tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45619856888182869942024-03-05T14:29:04.777-05:00A Collection of DaysExtraordinary Days in an Ordinary LifeJenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.comBlogger179125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-60177948712944657632014-01-30T14:42:00.001-05:002014-02-02T11:24:38.216-05:00The End of A Collection of Days on BloggerThis is the last blog you will see from this website. I will be opening up a new blog on another site. Thank you for your loyalty in following my collection of days. My new blog address is: <a href="http://jennielousdays.wordpress.com/">http://jennielousdays.wordpress.com</a>. <br />
<br />
I hope to see you all soon to share my collection of days with you. And, if you are new to this blog, please enjoy my blogs from the past several years as you journey with me and my new blog.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-20884445180583788232013-12-16T21:02:00.002-05:002013-12-16T21:02:36.834-05:00Christmas - A Time For Family<div class="MsoNormal">
In my collection of days, there never is a day that passes that doesn't either remind me of family, that I don't speak to a family member, or I fail to experience what
it means to be a part of a family. As
Christmas approaches, I am keenly aware of all kinds of families, which aren’t
all as mine is, and I stop to ponder just what is going on in this world. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I always believed that families were a special entity,
designed to love, support, build up, and take care of each other. Even in my darkest days, when I was reminded
by a family member that I had disgraced our family name, I was never abandoned
by my family, or made to feel like I was not a part of my family. They circled the wagons around me, protected
me as best they could, prayed for me, and more than anything, loved me. Even though many members of my family are not
close to me geographically, with cell phones, texting, Facebook, and yes, even
snail mail, we stay in touch with each other on a regular basis. We are bound together by our heritage and
our DNA, and the family ties are ones that can be pulled and stretched, but
never shredded or broken. Families are
treasures that should be cherished and protected with all our might. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This brings me to something that breaks my heart. I have some very close friends whose families
are not like mine, or display the concept of family that I so strongly believe
in. I don’t understand it. There are mothers whose grown children have
not spoken to them in over a year, fathers who have been cut off from their
children for reasons that they don’t understand, and children who have not been
in contact with their parents or siblings in many years. As I
talk to these friends, I listen to their stories, wondering what has happened
to the family. Where is the love? Where is the compassion? Where is the forgiveness? Where is the heart that is supposed to be at
the heart of family? What has happened
to the family?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is Christmastime.
It is time to celebrate family, set aside differences, forgive
transgressions and failures, rejoice in victories, and bask in the love of
God. While we stop to think about the
birth of Jesus, we also need to think about what he taught during his ministry. He didn’t teach us to abandon or judge
members of our family because we don’t agree with them. He didn’t teach us to turn our backs on our
children or our parents because they hurt our feelings or made us angry. He didn’t teach us to hold a grudge against
members of our family who have slipped along their path. He taught us to forgive, to love, and to
reflect God and God’s love through our lives.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I think about all these things, I am reminded of a young woman
I have recently met. Her story is one of
troubles, drug abuse,the loss of a child, and a myriad of problems that would make
many people cut and run. Her mother is
an alcoholic who was never an ideal candidate for Mother of the Year at any
time in this young woman’s life.
However, as this beautiful young woman has gotten her life back on solid
ground, she has never stopped loving her mother or trying to help her. While she is not rewarded by her mother with
support and love, she continues to be a part of her mother’s life, always
hoping that she will change. She makes
these other families look pitiful in contrast, because she knows the importance
of family, even a far from perfect one.
It is not a pretty story, but she gives me hope for other families.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am thankful for my family, and my wish at Christmas is
that everyone will rediscover something about family that may have been
forgotten, buried, hidden, or brushed aside for one reason or another. My wish is that forgiveness and love will
triumph where hurt and disappointment has tarnished the beauty of family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christmas is a family time of year.<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-15999670637347772752013-10-13T09:36:00.001-04:002013-10-14T06:58:40.608-04:00Viet Nam - Then and Now<div class="MsoNormal">
I wonder how many of my blog readers remember these? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58rMMZ549KwBNwuBfcdMrswjmvd7JPO1tIe-cDRYUAAHkLp3g_X-TQIh_bJd_arajoJBBgz1dqxaIzzW64HDAZve_FwFJiLKwFIhRLYTZemFdaF0Bv7fWUh6HoWgoXsw3au__SBLhBUed/s1600/POW+Bracelet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58rMMZ549KwBNwuBfcdMrswjmvd7JPO1tIe-cDRYUAAHkLp3g_X-TQIh_bJd_arajoJBBgz1dqxaIzzW64HDAZve_FwFJiLKwFIhRLYTZemFdaF0Bv7fWUh6HoWgoXsw3au__SBLhBUed/s200/POW+Bracelet.JPG" width="200" /></a>It was a Fall day in 1972 at the University of Georgia. As I got off of the campus bus on my way to
class, I stopped at a table outside the student center to see what was being
sold. The table was covered with
bracelets just like this one. The young
woman at the table explained to me that they were POW/MIA bracelets with the
names of soldiers engraved on them. For
$5, I could purchase one and wear it until the person whose name was on my
bracelet was either released or found. I
didn’t have $5 to spare that day, but I selected a bracelet, put it on my
wrist, and let go of my beloved $5 bill.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wore the bracelet until the war ended and the prisoners of
war were released. I searched the
newspaper for the name of my soldier, but I never saw his name. I placed the bracelet into my “treasure box”,
and over the years forgot about it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This fall I have been re-introduced to the Viet Nam War
through a special veteran friend, and from meeting another veteran and two young Vietnamese
men who are now in charge of a not-for-profit organization in Viet Nam, Project Renew, to find and disarm unexploded
munitions left there from the war. What
I knew about the war, and more, has entered my life through these
individuals. Then, to top it off, I
watched a special on television last night about The Smothers Brothers and
television censorship. It was an
excellent program and brought back memories of those war years that I had tucked away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other day while I was going through some of my
possessions that I retrieved from my house this past summer, I found my POW bracelet. Gone was my treasure box, but in the bottom
of a garbage bag that Phil had filled for me to take to my new home, gently lay
the silver bracelet. Now that we are in the information age, I was
able to Google my soldier’s name. I was
delighted to discover that he was released from prison in Viet Nam, and was not
one of the war’s casualties.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I think about these days in my life, spread out over four
decades, it is amazing to me how the threads have woven together to bring this
story to its conclusion. However, as I
think about it, I realize that the story isn’t over. The Viet Nam War is still with us in the
veterans who survived and carry memories of their days there, and in the Vietnamese
people who today are the victims of explosions of bombs we left behind. I am
grateful to the Americans and Vietnamese of Project Renew who continue working
to heal the wounds we inflicted to this faraway land. I wonder what happened to my soldier of the
POW bracelet, and if he is still alive.
I may never know, but I am thankful that I found my bracelet, have been
re-awakened to the Viet Nam experience, and have concluded this chapter in my collection
of days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, it is a new day.
What will it bring?<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-30436862778202443052013-09-15T07:36:00.001-04:002013-09-15T07:36:16.780-04:00Goodbye Sweet Ellie<div class="MsoNormal">
I arrived at the kennel early Thursday morning with only one
thing on my mind – sweet Ellie, the German Shepherd. Ellie has been boarding at Ashley Hills since
long before I began working here, but for the past year-and-a-half, she has become
one of my dearest canine friends. This
particular morning was special. Today
was Ellie’s last day to board with us.
