Tag Archives: family

Dogs We Have Known – Shadow


The best way to encourage planned parenting is to give every newly married couple (say those who have been married 6 months or so) a new puppy to raise.  It could be a pass/fail test – if you raise the puppy successfully, you pass. 

I know this because Mark and I got our first dog 6 months after we were married. 

We bought her for $100 (on the theory that she was supposed to be a black cocker spaniel) on January 1, 1988 from a couple we met the night before at a New Year’s Eve shindig in Charlotte, North Carolina.  My best memory of that New Year’s day is riding around Charlotte looking for an open store with Shadow in my lap so that we could purchase basic items like a food bowl, water bowl, dog food, toys, etc.

We called her Shadow not because she was all black, but because, the day we brought her home she looked at her reflection in the patio door and was afraid, ie., afraid of her own shadow. 

It’s hard to believe, but this tiny creature destroyed an entire bathroom in two days.  We both worked, and had read that the way to raise a puppy if you couldn’t be home with it all day was to place it into a small enclosed area, so we chose our bathroom.  In the first day, she shredded all of the toilet paper off of the roll and scattered it throughout the bathroom, tore the shower curtain in half horizontally, so that the part from the floor to halfway up the length of the curtain was missing, and ate about half of the wicker trashcan we had in there.  (This is not a typographical error – I don’t mean she hate half of the trash in the trashcan, I mean that she ate half of the actual trash can.) 

The second day, in the same bathroom (we really didn’t have anywhere smaller to keep her at the time), she finished off the shower curtain (we are not sure how she got up there, but she did), finished off the trash can, and figured out how to open the cupboard in the vanity so she could browse through the towels there at will. 

 We took her to the vet the next day, because some of her shots needed updating.  Good Dr. Gandy took a long look at her, and seemed unconvinced that she was, in fact, a cocker spaniel.  It turned out that he was right – our best guess is that she was a cocker/lab mix of some type.  That is okay; it was the best (and only) swindle we ever took part in!  He suggested training her by putting her in a carrier.  We tried that, and (once we made it through the stomach virus she picked up somewhere) she did much better with things. 

Although Mark was ambivalent about getting a dog at first, he and Shadow quickly bonded – helped by the fact that, since at first she was especially frightened of males, he would hold her and pet her for hours on end to help her over her fear – to the point that she was (as Tyra is today) decidedly his dog.  She also cared for me, but for the first seven years we had her, I would catch her looking at Mark occasionally saying, “You know, we really don’t need her – you and I would be fine without her!”  I’m glad Mark didn’t agree!

When we were first married, we lived in a small town in North Carolina, but after 3 and 1/2 years, we came back to Alabama to be closer to parents.  Since we then, as now, were living in a small town fairly near to a lake, Mark and I decided to buy a boat.  Shadow took to the boat right away, which is pretty strange for a dog that hated the water.  Shadow could swim, she just emphatically refused to.  (In fact, once, we had the bright brain flash that perhaps Shadow didn’t like to swim because she didn’t like the way the lake bottom felt on her paws, so we took the boat out into really deep water and with Mark beside her in a life vest, we gently placed her into the water.  Mark still has a scar across his abdomen where she climbed over him and up the sides of the fiberglass boat to get away from the water.)

Her favorite speed was wake speed.  (Wake speed is extraordinarily slow, for those of you who don’t boat.  The motor barely stirs a ripple in the water.)  She would just laugh and laugh from the front of the boat, like she’s doing in the picture above, as long as you were at wake speed.  If Mark drove any faster than wake speed, then my job, per Shadow, was to sit in the front of the boat and hold her tightly until we got to wake speed again.  That is, unless the ride got to0 bumpy, in which case she would jump out of my arms, walk back to where Mark was and stare at him in protest. 

By the time she was 7, Shadow had slowed down considerably and just generally seemed kind of lonely, so after much not very subtle lobbying on my part to Mark, when a friend of mine at work told me about a litter of lab/cocker puppies that was advertised in the Birmingham paper, we called about one, and the next great adventure of Shadow’s life began – the raising of a puppy.

It took exactly one day for Shadow to adopt Woof as her own.  (The puppy was, of course, J.P. Wooflesnort, the same unfortunate dog who was dragged into the tub by Kayla).  After that, she raised Woof, trained Woof and played with Woof.  Training by us was not really required; Shadow was very intelligent and knew what she wanted her puppy to do and not do. 

To raise a dog is to place the history of your marriage within a framework that includes what is going with the dog at that particuarly time.  For example, we acquired Woof in October, right in the middle of the college football season.  I had a blast with the two dogs, especially since I worked in town at the time, so could come home every day at lunch time to let Woof out of the carrier (we learned something from our training of Shadow – humans aren’t that hard to train, after all!)

