Things have been rather hectic lately, so I’m thinking a good way to celebrate the new year is by taking another short break from the blogging world. I’ll be back soon, eager to catch up with everyone. Thanks for understanding!!!
Things have been rather hectic lately, so I’m thinking a good way to celebrate the new year is by taking another short break from the blogging world. I’ll be back soon, eager to catch up with everyone. Thanks for understanding!!!
As my regular readers know, I hate being sick. So I was deeply unhappy when I realized that the sore throat and stuffy nose I came down with last Monday wasn’t, as I had hoped, an allergic reaction to spending Sunday afternoon taking down our Christmas tree. It was a real cold. The good news was that I felt a little bit better with each passing day…until last night, when I began to lose my voice. I couldn’t talk at all by this morning, so I went to the local urgent care clinic for help.
It turned out to be inflamed vocal cords which should go away soon, and I’m already feeling much better. Partly because they gave me a steroid shot for the inflammation, but mostly because the staff that I dealt with at the clinic were so professional and kind. They listened to what I had to say, answered my questions, and explained exactly what my treatment would be. In short, they were ordinary people who took the time to do their job well, and that helped enormously.
I’ve reached the age where I’ve known too many good people who have died, and even more people who are mourning the loss of their own loved ones. So it shouldn’t have been a shock when my husband received a text from the wife of our handyman telling us that he had died of a sudden heart attack. But it was.
We’ve known Mike for many years, and liked him very much. He did high-quality work, and was friendly, dependable, and the sort of person who could fix or build just about anything. Mike did a lot of projects for us, and also worked on our son’s house, our daughter’s house and my mother’s house. You don’t spend that much time with someone and not get to know him fairly well, especially someone who likes to talk, as Mike did. He told us about his wife, whom he loved dearly, and about his beloved granddaughter, whom he adored. We knew he loved his dogs, and was an avid hunter and fisherman.
One way or another, my husband spent a lot of time talking to Mike, asking for his advice on various projects and often just “shooting the breeze.” I think it’s safe to say that the relationship between the two of them moved beyond employer/employee to real friendship. At least I know that’s the way my husband felt.
I’m not sharing this because I’m looking for sympathy for our loss, because that should be reserved for Mike’s family and close friends, who are in deep mourning. I’m sharing this because I think it’s important for us all to remember just how much good ordinary people doing their jobs well can do, and how much of a positive impact they can make on the people around them.
The people who get most of the attention aren’t really the important ones, in my opinion. It’s people like Mike and the staff I encountered at the urgent care clinic who really count. It’s the ones who are kind and honest, and who do their jobs to the best of their ability, and who are always ready to lend a hand when needed who are the people who truly make the world a better place. And I believe that they are the ones whose example the rest of us would do well to follow….
I know it sounds trite, but I honestly can’t believe that 2019 is already over. I know I’ve reached the age where time seems to go by at warp speed, but I’m still having a hard time accepting that we are now into a brand-new year.
Part of the problem is probably that this past year has been an especially busy one, in both good ways and bad. It was a good year for travel, with a relaxing family vacation in Florida and several visits to out-of-town family and friends. The highlight was a wonderful cruise on the Rhine River last May that enabled us to visit four different countries and sail along the famously scenic Rhine Gorge. We also welcomed a new dog into our home, which is both a joy and an adjustment as we all learn each other’s ways. (He’s taught us not to leave food unattended, and we’re trying to teach him that furniture is off-limits for dogs.)
The biggest challenge, by far, was my mother’s decision to move into a small apartment in a nearby retirement community. It was absolutely the right decision, but it involved a tremendous amount of time and work to get her packed up and moved into her new home. And then we had to go through all the stuff she and my father had accumulated during their lifetime and decide what to do with it all. (Note to self: get rid of all unnecessary possessions. Immediately. Don’t saddle our kids with this task.) Getting the house ready for it’s new owners was the next step, which involved lots of cleaning, painting, updating, and dealing with a few unpleasant discoveries such as the impressive mold growth under the kitchen sink from an undetected leak.
