Meanwhile, Matt and I picked and ate some scuppernongs that had just ripened. They were delicious! As you can see, we are going to have tons of them this year.
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Sunday, July 31, 2011
Sunday Evening
Meanwhile, Matt and I picked and ate some scuppernongs that had just ripened. They were delicious! As you can see, we are going to have tons of them this year.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Crazy Dream
Last night, I had the craziest dream. I dreamt I had a baby. It was a girl but there was no name. At the beginning of the dream, she was a newborn. I was amazed at how flat my stomach was getting already. There was also a man there who had just had a baby and he was amazed at how flat his stomach was, too! Crazy!
Some things happened in this dream that really make me question my mothering skills, if I ever decide to use them.
First, apparently I only had one bottle for the baby. It was the one they gave me at the hospital. She got hungry so I fed her but she wanted another one and I didn't have another bottle or any formula. She was not too happy about it and was pretty hungry.
Then, she was crying so I had to change her diaper. I bought these really big diapers that I had to fold down a bunch of times to make them work. It took like 30 minutes for me to put the first diaper on her and then right after she used the bathroom again and I was so frustrated because I knew I had to start the whole process over again.
At one point, she must have been a little older than a newborn because I let her play with two cats on some stairs outside the door of our apartment. Where us living in an apartment came in I have no clue. She seemed to like the cats and there were also some cardboard boxes on the stairs, too. Cats and stairs and newborns, or babies in general, don't exactly make for a great playground.
I remember looking into her room and it was so messy, hangers and crap just everywhere. There was a crib but at one point I remember propping her up on my bed while I was doing something. I remember thinking in my dream that I hadn't gotten anything ready. I hadn't bought, organized or stored any wipes or bottles or formula and I hadn't even finished her room. It looked awful and I remember being mad at myself for procrastinating and not working on it.
At the end of the day, Matt came home and I guess I told him that I didn't have any toys or bottles or anything and he reminded me that our Sunday School class had given us a shower and we still had everything we received in a box. I ran and got it and dumped it out. It had a bunch of odds and ends in it but I found a pair of red and black sunglasses that I loved. Why someone gave me a pair of sunglasses for a baby shower I don't know! I remember thinking, Score! I put them on and I'm thinking I forgot all about the baby.
These are not exactly the traits of a good mother. This dream really kind of scared me. I mean, I feel certain I would never do these things, but still. What kind of mother doesn't have formula or bottles and cares more about a pair of sunglasses than diapers or toys for her baby? Apparently, me in that dream, and it was so crazy!! Let's just hope that none of these instances ever resembles my real life!
Some things happened in this dream that really make me question my mothering skills, if I ever decide to use them.
First, apparently I only had one bottle for the baby. It was the one they gave me at the hospital. She got hungry so I fed her but she wanted another one and I didn't have another bottle or any formula. She was not too happy about it and was pretty hungry.
Then, she was crying so I had to change her diaper. I bought these really big diapers that I had to fold down a bunch of times to make them work. It took like 30 minutes for me to put the first diaper on her and then right after she used the bathroom again and I was so frustrated because I knew I had to start the whole process over again.
At one point, she must have been a little older than a newborn because I let her play with two cats on some stairs outside the door of our apartment. Where us living in an apartment came in I have no clue. She seemed to like the cats and there were also some cardboard boxes on the stairs, too. Cats and stairs and newborns, or babies in general, don't exactly make for a great playground.
I remember looking into her room and it was so messy, hangers and crap just everywhere. There was a crib but at one point I remember propping her up on my bed while I was doing something. I remember thinking in my dream that I hadn't gotten anything ready. I hadn't bought, organized or stored any wipes or bottles or formula and I hadn't even finished her room. It looked awful and I remember being mad at myself for procrastinating and not working on it.
At the end of the day, Matt came home and I guess I told him that I didn't have any toys or bottles or anything and he reminded me that our Sunday School class had given us a shower and we still had everything we received in a box. I ran and got it and dumped it out. It had a bunch of odds and ends in it but I found a pair of red and black sunglasses that I loved. Why someone gave me a pair of sunglasses for a baby shower I don't know! I remember thinking, Score! I put them on and I'm thinking I forgot all about the baby.
These are not exactly the traits of a good mother. This dream really kind of scared me. I mean, I feel certain I would never do these things, but still. What kind of mother doesn't have formula or bottles and cares more about a pair of sunglasses than diapers or toys for her baby? Apparently, me in that dream, and it was so crazy!! Let's just hope that none of these instances ever resembles my real life!
People Watching
I love to watch people. I find humans extremely intriguing. Here are two examples of people that I observe on an almost daily basis. I don't go out of my way to observe, they have sort of presented themselves in my path. Don't you ever wonder if someone notices you and, if so, what conclusion they have made about your actions/life? I fear that someone would eventually stop watching me as it must be incredibly boring!
Just about every day after work, Matt and I go over to the new house we are building.We pass this one house on the street we will live on, but way farther up. This lady lives there and I don't know if she lives alone or what, but she is ALWAYS outside on the phone. And, it always looks like she is really giving it to someone. Can someone really argue that much, as I assume? If she is having pleasant happy conversation, she's totaling fooling me. Good grief, her life must be like a soap opera. Maybe she's talking to her ex-husband or something and they really still hate each other. She's always in the yard walking around, pacing really. She's either on her cell or her cordless phone. Cordless phone sounds so outdated. It's as if people actually use other phones these days. I mean, we have them, but we don't use them a whole lot. But, I digress. Anyway, she's become something of an interest to me and every time I pass her house now, I look to see if she is out there in the yard, pacing back and forth and giving someone down the country. She usually is and it doesn't look pretty. I feel sorry for the person(s) on the other end, whoever they are. You would think they would stop calling or block her number eventually. I find it hard to believe that she is talking to someone different every time. I can only imagine what she says to customer service people. The first time I saw her I thought she might have been locked out of her house and was in a tizzy and complaining to the person on the other end of the phone. Now, I know quite differently. She apparently finds a hobby of harrassing people. Poor, poor souls.
