Sometimes I think....

That when a child thinks they need more space from you, once in a while what they really need is more of you.


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Introducing Murray

This is Murray, our new dog. After we put down our beloved Mickey (see earlier post), we welcomed him into our home and hearts. He is a 'ShiCon', possessing his own unique, and funny personality. He is for the most part, oblivious to everything around him, focusing only on his own need for play and attention. We now pretty much live in 'his world'!

Yesterday was not the best day for Murray....It was his turn to do what we ask of all our canine and feline family members....get neutered or spayed. It is in our opinion, the responsible thing to do, so that we do not add to the population of our community's animal shelters, many whom face certain death.

Murray made us proud. He was a real 'man' about it, and came through remarkable well, albeit a bit sore.

This got me thinking about the whole idea of neutering males. Really it isn't such a bad idea! How well do you think Murray's human counterparts would recover from such an operation? Considering that the common cold can keep some of them complaining for days on end, and that the process of birth was never even a consideration!

Back to the idea of human neutering...It would help to solve the number of fatherless children, families on welfare, the court's voluminous cases of unpaid child support.....the list here is endless!

Also, there is something I could ponder over endlessly, if neutering male canines lends them to wonder off less, following the 'scent of a woman', would that be true of men as well? Ahhhh....woman the world over be jumping all over it! 'My cheating husband, fixed forever'!

Think how many marriages could be saved! Of course men have been having vasectomies for eons, but that does nothing to curb their desire to hunt for the female.

Please know that I am not a man hating woman, I just got to thinking !!!

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WTF?!!?

Krispy Kreme bacon cheeseburger

Ugh !!

My knees

Nope, this blog isn't really about popcorn, although I do love it, and can't imagine going to the movies without a bag of lightly buttered popcorn and a nice diet soda!

Popcorn is great, and I have fond memories of going to the Drive- In as a child and "getting to go" to the concession stand alone ,or with a friend! Memories of watching shows on TV that were shown only once a year....Cinderella with Leslie Ann Warren,It's a Wonderful Life, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, The Wizard of Oz....all were special events and homemade popcorn was the crown jewel that always accompanied these special evenings.

Memories...good ones...

Not long ago I was having a troubled evening with my now teenage son. He had gone up to bed, but my instincs told me he was up to something. My room is on the main floor, and his upstairs. So slowly I crept up the stairs in the quiet still of the night, my detective gear in full mode. But my knees....shit, they sounded like a bag of microwave popcorn on high! Pop....crack..crack... pop, pop, pop....

When the hell did that happen to me? Hey, I can still do a stair case; several times over....no problem! But what's up with all that noise and popping sounds?

Someone who doesn't know me well, might just mistake me for a women who might be nearing the dreaded "MA" (middle age). They would be, as I said, very mistaken! Still I can pull downed trees from the creek, carry 50 lb. salt bags downstairs to the water softner (okay, sometimes I tumble them down the stairs, but still I lift them to my car from the store, and lift them out of the car at home, and lift them into the tank!).

While gardening kneeling is part of the deal (even if I do get "stiff" sometimes), but I get down and low, plant, weed, water, fertilize. I cut dead branches from my 2+ acres, so what the hell is a little bit of popping knees? Only if they weren't so dreadfully loud!

Maybe the MA is creeping upon me, but hey, I've always been young at heart, and don't plan on changing that anytime soon.

I just need new ammunition for checking out what my son's doing, 'cause the ole knees are gonna give me away!

One thing, then another.....

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這是語言是

在我的博客！

這是我駕駛wacko。

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Somehow tonight when I went to post a new blog, I must have hit a key by accident. and my whole "homepage" looked like what you see above.

Of course I don't read whatever language that is (although I did write that little diddo), and I couldn't get anywhere. How do you click the "help" button when the characters are not even anything recognizable?

So...I clicked everything!!! Obviously this kind of frustration is not conductive to letting

your inner creative juices flowing....basically I was getting quite pissed off.