Tomorrow her life here on earth would end, as she is escorted into
eternity and all of her pain will be over.
I wanted to have a few minutes with her alone before our day began in
earnest, and to pet her and talk to her on this final day at the kennel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhaHqgGLzAvxaB4L82UtLE387q6dQYS6NjhdhO2NdqIbWFEiBfyJfZH-uhtUzA2R0g5yfEp2P5kkvmeIc9jGt3WaTxoy_RN7BV95UuFE9ssV0S43ZIL7RUUi8y2oc0hAxUDwmUlQX5fVf/s1600/sweetEllie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhaHqgGLzAvxaB4L82UtLE387q6dQYS6NjhdhO2NdqIbWFEiBfyJfZH-uhtUzA2R0g5yfEp2P5kkvmeIc9jGt3WaTxoy_RN7BV95UuFE9ssV0S43ZIL7RUUi8y2oc0hAxUDwmUlQX5fVf/s320/sweetEllie.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ellie is special. She
is a beautiful German Shepherd with a gentle disposition and dark liquid
eyes. She is a regular guest, because
her owner traveled a good bit in her work and wanted Ellie to stay where she
was loved and cared for. Ever since I
have been here, a year-and-a-half, Ellie has been suffering from hip dysplasia,
which has caused her to have increasing pain and trouble getting around. While she has had happy times of frolicking
with other dogs, those days became fewer and fewer in the recent months. When she stays with us, she is visited and
treated by an animal acupuncturist and a dog chiropractor. She also discovered swimming a few weeks ago,
where she learned that being in the water made her feel young and whole
again. She loved the pond!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For her last days, her owner brought her to us to stay
overnight. She got to go for a swim in
the pond, play on the training field with her German Shepherd friend, Rommel,
and receive one of Ashley’s wonderful baths, which she came out of “smelling
like a girl.” We loved on her, gave her
a zillion hugs and kisses, and at the end of the day when her mama came to pick
her up, we told her good-bye through tear-filled eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
What more is there to say or write? Ellie, you will always hold a place in my
heart. I am happy that our paths in life
crossed.<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-84054650293588743252013-07-21T10:50:00.000-04:002013-07-21T10:50:04.911-04:00Hitching My Wagon to a Star<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure where I heard this phrase, but it has become
part of my vocabulary, and I use it often when talking to people about their
relationships, dreams, and goals.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This past week in New York City, I found myself in a
conversation with a fascinating young man who was attending Brian’s private
screening of his movie, “Checking In.”
As we became acquainted through our conversation, I learned that Brian
had recently officiated at the wedding of this gentleman and his partner. He shared with me some of his feelings about
how wonderful it was to be married to the man he loved and to be able to call
his partner his husband. I said something about him hitching his wagon
to the star of his partner, from which a new conversation began about what the
phrase means. I also commented that I
felt that Brian tied a strong knot whenever he officiated at a marriage, to
which he smiled and confirmed that he believed his knot was secure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have been single for over a year now. I have met a couple of men that I liked, but until
this past April, none whose star shone brightly and strongly enough for me to think
about hitching my wagon to. Now, as I
move through the first stages of a new relationship, I am re-thinking this
phrase, and wondering if it is applicable to my life anymore. At sixty-five, I consider whether I want to
hitch my wagon to another’s star, or if maybe I’d prefer to pull up alongside his
star and travel side by side while still hitched to my own star. Or perhaps we could hitch our individual
wagons in tandem to both of our stars and travel the universe together while
not fully letting go of our own vehicles. Could this make our journeys through life
easier - us sharing each other’s load? Would
this be possible in a healthy relationship?
I’d like to think it could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to admit that I am a bit shell-shocked after my last
experience. I trusted totally, and followed
blindly behind a star that was in its last stages before burning out in
tragedy. I thought I was smart and strong, but I wasn’t. It has left me somewhat bewildered and
befuddled about relationships, questioning if I will ever be able to be in a
healthy and solid relationship. I find
myself insecure about myself and my ability to love, and often in a confused
state of mind. I don’t want to ruin
what I have found, because this new one is a rare gem, and one I don’t want to
lose or throw away. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Can I hitch my wagon to his star, and do I want him to hitch
his to mine? I don’t know. On this day in my collection of days, I
ponder life and relationships, and hope that somehow the right path will be
revealed to me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also hope I don’t
crash my wagon in the process!<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-32943997088534507662013-06-19T15:16:00.000-04:002013-06-19T15:16:44.629-04:00Longing for the Ordinary<div class="MsoNormal">
Extraordinary days in an ordinary life….this is the title of
my blog. I am beginning to believe that
my life is extraordinary, and I would love to have an ordinary day! Recently, none of my days have been ordinary,
and I am reeling from the adrenaline flow, the pushing and pulling from tension
and stress, and from riding the emotional
waves of my life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning I am sitting in the family waiting area at
Saint Joseph’s Hospital while a friend has knee replacement surgery. He didn't want to burden his children with feeling they needed to change their daily schedules for him, so I volunteered to bring him this morning and be with him
today. While sitting here all morning has not been my
idea of a fun day, it has allowed me to do some writing, catch up on
correspondence, and to spend a little down time with no interferences
bombarding me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This past month has been one of reflection and introspection
squeezed in with record numbers at the boarding kennel where I work, creating
hectic and harried days, and causing my mind to reel and my body to scream at me
to slow down. Emotions have been resting
on the surface of my skin, bringing forth free-flowing tears, a grand showing
of my stubborn streak, and a severe case of tunnel vision. I have not been an easy person to be around. I have also discovered that the past couple
of years of my life have done some damage I had not been aware of. I am having a terrible time learning to trust
again, of allowing myself to open up and be vulnerable, and of being able to
express my feelings in a comprehensible language. I have footprints all over my face from
putting my foot into my mouth, and a few bruises where my words have caused my
foot to kick me squarely in the face! I
have not been very happy with myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote in my journal this morning in an attempt to
understand my patchwork quilt of recent feelings and emotions. I dare not go back and read it – I am afraid
it may not make much sense! I’d like to
exchange this quilt for a monotone colored blanket of dull and faded
colors. I want a little ordinary in my
life more than anything in this world right now. A
little normal would be mighty nice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I sit here waiting, the ordinariness of this waiting room
comforts me while I listen to bits and pieces of conversations as people
discuss the surgeries that are happening behind the big brown double doors, and
as I tune in on phone conversations informing loved ones of successful operations. I also can’t help but overhear conversations
of people sharing tidbits of life as they wait for the doctor to walk through
the doors. This is life. This is an extraordinary day for a room full
of ordinary people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I am one of them.
Somehow this makes me feel better.<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-43476225239789348332013-04-11T19:22:00.003-04:002013-04-11T19:22:19.426-04:00To Fly!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my favorite pet owners brought his two dogs, Kendra
and Kincade, into the kennel today to board for a few days. Tracy and I enjoy chatting when he brings the
dogs to stay with us, and our conversations can cover just about any topic. Today, we began talking about wishes coming
true.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tracy asked me, “If you could have one wish come true: to
either fly or be able to read other people’s minds, which one would you choose?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No hesitation at all for me!
To fly! That would be my one wish.
