MERCY MERCY

What a week we finished up today! First of all high temperatures flared and most outside workers who could do "flex" time by starting and ending early did just that. We tended to follow the example and get chores done the first half of each day and then stuck to completing indoor "stuff" later.

Then there was Mitzi (see July 15 below) who now is safe and sound in a rescue - another terrific ending for which I am very grateful. It's amazing how a network of caring folks came together and got something beneficial done in a hurry. Thank you for your mercy!

One of our "together" errands was as the result of having a yummy and delightful dinner with friends, right here in our town. Spur of the moment, stroke of luck, a promise fulfilled - whatever it was, we all enjoyed laughs and chatting. Our discussion did reveal we needed mulching blades on our mower. Who knew? Lucky us - there was a store greeter on duty. This was a sweet kitty; I think tabby mixed with a little Siamese. She was pretty and content but made a point of acknowledging both of us as we reached down to give her a friendly pet. We received lots of kitty kisses. Yes, I'm more a dog person, but we do have 3 cats and I love them dearly and I must confess that kitty kisses are special as they are not given out as freely as dog kisses are. So we were grateful for the welcome we received!

Then there was today's transport. I could write about it each and every week that we do a transport. Always the joy and excitement of knowing that mercy has been shown to a bunch of critters is overwhelming. Few feelings match those granted with transporting. We had somewhere around 37 animals today and there were 3 drivers on our route. WHAT? Yes, well, there were 14 kittens and 8 puppies and those can share bigger crates so it was OK. Of course, air conditioning must be blasting away the entire trip. In my vehicle were 8 kittens and 7 dogs and it was quite vocal for awhile but finally everyone settled down and napped, except maybe a kitten or two wanted me to know they did not appreciate the yapping dogs.

My front seat was occupied by a little cutie. It seems unfair to post only a photo of the tiniest dog but keep in mind we're not doing a photo shoot and this one just happened to be out of its crate temporarily so MM could have her photo taken with him. Usually we are walking, cleaning up, watering, re-loading, and heading out. Otherwise there would be a photo album. I think there may be some photos and even a longer video on the web. Since I'd slid the phone camera to video we got a couple of cute clips of "EARL" and MM.

He was a handful - nothing more than that! The trip went along without a hitch for the second "leg" and I'm sure on beyond that. It's a great bunch of folks - all volunteers - who, week after week, give of their time, energy, money, vehicles, supplies - so much more, to help those who cannot help themselves. And, as Beth Moore points out, in her James study, mercy is triumphant! These little guys know they are being given another chance, believe me. Each of our critters is a rescue as have been those we had in our lives before, whether they lived with us to the end of their lives or were fosters. They know. Anyone sensitive towards others can see it in their eyes. It makes it all worthwhile!

The Times are A-Changin'

Here in the midwest we enjoyed Spring on Saturday. By Sunday it was colder and overcast but Easter was a brilliant day, for all the right reasons - faith! Here we are on Tuesday with the temperatures rising and it seems as if I'm destined to get outside and start the seasonal yard work. The dogs have all been out for HOURS rather than MINUTES and that's a great sign. Not only do they get more exercise, they are getting groomed longer, and are toning up their muscles as they romp, they sleep splendidly each night. It was 6:45 a.m. when we arose this morning, a far cry from the usual 5 or 5:15 a.m. I probably look better too :-)

Still, how about some snaps of what was hiding under the snow which graced us with its presence a week ago yesterday?

 This one is a Lenten Rose and I wasn't sure it would be blooming in time since Easter was early this year. It came through though!

This is everyone's spring favorite, the mighty crocus. We have very few of them left as I think the critters dig under and eat the bulbs. Not our critters of course - the ones which live outside. When we see a blossom pop up we're delighted.

Both of these were spotted just a couple of days ago when I was outside shaking dog hair out of throw rugs that had been used to collect mush and mud being tracked in over the last week. Anyone relate to that? I'd write more but there are floors to scrub, dog treats to bake, and thanks to give!

P.S. Here's a shot of 2 of the 6 in residence. Photo was taken less than a week ago. Little White Dog (Harmony Victoria) is wearing her new "peace sign" tee shirt. Baxter Cyclone wants to make something of it. She apparently wants to keep the tee shirt on and to herself.

Grrrrrrieving

Elisabeth Kubler Ross wrote about DEATH AND DYING and her book included the steps associated with grieving. That was 1969. I read it in college during a psychology course or maybe sociology.