Then the dogs needed to go out, the were yelping (sort of, or maybe I just needed a breather), so out we went. Well the the guy who cuts my front yard was here today and pulled out the stake to which I tether our new puppy. So I went to screw it back into the dirt. Cut myself... In the house I go to retrieve a band aide which I keep in my walk in closet. After grabbing one I went to turn off the light, and my belt rack / jewelry organizer fell. Little teeny weenie things (and belts) all over the place, inside purses, shoes, and the like. So I spent a few minutes cleaning that up, but not completely. That kind of chore is never really done, is it?! Somehow you keep finding little surprises for months on end!

Now I hear the dogs (Girlie really, our 6 1/2 female Maltese) barking frantically out front. Our new "puppy" Murray, is having his way with her, and she is none too happy about it. Poor girl, she was a virgin, but Murray took the V card from her, for forever!

Okay, I know I was doing something, what in the hell was it? Went and got a cold glass of ice water and a a glass of wine. When I went to crack the ice tray (ice machine is broken), the freezer door started to slowly close, and about 1/4 of the ice fell to the floor. Shut the door and now I have nice, cold water!

What's that noise? Following the sound I find my son's rat, Cliffton, digging at the new bedding in his clean cage. It's in scatters surrounding his around his "little area", which is in the great room "so he has socialization". Turn around...just turn around now and you never really saw that, tomorrow it will still be there....go on now Marty, go on.

Oh yeah, I had poured cold ice water and a glass of wine, sounds good, especially now! Grab them both to go try to remember what it was I was doing to begin with. I was doing something, right?

Water. Water all over the floor by the fridge and into the carpeting on the hallway. Ice cubes melt, you know. Crap. Rags, get the damn rags! Clean up that mess, take my two glasses into my bedroom retreat. Don't ya know it, the damn mongrels have to go again!

While outside as they are doing their business, I remember about the blog and those Chinese or Japanese characters that infiltrated my blog, and plot out my plan of attack.

So here I am, got that shit 外圍所有整理出來！(figured out and fixed). But what the hell was I going to write about in the first place? It probably doesn't really matter, because this was worth writing about anyway. Do you have days like this too?? In the end it just matters that we can laugh at ourselves, after all, like I said before, that rat bedding is still going to be there in the morning, but I might not be laughing then. : 0

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...and then I cried!

For a couple of years now I've been thinking of buying a convertible, it's something that I've wanted for a long time. For the most part I am a practical person, and a two seat convertible roadster is about as far opposite as practice as you can get!

However, for the past two or three springs or beautiful fall days when I would see a nice convertible traveling along, with the driver seemingly as happy and content as can be, I could feel my skin changing from it's natural blotchy tannish color to a mean & envious green. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the vehicle I had. It didn't have many miles on it, wasn't very old, but I couldn't let it rip ~ put the top down and just let 'er go!

So early winter of '07 my research on convertibles became somewhat serious. I was all over the Internet, comparing all of the different classes of convertibles, looking at prices & packages and spending way too much time on what felt more like a computer hobby than actual research.

Then one day my son and I were out doing errands and across the street from the farm supply store was a Nissan dealership. With extra time on our hands, we ventured over, and next thing we know we are driving east on 35 in a red 2008 Nissan 350Z! While I didn't think it was the car for me, my thirst was becoming somewhat clinched!

Back to the computer I went.....then back on the road at every chance I got to go look at models. A few more test drives.....getting better. Then I saw her! A "Monaco" blue 2008 BMW Z4 with beige leather interior and a beige soft top. I had hearts floating out of me like you see in a cartoon....she was beautiful! I took her for a spin. Shit, I was really thirsty now! But, like I had been taught, I didn't let on to the sales gal who was hovering over me that I wanted to explode and write a check right there and then! I went home.

It rained, and rained, and rained.... Who the hell wants to buy a convertible in the dead of winter or when it is pouring rain for days on end? Then the rain stopped. Got on the dealership's website, she was still there, now center of the showroom! A shining beautiful star!

Fast forward.... I drove her home on May 21st, in a bit of a mist....but the search was over and my thirst was quenched! She only came out when there wasn't a chance of rain. I bought a duster and kept her free of dust daily. One happy girl was I !

Three days after the temporary tags came off of her I took my son to the pool and hooked up with my friend Missy. After a few hours of talking and sunning, we were done for the day. We hugged and I said goodbye to her and to her daughter Paige. I got in my darling, started her up, backed her up, and CRUNCH!