The Christmas I was about to turn 30, Mark kept threatening to give me “peep-os”  (Translation:  Flannel pajamas with feet in them) for Christmas.  He found an even better way – he conned another family member into believing that I was longing for a pair of them, and had that family member give them to me.  I have always appreciated the effort it took for that person to find these pajamas; “footie” pajamas for adults are quite rare!

Even when Woof was an adult, Shadow cared for her like she was her puppy.  Here, Shadow and Woof are lying on the same dog bed in the sun in one of the houses we used to live in.

In Shadow’s last years, Mark and I got rid of the boat and purchased a small travel trailer for camping, instead.  Both of the dogs liked to camp in this way.  We had tried camping with Shadow in a tent at Wind Creek in mid-March early on – Wind Creek was living up to its name, and Shadow kept looking at us asking why we were huddled in this tent to keep it from flying away when we had a perfectly good house to go live in.  Neither of us had a good answer.  However, the travel trailer, complete with aids for roughing it like an oven, a microwave, electricity, water and air conditioning, was another matter entirely.  That kind of camping, she loved.

We always wanted to give Shadow the chance to help raise a people puppy, too, but unfortunately that was not to be.  Shadow developed kidney trouble in late 2002, and died in May, 2003 at the age of 16.  The people puppy didn’t arrive to live with us until December 1, 2004.  They would have made a great pair!

So, on this day when I hear rumors that a wedding has taken place in a church called Westminster, between a couple whose first names are Kate and William, I would offer them the following advice:  get a dog!  The rewards in love and laughter alone are immeasurable.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

The Morning After


Good morning folks!

It was a wild last night at our house, and I am sure at many other houses throughout the State of Alabama.  Tornados ripped through our state with a frequency and magnitude I have not seen before.

Tornado in Tuscaloosa. Source: ypages.twitter.bjmillican

I am thankful that our house, neighborhood and town do not appear to have been very hard hit, although another part of our county as well as the county where I work suffered severe damage.  And I mourn for the loss of life that I know has happened and which will be revealed during the day.

Only some of the devastation in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Source: WRBC TV.

From the Birmingham News: Devastation in Cullman, Alabama

As the sun comes up, the full extent of what happened will be revealed, and the full enormity of the damage as well.  The effects of what happened here, in this state, will begin to sink in with an immediacy that even the highest amount of compassion can’t give you unless you have been to, or know someone from, that place. 

Almost everyone in our state has driven to or conducted business in at least one of the places that have been damaged.  Because we are one of the smaller states population wise, even if our area survived intact, many of us are concerned about relatives and friends in other areas of the state. 

 So today, I will pray a prayer of gratitude for the storm passing over me and mine this time, and a prayer for healing and hope and comfort for every one of those people whom the storms hit, and the families of those who were killed.  And then see what else I can do to help from where I am….

Sunrise from our house, April 28, 2011

Please have a good day, and stay safe, wherever you are!

Nancy

The Magic of the Little White House


Hi Everyone! 

There was an article on the Atlantic web site (http://www.theatlanticwire.com/global/2011/04/worlds-last-typewriter-factory-closed/37013/ ) yesterday stating that the last typewriter manufacturing factory in the world is closing its doors.  While there is a dispute as to whether that is true, see http://www.foxnews.com/scitech/2011/04/26/worlds-typewriter-factory-shutting-doors/, all sources seem to be in agreement that the typewriter is reaching the end of its days. 

 When I think of a manual typewriter, the typewriter that comes to mind is the typewriter that has been used by four generations in my family, starting with my Great-Grandmother, and ending so far with Kayla. 

The typewriter used to sit in that most magical of places to a child growing up, the Little White House.  The Little White House was a small two bedroom, one bath house behind my grandparents’ house on their land.  When I was very small, my grandparents used it as a place for my great-grandmother to live independently, but near enough to them that they could help her. 

1969, Grandma and Grandpa's House

 

1969, The Little White House, from the Back Patio of the main house

By the time I was old enough to stay with  my sisters at my grandparents for a couple of weeks at a time, my great-grandmother had died, and the Little White House served as Grandpa’s shop and storage room.  Grandpa liked to fix up clocks, so the second (middle) room of the house had an assortment of clocks hanging on the wall, along with the tools needed to fix them.   Each of us, his grandchildren, have at least one clock that he fixed in our house.  Mine is a Seth Thomas clock, manufactured in the United States under a patent issued in 1890.  (I took the face glass out to avoid extra glare in the picture, but it is still intact.)  

