Speechless

There is nothing much to say.

We are glad it is the weekend, of course. I don't even have anything bad to say about the rain this time. ANY precipitation is automatically good and welcome at this point.

My sweetie talked me into going to his office to help him empty desks that are being sold. It's not my ideal weekend activity, but given that he didn't get home before 7 pm any day this week...guess it's a way to help him out.

We are continuing to reorganize--we are getting some new storage units for the garage and some thought has to be put into deciding where and what. I'm hoping that it is easier to get in and out of the car and that there is more room in front of the cars for us to get by (and for the lawnmower once it is that time of the year again).

I like organizing. It doesn't really get anyting done, but theoretically it should help if we should want to work on any of our dozens of projects.

We are getting another closed unit and two open metal bookshelves. I think this means saying goodbye to an old rickety shelf and an open one that my better half has always disliked. That's okay with me as long as it improves the flow in our garage. We both collect an awful lot of junk--it's time for it to either be thrown out or truly organized if we are keeping it. I'm not sure how the larger items are gonna fit in yet--maybe we will switch things around a bit.

Now all I need is some ambition to put in the time and effort instead of collapsing on the sofa and watching Oprah when I get home from school.

Ambition usually takes two ingredients. Weather over 50 degrees and under 90 degrees. And feeling healthy. Regretably my allergy pills are not doing the trick, so it may be time to ask my doc what we can do to help a body run amuck as the molds and pollens defrost. I sure appreciate all those hayfever free years when I could do as I please.

So, now that I've taken this much time to say absolutely nothing...I'm off to hit the elliptical machine and lift weights.

Happy Birthday, Kharma

At one year of age she knows these commands:

• sit
• lie down
• play dead
• roll over
• spin
• bring the... ball, squeaky toy, wire hoop, frisbee, or bone by name
• drop
• wait
• stay
• cross the street
• jump on and off
• heel

She also knows that she has to sit or we won't throw her frisbee. And she loves her frisbee and is great at catching it and bringing it back. She's getting better when told to leave something alone. We are working toward greater control off-leash and she's improving constantly. She is off-leash all the way to the pasture and back every morning for frisbee. We've found treats are very motivating. We can't thank Jeanie, our trainer, enough for all the helpful hints during our class.

We need to work on "come" till she has it perfectly. Then we can start agility training...yippee!

Meanwhile, I've got to get busy making her birthday cake and another batch of doggie treats.

WE HAVE THE BEST DOG IN THE WORLD!!!

Forever a Puppy?

Today is Kharma's last day as an official puppy--she turns one year old tomorrow. And yes, we are having a birthday party for her, complete with friends (canine and otherwise) and a doggy birthday cake from our 3-Dog Bakery Cookbook).

While I'm proud of her generally very grown-up behavior, I'm gonna miss her puppy days. Wistful sigh.

When she was a puppy, everyone would say how cute she was. And, oh my, that round little body. She was so fuzzy and soft. Totally adorable! She took a long time to learn to manage those unpredictable baby legs and would trip and stumble and bumble along. We would find ourselves laughing all day long at her failed attempts to put the brakes on.

Big and little kids couldn't wait to pet her. There's nothing less intimidating than a blonde little puppy with a fat pink tummy. And a back end that wiggled side to side while her front end wiggled in counter-point.

Alas, she looks so grown up in comparison now that she's accepted by one and all as an adult dog. She may not miss the attention, but I have to admit that I do! It was fun.

So I had to post one of her puppy mischief photos just to remind myself that maybe it's a good thing that puppies don't stay puppies forever. Dogs are pretty wonderful themselves and we have some fabulous memories of our little puppy to treasure.

The Gift

Many thanks to my mom for sending this my way. I don't know the author, but she (must be a she) deserves kudoes for this one. It's a powerful statement and it would be great to feel this way about our bodies, our choices and our abilities at any stage of life.

"Old age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be.

Oh, not my body! I sometimes despair over my body ... the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, and my loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly.

As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avant-garde on my patio.

I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m. and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's, and if I, at the same time,wish to weep over a lost love... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful, But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. and I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be, but will continue to rejoice in what was."

Groundhog Day

One of our favorite movies is Groundhog Day with Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell. Wouldn't it be cool if we just kept repeating a day until we finally got it right? Reincarnation, but at a daily level.

If repeating this day, I'd have taken Kharma to the pasture five minutes earlier so I wouldn't have been five minutes late at school. Or I would have cut my conversation with a former kindergarten mom short so I wouldn't have had to run home to make up time which caused a very interesting series of sounds that varied from wheeze to whistle as I breathed.

I'd have avoided the upper end of the pasture with the apparently seductive dog smells so the pup would have come when I called. Or I would have physically gone and grabbed her instead of trying the dog trainer trick of calling her while hiding (in the weeds wearing polar fleece). Picking rabbitbrush bits out of my newly-washed jacket the entire afternoon was not my idea of fun.

Also, possibly I wouldn't have had the second half of a PBJ for lunch. I didn't really do enough to deserve the extra calories although a carrot stick just didn't seem to have the same appeal at the time.

Or possibly I would have done it all the same, because I feel like I had a very nice Friday. Every Friday is nice. How could it be otherwise?