He nodded in agreement and said that he would wish the same thing. I told
Tracy about my recurring childhood dream of being able to fly, and he told me
that he had similar dreams. From the
topic of flying, we segued into cloud gazing, only to find that we both enjoy
the same sport, as clouds are integral ingredients in the world of flight!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My childhood dream is so vivid, I can picture it as I sit
here typing. It follows the theme of
Peter Pan, as the children are sprinkled with pixie dust and float out of the
nursery window on their journey to Never Never Land. In my dream, I am in my bed, and a fairy
appears waving a wand over my body, sprinkling sparkly dust all over me. As the sparkles touch me, I begin to float
and soon find myself high above my bed.
I use my arms and legs to propel myself through my bedroom window, where
I soar above the trees in our backyard, and float with the night breeze toward
the moon. I am not afraid, but fully caught up in the sensation
of drifting higher and higher above the earth.
The dream never had an ending or a conclusion – I would always wake up
while in mid-flight!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To fly! I still have
that wish and dream. My spirit soars
with the wind and rides the clouds, but my body remains glued to the
earth. I gaze at clouds, wishing they
were the pillows of fluff that they appear to be from my vantage point on
earth, and long to jump into them, leap from one to another, and feel their
softness against my skin as I tumble into them
and become enveloped in them as one does in a down mattress . I also gaze at the nighttime sky, and want to
explore the galaxies. The black velvet of the nighttime sky beckons
me as I dream of dancing from star to star and sitting on the crescent moon to
observe all of God’s creation around me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a dream, only a dream.
But perhaps one day I will be able to fly, and my dream will come
true. When it does, I hope I’ll be able
to write about it to share with you!<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-69926518291414168232013-03-27T19:30:00.000-04:002013-03-27T19:30:30.992-04:00My New Sidekick<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have gone downright goofy over my new roommate and
companion, Sunshine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew from the first day that she spent the night with me
that my home was her home. She knew it,
too, although she was a bit nervous and unsure of what was happening to
her at first.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunshine has been with me a month, and I can’t imagine my
life without her. She is a mess! Stubborn and headstrong, she certainly doesn’t
have the temperament of a German Shepherd.
She isn't my Diamond, and she reminds me every day that while she can’t
take the place of Diamond in my heart, she can wiggle and wag her way into a
vacant spot that had been unoccupied until she came my way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am learning many new things from Sunshine. I now notice every squirrel, bird, leaf, and
stick that happens upon our path when we are out for a walk. My ears perk up as Sunshine goes into alert
mode over a strange sound or unexpected movement along our path. I am soaking in her enthusiasm of the world
around her, and her exuberance over walking through a park makes me smile and
feel better about my life. We are
becoming best pals.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunshine loves sitting in my lap. While she is a little whirling dervish when
she is on the playground at the kennel with other dogs, and jumps up and down
greeting new dogs as they make their way down the aisle to their runs at the
kennel, she is a couch potato when we are home alone. She has learned to wait for me to invite her
to get up onto my lap, but with my invitation, it only takes one flying leap
for her to land squarely in my lap. And
once she is settled, it only takes a heartbeat before she is snoozing
comfortably in my arms. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I first began training Sunshine, she rebelled at every
opportunity. However, with each day that
we are together, her trust in me grows, and she now responds to my commands to
sit, wait, heel, and stay (most of the time).
She still wants to meet every new friend by jumping up onto them, and it
is difficult for her to learn not to do this.
She wants to make friends with every person and animal she meets. But her eagerness to please sparkles in her
big brown eyes, and I know she wants to make me proud of her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunshine and I have big plans for spring and summer. We want to go hiking together and check out
parks and recreation areas to explore.
She is going to help get me back into shape, and I am going to keep her
busy doing all the things a little Mountain Feist likes to do. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yep, we are pals!<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-53635348753640166682013-03-15T06:26:00.001-04:002013-03-15T06:26:37.584-04:00Post-Birthday Musings<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I am experiencing birthday hangover. Or maybe fun depletion. Could it be I’m getting old? Certainly not that, I keep telling
myself! Then, what could it be?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to say that this birthday is the best one I’ve had in
several years. I didn’t have a big bash
like the one when I turned 60, but this birthday had more depth and
breadth than any in my memory. Emotions
ran high as I basked in the warmth of friendships and family lovin’. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyone who reads my blog or follows my days on Facebook
knows my excitement over turning 65 and getting my Medicare card. You also know some of what this past year has
done to me. But what you may not know,
unless you are good at reading between the lines, is that this birthday has
been an affirmation of who I am and a celebration that I am still here, still standing,
and still moving forward. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so it is today, three days after my big day, that I sit
down at my computer to reflect, contemplate, dream a little, and pray a
lot. I am alone. Except for my little dog, Sunshine, I am
spending this time in solitude. I am a
little lonely, a bit melancholy, and on the verge of tears. But don’t feel sorry for me! Or worry about me! I think all of these feelings are necessary
for the next stage of my personal journey and growth. I would rather be where I am today than where
I was a year ago, so I am not complaining.
No, not one iota!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My birthday is officially over, and life is settling back
into normalcy and daily routines. But the
milestone of this day has been set along the road I am traveling with a great
big happy face etched into the stone for all to see who might find themselves
traveling along my road for a distance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My birthday is now past for another year, but the
celebration of life continues.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-43693107446536149322013-02-28T07:14:00.000-05:002013-02-28T07:46:51.828-05:00A Red Letter Day for Little Miss Lou<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
March 1 is tomorrow - the day I’ve been waiting
for all year long! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the day that I will officially be on Medicare. For the past year I have been uninsured,
walking on eggshells, hoping that I wouldn’t get sick or injured. And now, the day is almost here, and I can
feel the weight lifting from my shoulders.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t think I would look forward to becoming 65 so
much. But under the circumstances, it
looks like a pretty good number to be. I
guess I could say that I am retirement age, but realistically, my days of
leisure are still a few years away. Most
of my visions of retirement evaporated into the mist last year, being replaced
by one of continuing to work, earning a living, and preparing for that
day when I will sit down in my easy chair, pick up my book or knitting needles,
and watch the world go by from my window while I sip a cup of herb tea. YUCK!
Is that my vision – REALLY??<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead, as of tomorrow I’ll be insured (somewhat), still
working, not yet drawing Social Security, and gazing at the world with fresh
eyes, not from a window, but from a broader perspective. My budget is tight, my jeans are loose, my
head is clear, and my future is fuzzy. I
don’t know what this day will bring my way, much less the next
year. I am traveling a new road, taking
in the sights, picking up souvenirs, and finding people (and animals) to travel
with and stories to share along the way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now all I have to do is make it through today without
tripping, falling, running into something, or otherwise causing injury to
myself. I’ve done it for a year- I think I can manage it for one more day!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
March 1 - HERE I COME!!</div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-7926648093697153462013-02-24T17:38:00.001-05:002013-02-24T17:38:39.435-05:00You Are My Sunshine<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last week my friend Kasey, who runs a dog rescue
not-for-profit, asked me if I would be interested in fostering a dog she had
rescued from Gwinnett County for a few days.
She told me that Peaches was a sweet little dog, and needed a good home.