I go pretty much the same route to work every day, five days a week. I pass the cemetery where all of my grandparents are buried. It is natural, I think, to look each time I go by. I've always found it to be a very soothing cemetery with beautiful statues. I was sort of mesmerized by them when I was a kid. I've been noticing in the last couple of months that I have been taking this way that just about every morning, I'd say at least four times in the five that I go that way, there is a man who sits at one of the graves. He drives a white truck and he is an older man. He always has a plastic chair in the back of his truck. I've passed by several times while he is just pulling up and getting out. He pulls up, gets his chair out, and sits at one of the graves. I noticed that all the flowers on the graves around him have pink and purple flowers so I am just assuming that he is visiting his wife. He usually smokes while he is out there but I haven't seen him talking. I always think he is, though. It is one of the sweetest and saddest things I've ever seen, simultaneously. I always think that he must have lost his wife and he goes to talk to her every day because he really misses her and there is a hole in his life where she was at one time.
He has become something of a comfort to me. It's comforting that I see him every single day just about. He's very consistent, although I haven't seen him this week. It may be too hot or maybe he has something else to do. I always wonder when I don't see him and I fear he may be sick. I don't know him at all, but I sort of care about him. He makes me think about the kind of love that he must have had for his wife. I don't know anyone that goes to see their loved ones every day at the cemetary. I don't know anyone that consistent. It makes me wonder, if I died, would anyone care to come and hang out at my grave every day after my passing?
He must really miss her and it makes me sad that she died and they can't spend time together anymore. I always picture him not knowing how to cook or do laundry or anything since she died. I suppose I picture this because he is old himself and I believe he may come from the same generation as my grandparents. The one where gender roles were cut and dry and men didn't cook, unless it was barbecue, and women didn't work outside the home. I find this to be a common situation when the wife dies before the husband. After 50+ years together, the man doesn't know how to cook or balance a checkbook or do laundry. He has depended on his wife for pretty much all of his adult life. I don't know this to be the man's situation, but I picture it that way. He usually wears a t-shirt and shorts if that makes any difference. I'm digressing, again.
I find it so bittersweet every time I see him there. I enjoy seeing him every day but I feel bad that he might be sad each time he is there. I think about the love between them and it makes me wonder if that kind of love actually exists anymore. Do people care enough anymore to visit someone they loved every day? I visit the graves of my grandparents usually once a year either at Easter or Mother's Day when I take a spring bouquet of flowers for the graves. I never talk to them. Sometimes I wish I could. He makes me want to go more often, as I wonder if it could be therapeutic to talk them, even though I know they can't talk back and are probably not listening. There have been many times in my life that I wish I could talk to my Maw-Maw because I know she would give me great advice.
I hope that it is comforting to him to talk to her. I also hope that each time a little of his sadness fades. I admire and appreciate his consistency and devotion to her and I only hope that one day someone will miss me enough to visit me every day.
Just about every day after work, Matt and I go over to the new house we are building.We pass this one house on the street we will live on, but way farther up. This lady lives there and I don't know if she lives alone or what, but she is ALWAYS outside on the phone. And, it always looks like she is really giving it to someone. Can someone really argue that much, as I assume? If she is having pleasant happy conversation, she's totaling fooling me. Good grief, her life must be like a soap opera. Maybe she's talking to her ex-husband or something and they really still hate each other. She's always in the yard walking around, pacing really. She's either on her cell or her cordless phone. Cordless phone sounds so outdated. It's as if people actually use other phones these days. I mean, we have them, but we don't use them a whole lot. But, I digress. Anyway, she's become something of an interest to me and every time I pass her house now, I look to see if she is out there in the yard, pacing back and forth and giving someone down the country. She usually is and it doesn't look pretty. I feel sorry for the person(s) on the other end, whoever they are. You would think they would stop calling or block her number eventually. I find it hard to believe that she is talking to someone different every time. I can only imagine what she says to customer service people. The first time I saw her I thought she might have been locked out of her house and was in a tizzy and complaining to the person on the other end of the phone. Now, I know quite differently. She apparently finds a hobby of harrassing people. Poor, poor souls.
I go pretty much the same route to work every day, five days a week. I pass the cemetery where all of my grandparents are buried. It is natural, I think, to look each time I go by. I've always found it to be a very soothing cemetery with beautiful statues. I was sort of mesmerized by them when I was a kid. I've been noticing in the last couple of months that I have been taking this way that just about every morning, I'd say at least four times in the five that I go that way, there is a man who sits at one of the graves. He drives a white truck and he is an older man. He always has a plastic chair in the back of his truck. I've passed by several times while he is just pulling up and getting out. He pulls up, gets his chair out, and sits at one of the graves. I noticed that all the flowers on the graves around him have pink and purple flowers so I am just assuming that he is visiting his wife. He usually smokes while he is out there but I haven't seen him talking. I always think he is, though. It is one of the sweetest and saddest things I've ever seen, simultaneously. I always think that he must have lost his wife and he goes to talk to her every day because he really misses her and there is a hole in his life where she was at one time.
He has become something of a comfort to me. It's comforting that I see him every single day just about. He's very consistent, although I haven't seen him this week. It may be too hot or maybe he has something else to do. I always wonder when I don't see him and I fear he may be sick. I don't know him at all, but I sort of care about him. He makes me think about the kind of love that he must have had for his wife. I don't know anyone that goes to see their loved ones every day at the cemetary. I don't know anyone that consistent. It makes me wonder, if I died, would anyone care to come and hang out at my grave every day after my passing?