I put my head down on the steering wheel and couldn't even get out. Missy came from across the parking lot, my head still down. I asked her to tell me it wasn't bad. She said it wasn't really all that bad, but it wasn't really good. At least I think that's what she said. I was shaking. I got out, and then, ....and then I cried.

I called the police, shaking, went in to call for the owner of the vehicle I a had backed into. Debra. Debra was nice, really nice. Still crying. She didn't want to even report the scratch I had added the the other scratches and missing lights her kids had caused. Love marks, maybe? Thanks Debra, I'll try to pay that one forward.

Well, you know the rest....called my insurance company, blah..blah, blah.....

Lessons learned:

1. There are some really nice and understanding people out there (thanks Debra, again)

2. Missy is a really good friend (but I knew that already, multiple times over!). She stayed and filled out the forms for me as my hands were shaking too much! She and Paige were just there for me, and I am sorry for all the curse words that Paige may have heard.

3. That no one, not my Mom or my Dad, or anyone else was going to kill me. That was ironically my first instinct: "Shit I am gonna get it now!" Although I wish they were around to "Give it to me"! (I miss them, even that part!)

4. How lucky I am that no one was hurt.

5. That my beautiful blue shining star is just a car. Nothing more and nothing else.

And finally:

6. Maybe God decided to knock my high faluting ass down just a notch, especially now that my Mother and Father aren't here anymore to do that for Him.

If number six is right, it worked. Thanks, God

Six good lessons learned for the low low price of a $500.00 deductible. Not bad at all.

Bills

Bills are somewhere at the top of things that are necessary to do, but there is no enjoyment in the process. Kinda along the lines of buying new bras. You need them, but the act of doing it just seems like a real time waster. Maybe that's why most of my bras are in dire need of replacement. (Besides the fact that I am single, and it's been way too long since anyone (a man) has seen them, so really there isn't much incentive, is there?)

The thing with bills though, is that you have to do it every month, and even when you're done paying them, there's a evil twist: you really aren't done at all. You just have to go to the mailbox and there will be another one waiting one you, so the process never really ends. That's just cruel!

Bills are a little bit easier now to pay through the Internet though, yet there is another glitch there too. Passwords. I have so many different passwords that I need a file cabinet to remember them all. Speaking of file cabinets, filing is at the top level along with paying bills and buying bras of annoying things to do. One of my first jobs was to do the filing at my father's car agency. I hated it then, and still do. I didn't last long at that job, I was way better at answering the phone. (Always did love "communicating!") It is nice though to be able to find something when you need it. So filing feels does seem satisfying to me once it's done, I suppose.

It would be idealistic to have a part time assistant to pay my bills, file my papers, and keep everything relevant to taxes organized, for me to give to my accountant. Guess I'll think about that later, but for now I have bills to pay and just a little bit of filing to do.

Dogs

Dogs are definitely one of my favorite things. Some dogs, like our dog Mickey, are put here on earth I think for only one reason: to make us happy! They love their owners with true devotion, welcome you home like you are the Queen or King of an important empire, and look at you with affection as if you are the premier of all species , ever !

Mickey came into my life on Saturday June 13th of 1992. Our dog of 10 years, Wyon, had died suddenly the Saturday before, and I was suffering in a dogless world, and mourning my 'ole friend.

Although I loved Wyon for all he was, I decided that the pain of losing him was so worth the 10 years of joy he gave me. He was however, a mutt (a great "breed"!), but he got much bigger than was anticipated, and his coat shed 12 months of the year. I decided that our (the "Former" and me) next dog would be somewhat smaller, so that it's wagging tail wouldn't wipe the contents of the coffee table clean, and would shed very little or not at all. After going through the books of dog breeds, and searching the St. Louis Post classified section for an entire 6 whole days, a Westie we named Mickey was found.

I don't know about you, but once you actually get in the car and drive to a breeder's home filled with anticipation, it's all but impossible to come home dogless! So that's how Mickey and I met. We had 16 1/2 wonderful years together. He went with us to the houseboat in Kentucky frequently where he had a doggie life vest, and in our own pool, he loved to get on a raft and float around.

When our only child was born, Mickey watched over him like a momma bird with her chicks. He put up with a crawling toddler, his tail being tugged and pulled, and never once showed teeth. Although I never did, I probably could have left the baby with Mickey as to run to the store with full assurance that all would be fine upon my return.