Kasey had pulled her from the shelter the day before she was to be euthanized. She
had spent a few days at another foster home which hadn’t worked out. Of course I said yes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWMRkzVCoFmUXlJJ1gA8a3hz33u8rvYglM9fvmcm6tyHq2VPNMoaw50Rro9tGJSLRWPyYISifhm3EMyXFQ-UyFvMIyfYuY6RLx42lnBKFIZPKX8D051PpQjuF_C5Tqc72xq0j7myijTtc/s1600/Happy+little+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWMRkzVCoFmUXlJJ1gA8a3hz33u8rvYglM9fvmcm6tyHq2VPNMoaw50Rro9tGJSLRWPyYISifhm3EMyXFQ-UyFvMIyfYuY6RLx42lnBKFIZPKX8D051PpQjuF_C5Tqc72xq0j7myijTtc/s200/Happy+little+girl.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Wednesday, Peaches arrived at our kennel after being
spayed. We placed her into one or our
suites to rest overnight. I would take
her home with me on Thursday.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Off and on during the day on Thursday, I stopped by to say
hello to Peaches so that she could get to know me. When it came time to go home, she eagerly
jumped into the backseat of my car, and settled down as if she had done it
hundreds of times before. When we got to
my house, she followed me inside, investigated, and found the kennel I had set
up in my bedroom. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew from the get-go that I couldn’t call her
Peaches. It just didn’t seem to suit
her. On Friday morning when I opened her
kennel to let her out, I said, “Good morning, Sunshine.” I knew then that was her name. The song, “You Are My Sunshine” started going
round and round in my mind as I remembered my childhood, listening to my dad
sing it every morning while he dressed for work. Sunshine, she is.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By Saturday, I knew I was a foster failure and that Sunshine
would be staying with me. We have some
adjusting to do to get to know each other, but she has wiggled and wagged her
way into my heart!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She knows she is home, and I do, too.<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-69372219024110540672013-02-21T06:28:00.000-05:002013-02-21T06:28:01.791-05:00Life As I Once Knew It<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
One year ago today, my life took a turn. Actually it wasn’t really a turn, but more
like an earthquake, or even a tornado.
My life changed drastically, and life as I had known it ceased to exist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One year ago today I was placed in handcuffs and escorted to
the Walton County jail where I spent a humiliating and humbling night, and came
out a different person from the one I was the day before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the next few months I wandered through a dark tunnel,
not knowing what my future would be, or if I would ever exit the tunnel
intact. During these months, the
blinders were removed from my eyes, my trust and faith in the person I loved
was destroyed, and I was stripped down to my core. When I was able to sleep, my dreams were
nightmares, most carrying an entrapment theme. I would wake up terrified and
disoriented. I didn’t know who I was or
how I had landed in this dark, dark place.
I spent many hours writing in a
personal journal, berating myself for my weakness, and generally wishing I
could just fall into a hole somewhere and disappear. I was on a journey I didn’t want to be on,
and I saw no way to exit off of this particular highway.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the months passed, small gifts came my way, enabling me
to grab hold to the sides of the tunnel and begin walking toward the pinpoint
of light I thought I could see in the distance.
I got a wonderful job, which took me out of my house every day and
enabled me to concentrate on something other than myself. Friends and family
began praying for me, encouraging me to get out of my situation, and cheering
me on to take a step I was afraid to take.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a moment of crisis in June, I knew I had to take the leap
and leave the environment I was living in and escape to a new and yet-unknown
future. Again, with the support of
friends and family, I stepped off the ledge, amazed to find a bridge beneath my
feet leading me to a new life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It has been a horrible year.
I would never wish what I have been through on anyone, and I often find
myself shaking my head realizing that all of this really happened to me. I wasn’t the person I thought I was, and I
let myself be drawn into something that I never in my wildest dreams would have
ever conceived of on my own or even thought about as something I’d like to be a
part of. I was weak, naïve, trusting,
and ignorant- none of which were good excuses for the predicament where I found
myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It has also been a wonderful year. I have been surprised by grace, encouraged by
the love of friends, both old and new, propped up by my family, and
strengthened by a faith that has grown by leaps and bounds as I have made
discoveries of grace gifts placed on my life path at critical places, designed
to help me and lead me forward. My life
today is rich and full, and I am thankful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My nightmare isn’t over yet – it could drag on for several
months to several years. But I have
embraced my new normal, put down roots into solid ground, and have chosen not
to pay attention to the bad dreams. I am
living each day with a thankful spirit, and am determined to make my life one
of paying it forward as a way of thanking all those who unselfishly poured out their love and support for me during this year.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tomorrow begins another year for me. I am a different person, I hope a better
person, and a person closely attuned to God’s voice in my life. I have
wandered through the tunnel, and have found the sunshine once again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Happy New Year to me!<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-81176362662063691542013-02-04T18:36:00.001-05:002013-02-04T18:39:01.552-05:00The Jungle Fun Room - Unleashed<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Saturday found me in Danville, Virginia, at George
Washington High School, where Brian’s play, “The Jungle Fun Room”, was being
performed by the high school’s drama department. Brian warned me ahead of time that it was going
to be “different” from other performances I had already seen, but I didn’t
anticipate the rare treat I was in for!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We arrived early at the school for the 3:00 matinee, but
there were already a few of the cast members there, anxiously waiting for time
for the show to begin. Enthusiastic and
cordial, they greeted me with the warmth of an established friend – a few
handshakes, and quite a few hugs. They
had been with Brian all week long while he conducted workshops with them and
watched their rehearsals. It was obvious
that they were as in awe of my son, the playwright, as I was!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I found an auditorium seat to claim as mine, and watched
from my place as the cast scurried back and forth, getting ready for the
performance. It took me back to my
senior year in high school, when I was in the ensemble of “Oklahoma!” I enjoyed the energy, electricity, and
enthusiasm I was witnessing, as well as remembering the excitement I felt as a teen-ager about
being in a stage production. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Brian sat down beside me to watch the play, visibly on pins
and needles and nervous, not knowing quite what to expect. Together, we listened to the opening music
and held our breaths as the stage lights came up, illuminating the stage and
set. The play began.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What a treat – a unique and rare treat! Those kids interpreted Brian’s play in a way
I never could have imagined. They became
their characters on stage, improvising when necessary over forgotten or missed
lines, and helping each other out during tense moments, at times carrying their
fellow actors through the performance.
They added things from their own imaginations as they became the
characters they were bringing to life, skipping parts that either didn’t suit
them, or those that they forgot. It was
not “The Jungle Fun Room” that I had seen in New York or Lexington, and it
certainly didn’t strictly follow the script I had read and re-read as Brian’s
proofreader while he wrote it. But it
was great! The audience loved it, and
the young actors had one hell of a good time on stage!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Afterward, at the cast party, I watched and listened as the
kids reveled in performance after-glow.
A couple of them talked to me and shared dreams of their future with
me. A few adopted me as “Grandma”, and
all were sad that it was over and time to say goodbye to Brian.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are no written words to adequately describe the experience
of this day. “Unique” doesn’t begin to
encompass what I saw, heard, and felt.