In the front room, there was a solid desk, probably oak or maple, and the typewriter sat there.  Grandpa would use that typewriter to write letters.  One of our favorite things to do while we were at Grandma and Grandpa’s was to go into the Little White House and bang on the typewriter to our heart’s content.

There were many other objects of interest in the house; I remember an old bed, and trunks, cabinets and cupboards that were full of fascinating objects, including old family photographs that introduced me to a whole generation of my family that had passed on long before I was born.  The desk contained Great-Grandma’s efforts to trace the history of the family, and at the time I saw it she had traced it back to the Revolutionary War. 

This was the last page of her research, and it was typed using the same typewriter that Kayla is using in the picture above.   The handwriting is Great-Grandma’s also.

This was Great-Grandma shortly before she moved into the Little White House.

One of the pictures we found in the Little White House was the following picture, which shows my Grandfather’s family when he was around 10 or 11.

On the left side, my grandfather is in front, with Great Grandma standing behind him, and Great Grandpa further behind her.  This picture was taken somewhere around 1926 or 1927.  Pretty amazing stuff, isn’t it?

Grandma and Grandpa moved into a smaller house in the late ’80’s, but sold the old house to another couple and the Little White House is still standing.  I’m glad it’s still there, but  I don’t need to go into it again; I prefer to remember it the way it was when I was a child, fascinating, mysterious and full of treasures.

Do you have any such secret places from your childhood, magical places that were filled with thrills and adventures every time you walked in?  If so, please share your story in the comments.  I’d love to hear from you!

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Mondays and Water Piks


Good morning everyone!

We have made it back around to Monday again.  I hope everyone had a great weekend!

  • Mondays

I have to admit that I’m not that fond of Mondays.  It’s actually not the whole day I object to, but the getting up part.  Waking up on Monday after sleeping in on Saturday and Sunday is quite a shock to my system, especially since I am not a morning person.  (Apparently, from the whines and moans coming from Kayla’s room, it is a shock to her system also.)  The shock causes me to do weird and wonderful things, like looking for my glasses when I am already wearing them.  (I did that this morning; fortunately, it didn’t take me too long to figure it out!)  Until I began commuting to work about 9 years ago, I firmly believed that the thirteenth commandment was “Thou shalt not wake up before 6:00 a.m.”  Now I do it every Monday through Friday.  

  • The Fountain of Water Pik

As soon as Kayla got her braces, we went out and bought her a Water Pik to use.  The Water Pik shoots a jet of water into your mouth that is supposed to push anything out of your braces that is not supposed to be there.  I had one when I had braces as a child. 

Given the way it shoots out water, I think it must be the antecedent to the Jet Ski.  I can see some future engineer cleaning his or her braces with a Water Pik, then having a “Eureka” moment – “you know, this same action could be used to propel a vehicle through the water!”  Whoever he or she is, I hope they  made a lot of money off of the idea.

Kayla and her Water Pik very much have a forced marriage, as in her father and I have to force her to use the Water Pik every day.  Last night, I told her to use her Water Pik when she was getting ready for bed, and in a second or two I heard it switched on in the bathroom.  The only problem was that I had been in her bathroom earlier in the day, and I hadn’t seen any water in it then, and I hadn’t heard any water placed in it before it started running.  So we asked her to be sure it had water in it.  There was a pause in the bathroom, then the Water Pik started running again.  I still hadn’t heard any water put in the thing, so I got up to go check. 

There was water in it all right, or at least there had been before Kayla started using it.  When I walked in the bathroom, Kayla had her mouth full of water and the water had also just started squirting out through her nose like a fountain.  I don’t think it was intentional, because she and I started laughing about it at the same time.    I’m still not quite sure how she managed to do it; I used a Water Pik for 2 years as a teenager back in the Dark Ages, and never had that happen! 

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Time for Reflection: Thoughts on Good Friday


Hi Everyone!

If you are a working parent (or really, I think if you are anyone in the crazy world we live in today) there seems to be very little time for reflection.  I don’t know if we are all really that busy, or if we just have so many more delightful (or non-delightful) distractions that call us away from time to just be and think, but please indulge me today as I carve out some time this morning to write, mainly for myself, about the meaning of an important day in my religion, Good Friday. 

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

For Christians, Good Friday commemorates the day that Jesus was crucified.  I have wondered often why Good Friday is called Good Friday, since the event it commemorates is a solemn, horrific event, but a quick jog over to Wikipedia, through the American Heritage Dictionary informs me that when Good Friday was originally named, “Good” had the meaning of “pious or holy.”  So, when you substitute in the word “Holy Friday,” it makes more sense. 