All in all, the past few months have been such a whirlwind of activity that the holidays basically sneaked up on me this year, and by the time I got into the Christmas spirit, they were almost over. Can it truly be time to take the Christmas tree down when it seems as if I just put it up yesterday? Thank goodness for the traditions that we observe each year, because those provide the memories that make the holidays so special and real, even during the years that they rush by a little too quickly.
And thank goodness for the changes that each year brings, too. It’s comforting to know that Mom is so happy in her new apartment, with a support system that she needs at this stage of her life. It’s fun to see my daughter and son-in-law buying my mom’s old house and making it into their own family home. Best of all was the special present we received from my son and daughter-in-law on Christmas morning: the news that we’re going to be adding another grandchild to our family this coming June.
So while I might not have been quite ready to say good-by to 2019, I’m not really sorry that it’s over. I’ll treasure the good memories and try hard to remember the lessons I learned from the challenges. But mostly, I’ll look forward into 2020 and do my best to make it a very good year. Happy New Year to you all!
I already wrote a post about how much I loved Thanksgiving, but I have to tell you that I loved Christmas even more! It began when Mom started baking Christmas cookies in early December, and I learned that if I sat and stared at her with big, pitiful eyes, she would usually let me have a little taste of one. I also learned that Mom is a bit of klutz who often drops stuff on the floor when she’s cooking, and that if I move really fast, I can snatch it up and eat it before she stops me. So one way or another, I got to sample every batch of cookies that came out of the kitchen.
Even better, I heard that if I was a really, really, good dog (and I am, because snarfing up cookies that are spilled on the floor doesn’t count as being bad), I could expect a gift or two from Santa Dog on Christmas morning. I even got my very own stocking to hang on the mantle so that Santa Dog would be sure to remember me.
I also found out that Christmas isn’t celebrated on just one day. My parents had lots of friends and family over all through December, and all of those visits meant delicious food was served. The best part was that not all of the guests believed in my parents’ “no food for dogs at the table” rule, so lots of them slipped me a little tidbit when they thought my parents weren’t looking. And afterwards, I was always in the kitchen to lend a paw in cleaning up and dealing with the leftovers.
There was just one part of Christmas that I didn’t really care for. About a week before Christmas day, Mom told me that I needed a bath because I smelled. And she was right, I did have a distinct aroma…a blend of wet fur, all the things in the yard I found to roll in, and a general doggie odor. In other words, I smelled great! Why she thought I needed a bath, I’ll never know, but she hauled me to the nearest dog wash and plunked me right in the tub. The less said about the actual bath, the better. I’ve heard the mind has a way of blocking out traumatic experiences, and I’m hoping that is true. Except for the part where Mom accidentally turned on the water when she had the nozzle pointed right at her face, because that was pretty funny.
The best part of Christmas, though, was the actual day. I went to bed extra early the night before because I heard Santa Dog only comes if you’re asleep, and I didn’t even budge from my dog bed when Mom and Dad came home late from the Christmas Eve service. And it worked! I had two toys under the tree and some dog biscuits in my stocking on Christmas morning. We also had family over for opening presents and breakfast, which was delicious. Later that afternoon, my two doggie cousins came over to play and we had a terrific time running all over the yard.
Getting together with friends and family, sharing delicious food and cookies, getting wonderful presents…..how could I possibly not love Christmas? It’s my favorite holiday, and I can’t wait to do it all over again next year!!
Many years ago, when I was in seventh or eighth grade, I remember buying a teen magazine that had an article in it about how to be more popular. Like most kids that age, I definitely wanted to be more popular, and so I eagerly read the article. I remember one paragraph in particular that went something like, “Forget all that advice about just ‘being yourself!’ What’s so special about being yourself? If you want more people to like you, you need to figure out how to fit in with the crowd!”
I may have been a typical early teenager, struggling with raging hormones, self-doubt and all the other issues that go with that difficult phase of life, I was still horrified by what I read. Even then, I knew that there was something very wrong with the advice to bury my true identity and simply copy the behavior I saw all around me in order to have more friends. I’d like to say that from that moment on, I stopped worrying about what others thought about me and always spoke and acted according to my own conscience, but that would be a lie. In my defense, I was very young and still unsure of so many things, including who I really was and what I really believed.