What is important to me as I record this day in my collection is that I
shared it with my son, and that we now share a day in our lives that only the
two of us can ever understand, appreciate, and re-live in our
storytelling. If we were able to
recreate our adventure word-for-word and frame-by-frame, few would believe us!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The students of the George Washington High School “Jungle
Fun Room” will live in my heart and memory as long as I live!<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-46871550315588084602013-01-17T07:08:00.001-05:002013-01-17T16:18:13.862-05:00Little Blue, the Parakeet<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Monday morning, our groomer arrived at the kennel as she
does every day, with a smile, sometimes an egg biscuit, and always an
enthusiasm for life that is contagious.
However, on this day, she was somewhat subdued. I didn’t understand why
until she put her case down and pulled something out from underneath her
sweatshirt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She handed me a tiny blue bundle, and asked me to keep it
warm for her. Tucked inside of a fleecy
slipper sock was a beautiful little blue parakeet. Pennie told me that it was her mother’s bird,
and that it had been fine earlier in the morning, but she found it laying in
the floor of its cage as she prepared to get ready for work. Pennie’s mom is bedridden and lives with
Pennie and her family. The little bird,
Blue, was her mom’s companion in her bedroom where she spends her days and
nights.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took the tiny bundle, and stroked Blue’s little head, talking
gently to him, while Pennie prepared some kind of concoction to feed him
through a syringe. She also took one of
our large feeding bowls and placed some bird seed in it. When she attempted to feed Blue through the
syringe, there was no response from the little bird, and it dribbled down its
chest and onto the sock.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pennie and I decided to take Blue out of the sock and place
him in the dish with the food. We made a
small nest out of the sock, and placed Blue in it. He moved a little and flapped his little
wings a time or two, and then was still.
I touched him to feel that he was still warm and breathing, said a quick
prayer to the angel of little birds, and we gently placed him on a corner of
Pennie’s grooming table. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next hour was busy for me, as I checked in dogs for
grooming and for boarding. As soon as it
quieted down in the office, I slipped into the grooming room to check on
Blue. When I touched him, I knew he was
gone. Pennie was bathing a dog, and
asked me about Blue. I told her that he
had died, and she came over to touch him, to confirm what I had told her. As I looked at this tiny, fragile creature,
I thought about Pennie’s mom, and how this little guy had brought her joy and
happiness as she enjoyed his company.
I wondered if Pennie would get another bird to replace Blue.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also pondered on the fragility of all life. Like little Blue, we are all here on earth
for a moment, we touch the hearts and lives of others, we flap our wings hoping
to fly, and we chirp our songs of thankfulness to our creator. A tear meandered its way down my cheek as I
touched Blue one more time and said good-bye.
Pennie told me that she would take him home and bury him in her yard
when she finished her day at the kennel.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can still feel the small bundle that Pennie placed in my
hand on Monday morning, asking me to keep it warm. I can still hear my words of encouragement to
the tiniest of God’s creatures, as I whispered to Blue and stroked his little
head. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I believe that Blue is somewhere out in God’s Heaven joyfully flying
and singing a happy song. <o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-33179568986849277462013-01-09T16:52:00.000-05:002013-01-09T16:52:36.294-05:00The Palm Pavilion- Clearwater Beach, FloridaRecently on Facebook there have been some postings about memories of growing up in the Clearwater, Florida, area. Although I did not grow up down there, but moved there when I was 16, I was familiar with the area all my life, since my dad was born in Palm Harbor, and he and my mom both graduated from Tarpon Springs High School. We used to go down to Clearwater every year to visit our relatives, and a trip to the Palm Pavillion was always on our list of things to do. The following is a childhood memory that I wrote about in my first book.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The Palm Pavilion</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The brilliant April
sun shone on the bleached white sand. A
rainbow array of blankets, quilts, and towels decorated the wide beach, adding
color to the stark brightness of the hot spring day. Rustling softly through the palm trees
separating beach from parking lot, a gentle breeze lazily floated past. Seagulls soared and dived in joy, screaming
in high-pitched voices to one another, white flecks against the aquamarine sky. Mama and Daddy sat relaxed on our patchwork
quilt, while Molly and I decided how we would spend our day at the beach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I stood enthralled
at the blending of sky, sea, and sand.
Wiggling my barefoot toes in the powdery sand and feeling the sun’s warm
touch on my winter-white shoulders, a tingle of excitement made chill bumps pop
up on my arms, despite the heat of the day.
I stood rooted in the sand surveying the panorama before me, amazed at
the beauty and wonder of my surroundings.
Where should I begin my day?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Standing nearby as
a giant oasis between sunny beach and steamy asphalt, the Palm Pavilion
silently beckoned me toward its cool sanctuary.
Its weathered red-and-green-striped roof spread across the low-slung
rambling building like a giant faded beach umbrella. A wide wrap-around porch lined with a row of
wooden <st1:place w:st="on">Adirondack</st1:place> chairs offered shady rest
for sun-baked beachcombers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I scuffled through
the deep sand toward the pavilion. Two
creaky steps up, and I was standing on the cool, shady porch. The splintery floor was made of wide, rough
planks spaced unevenly side by side, allowing sand from my feet to filter
through to the ground beneath. A row of
bronzed leather skinned grandparents lounged in the deck chairs discussing the
latest gossip, reminding one of chirping birds perched along a telephone
wire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Flung open were two
wide doors, revealing a dimly lit cavernous interior. I stepped through the doorway, temporarily
blinded until my eyes adjusted to the absence of light. Above, two ancient ceiling fans rotated
wearily, stirring the humid air. Whiffs
of buttery popcorn, spicy hotdogs, and greasy fries drifted enticingly in the
breeze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">As my eyesight got
used to the change in light, I spotted a wide counter along a far wall sporting
rows of straw hats in lopsided stacks. I
cautiously approached them, careful not to bump into anyone laden with popcorn
boxes or overflowing fizzing sodas. I
carefully picked up a floppy hat, placing it lightly on my head. The world became a checkerboard as I peered
through the loosely woven brim toward the open doors. Giggling, I carefully returned the hat to its
place on the stack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">On another counter
near the beach hats sat dozens of brightly colored buckets and shovels, all
child-sized for collecting ocean treasures and constructing elaborate sand
castles. Spotting a shiny royal blue
one, I picked it up, rubbing my fingers over its polished belly. It had a pearly white handle twisted into a
tight braid. Inside rested a canary
yellow shovel. It was beautiful, and it
was exactly what I needed! I pulled two
crumpled dollar bills that Daddy had given me from my pocket, and headed for
the cash register with my purchase.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The pail and shovel
mine, I glanced around quickly to see if there were any more discoveries to be
made. Satisfied that further adventures
could wait until lunchtime when I would try a famous Palm Pavilion chili dog, I
skipped across the cool, gritty floor toward the brightness of the
morning. Waiting for me outside was a
magnificent sandcastle yet to be created, and a bucketful of seashells washing
up on the shore, to be discovered by one little girl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-53905979145708619062013-01-06T09:38:00.003-05:002013-01-06T20:42:13.133-05:002013- Off and Running<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, we are now almost a week into the new year. I’m still not sure what to think about it or
to be very excited about it. But I am
doing my best to be optimistic and hopeful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The new year began for me with a case of laryngitis. I’ve always heard that what you do on the New
Year is what you’ll do all year long. If
this is true, then it will be a very quiet year for me! I didn’t do much talking. However, a phone call from a childhood friend
was a surprise and a treat for the day, and if I have a year of reuniting with
old friends, then that will be something pretty neat. I also spent the day watching old movies,
sipping on Irish cream, and taking cat naps.