He must really miss her and it makes me sad that she died and they can't spend time together anymore. I always picture him not knowing how to cook or do laundry or anything since she died. I suppose I picture this because he is old himself and I believe he may come from the same generation as my grandparents. The one where gender roles were cut and dry and men didn't cook, unless it was barbecue, and women didn't work outside the home. I find this to be a common situation when the wife dies before the husband. After 50+ years together, the man doesn't know how to cook or balance a checkbook or do laundry. He has depended on his wife for pretty much all of his adult life. I don't know this to be the man's situation, but I picture it that way. He usually wears a t-shirt and shorts if that makes any difference. I'm digressing, again.
I find it so bittersweet every time I see him there. I enjoy seeing him every day but I feel bad that he might be sad each time he is there. I think about the love between them and it makes me wonder if that kind of love actually exists anymore. Do people care enough anymore to visit someone they loved every day? I visit the graves of my grandparents usually once a year either at Easter or Mother's Day when I take a spring bouquet of flowers for the graves. I never talk to them. Sometimes I wish I could. He makes me want to go more often, as I wonder if it could be therapeutic to talk them, even though I know they can't talk back and are probably not listening. There have been many times in my life that I wish I could talk to my Maw-Maw because I know she would give me great advice.
I hope that it is comforting to him to talk to her. I also hope that each time a little of his sadness fades. I admire and appreciate his consistency and devotion to her and I only hope that one day someone will miss me enough to visit me every day.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Two Little Dogs
I'm not sure if anyone else would find this strange, but I do. On Thursday, I was driving to work on the new bypass. Running down the right-hand side of the road, going in the opposite direction of traffic was a small Dachshund. He was black and seemed very friendly. He seemed to belong to someone as he had on a little collar. He was just running like he was going to play somewhere. I thought it was sweet but didn't think much of it.
Yesterday, I took a different route to work. I went up Quintard. Right about the block where Wendy's is, I saw another Dachshund running down the right-hand side of the road, going in the opposite direction of traffice. This time, it was a lighter, almost blondish color. It seemed really cute but I didn't see a collar.
I wouldn't normally think anything at all about seeing dogs running down the side of the road, stray or not. I just don't expect to see two little Dachshunds running down the side of the road. While they are very smart and can be very fast, Dachshunds just don't normally seem like the kind of dogs that venture out as much as Labs or German Shepherds. They don't normally travel out too far. Both of these dogs were alone and definitely traveling somewhere. In general, I think of Dachshunds as only going as far as their yards when they have to use the bathroom or their backyards for playing, not running down the Anniston bypass or on the corner of Wendy's on Quintard.
I suppose I just have to wonder what exactly is going on? Was it just a coincidence or is God trying to tell me that I need to adopt a little Dachshund? I just thought it was neat that this happened to me at two completely different times, on different roads; yet, two days in a row!
Yesterday, I took a different route to work. I went up Quintard. Right about the block where Wendy's is, I saw another Dachshund running down the right-hand side of the road, going in the opposite direction of traffice. This time, it was a lighter, almost blondish color. It seemed really cute but I didn't see a collar.
I wouldn't normally think anything at all about seeing dogs running down the side of the road, stray or not. I just don't expect to see two little Dachshunds running down the side of the road. While they are very smart and can be very fast, Dachshunds just don't normally seem like the kind of dogs that venture out as much as Labs or German Shepherds. They don't normally travel out too far. Both of these dogs were alone and definitely traveling somewhere. In general, I think of Dachshunds as only going as far as their yards when they have to use the bathroom or their backyards for playing, not running down the Anniston bypass or on the corner of Wendy's on Quintard.
I suppose I just have to wonder what exactly is going on? Was it just a coincidence or is God trying to tell me that I need to adopt a little Dachshund? I just thought it was neat that this happened to me at two completely different times, on different roads; yet, two days in a row!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Awkwardness
I was asked at work today by my friend, Stephanie, to blog about why I hate singing. So, here goes....
It's not the singing that I hate so much as the eye contact. It is just so awkward. Here's the thing, if you are singing, you are there for the entertainment, I don't have to look if I don't want to. I hate it when singers try to draw you in by making eye contact. I know, I had to take Speech 101 too and I know that eye contact is esssential for making your point. I'm actually really into making eye contact when I am talking to people. I find that it reveals honesty and openness. I'm very picky about my eye contact when I shake someone's hand. It's sort of a thing I do. I squeeze firmly and make eye contact. So, in general, I have nothing against eye contact; unless, someone is singing.
I think everyone has been to a show where the person singing locks eyes with you and for a few seconds, you feel uncomfortable, or at least I do. I just don't want to look. It's embarrassing for some reason. I've always felt that way. I remember, as a child, not wanting to be volunteered to go up and help with magic tricks at shows. I also remember that when Ronald McDonald came to our school, he would always pick the kids with the best posture. I tried to slouch my shoulders as much as possible without looking obvious. I DID NOT want to help Ronald McDonald.
Do you know what is even more awkward than someone making eye contact with you while they are singing? Two people singing together that look at each other intently while singing. Don't get me started on Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. We get the point, you have the most active romantic life of any couple, ever. We don't need to see you undress one another with your eyes. It makes the entire audience uncomfortable. I suppose it's the awkward chemistry that is often purposefully orchestrated that I find weird, too. It's sort of like when Fleetwood Mac did that big reunion record and had the special on VH1 about 13 years ago. I'm pretty sure the producers asked Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks (yes, Josh B, if you are reading this, Lindsay is the boy and Stevie is the girl, LOL) to really play up the hot and heavy eye contact and give the audience the idea that there is some unresolved sexual tension there. They really wanted people to think that after all these years, they still had some serious chemistry. They were laying it on pretty thick. Even at home, it felt slightly awkward. Poor audience members. They do it for effect but it makes me squirm.