I'm entering step 2 today. ANGER: anger over Frieda having to die, more anger at the people who mistreated her so badly she feared her own shadow, even guilty anger at myself for not being able to fix it.

Expect me to write about it on this blog. Look at the title if you doubt for a moment that I wouldn't open up and try to rip those unknown individuals (I hesitate to call them humans)"a new one".

We had six dogs. Some people would say that's too many. But there are two of us and we are retired and we love dogs. All the dogs were adopted/rescued - call it what you will, they all have pasts, usually sad, some bad. Frieda's was both.

You might not think going from six to five would mean much. But it does. Each of them is bonded to the others and to us in lots of ways. One of our dogs had been tied to a tree in the country, her dead puppies and 17 other adult dogs nearby. The property owner lived an hour and a half away and drove by once or twice a week to toss out food. If the chain went far enough to get some of it then a dog was lucky. That's Sally's story. Needless to say she has issues.

We started out fostering Sally. She was adopted by friends but ran away, in the country, and that led to 9 days of searching for her, thru mucky fields. It was Frieda Joy who truly brought her back to safety, walking with me thru mud on that ninth day, making a "scent path" back to the live trap set for her. The next morning there was Sally, waiting. We brought her home. She and Frieda found solace in the life they shared here. Sally sits in Frieda's spots and went to Frieda's feeding spot when Frieda wasn't there Monday night.

I'm angry that Sally had already had much taken from her and now she has lost her best friend. Don't we all know how that feels?

For Sally and the others Frieda Joy was the alpha dog. Just her presence made it clear, even when she was frightened. She was first to the door with a greeting, first to a lap when thunder and lightning started, first to leap into the car when a field trip was in order. She got treats and then everyone else got them. We tried not to over-pamper her, tough as it was, because all the books say it's not good for them. But we spoiled her and protected her.

We just couldn't keep her from the demons she brought with her, the past sewn into her soul, carved on her heart. She covered them bravely with all the love she could muster up but sometimes those bad guys eeked out.

We helped her through those times but this time they beat us. But they didn't get the best of her. That's ours, all ours.

One Full Moon, Eight Dogs, and a Strange Cat

4 a.m. is not a great time to get up. Especially true if there's no sound reason to do so, it tends to make one need more make-up and feel hungry at odd hours. I wish we had a turkey to put in the oven and roast.

Nonetheless, here I am. OK, it's 5 a.m. but I have been awake for an hour, composing this in my mind.

There's a full moon and the dogs know it. All 8 of them (ours plus 3 visitors) and their additional personalities. We know there's a good dog/bad dog for each of them. Who else shows up on these full moon nights? I'll tell you. One new strange, stray, long-haired black cat. Lovely. Just what we need - another reason to be territorial.

And, we all know dogs will go back to sleep instantly, as soon as they get what they want, usually kibble, out, and a little attention. Then they lick themselves inappropriately, drop over on your personal space, and start with what gets us every time, "Oh, look how cute! He's dreaming." or "Aren't her little dream whimpers sweet?" Uh-huh.

But I'm up. I did mention that, didn't I? Short of making coffee or taking a dog for a drive to an all-night store to get the abovementioned turkey, there isn't much else to do other than write in the blog. (Sorry, don't take it personally.)

Actually when you read this you should count your blessings that we haven't crossed paths in some other way. If I go out somewhere today I know at least I, and probably others, will write notes to me and pin them to my shirt so that when I get home I can read them aloud to the four-legged culprits. They all start something like this:
Your person was not in the best of form today. Perhaps a nap, providing a little more sleep, would be beneficial. She seems a bit disturbed and grumpy.

Do yourself a favor. If you see a crazed female who needs a makeover, trolling the grocery store as if she has the blind nibblies, and perhaps even talking to herself and wearing her tee shirt inside out, give plenty of room when nearby.

Beware, one full moon, eight dogs, and a strange cat can play with your mind.

Grandpa, How Did You Know?

Long ago and not so far away, my grandparents lived and farmed. Grandpa, whom I never knew, participated in a plan offered by Modern Woodsmen of America. Today is my grandfather's birthday, a fact I didn't know for decades until one day I told my mother that July 9th is my favorite day of the year - something good always happens on July 9th. Along the way he was given a certificate and what appears to have been a huge calendar or print.
Regardless of what this last item started out to be it is dated 1898 and was framed at some point so it now is mounted above our fireplace, with the certifcate affixed to the back of it, keeping like items together, not a common practice in this household!