A year of this wouldn’t be bad, either!
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On New Year’s night, I encountered one of my inner demons,
as I awakened after a bad dream thinking about all of the uncertainties facing
me this year. I fought going into the
dark tunnel of fear and terror with all my might, and with the help of a couple
of good friends who are my sounding boards and listening ears, and a long walk
in the mid-day sunshine, I was able to get off of the pity potty and shake off
the depression before it could get its grip on me. This
morning I am baking bread, which is also helping me look forward with positive
thoughts instead of negative ones.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p>On Thursday, I had a surprising experience that could have
turned out badly, but it didn’t. As I’ve
told the story, it has brought on gales of laughter as I have related it to my
co-workers. I’ll share this with you, my
reader.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am chauffeuring a rather energetic and exuberant Golden Retriever
to the kennel for day care every day for the next week or so while his owner recovers from quadruple
bi-pass surgery.
Bailey is a strong, happy dog with very little discipline or manners. While I am pretty strong and know how to
handle most dogs, Bailey probably weighs almost as much as I do, and it can be a
work-out to manage him. What I didn’t
know was how Bailey felt about cats.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Thursday morning, when we arrived at the kennel, I got a
good hold on Bailey’s leash before letting him get out of the car to enter the
kennel. It was early, and we were the
first ones there. All was going well. We made it to the door, where I put him into
a rare sit, and put my key into the door to open it. What I didn’t realize was that Edmond, the
kennel cat, was on the other side of the door, waiting for the door to open to
go outside. As I opened the door, Edmond
darted out the only way he could, between Bailey’s front paws. Bailey took chase, catching me off-balance
and off-guard. I went sprawling into the
cedar shavings alongside the breezeway walkway.
Thankfully, the weight of my prone body slowed Bailey down, resulting in
a short sleigh ride, minus the sleigh, leaving skid marks in the shavings. Edmond escaped around the corner, and Bailey
gave up chase. I checked myself out,
realizing that I wasn’t mortally injured, while Bailey looked at me with a “why
did you stop me?” look in his eyes.
Brushing myself off, I escorted him into the kennel and into his run,
promising him a come to Jesus talk later in the day. I discovered that I was mostly uninjured, but
had split the skin on my knee, underneath my jeans. A band-aid did the trick, and I was ready for
the day. Since then, I have scoped out
the territory before transporting Bailey through the kennel. I’m a fast learner. It only takes one time for me to learn that
Bailey and Edmond should not be in the same proximity with each other! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The highlights of my first week of 2013: a little bit of the blues, a scary adventure
that ended up being funny, and three loaves of cracked wheat bread baking in my
oven. Maybe it will be a pretty good
year, after all!<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-68010191788745511302012-12-30T07:51:00.001-05:002012-12-30T07:51:32.222-05:00Reflections on 2012 and The End of the Year
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What profound words of wisdom can I expound upon as 2012
comes to a close in my collection of days?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s for sure that I am ending the year a heck of a lot wiser than I
entered it, but I have paid a very dear price for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, in spite of it all, the lessons I
have learned have helped me to set my feet back onto a solid path, and I am looking
forward to the new year with hope and enthusiasm.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, what have I learned this year?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">First of all, I’ve learned that I am about the most naïve
and trusting person on the face of the earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I trusted in the wrong person over a very bad decision, believing that
he was my soul mate who would protect and shield me in all things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wrong!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I learned that I had very strong blinders on, and could not
see what was going on all around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
also learned that my family and friends loved me too much to try to tell me
what they could see that I couldn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
then, with the blinders I was wearing, I probably wouldn’t have believed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took a crisis for me to shed the cursed
things and see clearly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know what
they say about hindsight being 20-20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
true!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I also learned that my family and friends love me so much
that they bent over backwards to support me and help me through this year, even
when I disappointed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
discovered for myself what true love is and how unworthy I am of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bitterness is a terrible taste in one’s mouth, and I have
learned to spit it out and set my face toward the future, looking for the
sunlight in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have discovered wonders that I didn’t know
existed, and have deepened my spirituality in believing that things happen for
a reason, even when they set me on a terrifying path that at times seems
endless and dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have learned that each day I wake up is a gift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I experienced the depth of depression for a
short period of time, out of which came the realization that I never want to
visit that dark place again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I prefer to
seek the sunshine and turn my face toward the sun.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are many small blessings that might be overlooked in
one’s life, and I have discovered that they may be the most powerful and
important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned to look for the
angels carrying these small gifts in my direction, and to be thankful.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But most of all, I learned in 2012 that my collection of
days continues despite what happens to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Each day is important and has its lessons to teach me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a different person than the one who
wrote in this blog this time last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I hope that I am a better person, a more humble person, and a more
sensitive and compassionate person. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
also hope that the lessons I’ve learned will become part of who I am and will follow
me into the new year. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Happy New Year to all of my loyal readers!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-41282750543030917892012-12-23T08:52:00.004-05:002012-12-23T08:55:20.568-05:00Christmas Found Me<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure when or where it happened. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think it sneaked in at the Longest Night service at the
Methodist Church on the evening of December 20.
After Communion, while I was kneeling at the altar praying, the minister
anointed my forehead with scented oil and said a short prayer for me. It wasn’t until I got home after the service
that I noticed an unusual fragrance following me around everywhere I went in my
apartment. When it dawned on me it was coming from the oil on my face, I decided not to bathe that night. It was with great reluctance that I washed my
face the following morning!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesSbweDbpcxRQxunnsYcDr3m8NiYAumGJXhyphenhyphenLrhxu7gkPPzTGoAtgGWp02Ix4KgYUzKTb4Qqy4RqjuRaRilyeqz7sdp80sqFGT6JgpO-fP3kV6Pvl85OBCeWHGdBC_cnDg8ET3poo6DEt/s1600/JJs+stocking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesSbweDbpcxRQxunnsYcDr3m8NiYAumGJXhyphenhyphenLrhxu7gkPPzTGoAtgGWp02Ix4KgYUzKTb4Qqy4RqjuRaRilyeqz7sdp80sqFGT6JgpO-fP3kV6Pvl85OBCeWHGdBC_cnDg8ET3poo6DEt/s320/JJs+stocking.jpg" width="240" /></a>Or, it could have been at the kennel when I received a phone
call from one of our clients telling me that she was on her way over, and to
please not leave for lunch until she got there.
She and her puppy, Yogi, roared up the drive just as we were getting
ready for our lunch break. She handed me
an envelope and wished me a Merry Christmas.
This surprised me, because I knew she was Jewish. With a quick hug from her and a lick from
Yogi, they were out the door and on their way.
When I opened the envelope, I found a nice Christmas card with a photo
of Yogi and $25 inside. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe it has been all of the Facebook messages I have
received this week wishing me a Merry Christmas from friends and family around
the world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Possibly, it was the young man behind me in the Walmart check-out
line who struck up a conversation with me about our plans for the holiday with
our families. As I filled my buggy with
my sacks of groceries, he smiled and wished me a Merry Christmas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But truthfully, I think it was Daisy, the little dog I am
puppy-sitting with this week. Because
she likes to go for walks, I head out every evening with her for a walk in
downtown Monroe. Friday night we
happened across a living nativity on the square, complete with a camel, some
donkeys, sheep, and a few bunny rabbits.
