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Sispatches from Vermont: "For Andrew, Love Mom"

Hi, I'm Marie, better known as "Andrew's sister" around here.  I think you can probably imagine why. Andrew himself calls me, you guessed it, "Sis" or Sissef, actually which resulted from his response to me calling him Brosef. It's just the two of us siblings in our family, and I'm nearly ten years older than him, although I certainly don't act like it most of the time. I've also never blogged before, but if you ask my mother, I have plenty to say, so I'm going to take the opportunity to share a little bit of my ramblings on a monthly basis. I'm calling it Sis-patches from Vermont (GET IT?!).

This is a story about the early origins of Andy's Dandys and a mother's love for her son.

Years ago my mom came to the family with this crazy idea. "You know how Andrew always loves testing out recipes with me in the kitchen? You know how he adores Rosie? Well, what if we started a dog treat company?!" I think we all probably stared blankly at her for a good ten seconds and then went about our business doing whatever we'd been doing prior. A dog treat company? It's true that Andrew loved testing out recipes with her in the kitchen. They'd gone on several baking kicks that involved very fancy and delicious cupcakes, to the benefit and sheer delight of everyone in the family. And it's true that Rosie, our family dog at the time, seemed to view Andrew as her master more than anyone else in the family.  He gave her tons of love and attention, and well, we all know how dogs are. But: a dog treat company? Really? Still, my mother was determined. BOY was she determined. And a determined mother is a force not to be reckoned with; I have come to understand this since having two children of my own.

In a matter of weeks, she and Andrew had turned our family's home kitchen into a full time dog biscuit recipe laboratory. It constantly smelled of baking dog biscuits. Dog biscuit ingredients were stacked in bins in her sewing room, which had been completely overtaken by the endeavor.  Bins stacked high with dry ingredients on one side of the room, more bins stacked high with baked treats on the other side of the room. My poor father would occasionally try to navigate his way to the closet to retrieve wrapping paper or some other odds and ends, only to return moments later emptyhanded having abandoned his mission due to the "barricade of dog biscuits."  Rosie, on the other hand, was ecstatic.

I wasn't living there at the time

It all sounds funny now looking back, but as I've grown into an adult and a mother myself, I recognize that fierce determination to build something good for your child. For my mother, it was beyond determination, it was a truth she held above all else: she was going to build this business for Andrew. That was what was going to happen.