Saturday, December 30, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Monday, December 25, 2006
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Having a friend who was a professional opera singer (that's Kari) certainly raises the level of the parlor music, but the group singing was just as much fun. I expected we'd maybe sing for an hour or two, but nearly four hours passed as the snow fell (14 inches during the evening) and it certainly felt a lot like Christmas as everyone had to dig out cars before they could try to maneuver down our unplowed street.
Hunter and Willow in particular were not satisfied with the private dog party upstairs, so came down and both of them impressed me with how well they settled into a group of strangers. Kari's parents are visiting, so we listened to Kari's mom tell stories of growing up in England, and her dad is rather a mad scientist as Kari describes him, and always has something interesting to say.
Naturally for us amateurs, the excuse of singing carols was really just to fill in the spaces between having Kari sing for us. Toward the end of the evening I asked her to sing "The Holy City" and though I couldn't see over my shoulder from the piano, I'm told that Hunter and Willow ended up in Kari's lap trying to peek down her throat, and when she chose to finish on a note way higher than the one that was written, it resonated thickly in my right eardrum and the dogs' heads nearly twisted off trying to see where that was coming from!
Thursday, December 21, 2006
It's like working at a preschool with the benefit of not having to deal with children....
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Ciaran Hinds looks exactly like my eight-year-old mind envisioned King Herod every time I read the Arthur Maxwell Bible Story books. On the flip side, Alexander Siddig looks out of place as Gabriel - sorry, but I just saw ST:DS9's Dr. Bashir. (He also has a way of appearing earnest that just looks menacing somehow.) Keisha Castle-Hughes (as Mary) may yet make a whole career out of her ability to look appropriately introspective. The breakout part in this is Oscar Issac as Joseph. Realizing that much of this story had to be invented (a strict interpretation from the Gospels would make a movie approximately 14 minutes long), Hardwicke believably fills those gaps, but what she chose to do with Joseph was wonderful. In the Bible, of course, he's the ultimate also-ran, second banana to the Almighty in the dad department. Yet in the veneration of Mary through the centuries, one has to think that God wouldn't have wanted her or Jesus stuck with a mediocre man. Here Joseph is portrayed as vital, intelligent, courageous, tough, and selfless - the sort of remarkable but truly human person that God might have wanted as a partner for Mary and a father for His son.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
"Alaskans, hold me accountable. And right back at ya."
"I will unambiguously, steadfastly and doggedly guard the interests of this great state as a mother naturally guards her own."
On behalf of women everywhere, can we get a do-over?
Monday, December 04, 2006
Even the solos didn't sound as ponderous as I've experienced them in the past. Near the end, I wept during "I know that my Redeemer liveth" - that was the first time I've ever heard that aria sung as a plain-spoken profession of faith in a time of personal devastation, exactly as it is in the book of Job. It was tremendously touching and the tears are coming to my eyes even now.
When we all stood to sing the Hallelujah chorus, I'd been thinking throughout that if I'd been a chorister this year, I might have been alternately relieved and a little disappointed at all the stuff I didn't get to sing because it was given to the master singers, when just as in response to that thought, we got to the end and the chorus continued without us through the full "Amen!" - I don't think any of the performances I've been in have used that part, and it was almost redemptive for the choristers - like, oh yeah, we didn't sing the hard stuff? well listen to this!
(edited to add): I forgot to say that this director (Andrew Sweeney, who is also an organist, operatic vocalist, composer, etc. - what a tremendous talent) rewrote the "Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion" for three sopranos instead of as a solo, and it was so refreshing to hear something familiar yet very new as the voices tumbled over each other, as though a group of sisters had heard the most wonderful news and all reacted at once.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
I wasn't sure how to keep them apart all weekend and achieve the goal of a nice weekend for her and for all, so very regretfully high-tailed her back to the clinic before they closed at 7, thinking to pick up some other lucky customer. Michele met me there with a Shih Tzu that's just come into rescue. At Animal Care & Control, it appeared to be one of those cases of an 8, 10, or 12-year-old dog that's never had any care - a horrid huge mass of tangles and mats, pinching the skin out in obvious tents - just awful. She'd taken shears and quickly cut off about a wastebasket full of hair. Enough to make an amazing discovery - this was a puppy barely six months old. I don't know how it even had time to have become such a rotten mess of tangles, or why in the world the clinic didn't shave him while he was knocked out for his neuter - that would have been the humane way to approach it. But there wasn't any Thanksgiving prep work at home that night (we were going out with friends for the holiday dinner, then making all our own turkey and trimmings on Friday), so I entrenched us both for four painstaking hours of clipping and scissoring and being bitten a dozen or so times, taking breaks and going at it again. He was incredibly tolerant, all things considered. This is what lay beneath. We named him Giblet.
And that was before I spent another two hours on him the next morning. He looks like an actual puppy now.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
In desperation around 4:30 am it occurs to me that this is not a cramp. This has got to be a sprain. Nothing else hurts this much. Which means all these hours of heat were A Bad Idea. It also finally occurs to me that there are excellent prescription drugs in the house courtesy of a friend who passed off a bottle of pain meds to me once they were no longer needed. (This is the Peg version of a health insurance plan.) But since I need to get up around 6:30, I know a pain pill is a bad idea. So I go find them, cut one in half and then start icing my neck instead to bring down the inflammation, and I did get an hour and a half of something more resembling sleep.
