The good and the bad of it all

The good

  • we got to walk
  • Max got to play with Keno
  • I got the bathrooms cleaned
  • I read two chapters of my Finance book
  • macaroni salad!
  • Bob and Paul might be coming for a visit!
  • we have three tomatoes on the cherry tomato plant
  • blossoms on the rose bush
  • the weather was great – porch sitting was enabled
  • got a short nap

 

The bad

  • I’m sore
  • I’m tired of being sore
  • I’m tired

And so it appears that the good far outweighed the bad today

So why do I give the bad stuff so much power?

Bob was laughing at me when I was making Bear’s lunch, I told him I’m a good little wife.  He said, “yes, you are.”  I said, “it took me a long time to be a wife, I’m not about to screw it up!”  Later, when Max and I were out for a ride, I started crying from the sheer joy of my life – I have the husband I never thought I deserved – a wonderful man, who treats me like a princess, a beautiful home, and a dog who is pure joy, (when he isn’t driving me nuts!)  I am blessed.

So piffle on the twinges and aches and pains.  I refuse to let them rule my life any more.   🙂

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Memorial Day

So many memories attached to this day.  At 3:00 or so, Bear and I went out to have lunch at the Legion.  As we passed the cemetery, I said to him, “About this time, Mother would be saying, ‘let’s go cemetery hopping!’ and we’d get in the car and head out.”   Every year, the Sunday before Memorial Day, we went cemetery hopping, to see who put flowers out (and who didn’t) and to comment on the quantity and quality of the wreaths.  We had to make sure we got to the Ghent Cemetery before the VFW so we could put our own flag on Poppa’s grave, leaving no room for theirs.   (They weren’t there for his funeral, and Mother held a grudge like no one before or since.)

On Monday, there was the parade.  We got to see it twice, as it went to the cemetery and then when it meandered back to the Legion.  Then a cook out  – hot dogs, hamburgers, the usual.   Kids, dogs, family.   We usually ended up in the garage because it almost always rained. 

Today was my sister’s birthday.  She left us way too soon, and I miss her – she could always make me laugh, when she wasn’t happily pissing me off.  I loved her so much – I hope she knew that.  She promised me she would never go anywhere without me – nowhere I couldn’t go – so I guess I’m gonna go to Heaven, cuz I know for sure she’s helping the angels watch over me now. 

 

 

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Ouch

ImageThis smoosh face – hard to believe he could whip me around and yank me so out of joint that I’m hurting badly and can’t wait till wednesday when I have an appointment with the chiro.

This is the same smoosh face who was playing bitey face with Mom the other day, when I noticed something very strange on one of his back teeth.  PANIC!   Bear said he thought it was an abscessed tooth but ………….. it’s May…………..and May means scary things that hurt my heart and the people (and dogs) I love.   So I cried.  And talked to Mother about it.

Bear took Max for a ride and I went up to clean.  When I moved some papers on his sink – a penny fell out.  Hmmmm.  I called Bear.  Nope, he didn’t have any pennies on the sink.  🙂  Thank you, Mother.

Sunday morning, I get up and take Max out and check out the thing in his mouth.

There was nothing there.

Thank you, Mother.

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Spring!

I never thought much about gardening.   My mother had planted flowers in the back yard, there were yew bushes in the front, and roses beside the porch, Rose of Sharon in the back yard and phlox (graveyard flower, Mother called it).  We never weeded, we never pruned, she didn’t do much beyond pick the sweet peas when they flowered, and the peonies that my father loved (and I hated).   She had a wigalia that she loved, and babied, and some bleeding hearts that a friend gave her.  There were lilies of the valley along the side of the house – my favorites, next to the roses.  

When Mother died, and the house had to be sold, I wanted to bring the plants with me.  It didn’t happen.  I moved in December, and plants can’t be dug up and replanted in Winter.   It was one of many sadnesses. 

That first Spring, Bear suggested I plant something along the sidewalk.  So off I went to the nursery, and came home with vincas – for no other reason than they were pretty.   He dug the holes, I stuck them in, and watered them.  He wanted tomato plants, so once again, off I went and got some, we planted those and watered them daily, too. 

And they grew.  And my heart healed just a little.   I watched them go from tiny little green things to big, blooming, tall, beautiful tomato plants, and gorgeous flowers.   How had I missed this all these years? 

We moved into the house and it was too late to do much that first year.  But oh, the next year!  And the year after, and the year after!   We have perennials!  We have Gerbera Daisies that are in bloom, right now!  I planted them two years ago, and they have flowers and I am delighted!  