I sang in the chorus in elementary and high school. Pretty much from 5th grade until 10th grade I performed in choral concerts. I usually didn't make eye contact with someone, unless it was an accident. I generally tried to focus on an inanimate object. Number one, I didn't necessarily want to be up there. Number two, how weird is it to sing to a stranger while deliberately staring into their eyes? Pretty weird. I loved being in chorus, I just didn't love performing that much. I guess that's why dance was so great, I never saw the audience. The lights were too bright to see anyone's face. I knew they were out there, but I couldn't see them. So, in a way, they weren't really there. Out of sight, out of mind. Sort of.
So, yeah, nothing makes me more uncomfortable than when people sing to me or at me. I like to think that perfect strangers are singing at me. And, it makes me uneasy. It seems to be a running joke these days, as people do it now deliberately to make me feel uncomfortable!! I think it's hilarious at times, like last Saturday when I was serenaded by a few friends who broke out the karaoke machine and started singing Van Halen and Pink Floyd to me. Special thanks to Jamie, Blake and Mallory! It was really funny!!! I didn't want to make eye contact, but it was so hilarious! In general though, like at plays and things like that, I just want to be anonymous and I don't want the singers to try to draw me in with their eyes!!! It's just too awkward!!
It's not the singing that I hate so much as the eye contact. It is just so awkward. Here's the thing, if you are singing, you are there for the entertainment, I don't have to look if I don't want to. I hate it when singers try to draw you in by making eye contact. I know, I had to take Speech 101 too and I know that eye contact is esssential for making your point. I'm actually really into making eye contact when I am talking to people. I find that it reveals honesty and openness. I'm very picky about my eye contact when I shake someone's hand. It's sort of a thing I do. I squeeze firmly and make eye contact. So, in general, I have nothing against eye contact; unless, someone is singing.
I think everyone has been to a show where the person singing locks eyes with you and for a few seconds, you feel uncomfortable, or at least I do. I just don't want to look. It's embarrassing for some reason. I've always felt that way. I remember, as a child, not wanting to be volunteered to go up and help with magic tricks at shows. I also remember that when Ronald McDonald came to our school, he would always pick the kids with the best posture. I tried to slouch my shoulders as much as possible without looking obvious. I DID NOT want to help Ronald McDonald.
Do you know what is even more awkward than someone making eye contact with you while they are singing? Two people singing together that look at each other intently while singing. Don't get me started on Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. We get the point, you have the most active romantic life of any couple, ever. We don't need to see you undress one another with your eyes. It makes the entire audience uncomfortable. I suppose it's the awkward chemistry that is often purposefully orchestrated that I find weird, too. It's sort of like when Fleetwood Mac did that big reunion record and had the special on VH1 about 13 years ago. I'm pretty sure the producers asked Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks (yes, Josh B, if you are reading this, Lindsay is the boy and Stevie is the girl, LOL) to really play up the hot and heavy eye contact and give the audience the idea that there is some unresolved sexual tension there. They really wanted people to think that after all these years, they still had some serious chemistry. They were laying it on pretty thick. Even at home, it felt slightly awkward. Poor audience members. They do it for effect but it makes me squirm.
I sang in the chorus in elementary and high school. Pretty much from 5th grade until 10th grade I performed in choral concerts. I usually didn't make eye contact with someone, unless it was an accident. I generally tried to focus on an inanimate object. Number one, I didn't necessarily want to be up there. Number two, how weird is it to sing to a stranger while deliberately staring into their eyes? Pretty weird. I loved being in chorus, I just didn't love performing that much. I guess that's why dance was so great, I never saw the audience. The lights were too bright to see anyone's face. I knew they were out there, but I couldn't see them. So, in a way, they weren't really there. Out of sight, out of mind. Sort of.
So, yeah, nothing makes me more uncomfortable than when people sing to me or at me. I like to think that perfect strangers are singing at me. And, it makes me uneasy. It seems to be a running joke these days, as people do it now deliberately to make me feel uncomfortable!! I think it's hilarious at times, like last Saturday when I was serenaded by a few friends who broke out the karaoke machine and started singing Van Halen and Pink Floyd to me. Special thanks to Jamie, Blake and Mallory! It was really funny!!! I didn't want to make eye contact, but it was so hilarious! In general though, like at plays and things like that, I just want to be anonymous and I don't want the singers to try to draw me in with their eyes!!! It's just too awkward!!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Best Friends
Last night, I was holding Heath while I was watching tv. All of a sudden, I began to think of all the times we had spent together. I thought about the day we adopted him and how he came right up to us at the shelter, almost like he was picking us out as his new parents. I thought about the ride home when Matt and I tried to name him and finally settled on Heath. Heath was scared during that ride home. It was understandable, he didn't know us and we were taking him to a strange new place.
I'll never forget giving him his little collar with a tiny bell on it and how proud he was of it. When we first brought Heath home, our house was newly renovated and we had decided we didn't want animals living inside. I stayed with him most of the night but eventually went inside and went to bed. The next morning, I walked outside and couldn't find him. I was immediately scared and began to call him. After a short time, I heard his little bell and he came out from under our house. I'm guessing he spent the night under there. I was so relieved that my new friend had not run away!! Shortly afterwards, about a month, I finally talked Matt into letting me move Heath inside. He's been a spoiled little prince ever since.
I started thinking about the time when I was the most sickest I've ever been. I had a horrible kidney infection and after an emergency trip to the after hours clinic, a shot, and tons of pain and nausea, I finally settled on the couch very late that night. Matt went to bed and I tried my best to sleep. Heath never left my side. He slept on the top of the couch, right beside me. He gave me comfort at one of the worst times in my life. I truly believe he was doing everything he could to take care of me. Just watching over me was pretty much all he could do, but it meant more than anything to me.
I thought about how it makes my day/night when Heath sleeps beside me and snuggles with me in the morning. I love nothing more than taking a nap with my Heath. We love sleeping on our couch with our special blanket that smells like us.
I really love being the one who feeds him breakfast every morning. I love how he always "talks" to me when I ask if he is hungry or if he wants breakfast. He never wants to miss a meal!