Today one of our foster dogs, Serena, who lived here from January thru March 2008, came to stay for a few days and it was like "old home week" for her and her then-foster mate, Sally. Sally is ours now. Upon her arrival we made small talk with her owner. I congratulated him on being appointed head basketball coach at one of the private religious high schools nearby - a very competitive rival for other schools. It had to be a plum of an appointment. I indicated I'd read about him in the newspaper and am just now am saying congrats...but I just said "job", nothing specific.

He looked puzzled and asked which job.

I replied "...head coach..."

He announced he'd just taken a new job, two weeks ago and was wondering how it made the paper already! Obviously it had not.

He is involved in opening up an office for Modern Woodsmen of America, back in this area, as they have been gone for a long time.

The world is small in so many ways. In just a few minutes we spanned over 100 years and matched up one person's family history with another person's family future. All this, of course, came about because of a dog.



Happy Birthday, Grandpa. I wish I had known you.

Take A Walk With Me

Today the temperature is going well into the 90's which isn't so bad but the humidity is 100%. So it is time to go for a trip down memory lane which leads to taking a dip in the pool. That's me on the right, mouth open. That happens less and less now, I hope! Those suits are beguiling. What happened to fashion? The yard was my backyard, jungle, library, forest, parade route, theater, swimming hole, campgrounds, and playground.

I had to share it with Grandma who held title to the veggie and flower gardens, see the white picket fence? The cherry trees were hers too, as well as the chicken coop-turned-tool shed which the photographer must be standing in near. It was the cherry tree in the photo background that I used to climb to pick and eat the cherries. I managed to get some for Mom and Grandma to make pies too. I had the kettle I used for cherries, right up till last year.

Oh, and half the yard had been converted to a parking lot, or maybe always was. Pre-Kate era. Grandpa was a mechanic and had a 3 car garage. Grandma rented "tourist rooms" and there was parking for guests. My dad's truck was always parked outside.

One of the tourists was a snappy, young lad, probably 24-28 and he had a car that matched - a zippy, 2 seat red convertible. I was too young to be appreciated by him but I knew what I liked and it was that car! So I just hung around, touching it when he wasn't there. It was an MGB. Now I think Grandma should have taken his car in exchange for a place to live and in time I would have had a slick ride for myself.

Come to think of it, this may have been my first sign of a love for cars. It became an obsession: I used to lay in bed, look out the window, tell myself, "1956 Ford Fairlane", "1960 Chevy BelAir" or whatever was passing by.

So the yard sounds huge and it was then, when I was little. It is, still, in my mind. It was a full day of activity, an adventure-land to visit. Some days there was laundry hanging out to dry and dashing between sheets was a game. The next day the line would be left up so a tent could be set up over it for camping out (day camp). The day after that the tent would come down and become a screen for a play or puppet show. We'd haul out folding chairs for dolls and trapped family members. After the final performance we'd swing and spin around on the monkey bars.

Then there'd be a day of running a library and the neighborhood kids would come and we'd read. Imagine that! Soon there'd be a game of tag or ball to wear us out before dinner. The pool was obviously above ground and a source of much cool fun, as is evidenced above. When the pool wasn't "up" we'd have pet parades and every cat and dog on the block was encouraged to participate.

The garden was the best though. Row after row of carefully tended to plants that yielded beans and lettuce, tomatoes and rhubarb, parsley and probably some stuff I wouldn't eat so don't remember. I do recall weeding and the associated excuses for not being able to do it...not just yet. The excuses failed; the weeds were gone. I was outnumbered by grownups.

Well, thanks for taking this quick trip with me around the back yard. I hope you enjoyed a glimpse of my only-child past. It was a close knit neighborhood where every mom was Mom, every dad was Dad, and every kid was like a brother or sister.

Or at least that's how I remember it.

Snowy Day

SNOWY DAY is the title of a children's book - by Ezra somebody...award winner. The title is the only thing the book and the blog post have in common!

But I have stayed inside most of the day, sorting items for the March APL Upscale Sale. It's best to get an early start or I'll miss the event altogether. Sorting includes going through the end of the photo boxes my mother had stored, bless her heart. Where did she keep all this STUFF?

Needless to say, amidst the tossing of her 8th grade spelling bee award, her English themes from high school, the sample of my dad's baby hair, their honeymoon pictures and post cards, I have been down memory lane.

