar Tar " meant...I learned that day that my uncle was going to eat Raw Beef... I was horrified... and in awe all at the same time.

Anyway,  back to me at eleven... I liked the goats. I decided that I was going to wake up at 7 am and it was my job to rake the goat pellets off the table and feed them hay. I loved the responsibility. I felt like a little orphan farm girl. I loved having chores even though I wasn't asked to help, I wanted to do something.

One day someone dropped a box of kittens off at the base of the road. "Oh shit, more cats! " I was excited... but not Aunt Lilia, some shithead kept dropping off kittens knowing that she would take them in. They had worms, and eye infections. The vet came out and gave them some wormer and some yellow eye cream to put in their eyes. I took this job over happily. I loved caring for the kittens. The smallest one I named "Reject" . I loved her the most. She would follow me everywhere. She was my first animal friend. It turns out the reject became the alpha female of the group... Her name became... ironic.

I learned a lot that summer. I learned the anatomy of a horse, and how to ride. I learned how to care for animals especially horses, goats and cats... (now you know my obsession)  I learned how to occupy my time and take care of my own problems.

It was one of the best summers of my life. Sometimes those without kids are the best parents.