But now that I’m all grown up (and then some), I no longer have that excuse. One of the benefits of aging is that we begin to understand exactly who we are and we tend to know exactly what we do and do not believe. Yet there are still times when I struggle to live according to my own principles, and still hesitate to show my true self or share my true opinions, mostly out of fear of how others are going to react if I do.
Sadly, the times we live in encourages this sort of fear because we’re conditioned to only accept those people who are “just like us.” And so we keep quiet about any aspect of our personality or any of our beliefs that we think might cause someone else to reject us. I don’t like to tell people I’m a political Independent, because I’ve found that as soon as someone discovers you don’t support their party, they automatically believe you really (if secretly) support the opposing party. I often hesitate to tell people I’m a Christian, because there is such a variety of beliefs in Christianity that I’m afraid they’ll misunderstand what I actually believe. I could go on, but you get the picture.
Still, I think the time has come for me to stop being so afraid of rejection (or conflict) that I hide some of who I really am and what I really think. I guess I’ve reached the age where I’d like to have the courage to live according to my own values, and just accept the reaction that gets. Plus, I try very hard to accept other people for who they really are, and pride myself on having close friends and family whose beliefs are very different from mine. If I’m willing to accept other people’s true selves, then shouldn’t I give other people the chance to do the same for me?
I’ve always liked that saying, “just be yourself–everyone else is already taken!” Words to live by……
I’ve been blogging for five years now, and when you do something for five years, you’re bound to learn a thing or two. To begin with, I learned that time really does fly when you’re having fun, because it just doesn’t seem as if five whole years have gone by since I started this blog. I can still remember how I struggled to figure out how to create a blog, and how I felt both nervous and proud when I finally managed to publish my first blog post.
It wasn’t long before I realized that the blog stats I checked so obsessively really didn’t mean all that much, because they weren’t particularly accurate. I have many regular readers who don’t follow my blog, and I have even more followers who never read a single post. I also noticed that the posts I liked best weren’t always the ones that generated the most views. Eventually, I figured out that what made writing a particular post most worthwhile was when one of my readers was kind enough to let me know that my writing spoke to them. Because face it, if something we write touches even one person in a significant way, then that post was well worth the effort.
I sometimes have trouble embracing change, but blogging has taught me that change is not always a bad thing. I think all bloggers enjoy having a core group of “blogging friends” who read and support each other’s blogs, and I was lucky enough to find such a group early on. I’m not at all sure I would have stuck with my blog without their encouragement. But most of the people in my initial core group have dropped out of Word Press, and been replaced by other new friends who have ventured into the blogging world. The blogging community is constantly changing, and I’ve learned to accept that and be grateful for each new connection it brings me.
Blogging has also made me much less cynical, because it’s taught me that, despite what the news media would have us believe, most people are basically good. When I first started blogging, I was very intimidated by the fact that readers would be able to comment directly on my posts. I was quite sure I was going to have to deal with lots of spam and nasty responses. But 99% of the comments I’ve received have been positive. And they usually generate interesting discussions among people who seem to be both kind and intelligent, and willing to be share their experience and knowledge. That’s the sort of thing that gives me hope for our world.
Finally, the most important thing my blog has taught me is to be willing to take a risk now and then, especially when it involves something I’ve always wanted to do. If I hadn’t worked up the nerve to hit that “publish” button for the first time, I would have missed out on so much just because I was too afraid to try something new. And the past five years wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun…..
From the very minute that I was adopted from the animal shelter, I had a feeling I was going to really, really like living with my new family. And I was right. I’ve got my own bed, my own crate, a basket full of dog toys and a big yard to run around in. I have two doggie cousins, Frankie and Roxy, who sometimes come over to play with me. Plus, I’ve got my parents trained to be very generous with the dog biscuits…they even use them to “bribe” me to go outside for a potty break when it’s raining. All in all, I’ve been pretty darned happy with my new family and thought that things couldn’t possibly get any better. But they did!
I didn’t know much about holidays before I came to live here, so I had no idea what I was missing. Turns out, there’s a holiday called Thanksgiving, and we celebrated it yesterday. I knew something good was going to happen when Mom put a big turkey in the oven to bake, and then spent the next few hours in the kitchen, making even more food. The house smelled so good that I could hardly stand it!