I suppose it just all flooded back to me last night. All the wonderful memories with Heath and how much we have been through together in the last six, almost seven, years. Had I ever known that he would be my best friend, I would've been looking forward to meeting him my whole life. I just couldn't ask for a better friend. I truly love him with all my heart. Just this afternoon, when I got home from work, he came and sat in my lap. I love how he can't wait to sit with me when I come home. It's as if I have been away for a very long time and he genuinely misses me.
I also started to think about my sweet Cam. He truly is the sweetest dog, ever. The moment we saw him at the shelter, I was so intrigued by him. I had never seen a dog with a coat like his. I think we both knew he was the one for us at the same time. He was so friendly and had the whitest teeth of any dog I had ever seen. We took him home the day before Thanksgiving. I will never forget how much he liked riding in the backseat of Matt's truck. He just took to it as if he had been doing it his whole life.
I had so much fun buying him toys and getting him settled into his new house and kennel. Teaching him to walk on a leash and playing with him was so much fun! We have had the best time with him. He loves riding in the car and he is the perfect dog for playing outdoors. One of my favorite things to do on Saturday mornings is to take him through the drive-thru at Jack's and get him bacon. He really loves that! He absolutely loves going out to the new house to play. He can romp and play and roam free and splash in the pond. Did I mention that he loves water? I think it is the large part of Lab in him. He can play fetch for hours and just watching him run around like a puppy is so much fun to me.
He is always up for playing and he always loves me. While Matt is his master, I'm pretty sure he sees me as a playmate. He is truly one of the smartest dogs I have ever met. His long legs are so funny when he hops through the yard to get his Kong.
I love Cam so much. He has made the best playmate I could ever ask for. He can always make me smile. His sweet face and brown eyes just melt my heart. He is the perfect addition to our family.
So, I have two very best friends. I love them both with all my heart and I know how truly blessed I am to have each of them. They are perfect in every way and I am just grateful that I get to hang out with them every day!
I'll never forget giving him his little collar with a tiny bell on it and how proud he was of it. When we first brought Heath home, our house was newly renovated and we had decided we didn't want animals living inside. I stayed with him most of the night but eventually went inside and went to bed. The next morning, I walked outside and couldn't find him. I was immediately scared and began to call him. After a short time, I heard his little bell and he came out from under our house. I'm guessing he spent the night under there. I was so relieved that my new friend had not run away!! Shortly afterwards, about a month, I finally talked Matt into letting me move Heath inside. He's been a spoiled little prince ever since.
I started thinking about the time when I was the most sickest I've ever been. I had a horrible kidney infection and after an emergency trip to the after hours clinic, a shot, and tons of pain and nausea, I finally settled on the couch very late that night. Matt went to bed and I tried my best to sleep. Heath never left my side. He slept on the top of the couch, right beside me. He gave me comfort at one of the worst times in my life. I truly believe he was doing everything he could to take care of me. Just watching over me was pretty much all he could do, but it meant more than anything to me.
I thought about how it makes my day/night when Heath sleeps beside me and snuggles with me in the morning. I love nothing more than taking a nap with my Heath. We love sleeping on our couch with our special blanket that smells like us.
I really love being the one who feeds him breakfast every morning. I love how he always "talks" to me when I ask if he is hungry or if he wants breakfast. He never wants to miss a meal!
I suppose it just all flooded back to me last night. All the wonderful memories with Heath and how much we have been through together in the last six, almost seven, years. Had I ever known that he would be my best friend, I would've been looking forward to meeting him my whole life. I just couldn't ask for a better friend. I truly love him with all my heart. Just this afternoon, when I got home from work, he came and sat in my lap. I love how he can't wait to sit with me when I come home. It's as if I have been away for a very long time and he genuinely misses me.
I also started to think about my sweet Cam. He truly is the sweetest dog, ever. The moment we saw him at the shelter, I was so intrigued by him. I had never seen a dog with a coat like his. I think we both knew he was the one for us at the same time. He was so friendly and had the whitest teeth of any dog I had ever seen. We took him home the day before Thanksgiving. I will never forget how much he liked riding in the backseat of Matt's truck. He just took to it as if he had been doing it his whole life.
I had so much fun buying him toys and getting him settled into his new house and kennel. Teaching him to walk on a leash and playing with him was so much fun! We have had the best time with him. He loves riding in the car and he is the perfect dog for playing outdoors. One of my favorite things to do on Saturday mornings is to take him through the drive-thru at Jack's and get him bacon. He really loves that! He absolutely loves going out to the new house to play. He can romp and play and roam free and splash in the pond. Did I mention that he loves water? I think it is the large part of Lab in him. He can play fetch for hours and just watching him run around like a puppy is so much fun to me.
He is always up for playing and he always loves me. While Matt is his master, I'm pretty sure he sees me as a playmate. He is truly one of the smartest dogs I have ever met. His long legs are so funny when he hops through the yard to get his Kong.
I love Cam so much. He has made the best playmate I could ever ask for. He can always make me smile. His sweet face and brown eyes just melt my heart. He is the perfect addition to our family.
So, I have two very best friends. I love them both with all my heart and I know how truly blessed I am to have each of them. They are perfect in every way and I am just grateful that I get to hang out with them every day!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Sweetest Dog In The World
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Saturday, July 16, 2011
Lazy Saturday
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Choices, Choices
I am one of those people who likes to keep things neutral and light and airy. Some people like a lot of color but I prefer earthy natural tones, especially for the walls. Nothing is more jarring to me than homes where every single room is painted a different color and they are all dark colors. Again, a lot of people like that but it is just not my style. There's nothing really wrong with it.
