Forgive me

I extend my heartfelt apologies to the approximately five non-family members/ friends who read my blog. I've been AWOL these past four days in large part because my dog, Luka, came down with a horrible case of bronchitis and his non-stop coughing has prevented either of us from getting much sleep. For me, little sleep results in not getting much of anything done during the daylight hours including keeping up with my blog. I don't have any experience taking care of sick children, but I can say with absolute certainty that caring for a sick dog is no fun.

It all started Thursday afternoon when I became convinced Luka was choking on a small piece of granola-like Kashi cereal that I gave him. I'll spare you the gory details (picture Linda Blair in the Exorcist), but I was freaked out enough to take him to the animal emergency room at 10 that night. Despite having to pull the car over once due to all the throwing up, as soon as we walked into the clinic Luka's tail started wagging and he clambered up on the reception desk to greet the vet tech who checked us in. The timing of his "recovery" couldn't have been worse: Because there appeared to be nothing wrong with my dog and the clinic practices triage medicine (as it should since it is an emergency room) we were shown the back of the two-plus hour line. Aaarrggghhhh! Thank goodness my mom was there to keep us entertained. Anyway, the emergency room vet ascertained that a) Luka's vitals were normal; b) due to his behavior his condition wasn't life-threatening and c) since he never once coughed or threw up while at the emergency room there really was no telling what the problem might be. After pumping Luka full of fluids and giving him a shot of something to "settle his stomach", we returned home where my dog promptly resumed throwing up for the rest of the night. Good times! The next afternoon, Luka's regular vet determined that he was suffering from tracheal bronchitis and prescribed an antibiotic and the doggie version of Robitussin. He's been on both for three days now and I think/ hope he's getting a little better. He's still coughing, but had enough energy this morning to go for a little walk and to shred an emtpy Diet Coke carton. Hopefully we'll both be able to get some good sleep tonight and my desire to blog will return. Keep your fingers crossed...

Blame it on Colorado

I've got a problem.

I've come down with a major case of Autumn Fever. Not Spring Fever (from which I rarely suffer), but Autumn Fever. You may be familiar with some of the symptoms: a) a longing for the leaves to turn colors sooner rather than later; b)an almost-overwhelming urge to yank up my still-vibrant impatiens and replace them with orange and brick red mums; and c) a hankering to bake a pumpin pie and burn pumpkin-scented candles.

Right now I'm drinking a Harvest Moon Pumpkin Ale, but it isn't scratching my itch. In fact, it doesn't taste remotely like pumpkins or even pumpkin spice. I think I'll write a strongly worded letter to Blue Moon Brewing Company stating as much. To all of you who are tempted to buy this brew because of its attractive packaging, I predict you'll be as disappointed as I am. But I digress...

I know I'd be fine with the Midwest summer we're still in the throes of if I hadn't just returned from spending a week in the Colorado Rockies. The mornings in the mountains were cool and crisp, and here and there groves of quaking aspen were just beginning to turn golden. On Monday morning we awoke to a thin layer of white stuff covering majestic Long's Peak and its neighbors, which according to the Rocky Mountain News was the first measurable snowfall of the season. There was enough snow in the morning to warrant the closing of Trail Ridge Road (located above the treeline) in Rocky Mountain National Park, though it was open again to traffic by 1PM.

36 hours later I was back home. From sweatshirts and jeans to t-shirts and shorts. Ugh.

If we're lucky, it'll only be another month or so before it is sweater weather again. I, for one, can't wait. Maybe tonight I'll turn the a/c down to 65, eat a pumpkin muffin or two, and pretend I'm back in the Rockies. But this time with my dog.

Prizes

There's a popular saying in the Midwest, "If you don't like the weather, just wait an hour." While it is true that it can storm in the morning but be sunny and inviting in the afternoon, the changeable weather in my hometown has nothing on the weather in the Rocky Mountains. In my current locale, I watched yesterday's weather go from sunny and mild to a downpour complete with hail in the space of five minutes. Seriously. Thankfully I was watching the activity from the comfort of our rented home's living room window-- sort of like television-- but other family members experienced it up close and personal while hiking. I chose not to go yesterday because my thighs were still on fire from the "moderate" hike we were on the day before, the one where we ascended 1000' in 1.8 miles, mostly at the very end when I truly thought I was going to throw up. Good times. But the prize at the end-- a pretty little lake-- and the sense of accomplishment of doing something few other Midwesterners can boast of doing was well worth it. But I'm going to try the hiking thing again today, despite the drizzle and fog that awaits outside. I've been told that this trail is much easier plus there will be a beer waiting for me at the completition of the hike. Bring it on!