It occurs to me that my parents really are gone. I can't ask any questions again about who is who or where something was taken or what is the story behind this or that thing. Hmmm. It's been a month since my mom died and what is said about losing someone is true - after everything settles down the loss becomes real for those left behind. Ed and I still think we should figure out who is going to visit her on what days!

Just the same it is fun to go through these items one last time. As I sort I am tossing and selecting those which need to be sent to relatives. I thought I'd sent all I had once but alas, such is not the case. So there's a second mailing to go out someday soon. I take a break now and then to pick STUFF that can go into the sale. Some of the old frames, a plate picked up while on vacation. The curling iron that was heated on the gas stove stays. So does the key to the old house. So do some treasured photos. So do the echoing laughs and other memories.




At my grandmother's 80th birthday party - just about the whole family on my dad's side was there. I was almost 8 or 9 I think.




My favorite cousins on my mom's side were these two guys who clearly had some mixed ideas about what we were playing...was it Cowboys and Indians and one thought Cowboys meant football Cowboys? Who knows. I just went along with it...not so much anymore though!

You DO meet the nicest people.

Zeke and I went to the nursing home. He was soooo good. Then we drove all the way back and across the city to a big box pet store to get him some canned food and a large box of large treats for everyone to share. He met lots of people and maybe his future owners. They were the nicest people and seem very interested in him as a buddy for Moses, their dog. I think they would have taken him right then and there. We'll see. He's darned good. I really had thought he could move to the White House. Hello Barack? It's about a dog for the girls...On the other hand, he's made friends with all the dogs here and Ed hasn't met him yet. To the people who met Zeke and Mr. President - just try and get this dog!

Speaking of the nicest people, a real surprise occurred yesterday when I took the greens orders for the library staff over to them, from APL. Since I was out at the shelter I offered to pick up and drop off the wreaths and door swags. Well, blow me away. I got inside the library office and the director presented me with a book, SAVED. It's about rescued animals, and their rescued people. I was taken aback. It was from the Library's Friends board, of which I'd been president and/or secretary for a number of years. This was totally unexpected. And, they selected something that focuses on my other passion - taking care of living creatures who've not had it too good so far.

Well, home with the crew last night I managed to cry my way through some 50 pages. It took a long time because the print is pretty blurry thru tears.

It's an amazing book. The group is amazingly thoughtful. I am amazingly fortunate.

And, we really shouldn't have anymore dogs. We help those who are homeless and then that opens a space for someone else who needs it. Yes, we did have 6 dogs. Yes, we will lose Precious soon. Yes, the dogs we have adopted are the "hard to place" ones so that complicates matters.

I keep telling myself those things.

Stuck in Traffic

Springfield, IL did NOT get the Simpson's movie. That means little to me but to some broadcasters it is the opening line for so-called news stories here in Lincoln's land.

It seems some business folks in town, who are really great people, chose to buy a home from the Lincoln era. This particular home recently ended up in the shadows of a newly constructed medical facility expansion. The property, and therefore the house, was scheduled to become - of all things - a parking lot. The couple purchased the home and had to move it within the designated time allowed by the medical facility and fortunately they had already purchased a lot in the historical area.

That's the background.

Sunday was moving day. A firm from St. Louis arrived with the equipment and talent to move the 300 ton brick structure. Streets were closed; a tree was removed and limbs from others cut off. Signs were taken down to let the house pass along the to its new destination. Nine hours and five blocks later the house arrived.

Did I mention Mr. Lincoln helped find financing for the house, something like $650 +/- a few? He did. Therein, the increased interest in the home - a Lincoln connection. The house is the Maisenbacher Home. They took really good care of it, apparently.

Back to the move, or what was clearly about to become the partial move.

Let me put you on hold momentarily and bring you up to speed on the side stories. You see I dawdled a while at the local Barnes & Noble Monday. We don't get the newspaper at our house anymore so when the house move came up in a discussion with 3 strangers I was interested. The new owners are personal friends of mine and former clients. That has no impact on the events other than I can vouch for them being good citizens and right-hearted, decent people. Anyway, I learned of a conversation one of these new acquaintances had while standing and watching the move. He was talking to the guy who was to put in the foundation.

The question presented was "How are you going to do this?" The answer was "I don't have a clue."



Are you starting to see the concern, soon to become a problem? Yes, the house is passing in front of the man who is in charge of building a foundation for it so WHERE is the house going to be placed now? The lot is small; the house is clearly large enough that it was wider than the street.