My problem is that they make so many shades of cream, off-white and white that it is nearly impossible to choose. Some shades of cream and white look slightly green while others look blue, peach or mauve. I have hung the color choices in my new dining room and tried to pick, then in our bedroom and tried to pick, and they look totally different in different rooms. I am extremely picky about most things. Our house has been a whole new realm of picky. I have worried, fretted, lost sleep and obsessed over every detail. This paint will be no different I am sure.
I know it seems so easy to just pick out two shades of cream. It is much more difficult than it looks; especially, when I am committing these colors to the entire house. That's the problem. I just can't commit to colors. That is why I chose to go with creams but even that choice has led to a myriad of possibilities. It looks like I will be paying the paint store another visit this week. I know eventually I am just going to have to go for it and choose. I mean, it's not like we can't buy a small amount and paint one room and see how it looks. We shall see how it goes. I am hoping we get it right the first time. I can't wait to see the walls painted!
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Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Do You Think It's Weird?
Okay, so I suppose I am just in the mood to write tonight. I have had so much on my mind lately that this seems to be a bit of a catharsis for me. I've been pondering my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) tendencies lately. FYI, a lot of people say, "I'm so OCD," or "that's so OCD," like it's relatively common. And, maybe it is. But, I think I have classic OCD. I've really had it since I was a child. Here's how it is manifested these days.
1. I can only eat crackers in odd numbers. Usually I have crackers in numbers of five or seven. Yeah, it's weird. I think something bad happened one day when I ate four saltine crackers in like ninth grade so I stopped eating them in even numbers.
2. Each night, I have to check my alarm clock an odd number of times, but not thirteen. It is repetitive every night. Matt can confirm this. I just do it until it feels right. Usually 11-15 times. I'm terrified that it won't go off. I guess I could get wise and use my phone, or put batteries in my alarm clock. I don't know why I haven't yet.
3. I used to fluff my pillows three times before laying down at night. I've stopped this recently. Not sure why I stopped, but I don't feel weird about it.
4. I find myself checking the windows at work more than normal in the afternoon before I leave. I'm concerned that I may accidentally leave one open. I am also concerned with making sure the faucet to the sink is off, even if it hasn't been used.
5. In general, often I have a hard time picking out things. For instance, I bought a new keychain recently. This was months in the making. I kept wanting a new one but I was afraid that it might bring me bad luck if I got one. Finally, one night it just felt right so I took the plunge. Something so trivial and I must say, I've thoroughly enjoyed my new keychain. The same with my wallet. I've carried the same wallet for over a year and I was hesitant to change it for fear that something bad may happen. I changed it on Sunday. I kinda miss my old one but I love the new one too! I don't know why I have a hard time picking out things. I mean, it's a Brighton keychain and I love it, but it shouldn't be a big deal. Even in the store, things have to be flawless or I can't buy them. I was like that as a kid. If the box didn't look perfect, I couldn't do it.
6. Over the shoulder for luck with the salt. I think it's an Italian thing. Maybe I learned it from Rachel Ray. Every time I use the salt, I have to throw some over my left shoulder for luck. Hey, I need all the luck I can get.
What's got me thinking lately is, what would happen if I didn't do these things? Anything? When you have OCD, or in my case, I hope it is just borderline OCD, you have recurring thoughts. These thoughts are often the worst-case scenario type. For instance, in my mind, if I don't make sure the faucet is off, the entire office will flood and I will be accountable. If I don't check my alarm an odd number of times, it won't go off and I will be late for work and get fired. Just crazy things like that. Often, you can't shut your mind off. You think things that you know will never happen but you can't convince yourself of that.
I must admit, it's been a whole lot better in the last couple of months. I'm trying a new approach. I'm generally trying to be more laid back about things. I tell myself, "It's done, stop." It seems really trivial, but it can consume a lot of time. I'm just wondering, what if I stop all of it? Will the earth shatter? Probably not.
1. I can only eat crackers in odd numbers. Usually I have crackers in numbers of five or seven. Yeah, it's weird. I think something bad happened one day when I ate four saltine crackers in like ninth grade so I stopped eating them in even numbers.
2. Each night, I have to check my alarm clock an odd number of times, but not thirteen. It is repetitive every night. Matt can confirm this. I just do it until it feels right. Usually 11-15 times. I'm terrified that it won't go off. I guess I could get wise and use my phone, or put batteries in my alarm clock. I don't know why I haven't yet.
3. I used to fluff my pillows three times before laying down at night. I've stopped this recently. Not sure why I stopped, but I don't feel weird about it.
4. I find myself checking the windows at work more than normal in the afternoon before I leave. I'm concerned that I may accidentally leave one open. I am also concerned with making sure the faucet to the sink is off, even if it hasn't been used.
5. In general, often I have a hard time picking out things. For instance, I bought a new keychain recently. This was months in the making. I kept wanting a new one but I was afraid that it might bring me bad luck if I got one. Finally, one night it just felt right so I took the plunge. Something so trivial and I must say, I've thoroughly enjoyed my new keychain. The same with my wallet. I've carried the same wallet for over a year and I was hesitant to change it for fear that something bad may happen. I changed it on Sunday. I kinda miss my old one but I love the new one too! I don't know why I have a hard time picking out things. I mean, it's a Brighton keychain and I love it, but it shouldn't be a big deal. Even in the store, things have to be flawless or I can't buy them. I was like that as a kid. If the box didn't look perfect, I couldn't do it.
6. Over the shoulder for luck with the salt. I think it's an Italian thing. Maybe I learned it from Rachel Ray. Every time I use the salt, I have to throw some over my left shoulder for luck. Hey, I need all the luck I can get.
What's got me thinking lately is, what would happen if I didn't do these things? Anything? When you have OCD, or in my case, I hope it is just borderline OCD, you have recurring thoughts. These thoughts are often the worst-case scenario type. For instance, in my mind, if I don't make sure the faucet is off, the entire office will flood and I will be accountable. If I don't check my alarm an odd number of times, it won't go off and I will be late for work and get fired. Just crazy things like that. Often, you can't shut your mind off. You think things that you know will never happen but you can't convince yourself of that.