Epiphany!

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Although they are my emotions and by rights I should be able to control to whom they are revealed, I just can't. I've had quite a few years to practice mastering control and yet I still feel as if I'm a passenger rather than the driver. Of something that belongs to me! It is both a blessing and a curse.

I realize that not everyone is able to show their feelings. There are some who are so regimented or damaged that they are either unable or unwilling to reveal a crack in their armor to anyone. In some demented way I envy those people. Shedding tears is sort of an all-purpose reaction in my world. I can cry when I'm sad, frightened, angry, or joyful. There are certain people (family, close friends) and situations (movies, funerals, poetry readings, etc.) in which it's okay to shed a few public tears, but not enough to cover the people and situations in which mine have overflowed. But that's okay. I think I've found a way to put a positive spin on what has been, upon occasion, a rather vexing and embarrassing personality trait. As the saying goes, "If you can't beat them, join them."

One of the reasons I quit the cut-and-dry world of residential real estate is just that-- it was too cut and dry. A property would go under contract and then it would close. Sure, there might be a rather unfortunate episode or two between the building inspection negotiations and funding, but for the most part a real estate transaction is an extremely regimented process. After 12 years of it, I yearn for something into which I can really sink my teeth and reveal my authentic, emotional self. Since it is extremely unlikely that I will ever be able to control the intensity of my feelings, I've come to realize that it may just be possible to channel them to help those who need it most, to harness the passion within me to benefit a cause that inspires those emotions to overflow. I want to give a voice to the voiceless.

Any suggestions???

Guardian

The pewter token I've chosen to write about is "guardian", a word that conjures up many emotions for me. In fact, I've been struggling with this post for two days. I briefly considered discussing the incident when my own guardian angel saved me from what I know with every fiber of my being was a life-endangering, if not life-ending, situation. I've shared the details of this experience with only a handful of those closest to me, and don't feel inclined to share it with anyone else for the time being. Besides, in my opinion the word "guardian" applies to a much broader and more public group of people: our nation's military men and women.

Sometimes when I feel so strongly about something I find that I have difficulty expressing myself. Such is the case when I think of those serving in the military. These people are the heart and soul of our country, the guardians of the ideals upon which our nation was founded. Yet six years after 9/11 they don't get nearly as much daily attention and appreciation from the American public and media as they deserve. More often than not, the only mention they receive on the news is in the general terms of daily casualty reports. In that context it is easy to forget that each fatality was an individual who knowingly and willingly gave the ultimate sacrifice to further our nation's ideals.

Part of the problem is that only a small percentage of Americans have personal knowledge of someone serving in our all-volunteer military. I counted myself among that crowd until I began dating an active duty soldier in late 2002. After at least three false starts, Matt and his unit finally deployed to Iraq in early April 2003. He was there for seven long months during which time I had only sporadic contact with him. A letter every couple of weeks (for some inexplicable reason, he didn't have email access), a brief and sometimes chaotic middle of the night phone call every now and then. I felt like I was always waiting-- for a letter, a phone call, for the other shoe to drop. Fortunately the aforementionned shoe remained firmly in place until after Matt came home but that's a story for another day. Suffice it to say that I have incredible empathy for service members (as well as their families) who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Like those who suffer debilitating physical injuries, the lives of the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines (as well as their families) who are victims of psychological damage will forever be altered. Still all reports that I've read--including the most recent released today by the Department of Defense--indicate that military retention rates are incredibly high, and most months the various branches meet their recruiting goals. In other words, despite the obvious dangers and risks involved in serving during war time, people are still volunteering to serve. They are fighting and dying, in part, to guard the rights of all Americans as outlined in the Bill of Rights including the right to publically protest the war. If you are curious about what are troops are really doing in Afghanistan and Iraq, there are two sites I recommend you peruse: http://gocomics.typepad.com/the_sandbox/ and http://milblogging.com/. Both sites contain posts and links to blogs written by soldiers, airmen, sailors, and marines who are in the thick of it and for the most part don't mince words.

Regardless of how we feel about the choices made by our government, we owe it to our military men and women to take care of them during and after deployment. You don't have to have a personal connection to a service member to do this, as all sorts of organizations have sprung up in the last six years devoted to supporting the troops via care packages, letter writing campaigns, cash donations, etc. My current favorite is http://asoldierswishlist.org/ in which civilians can "adopt" a deployed service member by sending care packages and/or letters. So far I've been paired with three different soldiers and have sent items ranging from boot socks and auto fuses to homemade cookies and nail polish. The letters I've received in return provide a fascinating peak into the daily lives of those who help to guard my freedom. I strongly encourage each of us to do something to show our support to these brave men and women. It is the very least we can do for those who have volunteered to guard our rights.