Daisy wasn’t particularly interested in the nativity scene, but the “Hallelujah
Chorus” was playing through the loud speaker system, and I was caught up in the
visual scene and the sounds of the wonderful music.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somehow, Christmas has found me. It is very different from any Christmas I
have ever encountered, but it is here. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I am crying.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-21859932146609354082012-12-13T05:26:00.000-05:002012-12-13T05:26:34.421-05:00Where is Christmas?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am having a difficult time getting into Christmas this
year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too much has happened during 2012
that has rocked my world, and I find myself reeling, trying to find sure
footing in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christmas just isn’t
helping!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to get into the Christmas spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I get snippets of it from time to time, such as when I am baking cookies
with my nephews and nieces or teaching a new friend how to cut out and decorate
sugar cookies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then I find myself
back in my real world, and the Christmas spirit flees from me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been a tough year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I discovered that my biblical house was built upon the sand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the storms came, it crumbled and tumbled,
leaving me standing bare before my creator and alone in my heartache, fears, and
disappointment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They say that what doesn’t
kill you will make you stronger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
sure how much stronger I am, but thankfully I’m not dead yet!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I believe I have made progress, day by day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my journey is long, and the path is
littered with stones that keep trying to trip me up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My faith is my walking stick, and I lean on
it as I maneuver my way through unknown territory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My family and my friends are on the
sidelines of my path cheering me on, and at critical times they have stepped in
and walked awhile with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am very
grateful for all of the support and help they have given me this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
know I wouldn’t be here today writing this blog if it hadn’t been for these
special people and for God’s constant presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am humbled by grace and love.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s Christmas time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Brian reminded me of how close it is in his Facebook posting earlier
this week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am also constantly reminded
of it every time I go for a walk in Monroe or shop in our local Walmart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The commercialism bothers me more this year
than in previous seasons- I’m not sure why, but it does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I search for the true meaning of Christmas,
and wonder why we put so much emphasis on a birth and on Santa Claus, when it
was the life of Jesus - his teaching and sacrifice - that revealed God’s true
self to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will keep searching for Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know it’s out there somewhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-16595242835465977292012-11-28T18:28:00.000-05:002012-11-28T18:28:02.690-05:00It's All In A Name
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A few days ago my memory was nudged as I was asked about a
student I taught in Bassett, Virginia, in 1988.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At first, I drew a blank when asked about this particular student, but
then today in a burst of brain activity, the whole memory flashed back.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was teaching sixth grade at Bassett Middle School.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bassett was a mill town in southern Virginia,
and the students I taught mostly came from factory worker homes, and there were
lots of cousins in my classroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of
the children lived outside of town in family “hollers”, and had very little experience
with the world outside of Henry County.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Names were unusual, to put it mildly, and I had to learn how to spell
names in very unusual ways.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One day in mid-year, a wiry little guy was escorted into my
classroom by the principal as a new student.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I greeted him, and asked him his name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It sounded like he said Drunarb, with the accent on the”narb.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying not to embarrass him or make him ill
at ease, I mumbled his name as I introduced him to the class and showed him to an empty desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grabbing a pad and pencil from my desk on the
way down the row to his seat, I was ready to figure out what his name was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he sat down, I pulled up a chair next to
him, and asked him again his name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
mumbled it again, and again, I couldn’t understand what he was saying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Putting the pad on his desk, I asked him to
please spell his first name.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He began, “D-r-a-n-r-e-b”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote the letters on the pad as he
spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he was finished, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to pronounce it, and he corrected me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s Dranarb,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“That’s an unusual name,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve never heard of it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I’m named after my father,” he answered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh, your dad’s name is Dranreb?” I asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“No,” he countered. “His name is Bernard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was named after him.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The lightbulb in my brain finally fully turned on as I looked at the letters spelled out on my pad , I was
flabbergasted, but couldn’t stop there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That’s
great that you were named after your dad. Do you have a middle name?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yes,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“My
middle name is Siwel.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spelled out the letters while I wrote them
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ok, I got it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
looked at him and said, “You’re dad’s name must be Bernard Lewis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Am I right?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dranreb nodded and smiled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What more could I say to that!</span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-65823957505073401412012-11-25T07:27:00.001-05:002012-11-25T07:27:36.115-05:00Every Path Has Its Puddles
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I heard this statement the other day, and immediately wrote
it down on the note pad on the table next to my bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This statement can be taken two ways, as I see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A puddle can be an obstruction on one’s
journey, or it can be an opportunity for a little bit of fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I choose to select option Number 2.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I remember loving rainy days as a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there was no electricity in the air in the
form of lightning and thunder, Mama would let me go outside with my raincoat,
umbrella, and galoshes to play in the puddles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My best friend, Marcia, and I spent many happy hours sloshing through
the puddles and playing in the gutters of our street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d
come back into the house soaked from our ankles to our knees, where Mama would
have hot chocolate and home-made cookies waiting for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">More recently, I enjoyed a rainy afternoon with Brian, who
had flown down from New York City to be with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a steamy day in July, the day after I sneaked<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>out of my home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had met Brian at the home where I would be
spending the next two months of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were sitting on the deck enjoying a glass of wine at my temporary
home when a shower blew in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We watched
it rain for a few minutes when we decided that we needed to play in the
rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ran out onto the open portion
of the deck and began to dance and twirl, lifting our faces toward heaven, and
letting the rain completely soak us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
little girl in me had been reawakened. We laughed and cried and hugged, getting
soaked from head to toe with the fresh rainwater.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this was the first step for me in
my healing from the ordeals of the past five months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, I’ll choose to look at puddles along my path as a good
thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s too much of a temptation for
having a little fun!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And besides, as my
Daddy used to remind me, I’m not made of sugar, so I won’t melt!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-67503341656737493782012-11-19T19:28:00.000-05:002012-11-19T19:28:23.072-05:00Betty, the Adventurer
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Betty Gibson (not her real name) stopped by the kennel this morning
to see if we had space to board her dog, Molly (not her real name, either!),
for the Thanksgiving holiday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had
decided at the last minute to drive up to Massachusetts to visit her daughter,
and planned to be gone about ten days. She couldn't finalize her plans without knowing we had room for Molly.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The kennel is full, but Betty holds a special place in our
hearts, and we told her that yes, we would be happy to keep Molly for
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a smile on her face, she said
she had to go home to pack, and that she’d be back later in the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Promptly at 4:00 pm, we saw Betty’s little Toyota driving up
our long driveway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pulled in and
parked, got out of the driver’s seat, opened the back door, and out bounded Molly,
her big German Shepherd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Molly has been
at the kennel so many times, she headed straight for the door to the runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ashley grabbed her leash and escorted her back
to her run while Betty approached the reception desk to check in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finished getting Molly’s
reservation made, and talked to Betty while I put the final touches on the run
card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Betty told me that she was driving
alone to Massachusetts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This surprised
me, because Betty isn’t a spring chicken, she is hard of hearing, and it takes
every ounce of her energy to keep up with enthusiastic Molly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess my face gave away my concern about her
driving all that distance alone, because she told me that her daughter tried to
convince her to fly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Betty said that she
wanted to take the back roads north, and that if she ran into any bad weather,
she’d just turn the car around and drive back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said that she enjoyed driving and that
she planned to take her time, look at some pretty scenery, and enjoy
herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Smiling, I looked her straight in the eye and said, “Betty,