As the toddler became a little boy, Mickey became his best pal and older "brother", as he was called. As the years went by they were always side by side.

So when Mickey grew so old that his joints were stiff, his stomach touchy (had to get "senior" mega expensive dog food), lost his hearing and sight in one eye, we continued to love him , made up our own dog sign language, and caredfor him gingerly. He developed tumors of the hair follicles, which were so visually offensive and bled often, yet we loved him even more.

Vet visits were frequent and costly. Then the tumors really took over and would not heal and the vet said perhaps it was time to say goodbye to our beloved Mickey. I had seen it coming for about 6 months, but when Dr. Raab actually said it, I knew it was time. That was a Friday, and we set the appointment for the following Friday. Bad week, a really bad week.

So the little boy, who is now a teenager, and I went to Dr. Raab's at 2:oo on Friday, May 30th. It was all terribly sad as you can imagine. it was time to say good bye to a part of our family. I'll save the details to spare you....

Even though we had acquired another dog along the way, "Girlie Girl", whom we love dearly, the house still seemed so empty when we came home. It stayed that way too. A huge part of us was now gone and the emptiness was terribly saddening.

Of course I have the perspective that he was "only a dog". Both of my parents are gone now, as is my older brother. However, Mickey was there for me for all of those losses, and he licked the salted tears from my cheeks and sat by my side silently but lovingly, as though he knew my heart was broken.

Fast forward...

Next thing you know Murray entered our lives....... He, in his puppy ways, has brought light and life back to the house, but I still miss our sweet, good ole Mickey!

What a great guy he was.

Yeah, dogs are definitely one of my favorite things.

"Formers"

Of course divorce sucks, anyone who's been there would probably agree with that. But one thing that is even more not right, is a former husband. Especially when he lives 600+ miles away, and I am raising our son alone.

Somehow the former husband feels justified in critiquing my parenting skills when he pops into town, (while for the most part he lives a George Clooney~esk lifestyle.... bachelor, traveling the world in the high life......)

Something there is just not right. There is homework to be done, life lessons to be taught, little things a boy needs to learn from a dad.... like how to skewer a worm on a hook for fishin', or how to throw a football....how to skip rocks in the creek, and gettin' his first jock strap. I don't know shit about jock straps of course, but we figured it out, awkward as it was for a little boy sure wishin' his Momma wouldn't ask the grown up men at the sports store all kinds of questions about how to wear them, what sizes they come in for boys, and if they machine washable....poor kid!

Well maybe it isn't all that bad, someday when he's older, and maybe even a dad himself, he'll look back and the truth will be there...in the mean time I have a former husband who is my child's father, and while he can really tick me off....he did one thing that was very right: our son is proof of that. Guess I'll just try harder...he can't help what he doesn't know.

Peonies

Peonies are my number one favorite plant of all time; my love for them began at a defining moment in my life and has proceeded to build in importance continually, and takes me back spiritually to the lovliest place of all....before adulthood, when all my loved ones surrounded me, not still a child yet not quite a reponsible adult.

My first real appreciation of this fine species was when my parents bought a farm in the country in 1979. The first time they took me there I was in awe of all things country: the long, tree lined gravel lane; the creek with an ole wooden bridge, the open grasses that would later lead Mac (a quarter horse)and me over the river and thru the woods....

But the beauty I found most profound that day were the Peony "bushes" in full bloom! At that moment a love affair began that continues to this day.

Peonies will always send me to such a beautiful, serene moment in time.

Nothing else in nature can compare to their aroma that sucks me in like a butterfly to pollen. The blooms, no matter what variety they are, are the most glorious works of art that only the Master would be capable of creating.

How ironic then it is, that Mother Nature provides both the Peony's best advocate and it's most horrific enemy in one source: rain!

But isn't that the way life is as well? The ones you love the most can bring the greatest pain you'll ever know. However if we never loved at all, we wouldn't know that kind of pain.

When I see the beautiful Peonies in late spring I think of all things wonderful, past and present and dwell happily.

The Peonies after a hard rain bring to me reflection that all beauty does not last forever and must be appreciated at that moment, and treasured forever.