Gratitude

If you read yesterday's post, you'll know that from time to time I'm going to write about a word engraved on one of the pewter tokens given to me by my mom. Last night I wrote about some of the "delights" in my life. Tonight I'm going to focus on those things for which I am grateful. As was the case last night, I'm certain that as soon as I hit "publish post" I'm going to remember 50 other things I should have listed but because I'm human and not a robot it appears to be unavoidable. As my grandmother says over and over again every day, "So be it."


* My family (parents, sister, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins): I truly believe I have the best support system anyone could as for. My uncles and grandfathers stepped up and provided what my father couldn't, my aunts have been wonderful teachers, and I count my cousins among my closest friends.

* My maternal grandparents' farm: I did a lot of growing up there and experienced things I never would've in the city.

* Childhood summers in Michigan: So many memories (most of them good, Mom).

* My pets: Life is much more bearable and entertaining with animals in it.

* My former employer: She taught me what it means to be a good boss and will be the yardstick by which I measure all future employers.

* My friends: I couldn't have made it as far as I have without their understanding, support, and twisted senses of humor.

* My own twisted sense of humor: Inappropriate though it may be at times, for the most part it has served me well. Trust me, I wouldn't have survived as long as I did at my last job without it!

* My education: Major kudos to my parents for providing me with a top-notch education. I hope to actually use it in my next career!

* Empathy: Sometimes it's a good thing, other times it drags me down into the dumps because I can't turn it off. All in all, I'd rather have it than not.

* Diet Coke: Have I admitted that I have a one-a-day habit? I don't consider my morning complete without one.

* Having loved once and lost: It made me realize that it is possible to survive something that is incredibly complicated and painful and come out stronger for the experience.

* That I haven't injured anyone or been injured in a car accident: Driving can be really scary!

* Our military men and women and their families: Soldiers, airmen, marines and their loved ones deserve our gratitude for the sacrifices each are willing to make in the interest of our country.

* Chocolate: Milk chocolate is my favorite but I can also choke down dark chocolate when I absolutely have no choice. See, I can be flexible.

* Bottoming out emotionally and academically at the first university I attended: If I hadn't, I never would've ended up at the local university where I had wanted to go in the first place. That school turned out to be a much better fit and I was extremely happy there.

* Working at the concession stand at the zoo when I was in high school: I made a ton of friends there that I never would've otherwise met. To this day I still smile when I think about our adventures.

* My friends' children: Just like their parents, the children are incredibly entertaining.

* My ability to spell: I truly believe that you either can do it or you can't. I can (most of the time) and it has almost made up for my complete inability to do anything mathematical.

* My high school English teachers: They helped instill in me my love of the written word.

* Peanut butter: Even the worst situation is bearable with a spoonful or two of regular peanut butter (preferably mixed with a few semi-sweet chocolate chips).


I've reviewed this list a couple of times and am fairly satisfied that it accurately represents what I am most grateful for in my life. As I stated before, I know that as soon as I hit "publish post" I'll remember something else that I should have included, but I'll just have to take the chance. As you can probably see, so far I've been blessed with a very rich life. I have every intention of keeping it that way.

A Different Approach

Tempting though it is due, tonight I'm not going to write about Luka, though I have included a photo of him in this entry. The other photo is of Sammi and Crash, two of other three dogs who've been in my life. They were such loves. But I digress...

Several years ago, my mom gave me and my sister each a pretty little bag (see first photo) containing ten pewter tokens engraved with various words and phrases that she felt were worthy of reflection (second photo-- may be hard to read the actual words): Loyal; believe; gratitude; guardian; delight; hope; follow your heart; discover; explore; and wisdom. Though I have taken out the tokens occassionally and thought about what the words on them mean to me, I've never actually put those thoughts on paper. Now seems like a perfect time to do so.