Last year, I decided to tackle the front bank.  It’s really steep, and it’s been a very difficult section to mow because it’s so steep.   There’s a pipe sticking out of the middle, some drainage thing, and it’s pretty much in full sun.  I spent hours weeding, and transplanting clumps of Snow on the Mountain, and Dead Nettle.  It did okay last year.  Bear said that he read that things take root and in the Spring they spread.  Holy cow!    Did they ever!    It was a few weeks till I could get out there and get the weeds pulled, and there’s still a bit to do, but since I cleared most of it, the greenery has spread like crazy! 

I planted impatiens for color.  And now Bear wants to make it even bigger!  

In the process, there has been healing.  And growing.  In my heart and soul.  With every flower, this is more our home.  Every plant and every flower.  

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The whirlwind begins…………

And I love it!   The last final was tonight, and all that’s left is to grade the exams and get them all entered online.   One whole glorious week off – to prep for the next class, and plant flowers, and cook real meals and clean, and visit Anna, and play with Max.  We can walk and visit the neighbors and visit other friends – what a wonderful word that is, “friends!”

 

It’s a long process making friends.  I’ve lived here for almost 10 years now, and I have just a few close friends.  That’s partly my fault, I don’t trust easily.  But oh, Max!  You have taken me out of myself and gotten me to places I never would have gone alone!   And in the going, I’ve met the few I consider close friends.  You brought me to Anna.   Literally, you took me to her room, week after week, as if you knew that was a place we were meant to be.  

So next week, we’ll plant the garden, and weed the bank, and ache all over every night!  Long tub soaks, long naps, books read on the front porch, I can’t wait!  In another week, it’s back to work – to a class I don’t really want, but I’ll make the best of it.  Hopefully, we’ll have some fun – and it’s only 6 weeks!   And only twice a week!   So much time for the stuff I really want to do.  🙂

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May

Every year since Betty died, May has been a month of sadness.   Her birthday is May 27th, and she didn’t get to celebrate it for near enough years.   I miss her.  She was my favorite sister, the one who drove me crazy, the one I always knew, no matter what, that she was my best friend, and would always have my back.  I still cry, I still grieve, I still have difficulty accepting that she’s gone  – that I can’t pick up the phone and call her and talk about nothing for as long as it took.   I’ve forgiven her, for the most part, for breaking a promise – she was never going to go anywhere that I couldn’t come along, but she did.  She left me, left me here to deal with the other sisters, to mourn her loss, to miss her every day.

Poppa died five years later.  His heart was broken and he never recovered – Betty was his favorite.  He loved us all, but she held a special place in his heart.   He died in May.   Two days before Mother’s birthday, he left us.  His funeral was on her birthday – she said he made sure the family came together to celebrate.

May breaks my heart, every year.

 

 

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My mind wanders

It’s Monday – actually it’s Tuesday but since I haven’t been to bed yet, it still feels like Monday to me.  Long days, Mondays.  I am not a morning person, not by any means.  Getting up at 7 a.m. is brutal for me.   Mondays and Wednesdays, I get up at 7, to be at school by 9:30, to teach students who are no more awake than I am.   It’s not my idea of a good time.

Two more early mornings and then I’m done with that till Fall.  Happy happy joy joy

 

Max and I took a walk tonight when I got home from work.  He had been inside all day, and he was quite filled with energy.  It was quite the brisk walk.   Then we did laundry and ran errands and made supper and he’s asleep – and I’m still awake, but barely.  

I sat at the kitchen table on Saturday, reading my Finance text book. drinking a cup of tea, looking out the back door towards the field.   There’s some candy cane phlox on the bank – it appeared from nowhere last year and returned with a sort of “surprise!  here I am!” this year.   I’m considering covering that whole bank with it.   Anyway.  I was thinking……….as I put off reading Finance……….about when I was 17 and went to college for the first time.  I dreamed of a home of my own, of sitting in my kitchen with a cup of tea and a book, with someone who would love me and cherish me. 

I never really believed in that dream, but I never really stopped believing in it, either.  And it still amazes and astonishes me, every day, that it came true. 

 

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Emmy

This past Monday, one of my friends gave her Golden Retriever, Emmy, the most precious gift she could give.  She sent Emmy to the Rainbow Bridge on Monday afternoon.   Emmy suffered from a rare form of cancer, one that attacked her through her blood.   For a few short weeks, it seemed that she was getting better, that she would beat this demon that hurts so many of our Golden babies. 

Her owner noticed that Emmy’s leg was swelling, the leg where the lump was first found, and removed.   And Emmy was moving a little more slowly, and groaning when she moved, and it was obvious that our prayers for her recovery were not going to be answered with anything but a “no.” 