From Print Shop Professional 2.o0

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Christian beliefs, we believe that it was during this week, the week of the Jewish Passover, that Jesus deliberately allowed himself to be arrested and crucified in order to provide redemption for every person’s sins.  Easter, which is always the Sunday after Good Friday, is a special day to remember the most important event in all of Christianity, Jesus’ resurrection from the dead.  Without Good Friday, neither Christmas nor Easter, from a Christian standpoint, would make much sense.

I do wonder, though, whom I would have been if I had been alive during this week in Jesus’ life.  (I began thinking about some of these things from a post I read in  the blog, “Servant’s Life” by Stacy (at www.servantslife.com) called “Christ and the Cross”).  As a modern Christian, I like to think I would have been the one person who stood by Jesus throughout his entire ordeal, knowing with confidence the true meaning of this death, but the wiser part of me knows better.

You see, NOW I have the advantage of knowing the entire story. At the time, the people involved were in the middle of it, and even Jesus’ closest friends and followers were shocked, scared and bewildered by what was going on. Would I have been a follower, scared and bewildered? Would I have been one of the people seeking His death due to what I saw as an intolerable threat to the status quo in the politically torn world of Israel under the Romans? Would I have been one of the people in the streets who didn’t really care what was going on in the temple, the Roman governor’s office or the hill of Golgotha (the place where the crucifixion took place) thinking that what happened up there didn’t affect me?  Would I have been someone who believed in Jesus in secret, but not brave enough to speak out for Him or defend Him?  Would I have been one of those who mocked Him as He was scourged, suffering, and crucified? Would I have been throwing lots at the foot of the cross for His clothes?  These questions are uncomfortable, and I will leave the conclusions I reached (if any) private, but I think it is an important point for me to reflect on.

From Print Shop 2.0 Professional

 My other thought about Good Friday is simply how it takes a conscious effort to keep my daughter aware of what this weekend really means – that Good Friday and Easter have a deeper meaning beyond the impending arrival of the Easter Bunny (although we participate in that with glee and enjoy it) but about something deeper and more important.  I imagine that other parents in other religions also have to work to help their children understand the meaning of important events in their religions.  It is not inappropriate to take this small moment of reflection to evaluate my efforts in this area, too.   However, my conclusions I will keep private. 

From Print Shop Professional 2.o

However solemn Good Friday is, the main point of Easter is love and hope.  So, whatever events you are or are not celebrating this weekend, I wish for you to experience both.  Thank you for your indulgence, and I hope each of you have a wonderful weekend, and a Happy Easter!

Nancy

Fort Jefferson


When we go back to Key West with Kayla some uncertain time in the future, one of the places I want to revisit is Fort Jefferson at the Dry Tortugas National Park.

 

 As this 1994 map from the University of Texas Library’s web site shows, the Dry Tortugas consist of a group of seven islands, with surrounding waters, that lie about 70 miles away from Key West.  The Dry Tortugas were named by Ponce De Leon, because, when he first saw the islands, they were covered with turtles.  Tortuga is Spanish for turtle.  However, after he had his men explore the  seven keys that make up the Dry Tortugas, he also discovered that they had no groundwater, so he called them the “Dry” Tortugas.  (Actually, he probably called them Las Secas Tortugas, since “seco”, I think, is the Spanish word for dry, but in the wonderful way that happens with place names, someone decided to split the difference and make the first word English and the last Spanish.  “Dry Turtles” doesn’t exactly recommend itself as a name, does it? )

Mark and I at the entrance to Fort Jefferson

 The largest of the seven keys, Garden Key, is where the fort was built.  Construction was started in 1846.  It took over thirty years to build and ultimately, due to the composition of the land beneath, was left unfinished when the third level of battlements ended up being too heavy for the ground supporting it.  There were over 16 million bricks used in its construction!

Fort Jefferson in its heyday supported a full contingent of military personnel.  This is a picture taken of the Fort from the top of the battlements, looking across the parade grounds to the other battlements to give you some size of its scope.

Originally, there were cannons placed in many of the openings under the archways.  The field inside of the fort, now covered with grass and trees, served as the parade ground, and included barracks for the men as well. 

At the beginning of the Civil War, in 1861, the United States Government decided to use Fort Jefferson as a federal prison.  Probably the most famous inmate at the fort was Dr. Samuel A. Mudd, the doctor who set John Wilkes Booth’s leg after Booth assassinated Lincoln.

 

 Sentenced to life imprisonment, Dr. Mudd was pardoned in 1869 by President Johnson, for his work at the Fort during an outbreak of yellow fever which killed many inmates as well as the prison doctor. 