The word I'm going to address this evening is "delight" which is defined as "something that gives great pleasure". Please note that the following list is by no means all-inclusive or in any particular order:

* Luka (big surprise, I know);
* Dove milk chocolate;
* Diet Coke (I have a one-a-day habit);
* rocks (whenever friends of family travel anywhere and ask what they should bring back for me, I always say-- and mean-- rocks. I love to think about the events leading up to their creation. Plus, it makes me giggle to think about how confused an archeologist will be 100s of years from now when she finds rocks in "the nation's midsection" that previously had only been found in the Persian Gulf region and Australia);
* spending time anywhere in the Great Lakes region (I have LOTS of rocks from Lake Huron);
* s'mores for breakfast (but only if the marshmellows are roasted in a fireplace or firepit);
* reading aloud the speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. (he was doubly blessed as a phenomenal wordsmith and a riveting orator. I highly, highly recommend a trip to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. For more information go to www.civilrightsmuseum.org);
* Shasta Daisies and Black-Eyed Susans together in the same flower bed;
* Burt's Bees beeswax lip balm (I try never to leave the house-- ever-- without it);
* all four of my grandparents (I've been lucky enough to know each of them very well);
* my friends' children (and my friends, of course!!);
* my mom and sister (duh!!)
* recycling (makes me feel like I'm doing something to reduce the size of the footprint I'll inevitably leave behind when I die);
* writing;
* touching and smelling the herbs at my local botanical garden;
* baking pumpkin pies (there are more spices in this pie than most and combining them is so much fun);
* flannel pjs on a cold winter's night;
* Luka sleeping on my bed (but only when it's cold);
* picking apples (and then making apple crisp).

No doubt as soon as I hit "publish" I'll think of 1o0 other things to add to this list, but you get the idea. Apparently my life is quite delight-ful.

Doggie Pool Part-ay!!

From the lowest of lows to the highest of highs, Luka the dog has had a very eventful 24 hours. I'm pleased-- actually relieved-- to report that the stomach problems that kept both of us up for most of last night appear to be a thing of the past, though I may need some therapy to help erase the memory of it. In the words of my cousin, Mandy, upon returning from a rather unfortunate experience at Girl Scout Camp: "I'll tell you one thing, I don't want to do that again." It. Was. That. Bad.

To celebrate his return to good health, this afternoon my mom and I took Luka to my neighborhood pool to participate in what has become a most beloved end-of-summer ritual: The doggie pool party! I'm embarrassed to admit that this was Luka's first time in the water. Yes, I'm aware he's a Labrador Retriever and that he's probably the first in his entire line to have been forced to wait nine whole years before setting foot in the water. But he's experienced it now, so you can hang up with the doggie abuse hotline. Please hang up. Thank you.

Luka had a blast, as these photos attest. For those of you who've never attended one of these things, the best way to describe it is controlled chaos. There are dogs and people everywhere-- sniffing, running, swimming, and fetching-- but everyone is really happy so it's fine. I swear Luka didn't stop smiling the entire time, except for when he fell off a narrow ledge between two pools and found himself having to doggie paddle for the first time ever. When I jumped in and helped guide him to where he could stand he was smiling again as if to say "No harm done". The last photo is my favorite because it is so Luka, who is always ready for his next meal. I call it "Mr. Nosy looking for an after-swim snack". And you know what? He deserved one (and got four).

UPDATE: All's Right Again With Luka's World

As evident from the above photos, four hours of R&R (and a light breakfast of dry food and a little brown rice) have done wonders for Luka both physically and psychologically. He's ready to play! His mom, however, isn't feeling quite so peppy. I'm going back to bed...

Up with a sick dog

It's almost 2:30AM and my dog, Luka, and I are still up.

Looks like it's going to be a long night for both of us because Luka has an upset stomach. As all good moms know (of both children and pets), if baby ain't happy then nobody's happy. And Luka definitely isn't happy. So far he's thrown up four times-- the most recent a few minutes ago on the backseat of my car. Stupid, stupid, stupid me! If anyone-- be it human or animal-- has an upset stomach the last thing one should do to try to settle them down is to voluntarily put them in a car and subject them to speeds of 30MPH. Of course they're going to throw up!!! He must have eaten something BAD on one of our walks today. He often grabs a quick "snack" from someone's yard before I have the chance to stop him, but whatever he ate today must have been especially vile. In spite of the fact that he's sleeping just a few feet from me, I can clearly hear his stomach make horrible gurgly noises. How anyone can sleep through that racket I'll never understand, but Luka's eyes ARE closed and he's breathing the slow, even breaths of sleep. Another thing I don't understand is why these stomach issues only manifest themselves in the
middle of the night. I can't recall the last time he had a problem during the daylight hours. Maybe it takes a while for the "snack" to fester, sort of like a fine wine. If that's the case, this bad boy is going to be an award winner.

It's going to be a long night. I need a Diet Coke.

There really are no words...

This is the view from my kitchen windown approximately 45 minutes ago. Yes, it IS a photo of a redneck sitting on a commode on the deck of the house behind me that has been in the process of being "rehabbed" for close to a year. And no, I DON'T think he's attending to any urgent business other than talking on his cell phone.