But things got even better when the rest of the family showed up. Because get this: every single one of them showed up with some sort of food! From what I can tell, Thanksgiving is a holiday that is all about food and sharing it with friends and family. How cool is that? We started in the afternoon with lots of appetizers (I made sure I got my share), and then everyone sat down at the big table that was loaded with all the rest of the food, including that fabulous turkey. I sat right beside the little guy in the high chair, because I knew I could count on him to drop some tasty tidbits my way. Finally, when everyone crowded in the kitchen to clean up, I helped dispose of anything that was left on their plates. I know it’s my job to help whenever I can, but it’s especially nice to be able to combine business with pleasure.
Frankly, I’d be a little sad right now that it’s all over if I hadn’t discovered that there’s another holiday coming up in a few weeks. It’s called Christmas, and I’ve heard it also involves a lot of extra food, especially cookies. Of course I’m all in favor of that!
In addition to the food, Christmas seems to require putting up lots of lights and decorations, which is fine with me. But I really got excited when I saw the big tree that Dad put up in the living room. I know exactly what that’s for, and I can hardly believe my good luck. They’ve given me my very own indoor bathroom! No more going out in the cold and rain when I need to pee….how thoughtful is that? And that’s not all. They’re going to put all these shiny balls all over it, and I love balls! I can hardly wait to take them off and play with them.
It’s too early to compare, but it just might be that I’m going to love Christmas even more than I loved Thanksgiving!
I think all of us have times when we feel as if we’re on a treadmill, and someone keeps turning the speed up higher and higher. Those times when there just doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day to get through even half of our “to do” list, and we fall into bed each night exhausted and already fretting about all the things we have to accomplish tomorrow. For some reason, Fall always seems to be one of those times for me, and this year is no exception.
I’m sure part of the problem is that the days are growing steadily shorter and that there is so much to do in order to get our yard ready for Winter and our house ready for the upcoming holidays. My husband and I are also spending a lot of time getting my mother’s old house ready for its new owners and dealing with all the little glitches that always arise at times like these. (It took us two months to realize that some of the utility bills for her house have gone AWOL.) Add these extras to our usual day-to-day responsibilities, and I suppose it’s no wonder we’re feeling a bit overwhelmed.
But I know all those things are just part of the problem. And the rest of the problem rests squarely on my shoulders. Because I have a long-standing and very unhealthy habit of taking on too much and hanging on to too much. My intentions are good….I want to be a supportive friend, a good neighbor, a dependable family member, and basically just the sort of person that others know they can count on for help, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Within reason, of course. But the problem is, sometimes I forget to be reasonable.
I tend to forget that there are limits to how much responsibility I can take on and still retain a sense of well-being. I seem to need constant reminders that when I try to “be there” for everyone, I usually end up satisfying no one, least of all myself. I need to learn that there’s no such thing as a perfect friend or relative, and that as long as I am doing my best, those who truly care about me will be okay with that.
I suspect that self-care and setting healthy boundaries will always be a process for me, and that’s okay. I’d rather be too generous with my time and resources than too selfish. But I also want to respect my limits, and learn to say “no” to obligations and needs that I truly can’t meet without stretching myself too thin. I need to let go of my natural inclination to rush in and try to fix things, all the time. Because let’s face it, it’s both arrogant and short-sighted of me to believe that I’m the only one who can step up when help is required.
And who knows? Maybe I’ll get to the point where next Fall is just a little bit more relaxed, and therefore more enjoyable for me and also for the people who would rather not have to deal with me when I’m stressed and crabby. That certainly strikes me as a worthy goal….
I don’t think anyone loves Christmas more than I do. I love the lights, the smell of a real Christmas tree, the music, the cookies, the cards, the parties, and even the shopping. Christmas is the one holiday I really look forward to each year, and have ever since I can remember. But here’s the thing: the last time I checked, Christmas doesn’t actually come until December 25.