The Army left Fort Jefferson in 1874, and in 1908 the area became a wildlife refuge to protect the eggs of nesting birds from collectors.  Then, in 1935, Fort Jefferson was named a national monument, and finally, in 1992, Fort Jefferson, Garden Key and the six surrounding keys as well as the surrounding waters were named the Dry Tortugas National Park. 

Now, the only people living at the fort are people from the National Park Service.  You have to request duty at the Dry Tortugas, and there is a rotation schedule that allows people to rotate in and out.  They get their water from a cistern below the fort built by the army to collect rain water. 

There are only two ways to get to Fort Jefferson:  by boat or by plane.  We took the Yankee II Ferry.  The trip is an all day excursion; we left Key West promptly at 8 and returned around 5 or 5:30.  It is a four hour round trip, so you end up with roughly five hours on the island.  The Ferry provided us both breakfast and lunch.  Ferry personnel also gave guided tours of the Fort, which we enjoyed very much. 

Although I am not a great lover of heights, there was enough land at the top of the battlements that I was able to overcome my fear to take a good look out, and I was glad that I did! 

Here is a picture of Mark from the top of the wall, with the sea behind him:

 

Here is another picture from the top of the wall:

One of the best things about the day trip to Fort Jefferson is that not only do you tour the historic fort but also there is a small beach to the left of the entrance of the fort that leads to you an area where you can snorkel around the fort.  On our way over to the beach, we saw this pelican, which had landed on the pier:

I have an inordinate fondness for pelicans, so whenever I see one that is close enough, I pretty much have to take a picture of it. 

Mark snorkeled for a good long time, and tried out the disposable underwater camera we bought specifically for this excursion.  Here are a few of the pictures he got:

This was the first time we had every tried an underwater camera.  Next time, we might go ahead and buy a digital one that works underwater.   

I went snorkeling with Mark about the last hour of the trip.  By that time, we were out of film, but he had discovered that the more colorful and diverse sea life was up where the sea met the wall of the fort, so we explored that area for a while. 

The keys surrounding Fort Jefferson are also interesting in their own right, as the only nesting places in the Northern Hemisphere for certain types of birds, including the magnificent frigate bird – yes, “magnificent” is part of the name, and yes, it is truly deserved – and many sooty terns.  You could see the rookery of the frigate birds in the distance, but the sooty tern rookery was on Bush Key, which is less than a stone’s throw from Garden Key, and the swarm of terms surrounding the key was phenomenal. 

The Magnificent Frigate Bird

 

The Sooty Tern

We returned on the Ferry to Key West relaxed, refreshed and thoroughly sunburned.  (Note to self:  Sunburns happen even on cloudy days!).  I can’t wait to do it all over again with Kayla some day!

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

P.S.  I had a lot of trouble with photographs for some reason today, so I wish to note here that I found the map of the Dry Tortugas on the website of the Library of the University of Texas, the photographs of Dr. Mudd on the Famous Trials Page, Lincoln Conspiracy, from the University of Missouri-Kansas City Law School web site, and the photographs of the two birds on Wikipedia in the public domain.  They were taken by two employees of the United States Fish and Wildlife Service.

The Thief, The Necklace and The Eggs


Hi Everyone!

Noble as he looks, the past two days have been Darwin’s (No-no’s) turn to get in trouble. 

  • The Thief

Mark came home Monday night and was really feeling bad, so I gave him an array of choices for supper.  I wasn’t sure what he wanted to eat.  He wasn’t really hungry at first, either, so Kayla and Iwent ahead andate, leaving his plate of ravioli on the counter, but pushed far enough back that Mandy couldn’t get it.  After Kayla went to bed, Mark decided he could eat a little bit, so I walked into the kitchen to discover that someone had eaten all of the ravioli off of his plate but one.  My suspicions were already on Darwin, because it is hard for a white dog to eat almost a full plate of Chef Boyardee ravioli (you surely didn’t think I had cooked anything more complicated than that?) without there being some traces of spaghetti sauce somewhere on her fur.  However, the evidence was not overwhelming. 

Later that evening, we heard noises from the kitchen again, and Mark went hurtling into the kitchen.  Being the sharp investigative agent that I am, I realized that it couldn’t be Mandy, because she was charging around the corner, afraid that she was missing something.  Sure enough, it was Darwin, going for the last piece of ravioli on the plate which Mark had left out deliberately to catch “the thief” in action.  I didn’t get the impression that Darwin was particularly sorry for anything but getting caught, either.