Tonight I'm going put a roll of TP and perhaps a magazine next to the toilet for the next hoosier who takes a load off (so to speak)because that's just the kind of neighbor I am!

Small But Mighty

Happy Labor Day, America. Hope you've enjoyed your bonus day. I've spent mine laboring around the house-- straightening up, organizing, vacuuming, dusting, etc. No air shows or food fesitvals for me. Just good old American hard work from someone who hasn't put in a whole lot of it in the last month, at least not in the physical sense. Being voluntarily unemployed and having the pressure of trying to come up with a career that will make me feel that I'm making our world a better place (again, totally my choice to go this route) isn't for sissies, though I know that the really hard work will come when I start working with my life/career coach again next month. Right now I'm still having fun being "a lady of leisure".

To that end, since the weather has been unseasonably cool recently I've been spending a lot of time sitting out on my patio watching life happen around me. Despite the fact that for the last year or so the house directly behind me is being rehabbed and as a former real estate agent such things used to interest me, what I find more fascinating these days is the activity around my hummingbird feeder. If you've ever seen a hummingbird they appear to be quite delicate and sweet. They are tiny little things who, I believe, are the only birds capable of "simply" hovering for any amount of time. When they do this, their wings flap so fast you can barely see them-- they appear only as a blur. It's really cool to see these beautiful creatures stop in midair, hover, and start again in the opposite direction in two quick blinks of an eye. What is equally fascinating to me is their behavior around my feeder. These dudes are warriors. If another approaches while the feeder is occupied, the occupier will fly at the invader with amazing tenacity. Most of the time the invader knows he's been beat and backs off, but upon occasion a brief ballet of aerial warfare ensues. They buzz one another, they beep, and as quickly as it starts it ends, the victor (usually the bird who was at the feeder first) returning to defend its turf against the next attack but not always to feed. I'm looking out my window right now at one just sitting on top of the feeder-- it hasn't tried to feed in more than a minute-- simply keeping an eye out for the competition. These birds appear to me to be territorial for the thrill of the fight, rather than for sake of survival. Kind of like people, don't you think? Hmmm...

Yippee!

I can at least scratch one worry off of last night's list of random thoughts-- my favorite military blogger has re-surfaced! I can't tell you how relieved I was to see his latest post, in spite of the news it contained. For those who are curious, you too can follow John's adventures as a communications director for an Air Force unit based in Afghanistan at http://blog.myspace.com/foreignhost. Not only is he an excellent writer with a good sense of humor, but he also is a very talented photographer. I promise that even the most educated individuals will learn something from John's blog. Enjoy!!!!

Random Thoughts

Ok, confession time: I think I like taking a drive in the evening as much as, if not more, than my dog.

He likes the sniffs and the feeling of the wind blowing his ears back and I like listening to my favorite CDs and letting whatever thoughts I have just wash over me. It isn't like I can't do both of these things in the privacy of my own home, but they just seem more pleasant when I'm driving. And that's the key, I think. I have to be driving (can't be a passenger) and only my dog can accompany me (can't have a passenger). Weird, huh?

Here are a few thoughts that crossed my mind as I was driving tonight (in no particular order):

• I love the uncharacteristic cool spell my city is experiencing. I was actually able to have my a/c off and windows up for most of today which is EXTREMELY unusual for this time of year. I'm hoping it will last, but know it won't, so I'm just trying to focus on loving it while it lasts.
• I'm worried about my sister. She's going through a rough spell right now and I wish there was something I could do to really, truly help take away her pain and anxiety.
• I wonder if I could ever leave my hometown and make a life somewhere else where I don't have family. I know lots of people have done it, but I don't know if I could leave this place where I have so much history. I don't really even know if I want to.
• I'm concerned about one of my favorite military bloggers who hasn't posted for five days. His unit is currently serving in a part of Afghanistan where there has been some insurgent activity in the last few days. Unless he posts again, I don't know how to find out if he's okay or if he's been injured. It is amazing how attached I can become to someone I've never met in person. Guess that goes to prove that in my world, the written word is pretty powerful stuff.
• I have a headache. This may or may not be a direct result of the beer I had with dinner (I'm such a lightweight).
• One of my favorite sounds in the world is the deep sigh my dog makes right before he drifts off to sleep for the night. Right now, however, I'm not so enamoured with all the licking he's doing. Even though he's only licking his paw, if it goes on long enough it starts to gross me out. Like now. Please, baby, no more licking!

Tah dah! Those are my thoughts at the moment. More later...