I must admit, it's been a whole lot better in the last couple of months. I'm trying a new approach. I'm generally trying to be more laid back about things. I tell myself, "It's done, stop." It seems really trivial, but it can consume a lot of time. I'm just wondering, what if I stop all of it? Will the earth shatter? Probably not.
Not Cool Stuff (That You Will Probably Never See Me Do)
I've been thinking a lot lately about the "American dream" and about what it means and how I factor into it. Let me just say, first, that I am all about some capitalism. The whole Benjamin Franklin rags to riches thing, I'm feeling it. I have pretty strong political views and I sway to one side pretty severely. While I feel very intensely about my views, I generally choose not to voice them openly. I do this because A: there's nothing more obnoxious than someone trying to force their views on others or thinking they are smart enough to sway another's heart and B: I just think it is sort of a private matter. I feel that if you know me, you don't have to ask what I believe.
This post is not about that. This post is about the "cultural" or "societal" things people do that I find mundane and, at times, repulsive. Rites of passage or societal acceptances, if you will. These may seem trivial, but I have come to abhor these things. I feel that I have come to despise what they stand for more than the actual acts.
Here are things you will never see me do (and if you do, feel free to kick me one day, I'll need it):
1. Take pictures at the beach in white shirts and khaki shorts. Really, do people really think that looks natural? Get real, it's sweet and all, but this is not Margaritaville. Let's kick it old-school and take actual pictures on the beach, like in swimsuits and with sandcastles and the like.
2. Post pictures of my naked pregnant belly. Again, I get it, your uterus is expanding and it seems earth-shattering. I don't want to see it!!!! Some things are still sacred. I'd like to believe that growing a new human being at the will of God is one of them. Aside from that, read my last blog about parents and you will have more evidence of why you'll probably never see pics of my pregnant belly.
3. Monogram every friggin thing in my house. Again, I like it, it's classic and cute. Towels, handbags, etc. Enough is enough. My stuff is my stuff. I don't have to have my initials on it to prove it. Anyway, it's my house. That should be clue numero uno that the belongings therein are the possession of yours truly.
4. Have pictures with inspirational sayings around my house. I don't need to be reminded to "Live, Laugh, Love." In general, I like to do these things on a daily basis. I'm pretty sure that a mass-produced piece of artwork from a store like Kirkland's is not going to inspire me to "Live Life to the Fullest." It's just tacky after awhile. I will admit, that in my bathroom, I have two pictures hung that have sayings. These are mainly still there because I could never really find a good theme for my bathroom so I hung them there five years ago and left them. I don't think I've ever felt a tinge of great inspiration from them.
5. Wear pajama pants to Wal-Mart, or anywhere else besides the E.R. Yoga pants, yes. I've never been that comfortable. I usually go to Wal-Mart on Sunday mornings for copies of The Birmingham News. I do this in yoga pants. It's usually around 6:30 in the a.m. Let's get it ladies, if I can do it in the morning, you can do it in the middle of the day. You're not that busy.
6. Allow my husband to "let me off" at the front of the store so I don't have to walk up there. Let's get real, we all need all the exercise we can get. Nothing makes me more mad than seeing people let their wives off at the front of the store. Have we, as Americans, gotten that lazy? Usually, these people need exercise worse than the rest of us and, coincidentally, are wearing their pajama pants.
I could go on for days, and I probably will. These are just a few of the things I despise about our culture. It's the lazy, mass-produced, hedonistic tendencies that I despise. I want no part of it, EVER.
This post is not about that. This post is about the "cultural" or "societal" things people do that I find mundane and, at times, repulsive. Rites of passage or societal acceptances, if you will. These may seem trivial, but I have come to abhor these things. I feel that I have come to despise what they stand for more than the actual acts.
Here are things you will never see me do (and if you do, feel free to kick me one day, I'll need it):
1. Take pictures at the beach in white shirts and khaki shorts. Really, do people really think that looks natural? Get real, it's sweet and all, but this is not Margaritaville. Let's kick it old-school and take actual pictures on the beach, like in swimsuits and with sandcastles and the like.
2. Post pictures of my naked pregnant belly. Again, I get it, your uterus is expanding and it seems earth-shattering. I don't want to see it!!!! Some things are still sacred. I'd like to believe that growing a new human being at the will of God is one of them. Aside from that, read my last blog about parents and you will have more evidence of why you'll probably never see pics of my pregnant belly.
3. Monogram every friggin thing in my house. Again, I like it, it's classic and cute. Towels, handbags, etc. Enough is enough. My stuff is my stuff. I don't have to have my initials on it to prove it. Anyway, it's my house. That should be clue numero uno that the belongings therein are the possession of yours truly.
4. Have pictures with inspirational sayings around my house. I don't need to be reminded to "Live, Laugh, Love." In general, I like to do these things on a daily basis. I'm pretty sure that a mass-produced piece of artwork from a store like Kirkland's is not going to inspire me to "Live Life to the Fullest." It's just tacky after awhile. I will admit, that in my bathroom, I have two pictures hung that have sayings. These are mainly still there because I could never really find a good theme for my bathroom so I hung them there five years ago and left them. I don't think I've ever felt a tinge of great inspiration from them.
5. Wear pajama pants to Wal-Mart, or anywhere else besides the E.R. Yoga pants, yes. I've never been that comfortable. I usually go to Wal-Mart on Sunday mornings for copies of The Birmingham News. I do this in yoga pants. It's usually around 6:30 in the a.m. Let's get it ladies, if I can do it in the morning, you can do it in the middle of the day. You're not that busy.
6. Allow my husband to "let me off" at the front of the store so I don't have to walk up there. Let's get real, we all need all the exercise we can get. Nothing makes me more mad than seeing people let their wives off at the front of the store. Have we, as Americans, gotten that lazy? Usually, these people need exercise worse than the rest of us and, coincidentally, are wearing their pajama pants.