I still remember standing on our front lawn one night with my father, looking at at the Christmas lights on the house across the street. “Now that’s really pushing the season!” my father told me, shaking his head in disgust. He couldn’t believe that anyone would put their Christmas lights up on December 1st. I wonder what my father would have said about the woman I recently saw happily stringing lights and bells across her fence on November 1st. Then again, I probably know exactly what he would have said, and it wouldn’t have been complimentary.
Personally, I think my father may have been a little bit too strict in holding off on his Christmas celebrations. (The first year my parents were married, he didn’t look for a tree until late Christmas eve and all the lots were closed, but that’s another story.) But I admit that it bothers me to see Christmas lights up in early November and to see fully-decorated trees in windows weeks before Thanksgiving. Yes, we all get to decide when we begin decorating for our favorite holidays, but it seems to me that there’s such a thing as “too early.”
It’s weird to see someone’s leftover Halloween decorations being displayed right next to a house that is all decked out for Christmas. It’s annoying to hear Christmas carols being played in the grocery store while I’m still trying to decide what size turkey I’m going to need for Thanksgiving this year. And while I understand that stores want to put out their holiday merchandise as early as possible, I resent being forced to buy wrapping paper and other Christmas paraphernalia in November because I know perfectly well it will all be picked over by December 6th. And replaced with Valentine’s Day decorations by December 20th, if not before.
Besides, my tiny little mind doesn’t multi-task well, so all this blending of the holidays is confusing for me. I like to concentrate on one thing at a time. So what’s wrong with waiting until one holiday is over before we begin the celebrations for the next one? Whatever happened to “living in the moment?” And how can we possibly enjoy the anticipation of our favorite holiday when we’re surrounded by people who insist on acting as if it’s already here?
Yes, I love Christmas. Always have, and always will. Which is why I also believe that it’s a holiday worth waiting for…..
When my first child was born, I remember being surprised by how I instantly fell in love with her. From the very second the doctor put my daughter in my arms, I was completely and totally in love. The same thing happened two years later when I had my son, and then again many years later when I first laid eyes on my newborn grandson. It surprised me because that’s not how I usually operate. I may decide that I like someone very quickly, but it usually takes a while to actually fall in love. For me, falling in love is a process that has to unfold in its own good time.
That was certainly the case with Finn, the dog we adopted from the animal shelter last February. When I first saw him sitting in his run, looking at me with friendly interest, I was immediately attracted. After spending some time with him at the shelter where he had to stay until he was neutered, I grew to like him very much. And when we first brought him home, I liked him even more. But I didn’t really love him, and he didn’t really feel like “my” dog.
It didn’t particularly worry me, because I know there’s always an adjustment period when we bring a new dog into our homes and that it takes time for us to get to know one another. We learned that Finn is a sweet soul who is very affectionate, energetic and just a little bit more stubborn that we’d prefer. (In Finn’s opinion, just because I’ve told him “no” forty-nine times when he tries to join me on the couch is no reason not to try for the fiftieth time. He is the eternal optimist.)
Finn’s persistence can be annoying, especially on the days when I’m babysitting my grandson and Finn insists on trying to share his toys and lick his face. I know that Finn would never intentionally hurt my grandson, but his attentions are sometimes overwhelming for a toddler and so I have to separate them a lot. And remind my grandson that Finn’s toys are not for children and remind Finn that my grandson’s toys are not for dogs. Over and over. Those are the times when I wonder just exactly why I selected a young terrier as our next family dog, rather than say, a fourteen-year old Basset Hound.
But honestly, it doesn’t matter why I picked out Finn, or how many annoying habits he happens to have. Because sometime in the past few months, it happened. I fell in love with Finn and his pushy little self. I still get annoyed with him from time to time, but he has definitely wormed his way into my heart and that’s where he’ll stay for the rest of his life. He’s my dog now, absolutely and completely.
As an animal shelter volunteer, I see so many dogs that are returned by their new owners just a few days after their adoption. I’m sure a few of those people have legitimate reasons for doing that, but I firmly believe that most of them are making a big mistake. “Just give it time,” I want to tell them. Because none of us are perfect, whether we walk on two legs or four paws. And all worthwhile relationships require a certain amount of effort and patience.
But if you trust and believe, the love will come…..