Her eyes told the story, according to Martha.  As much as Emmy tried to be herself, her eyes showed her pain.  And that pain was more than Martha and her husband could take, more than they could subject Emmy to.   So the difficult decision was made, to send her home, to end her pain, to let her run free at the Bridge.  

I never got to meet her in person.  What I know of Emmy was learned through her mom, who told us stories of Emmy, and her baby brain brother Gambler.   She was a sweetie, she won my heart through all the stories, and her passing has saddened me and many others.  

I look at Max, and sometimes I catch my breath, and worry that this will be his fate.  And selfishly, I pray that I never have to make this decision, that I never have to know the pain that Martha is feeling now.  I will not have the strength to send him from me.   Bear and I have talked of this, and I know he will make the decision, should we ever have to, that he will hold us both, before and after, and be the strong one.  I will simply fall to pieces. 

I dread that day. 

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And now it’s just five

Five more days to get up at the crack of dawn.  And then about a week off, till Summer semester starts.  I am very unprepared for that class, but I’ll fake it and they’ll never know.   I’ve been putting off prepping for it – lots of reasons – partly because procrastination is my best trick, partly because I’m kinda busy with end of semester stuff.  Note to self – do NOT wait till the last minute to start writing the exams. 

End of semester equals end of patience.  I had to lay it down in today’s class, “stop talking constantly, you’re distracting everyone, and if I see you texting one more time – just give me the phone now” 

It’s the time of year when I rethink my career choice.  Do I really want to continue teaching?   I’m too old to change careers now, so I’ll muddle through.  

I’m so looking forward to time off.   I want to work on the garden, make some progress with the organ, spend time with Max and Bear.   Catch up on my reading, my crafts.  It will go so fast, but I’m determined to enjoy it all – while it happens – and worry about the future in the future. 

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I should not have been born

My name is Max

I am a Golden Retriever

The lady who owned my parents knew nothing about “clearances” or “being a reputable breeder” or that she was being irresponsible by allowing my birth.

She was a nice lady, as far as I remember.   She didn’t know anything about K9Data.  She didn’t know that my mom and dad were way bigger than Golden Retrievers are supposed to be.   Or that they were way curlier than was acceptable.   She didn’t know about these “breed standards” that she was supposed to go by.  She just wanted to sell some puppies to families who would love them.   She wasn’t doing it for any other reason.

My human mom tells me often about the day she first met me.   She says I climbed up in her lap and put my head on her shoulder and that was that, she and my human dad signed some papers and gave the lady and her son some money and then a week later, they came and got me and took me to this big house that’s my home now.   She tells me that she was really lonely and really sad a lot, that her family had turned their backs on her, and that when she got me, her world opened up and things got a lot better for her.  She tells me all the time how much she loves me, and she takes me lots of places and she gives me good food and treats, and she takes me to the vet when I’m sick or when she thinks I might be.   She buys me LOTS of toys, too.

I love my life.   Mom says that Golden Retrievers get some bad diseases some times and she hopes I don’t get them, and that I live a long long time.   She says that the lady who owned my mom  didn’t worry about maybe passing on some bad genes and stuff to me, but she says I shouldn’t worry because all my family has been healthy for a long time.

Still, she doesn’t have a lot of money and when she got me, it was pretty much a spur of the moment thing.   She wanted to own a dog, not lease one.  She didn’t do research and spend hours on the internet learning about Golden Retrievers.  She’d met a Golden Retriever named Jesse and she fell in love with him, and decided then and there that she wanted a Golden of her own some day.  She just loved Jesse, she didn’t know anything else.  Mom often follows her heart and then her brain takes over later.   Once she knew I was coming home with her, she got lots of books and read a lot and talked to people on the computer, too.   When I came home, she says she was really scared, but she was gonna be the best puppy mom she could be.

I think she did okay, and she still does okay.  She does better than okay, she does great.  I’m a good dog.  I go to the nursing home and visit our special lady, and lots of other people and they pet me and smile.   I can feel their old hearts get just a little lighter and that makes me happy.   I wag my tail a LOT.

And my mom.  She was so sad and so lonely.   Cuz of me, she met her best friend, and then she met more friends, and we go to lots of places and take rides and go on what she calls adventures – which really just means we got lost and found our way home, but she tells Dad about them and makes me the hero every time.   And they laugh together and that makes me feel happy.

I love Dad, too.  He was sad and lonely till Mom came along.  And now he says that I made them a family.

But according to some, I should not have been born.

I think those people are pretty stupid

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