By the way, local radio media has taken to referring to this one block section of a side street as a "major thoroughfare".

The house resides in the street at this time.

Springfield's mayor thought he could slide a request for Tax Incentive Financing (TIF) into the hands of the aldermen, without them seeing it. Something along the lines of $822,000 was his idea. This was to help with the cost of the foundation and the renovation. Ouch. One alderman saw it. Now not every time one alderman sees something does he/she share it with the others; that's not the governmental way, folks. But in this case he did and the hands went up. It was a verbal brawl.

The new owners are in the middle of it all while their new prospective business is in the middle of the street.

See for yourselves.

Springfield was making great headway when President-Elect used the Old State Capitol as the backdrop for his announcements and it received a lot of attention.

This story will probably be even bigger news.
Stay tuned. More will follow undoubtedly. There's just no way around this house.

HOPE-filled

One foster dog romps with one of our dogs.
One foster dog is sequestered in the puppy pen, having had her spay surgery yesterday.
One dog stands guard outside, ready to alert me if something shows up that is undesirable. He's strong and imposing but really mild-tempered unless he's riled up.
One older dog rests comfortably in the outside pen that is located in a quiet spot.
One dog nurtures another one on the sofa, both happy to have homes and be at peace.

Somehow in my own twisted way I see this as somewhat representative of America!

First of all, what I described above is really my world today; it is what is, right now, as I write.

Does my dog population reflect our society in some ways?
-There are the young who want to play and grow and learn.
-People of all ages need medical attention and even more so medical education so prevention not pills is the key.
-The elderly need our support.
-Some need a fresh start, not a handout but a hand up.
-Some stand guard - on our soil and elsewhere, sometimes apparent, sometimes in the background.
-Others help each other, lending a hand, giving a caring gesture, the gift of prayer.

We have a new administration being built already this morning. I think GWB is ready to leave and is relieved to be counting down the weeks. Being our leader has to be unimaginably complicated and complex, thankless. As President-Elect Obama said last night, in so many words, it is going to take all of us working to fix what has happened. I do not think we should blame Bush 1 or 2, Clinton - none of them. Don't start building an "I told you so" argument about Obama. It's up to us. When we point the finger of blame towards someone else we still have more of our own fingers pointing back at ourselves!

We are either part of the problem or part of the solution. It's time we accept responsibility and also the work that needs to be done. Admitting to the problem is the fist step, isn't it? But what follows is the action.

This country is not our parents' country. We must stop looking back and moaning. When we look back we should look at what we can pull from the past, adjust and use for the future. Our world, our country, our demographics, our individual lives are changed, not by one circumstance but by all, not by one policy but by all, not by one decision but by all.

If you haven't heard/seen P-E Obama's speech last night, and McCain's also, then you need to tune in somewhere and spend the time listening AND HEARING what is being said.

Then find something YOU can do to help.

We ARE the UNITED STATES! That's not an entitlement nor is it an ego thing. History tells us we are survivors, we fix what is wrong, we innovate and create, we build, we repair, and so much more...play, guard, care for others.

Get, and stay, positive. P-E Obama cannot do this without our commitment to be part of the solution. See this for what it is: your opportunity to make a difference.

Let's not spend time barking up the wrong trees.

Scout O'Rama Hein, 1993-2008

It began as an ordinary Saturday, fall, 1995, for DINKs like us - errands and chores. But then it wasn't. We walked into a local store and looked around. Not for anything special, but then, there she was,special. Sitting huddled and frightened. That day we said hello.

We asked about her. This was her last day before being put down at the dog pound. She was only two.

It was early and we had places to go. We said we'd come back at the end of the day and if she wasn't adopted we'd take her. Don't put her aside. Let others look at her.

People of our word, we went back. She was waiting for us. Home we went. And, with the exception of vet visits and a few, out-of-yard running episodes, including the infamous one two years ago that put Ed in a near-death hospital situation, home is where she stayed. Our vet and family cared for her. Our pet sitter fancied her. We loved her and learned about her.

Turns out she wasn't so frightened. She was an investigator and a commentator. Her feet came off the ground when she barked. She was unbending, just plain awkward, when she ran - more like a rocking horse than a Beagle. She was always a happy clown. She made everyone play and smile. She snored freely, as if it was the greatest pleasure that came with laying down. In recent years she was Precious' eyes and encouragement, a role someone else will take up undoubtedly.