  • The Necklace

Two weekends ago, Kayla and I got to go over to a good friend’s house to begin  learning how to make necklaces from beads.  We had a great time, and Kayla came home with two necklaces she had designed, both of them as cute as they could be.  One of them was made of blue/gray beads, strung with elastic wire and had a pineapple pendant in the center.  The beauty of the elastic was that all she had to do to put in on was to pull it over her head. 

I worked at home yesterday, and about 11:00 a.m.  I started to hear funny noises from the den.  Whenever I would go over to investigate, the noises would stop.  I finally was fast enough to see Darwin chomping on a pile of blue/gray unstrung beads.  While I am usually fairly unflappable about what the dogs eat, (if they can survive a full tube of Neosporin, how much is there to worry about?) small, floss-like wire/string is another matter.  It can cause trouble in a dog’s stomach.  I scooped up the beads, searched Darwin’s mouth for any remainder (every time I wasn’t looking at him while I was picking up the beads it sounded like he was chewing something), then tried to decide whether I needed an emergency visit to the vet or not.  I walked into the bedroom for a minute, and looked down, and there was Darwin, chewing on the remainder of the beads (where he hid them I do not know), which were, thankfully, still hanging on the elastic string/wire.  Much to his disgust and my relief, I scooped the beads and the wire up and put them where they were definitely out of reach. 

The Necklace Remains

  • The Eggs

Have you ever stopped to think about how little we really see sometimes?  Research has shown that, as adults, we reflexively take a kind of mental shortcut once we have catalogued a place or a person, and whenever we see that afterwards we “see” enough to identify the space and then cease to look intensely anymore.  This behavior is quite understandable; by being able to limit the number of things we have to observe closely at any one time, our brains are able to focus on the things we absolutely must.

Still, sometimes, that mental shortcut  can cause us to miss out on interesting sights.  Kayla and I went to the local McDonald’s for breakfast yesterday morning, since I was taking her to school and we were ready to leave the house in plenty of time for us to go, her to be on time at school, and me to begin work by 8.  While we were there, she saw a friend of hers and after she said hello, I had to work to keep Kayla focused on eating her biscuit rather than trying to see what the friend was up to.  After we had been there about twenty minutes, I suddenly noticed shiny, bright Easter Eggs hanging from the ceiling.  Logically, I know they had been there all along, but it was like they just suddenly appeared to me.  Someone went to a lot of trouble to hang them and it really looked festive.  I don’t know what short-circuited my mental filter at just that moment, but I’m glad it did, or I would have missed a colorful sight.  After all, you don’t see Easter Eggs hanging from a ceiling in McDonald’s every day!

Plastic Easter Eggs

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

The Dream versus Reality


I have a dream. 

From Print Shop 2.0 Professional

 In my dream, I have perfectly coiffed hair, stunning make-up, an elegant outfit, a house that shines in every sense of the word – dark wood floors that stay shiny instead of riddled with paw prints, none of those piles of clutter that inexplicably build up in odd nooks and crannies throughout the house – a daughter who has done her homework before I pick her up from day care, and three dogs sedately trotting beside me as I gracefully glide toward the door to greet my husband as he returns from a hard day’s work.  If I need a pen, a pencil, the tape, scissors, paper or any kind of widget at all (I never have figured out what a widget is, but they sure are mentioned a lot!), I can go (gracefully glide) immediately to the spot where the item is located.  As my husband walks in the house, he is greeted by the wafting aroma of a home cooked meal, completely from scratch, using the best recipes I can cull from The Joy of Cooking or The Fannie Farmer Cookbook.  Even though this gourmet meal is being presented, the kitchen itself is spotlessly clean.  I am completely caught up with all my chores at home, and all my projects at work have been finished at least five days before the deadline.  (Those of you from work who read this can pause to roll on the floor laughing for a moment. )

The gap between this dream and reality is very far indeed. 

(Those of you who have come to our house for supper do not see this reality – we make sure the house is picked up before you come over!) 

When my husband usually comes home from work, he is met by three frantic dogs, two of whom are doing their best to jump on him any way they can. 

 Having just finished and filed the brief that was due today at 4:30 right before I headed for the house,  I am now at 6:15 having a discussion (read argument) with Kayla as to why she failed to complete her homework at after school care rather than waiting until we got home.  I also am explaining to her (this concept is relatively new) that just because you didn’t have any worksheets from school doesn’t mean that you have no homework – after all, if the teacher gives you a study sheet and hints that you are having a test on the study sheet on Friday, she intends for you to review the study sheet in the intervening week. 