I sure do want to be like you when I grow up.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her eyes twinkled, and her wrinkled face lit up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“How old are you?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asked me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I told her my age, and she replied, “I’m 82.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was your age, I drove with a friend
from San Diego all the way to Alaska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can’t do that anymore, but I am looking forward to driving to Massachusetts.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We talked for a few minutes longer about some of the things
she has done since retiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said
her memory is beginning to play tricks on her, and that she is signed up to be
a part of a memory study at Emory University when she returns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As she left, I wished her Godspeed and safe travels on her
trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know how much longer Betty
will be able to drive alone on her trips, and I hope that God will have some
extra angels in the car with her watching over her on this one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know Molly will be happy to see her when
she returns home, and I will, too!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-88466091485906016962012-11-17T16:11:00.000-05:002012-11-17T16:23:36.820-05:00A Healing Within<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last week-end when I experienced my first 13<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>
Octave La Ho Chi healing, I knew that something significant had happened to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the session was over, and the burning sensation in my
feet and under my left arm had cooled down, and the tears and the
uncontrollable trembling had run their course, I was smiling, enjoying a glass
of wine, and laughing with my friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My healer told me that whenever I felt the need to cry, or felt
paralyzed by fear and anxiety, that I should wrap myself up in the blue cloak
of Mother Mary - that she was always with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I asked her if this was the same Mary as Jesus’ mother, and her durect answer to
me was, “Of course it is.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It felt as if a weight had been lifted from my spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I still have many trials and challenges
facing me, I could almost feel the brush of angel wings all around me sweeping them
away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also seemed as though I was seeing
things through clearer eyes, and my fears were lessened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On Wednesday, I went shopping and found a light blue Sherpa blanket
at one of the department stores I visited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As I felt its softness, I knew that I had to have it. This was the blue
cloak I needed to wrap up in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as I got home, I unfolded it from its packaging,
sat down in my comfy arm chair, and enveloped myself within it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Overcome with sudden emotion, I began
weeping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I cried, I drew the blanket
up closer to my face and let the tears flow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Soon, all the tears were expended, and I was warm and cozy, all wrapped
up in my Mother Mary cloak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only did I feel close to Mother Mary, but
I could feel the presence of my own mother comforting me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not sure I understand what happened when I had the
healing session, but I know that I feel different than I did this time last
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also have the reassurance that I
am surrounded by the Holy Spirit along with an army of angels ready to protect
me and guide me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I write this, I know
it sounds weird, but I can only attest to how I feel and what I
experienced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is like the broken pieces in my life have
been put back together and that my heart has been opened to receive more of
what God wants me to have in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is a very good feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-72012564646649979182012-11-04T08:10:00.000-05:002012-11-04T08:10:17.754-05:00Embracing a New Simple Life
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have told people for years that I live a simple life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little did I know that my life could become
even more simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that I am living
alone in a small apartment, I understand more fully what the word simple really
means!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My sister-in-law and I talked over the phone yesterday for
our weekly Saturday check-in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asked
me what I still need for my new home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about
it, and had a hard time coming up with a list for her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are still many of my personal
belongings still at the house where I used to live, and I am hopeful that I
will get them back in the divorce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
want to duplicate these items until I know for sure whether they will still be
available for me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t sure what to
tell her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Downsizing is a word I hear quite often from my baby-boomer
friends as they sell their homes and move into smaller spaces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are discarding the unessential things
from our lives, and making critical decisions on what is important to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is what I did on September 8, when I
went back to my home to claim my belongings and move them out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, I was unable to get many of the
things that I wanted and/or needed that day, but looking back on that stressful
day, I know that I made some good choices, and I am now surrounded by a few
things that hold special meaning for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am mourning over those that
were unavailable to me on that day (the reason for this is another story), but now
almost two months later, I am doing quite nicely without them, and if I have to
do it, I can live happily without them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am working on my budget for my new life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is going to be a strict one for the next
year until I begin drawing Social Security.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But again, I am discovering that I don’t need much, and simplicity is
truly an integral part of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are still things that I would like to have in my new home, but I
am living very comfortably and finding that the simple life is indeed a good
one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My days are changing,
my life is definitely changing, and the road I am now traveling is cluttered
with new adventures and discoveries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even
with all the pain and fear of this year, I am collecting blessings along the
way, which are making me a new person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t like snakes, but I keep thinking of the snake skins I used to
find when I was camping or hiking, and know that, like the snake, I am shedding
my old skin and creating a new one that fits me better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Downsizing, embracing a simple life – call it what you
want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is something that I am living
each day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My days are still worth
collecting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4561985688818286994.post-84671468231509025082012-10-07T07:26:00.000-04:002012-10-07T07:26:23.413-04:00Discoveries Along My Way<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that I have been living in my apartment for a
month,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am settling into my little
nest, making it look like my home, and beginning to feel like I’m not afloat
any longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned a few lessons,
made a number of discoveries, and encountered some surprises as I adjust to
life alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are making my
collection of days very interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here are a few highlights:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I decided to buy myself a bottle of wine to enjoy with
dinner one night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After it was chilled
and I was ready for my meal, I realized I didn’t have a corkscrew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made a quick trip to the local grocery
store to purchase one, but when I got home with it, I couldn’t figure out how
to work the darn thing- it wasn’t like the one I knew and loved at my former
home!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a deep breath, studied it a
bit, and finally figured it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
that first glass of wine in my new home was the best I have ever had.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Peepholes are made for tall people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have one on my front door, but I have to
climb onto a stool to see who is on the other side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This happened one day when my landlady’s
handyman stopped by to see if I needed anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He heard me on the other side of the door
clattering around getting my stool out to see who was knocking, and yelled
through the closed door to ask if I was o.k.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once I recognized who it was, I opened the door for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One week later, I had a new peephole- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>at my eye level. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The television doesn’t have to be on during all of my waking
hours at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quiet is nice!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been enjoying not having background noise
around me all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really don’t
miss it at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can sleep on both sides of the bed, and I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The clock doesn’t manage me the way it used to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I want to stop somewhere on the way home from
work, it is fine to do so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I want to
have my supper at 8:00 pm, that’s ok, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can change my mind about what I want to do and when I want to do it
without having to let anyone know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is a difference between lonely and alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far, I have not felt lonely, because I
have an entire cheering squad of family and friends who are supporting me and
who are always a heartbeat away if there is something I need or if I want a friendly
voice to talk to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure some lonely days
will surface, but for now I am doing fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Baritone ukulele chords and words to old songs that have
been stored in the depths of my brain’s filing cabinets for decades are slowly
bubbling to the surface.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sister
brought me a baritone ukulele when I moved, and I have been playing around with
it trying to remember all of the old songs we strummed and sang when we were
Camp Fire Girls at summer camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
are still some that are stumping me, but I am hopeful that with a little time,
my fingers will remember the chords and my brain will remember the words to the
songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the meantime, I now have the magic
of the internet <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to assist me in
remembering!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The surprises and challenges keep on coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As those worthy of note make their way into
my life, I will share them in my collection of days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18404116832970933449noreply@blogger.com0