I could go on for days, and I probably will. These are just a few of the things I despise about our culture. It's the lazy, mass-produced, hedonistic tendencies that I despise. I want no part of it, EVER.
A Pretty Cool Idea
So, I read today that a restaurant in Pennsylvania has decided to ban children under six years of age. I think this is the best idea I've heard in a while. Finally, someone feels the same way I do about how much of a nuisance it is to have children screaming in the background while you are trying to enjoy a meal.
Don't get me wrong. I like kids. They're cute, they say cute things, etc. I just prefer to eat without them screaming and running around me while their parents are completely oblivious. I have no desire to ever be said parents, EVER. I couldn't agree more with the restaurant owner. Kids are NOT the center of the universe and many of us don't think it's cute when they run around like wild animals. If I lived anywhere close to that restaurant, my patronage would increase exponentially. I understand that parents probably are so enamored with their children that it only seems natural that the rest of the world can't wait to experience their "personalities." I beg to differ. I really don't find it cute when children interrupt, refuse to eat, whine, etc. Just the other evening, my sister and I were eating in a restaurant and a young couple of parents had their child in a high chair at the end of the table. I mean, not only was the child loud, it seemed as if everything the kid did was the coolest thing ever to the parents. We, meaning us and the other couples on dates in the room, had to hear about it too. I kept thinking, "Get a babysitter and give it a rest." And, did I mention the stuff that was sprawled out around them? I'm pretty sure I saw two diaper bags. Seriously, the child isn't even walking yet and it has more "stuff" than me. Is that really necessary?
In short, I'm loving this guy's decision. Again, I like kids and they're cool and all, but I prefer to eat in peace. Let it also be shown for the record that I have been eating out since I was in the womb. My sister and I were expected to act as adults at the dinner table. This included ordering for ourselves and using utensils properly. My mom also cracked the whip about manners and posture. Maybe I should open an etiquette school for kindergartners. Lord knows, their parents aren't doing a good job of it.
Don't get me wrong. I like kids. They're cute, they say cute things, etc. I just prefer to eat without them screaming and running around me while their parents are completely oblivious. I have no desire to ever be said parents, EVER. I couldn't agree more with the restaurant owner. Kids are NOT the center of the universe and many of us don't think it's cute when they run around like wild animals. If I lived anywhere close to that restaurant, my patronage would increase exponentially. I understand that parents probably are so enamored with their children that it only seems natural that the rest of the world can't wait to experience their "personalities." I beg to differ. I really don't find it cute when children interrupt, refuse to eat, whine, etc. Just the other evening, my sister and I were eating in a restaurant and a young couple of parents had their child in a high chair at the end of the table. I mean, not only was the child loud, it seemed as if everything the kid did was the coolest thing ever to the parents. We, meaning us and the other couples on dates in the room, had to hear about it too. I kept thinking, "Get a babysitter and give it a rest." And, did I mention the stuff that was sprawled out around them? I'm pretty sure I saw two diaper bags. Seriously, the child isn't even walking yet and it has more "stuff" than me. Is that really necessary?
In short, I'm loving this guy's decision. Again, I like kids and they're cool and all, but I prefer to eat in peace. Let it also be shown for the record that I have been eating out since I was in the womb. My sister and I were expected to act as adults at the dinner table. This included ordering for ourselves and using utensils properly. My mom also cracked the whip about manners and posture. Maybe I should open an etiquette school for kindergartners. Lord knows, their parents aren't doing a good job of it.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Dinner With My Family
Last night I had dinner with my family. I am fortunate enough to be able to do this on a weekly basis, sometimes more often. Last night was a real treat. My dad is probably one of the best cooks in the whole world. He specializes in homemade lemonade, a treat I get on my birthday each year. He also specializes in steaks, chicken and breakfast. Last night he made steaks, baked potatoes (the best one I've ever had) and corn on the cob. It was truly one of the best meals I've eaten in a long time.
After dinner, my mom, Julie and I played Monopoly. My mom quickly beat the both of us into submission!! She pretty much had one half of the board with hotels on everything and neither Julie nor myself had the funds for rent over $1,000. I held onto my two favorites, Mediterranean and Baltic Avenues but I had to give them over to my mom in the end. I'm not sure why those two are my favorites. They are the cheapest on the board but I love them! Maybe it is their names. Rent is only $90.00 with three houses so it's not like you can actually make any money off them.
In general, last night was really fun. I love spending time with my family and I love being at home. I really believe that one never tires of visiting their childhood home, no matter how often. It is truly one place where you always feel loved and comfortable. I'm thankful that I get to spend so much time with my family. They mean the world to me!
After dinner, my mom, Julie and I played Monopoly. My mom quickly beat the both of us into submission!! She pretty much had one half of the board with hotels on everything and neither Julie nor myself had the funds for rent over $1,000. I held onto my two favorites, Mediterranean and Baltic Avenues but I had to give them over to my mom in the end. I'm not sure why those two are my favorites. They are the cheapest on the board but I love them! Maybe it is their names. Rent is only $90.00 with three houses so it's not like you can actually make any money off them.
In general, last night was really fun. I love spending time with my family and I love being at home. I really believe that one never tires of visiting their childhood home, no matter how often. It is truly one place where you always feel loved and comfortable. I'm thankful that I get to spend so much time with my family. They mean the world to me!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Bushels of Blueberries
Hopefully there will be lots more blueberries to pick soon. I savor them each summer as the season can be quite short and because nothing in the world compares to plump, juicy blueberries still warm from the sun. Our 4th of July was made complete with these beauties and I even made a delicious fruit salad with some of our bounty.
My fortune from Friday night's Chinese food is above. I don't know about gold, but we definitely have bushels of blueberries. To me, they are as good as gold and even sweeter!
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