It began as an ordinary Saturday, fall, 2008, for retired folks like us - up early for coffee and chores. But then it wasn;t. Today we said goodbye.

Scout is at peace. God has her in His lap.


_________________________

Today, I am told, is the feast day of St. Francis, the saint who acknowledged kinship with all creation, particularly animals and nature. Around the world there are "Blessings of Animals" ceremonies. Here is John Galsworthy's prayer for gentleness to all creatures:

To all the humble beasts there be,
To all the birds on land and sea,
Great Spirit! sweet protection give,
That free and happy they may live!

And to our hearts the rapture bring
Of love for every living thing;
Make of us all one kin, and bless
Our ways with Christ's own gentleness.

Here She Is - Brighton, the Foster Pup

Well, isn't she just a doll? We think she is only 7 weeks old. Yes, she does sleep through the night - at least the first night. We put the old dogs in with her to keep her company! There is a squeal that she lets loose when she's wanting attention. Pretty good about going outside for all the right reasons too.

She was dumped.
Left in the country near a storm drain.
We have had record rains.
People who live nearby heard her exercising her lungs after their own dogs notified them that "something is out there".

She's with us for probably 15-20 days and then I hope she gets a great home.

RMT, NT and G, and Ed

This past weekend we enjoyed cousin company. Our family has experienced generational geographic expansion. In other words, we don't live close to each other. I wish we all did.

There's never enough time to cover all the big topics.

So, this past weekend we talked as if we will be together again this weekend.

I forgot to say, "I love you." There.

And, for laughs - our 29th anniversary found us laughing at the reality that I had a dog in the car and couldn't stop for a card for my husband and he bought me a perfect card two months ago, with dogs and cats on it, and has no idea where it is. That tells you why we have lasted - we just laugh!

Once a Baby, Now a Boomer

What a sad tale this fellow has but now APL has taken him into the shelter. Nuts as we are, Boomer may come to live his final weeks, months or years out at our house. Hopefully someone who has fewer dogs will benefit from his love but if not, he'll be bunking here with dogs in his own age group - 12-14 years.

Sometimes I question our sanity. But, it is never for long. We have the space. Yes, there is plenty of dust inside and let's not discuss dog hair. Our energy levels are not what we think they are. Dogs bark for attention and we can only hold so many on our laps at one time. I just laugh at the prospects of bringing in #7.

If pets bring laughter into our lives before we even meet them, imagine the joy and love possible when they take ownership of us!

Wherever Boomer takes up residency it is sure to be a better place than where he was. And, he will be loved to the end. For this and for him we are thankful for our choices.

AUGUST 20th update: Boomer has his new home and it is not with us. He and his lady love will spend his remaining years in great comfort together! Celebrate the companionship they are building!

Kitchen Which

There was a time when I had a cute little kitchen witch hanging around here but it's long gone. Still the play on words is worth doing.

The true topic is old time kitchen smells vs. kitchen designs. Reflecting upon the flaws I find in my own kitchen I have concluded that none are so great that they cannot be overcome by the familiar smells associated with something cooking or baking.

Who among us doesn't love walking into a place where the aroma is the ambiance, the experience, the memory? [Apologies if you have scent-deficit-disorder.] Not the fancy-schmancy candle scents. I'm talking about the real thing.

Kitchens I remember are mostly those in relatives' homes. Stands to reason, as when we ate away from home it was usually at one of those houses! But there was the pink kitchen at Aunt Margaret's. As I recall it was what she always had wanted. And, we ate at a big long table in the dining room once we were old enough. I remember her checking the turkey and then suddenly ,when it was close to carving time, all the women went into action: whipping potatoes, mixing the gravy, putting out the relishes, those brown and serve rolls...dressing, jello salads - the works! It all mixed in the air and was the call to the wild to come, to come, to come and indulge.

At Aunt Grace's it was grapefruit. I remember visiting there and that is what she was serving for breakfast. I'd never had it, had never even seen it. But it didn't smell sweet. There was no surprise that it didn't taste so sweet. I ate it, using the special edged spoon and still squirting juice on myself and others. Soon I was allowed to go the room I was sleeping in and read LITTLE BLACK SAMBO, a book from the shelves in there. As I recall, the tiger ran around in a circle and melted into something. I think it was butter. Not a PC book for these times.