From Print Shop 2.0 Professional

 The kitchen is not clean, and I am doing my best to piece together a fairly quick supper because a) I failed to plan the meals in advance and b) we just got home and I have about 1 hour and 45 minutes to get Kayla bathed, fed, ready for bed and still give her some modicum of time to spend playing and having some quality time with us.  We usually have laundry lurking somewhere, whether unfolded in a basket or in the form of  ironed pieces hanging on the the mantel (and what ironing was done was done because Mark did it), and the pile of shoes in my bedroom (see,https://workingmomadventures.com/2011/03/03/earth-fare-the-longest-walk-general-von-bissing-and-the-birds/) is anywhere between two and four pairs.  As for perfectly coiffed hair – you can forget it.  I am lucky to have gotten it washed in the morning with enough time to let it air dry, and as a general rule my make-up is never perfect. 

From Print Shop 2.0 Professional

The dogs, if I walk them, with the exception of Tyra, have pulled me out of the door looking rather like a crazed Hittite charioteer without a chariot,  being pulled by dogs, not horses.  I have often wondered if I tried it on roller skates, how fast I could be clocked before I fell and seriously injured myself.    The inside of the refrigerator looks like a no-man’s land, with odds and ends in containers that I can’t remember what they were or when they were cooked. 

An actor rides a Roman-stule horse-drawn chariot in Jerash, Jordan, during a rehearsal for 'The Roman Army and Chariot Experience,' a one-hour show held in honour of Julius Caesar, and part of Jordan's newest tourist attraction(AFP/File/Khalil Mazraawi)

This is the problem with the dream – it makes me feel continually inadequate, and I am doing it to myself!  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I have decided that the dream is the way most people live, and if I don’t measure up to that, then I am not worthy.  While I should (and am trying to) do better on keeping the house picked up (understand, Mark does pull more than his fair share here; I am the one that has the organizational/neatness issues), it will never be perfect.  In fact, I wouldn’t want it to be, since for the three dogs to be trotting sedately beside me I would have to have a different trio than the lovable mutts that romp beside me through my day, for me to have a daughter that does her homework perfectly and on time every day, I would have to have a different daughter, and for me to have the floors sans paw marks, I wouldn’t be able to have the dogs.  (Well, actually, I could also have lighter wood, but that wouldn’t look right in the house, either.)  There probably would be a lot less laughter, too.

So, I guess rather than tasking myself with inadequacy, I will change the things I can, accept the things I can’t, and pray for the wisdom to know the difference.  I also will go read the latest book on how to keep things organized, once I find it after threading through the shoes on my bedroom floor and searching in the clutter stack that is growing on its own in the corner…..

If you can relate let me know!  I would love to know that I’m not the only one  out here.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Best and Worst


Hi Everyone!

PHIZ Illustration of Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.  It was the day when my sweet daughter demonstrated her extraordinary love, and the day when my mischievous daughter had all my buttons pushed in about 10 minutes.  With those of you who have kids, isn’t that the way it usually is?

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

Mark had a cold this weekend; colds are harder on him than on most people because of reasons there are no need to go into here.  He still got up and went to church, but couldn’t stay for Sunday School, since he wanted to save enough energy for the Sunday night choir service.  Kayla and I stayed for Sunday School, and then once we got home and had lunch, the solemn ritual of the Sunday afternoon nap began.  (Almost every Sunday, Mark and I take a long nap – I’m embarrassed to say that it is one of the highlights of my weekend!) 

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

 Mark didn’t sleep very long because of his cold, and once he woke up Kayla bebopped out of her room, where she gets to sleep or play quietly as she chooses during nap time.  When I woke up at 3, she came into my bedroom to tell me that I needed to come see Daddy immediately.  When I asked why, she told me that he was freezing cold, even though his temperature seemed normal, and she had already given him two blankets and she didn’t know what else to do for him.  As I headed from the bedroom to the den, she also firmly told me that I needed to give Daddy a kiss.  Then she paused and added, “But you need to do it somewhere where it won’t hurt him.”  (One of Mark’s side effects from running a temperature is extreme pain.)  Now, how much more sweet and loving can a daughter get?  Not much!

Kayla Playing Around At Halloween

Then we came to the 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. time slot, where she squirmed, talked, played school and just generally made those noises kids can make that hit a nerve somewhere at the base of your spine and shiver on up to your brain to the “guaranteed to irritate” button.  Towards the end of this time,  we were driving Mark’s mom to take her to the concert with us, and Kayla insisted on being the center of attention.  I was close to my last shred of patience when we pulled up to the church.  (To other parents:  doesn’t that always leave you in the proper mood for worship?   It would be interesting to see videos of families with children under the age of 12 right before leaving for church, and compare that to when they arrive at church.  Sometimes the picture is very different, at least in our house!). 