When I went to the country, nearby where I live now, Aunt Edie always had more overflowing dishes and more people than the table could hold. Chances are some of what we were enjoying came from somewhere in the yard or garden. What I remember most is the smell of freshness, of "just picked". There's the scent of hands being washed, of sunshine on warmed skin - all mixed with the smell of ice cold milk and also great iced tea. And I remember the china cabinet we had to avoid bumping and the party-line wall phone and the steep steps to the upstairs and the cowboy motif in my cousins' bedroom.

So, instead of changing the kitchen I will opt for a ceiling fan and lighting placed more appropriately. The heat seems to be captured and stored in the work area. That has got to cease. And, instead of wanting something that could go in a magazine layout I will opt for what can't be seen. I will keep on cookin' and bakin' to fill the air with great scents. After all, nothin' says lovin' like something from the oven, right?

Now, go to the kitchen. Inhale. Ahhhhhh.

Someone's In The Kitchen With Kate

This has not been the smartest ten day span of my life but it is one of the busiest. Some of our foster dogs have come home to roost while families travel. We had one from Friday a.m. till sometime later today. Up until 8:30 today she was fine. Then she weaseled her way under the back deck, which, BTW, is closed in by lattice. I could not find her secret opening and I could not get her out until I pried off some lattice and dug a ditch for her to get out. She's fine. A little dirtier but fine.

The other two, yes, two, arrived at 6:30 this morning and are staying through Friday afternoon. They're puppies, let's see, 5 months old. One of course is the alpha dog so she will butt heads with our alpha, 14 month old Harmony. God willing, they won't meet. The other has the same shrilling whine as Harmony.

What have I done?

I thought Ed would be doing projects this week so pretty much gone and then tired when at home. But he overdid the work earlier this summer and has been told to take it easy for 10 days, 5 of which remain. He's out riding around looking for errands to run now. I suspect he may go to church and try to do something there, or just pray for my soul!

Actually it is quiet. We have doors and baby gates and a selection of crates. If these critters know what is good for them they will stay quiet and settled down in their respective spaces.

Since I'm home with them all today I decided to bake, early. Have done peach muffins and now I'm finishing the chocolate chip cookies. It may be 90 degrees outside but it's 375 degrees in the kitchen and that's where I am. Guess that tells you something.

Song Titles and diversionary thoughts

Twisted as I am, the "titles" for my blog entries often start out as song titles. Must be my participation in choirs and choruses over the years that causes that quirk. I do my best to avoid using them! Besides when I need to know a song title I can't remember it. Go figure.

Why is it a person's mind gets jam packed with trivial crap, such as being able to visualize the inside of the refrigerator and tell another person exactly where the leftover onion is? Or recalling what the details of a job description from 19-- were? Or knowing what the name of a bookstore in Livingston, MT, or a coffee house in Charlottetown, PEI is?

Then, this same person, self-confessed and namely me, can't remember what setting to use on a camera, doesn't recall the book just finished (title, plot, or actual location!), and on and on. This process of store and recall is an issue that has been passed down through the ages, I'm convinced.

But, these days there is so much more to first learn, then store, finally forget and try to re-establish again. Much of it has to do with stuff. More and more I am convinced every person in America, regardless of status (what an ugly word), has too much stuff. We think about the wrong things all too much and by wrong things I mean THINGS.

We worry about what will happen to our stuff when our last day on Earth is over. We worry about our stuff that we leave behind when we go someplace on a trip. We worry about the stuff we take along. We worry about what other people think about our stuff. We worry about the value of the stuff we want to get rid of because there is too much. We worry about whether we should get rid of it and when we do we start to worry about whether we acted too quickly for we might need that stuff again.

When I see photos of so-called poverty stricken people in other countries I don't see much stuff. They are stuff-poor. They have challenges, don't get me wrong; I see that. But they have a freedom we don't have by not having stuff to manage. They turn their thoughts to caring for each other, for sharing what they have right then and there. They stand in line for a ladle of water-y soup not the latest WII game. There's no shoving. When they get to the counter they are glad to get anything and if it is all gone they are saddened but non-disruptive. Hopefully someone shares. And, there is always the next time, the next line, the next helping hand.

Not here, not so much in this country. All too often our caring doesn't extend beyond our own selves, our basements, garages, kids' suites (really), or closets. It could be that there is some justification to what is going on now as we are learning we don't have to have it all. The more subtle approach of teaching us to save then spend didn't work. Now that our country's citizenship has spent more than it should, not unlike the government itself, we are learning the hard way, like 5 year olds. We have too much, paid too much for it, no one wants it, and we are pouting.

Our country is young by comparison to many others. Our culture is also. I wish we could all look around and see each other, without our stuff. We are all ending up angry and short-tempered because we don't like what is going on with prices. That isn't going to help or make anything better. Maybe we need to learn from people with less stuff that life goes on, that we must return to inventive and THINKING ways to make good things happen, to exist, to assist, to rise above the clutter of minds and places.

Phew.

Are You Buying This?

Gosh, it seems we spend an awful lot of money promoting products. I don't mean the ads companies pay for but we the consumers paying to further advertise products. An example which is terrorizing the niche of my brain that stores shopping information is the new "Singles" packages of chips. GOOD GRIEF! You can almost hear the bags yelling at you from the shelf, "Single!"; this is not a ski line. These are the same as the lunchbox sizes, just marketed to a more elite (ha) bunch. They are all 1 oz. servings of reflections of starch products, fried, dried, and salted or flavored and salted.

The product itself must be worth all of 1 cent but, ah, the status of the packaging that goes with it makes the bundle of 24 tiny bags worth about $8. If you aren't after the 1 oz. lunch size then you can get the 1 oz. single size in smaller groups. Here I go again though - what about Earth? If that 1 oz. of empty calories still draws you in spite of the surplus of calories and lack of nutritional value, what about all that packaging. You buy a 6-bag bundle, each individually wrapped, of course. Each advertising the product, all placed inside another larger wrapper, labeled. These all go into yet another bag at checkout. And, you get a string of coupons and a receipt. The darn paper you will toss away ways more than all the fried foodstuff inside.

I do like my snacks, mind you! But I work hard to control consumption, for what I hope are good reasons. I hate doing it; it'd be so much easier to snack away and hope God takes care of human health and all that is around us, patting us kindly with a "there, there, I'll make it better." Ain't gonna happen, folks. Gotta look out for ourselves and our surroundings.


That being said, gather all the catalogs you do not want and sit down at the PC, going to www.catalogchoice.org. Click on the post's title. Remove yourself from the mailing lists. It's going to take a couple of months. I tried calling a trash can's worth last year and got rid of a lot of them but as soon as something is bought and information is required we end up on new lists. And, then, when you figure it all out again, what you purchased leads to more packaging, catalogs, mailers, junk. It's an endless circle.

Don't deny yourself what you need but do something to de-clutter the world and your life will follow the same path.

Sally Sofa-Sitter Stays

My name is Kate and I am a dog-aholic. And, I am married to one. Our case is hopeless. But our house is happy! After 3 months of fostering Sally, FKA Venus, we have decided this is the place for her. She is happy with our other dogs. We took a vote. End of discussion. I don't want to hear about it from any of you. Couldn't hear you over the clicking nails on the floor or the barking to go for a walk anyway.

More seriously though - With THINGS as they are re: The American Dream, if you have it within your own power, adopt a pet. Benefits: You save a small life; you stay home more so spend less on gas and trivial entertainment; someone loves you no matter what; you fulfill at least one need; you have a subject to study, observe, challenge, learn from, teach; your health improves (another savings); you get more exercise and have an icebreaker when you meet people; security and safety. There are more. You'll figure them out when you get a critter. They are all-knowing and wise. Since most of us will never live in a culture which exists on fulfilling basic needs we must rely on what is available here. Pets have a simple way of stripping off the pallid veneer and getting right to the intensely richness of life. We Americans bitch (not the dog word) and moan about difficulties. Want to be happier? Take a dog for a walk and see how excited it is to be with you and share the world. Put a cat on your lap and listen to the contented purr.

Unfortunately there are going to be more and more pets losing their homes because of so many excuses. That's a shame. We all need something to hold onto.

Sally is back

The drama is over. Sally Grace, formerly Sally Sue, is back at our house. Her middle name became Grace because it was God's grace that went to work big time on her behalf.
Capturing a loose dog, especially one which has not fully bonded with its new owners and home, is a challenge. Long story short, we all did as much as we could to provide familiar scents for her to track. Clever girl that she is she did get into the live trap 2 times without engaging the door closing device! Clever woman, her new owner, put a piece of cardboard down and Sally had to step on it to get to the food and when she did the pressure set the release off and closed the door.
She's fine, trimmer than before, cleaned up now, and feeling relieved that she's inside. We'll get a couple pounds back on her, work with her more and see what happens. Everyone is grateful. For now who can ask for anything more?