Fortunately, shift change had arrived, and sweet child came back on the scene.  She sat through an hour of Easter music with no difficulty and impeccable behavior, and enjoyed it very much.  I think though, that she used all the patience she had available to her in that hour, because once she and I got home, the antics started again.  Let’s just say I was extremely frustrated by the time I got her in bed.  Then she reached out to give me my good-night hug, and somehow none of the rest mattered anymore.  I guess the entire day was the best of times, after all!

Kayla and Mandy right after we got Mandy

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Updates: Roadkill, Rites of Spring (I) and Grumpy


Hi Everyone!

Sorry this is a little late, but I am having problems with my internet access at my house.  I thought I would update you on previous posts today.

Darwin and Mandy

  • Roadkill

I’ll start with the dogs.  You may remember the stuffed animal toys that had been keeping Darwin and Mandy out of trouble for at least a week?  Well, the two of them finally discovered both the stuffing and the squeakers in the animals and in the space of about three days managed to remove both.  We haven’t (although we probably should) thrown any of them out yet; even though a deflated stuffed dog toy looks a lot like roadkill, Darwin still really loves them and I hate to take them away from him yet.  On the other hand, Mandy’s consumption rate on handkerchiefs and other items has started to climb back up.  The other night I didn’t get the kitchen cleaned in time, and before we knew it, she had helped herself to left-over steak and fries for a hearty night-time snack.  Once we caught her at it, she came trotting back over to the den, but she wasn’t particularly sorry about what she’d done, either. 

Tyra is slowing down a little bit, which isn’t unusual for a dog her age.  Part of her problem is the canine glaucoma she has in her left eye; I don’t think she sees very well out of it anymore, so to go anywhere in the house she circles around the long way so she can see where she’s going through her other eye.  She ended up sulking last night, which I have never seen her do before. 

Tyra in the Kitchen (Mandy and Darwin are in the background)

Mark likes to play the piano.  She likes to stand beside him while he plays and expects him to play one-handed every so often so she can get petted while he plays.  Last night, however, he didn’t stop to pet her.  After about 20 minutes of that, Tyra walked over to Mandy’s carrier and went and sat inside it with her face pointing away from Mark at the piano.  The only explanation was that she was sulking.  When he finished, he went over to the carrier and coaxed her back out.  

  • Rites of Spring (I)

The Way My Garden Groweth (NOT!)

In my March 23 post, “Spring, Roosters & Butterflies”, http://wp.me/p1mXHZ-4U, I mentioned that the first rite of spring was going into a trance at a garden center and walking out with all kinds of spring flowers.  That was three weeks ago.  As of today, the pansies that I bought are still alive outside, but have not been transplanted into the planters on the porch (I have instead hidden the normal planters and left the pansies in the pots they came in), and the grass seed, caladium, gladioli and lily bulbs still remain in the trunk.  Hopefully I will get a chance to work on it Saturday! 

  • Grumpy

While yesterday morning, sweet child made an appearance, this morning saw the arrival of grumpy, crying child.  The first cry came over the fact that she had “nothing to wear.”  For those of you who don’t know us personally, trust me – the child has plenty to wear.  For some reason, she didn’t appreciate it when I proved this fact to her by pulling out a pair of shorts and a shirt for her.  The second cry came while she was brushing her hair in the bathroom; when I went in to investigate, I discovered her brushing her hair so hard with the hairbrush that it almost amounted to her hitting her head with the hairbrush.  Further inquiry established that the problem was that neither her bangs, nor a section of hair would lie down flat.  Although my suggestion that she use some “no tangle” spray on the rebellious sections was scorned at first, I noticed that the problem was fixed exactly the way I had suggested.  When she finally came out of the bathroom, she announced she was not going to have breakfast at home because she was sure they were going to have cheese grits for breakfast at school.  The third sulk (not a cry, because Mark was out in the great room by then, too) was over the fact that I refused to let her take ginger ale in a thermos to school.  School rules specifically state that soft drinks are not allowed, so we made her pour it out.  She decided to take lemon-lime Gatorade instead, but absolutely insisted on pouring into a thermos.  When I asked why, she said that all her friends drank their drinks in cool containers like that, and she wanted to do likewise.  She chose to take the thermos we purchased the one time we took her on an overnight cruise, so I suspect she will be the only child at school drinking her drink from a Royal Caribbean insulated tumbler.

Mark finally managed to cheer her up before they left, but we were definitely having a Monday morning on Friday!

Kaylas Spring School Picture (Age 9)

Have a great day and weekend everyone!

Nancy