Up and at 'em all day but feeling quite out of it. Kari (my secondary insurer) gave me one of her migraine pills because they don't make you sleepy, and that got me through the work day until around 3pm when I conceded defeat and headed on home. Do piano movers frequently sprain their necks? I sprained mine once years before, in the shower rinsing my hair, and ended up in the emergency room. Weird.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
As in THIS morning. One of the few real godsends during the week that Kari was away and Peg was holding the world on her shoulders was that it didn't snow any more after that last weekend in October. If I'd had to shovel at both houses on top of everything else, I might have just sought a sturdy ice floe and made my graceful exit. But it was single-digit cold and it's been that way every day since - 17 straight days, which is wearing. And now the wind has kicked up over the last two days. Often that means somewhat warmer temps for us but this is a straight north wind and it's just cold. Damn cold. Hunter goes out in the snow to potty and doesn't last more than 90 seconds before he's picking up his feet from the painful cold. I bundle up for scoop duty and the one bright thing about it is that freeze-desiccated poop is so easy to manage. Up on the mountain I could take a golf club and tee them off, well clear into the high woods.
But the car starts right up with its engine heater, and this past weekend I got the studded snow tires on too. And this morning I finally reached up to the top shelf for the oatmeal, the Official Breakfast of Those Who Admit It Is Winter, so I'm fairly started up too. Nothing for it now but to get out there and get swept away.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
After a couple of other errands, we were headed to stick Raina, when Pat called from Arizona to say that Ra had been quite ill for a few days prior, and was hospitalized. After my mom's own doctor appointment that afternoon, I headed over to the clinic where the kind staff accommodated me in visiting our sweet old girl. I just felt pretty helpless, as I always do when a very old animal seems to be drifting beyond reach. I held her and talked to her quietly; she didn't respond much other than a little bit of a motor rumble. I couldn't see anything in her eyes. Her physicality had become somehow transparent, though clearly not in any distress or discomfort. But, oh, what a time for Pat to be thousands of miles away. Both of being women 'of an age,' practical and accepting of the way of all living things, we agreed that only because it's Raina would it come as a surprise that a cat of 21 years would decline. She's been in the world forever. As I went home solemn and worried, later that night I held a squirmy, silly puppy and was so struck by that sense of immersion in the full river of life. I thought by the next day, Raina would likely be released.
But 24 hours later I was holding a remarkably different cat - aggressive treatment had brought her infection around, though she still had lots to overcome. By Saturday she was home and by early Monday morning Pat was home too. I'm looking forward to a visit with them this weekend, but meanwhile, I am just so grateful that this one small precious thing hasn't slipped our grasp just yet.
Okay, I'm still waiting.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
You Must Accept
by Kate Light
You must accept that's who he really is.
You must accept you cannot be his
unless he is yours. No compromise.
He is a canvas on which paint never dries;
a clay that never sets, steel that bends
in a breeze, a melody that when it ends
no one can whistle. He is not who
you thought. He's not. He is a shoe
that walks away: "I will not go where you
want to go." "Why, then, are you a shoe?"
"I'm not. I have the sole of a lover
but don't know what love is." "Discover
it, then." "Will I have to go where you go?"
"Sometimes." "Be patient with you?" "Yes."
You have to hear what he is telling you
and see what he is; how it is killing you.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
While I've said for years that I'd never want to have a Bulldog because of the various problems they suffer from human interference in their DNA, I must say that I've become the bulldog lady at Dog Tired - we have half a dozen or so, each very different from each other, and I'm besotted with all of them for various reasons.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
When I had gotten home from my meeting tonight, she showed me the progress and when she mentioned cutting the hair around his other eye, I looked up seriously and said simultaneously with her, "Well, yeah, because he'll need that" and then we both cracked up laughing.
So I was especially touched this morning when we got up early for him to head outside to pee on the snow, and he jumped into my bed when we get back, scooted over politely as I got in, and then not only stayed with me cuddling, but stayed under the covers too, for a good hour and a half. And was the most precious sleepytime boy this morning, for a quiet talk and little loves between us until I got up to go to work.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Tonight that changed. Although his second round of Frankenfeet went away finally, I feel we haven't gotten to the bottom of whatever it is that's itching him so much. His skin's been dry and the hair around his armpits and his eyes is thinning. No other allergic symptoms though. Anyway, he's looked flaky and scruffy so I figured let's give the boy a soothing bath and see if that helps, and we'll go back to The Holy Man soon for more workups.
Hunter was bewildered. Now some of you remember, this is a dog who early on in our life together up in the Lazy Mountain cabin, walked into my shower and couldn't find his way out. On more than one occasion. Tonight he reluctantly got in the bathtub, but somewhat like my dear old Diva, he didn't fight but he needed to be comforted. (Diva would be wonderful for bathing as long as you kept your arms wrapped around her in a total hug the whole time and bathed with her.) And I realized how long it's been since I bent over to wash a dog in a bathtub. That won't ever happen again either. My low back hurt so much in the first 20 seconds I didn't think I'd have the courage to continue.
After bathing, I combed out tons of undercoat, predictably shed by all good Alaskan dogs at just the point when the weather suggests they really need it. He looks quite a bit thinner all over but is curled up in a sweet fluffy ball on my bed, smelling lightly of oatmeal and tea tree. I haven't seen him scratch once since the bath, so if nothing else he's gotten a few hours of relief tonight.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
On the west side of town we got a minor skiff - less than 1/2 inch - but it was cool enough today (20's) to stick. Supposed to get an inch overnight, maybe a couple more inches tomorrow. I had just put an engine block heater on the Tercel last year a couple weeks before it got totaled. Today I took the Civic in for the city-sponsored block heater program - $25 fee to the mechanic but the block heater is free. Anchorage has problems with emissions levels in the winter, with inversion layers that keep vehicle exhaust close to the ground. Cold-starting vehicles is a large contributor to that problem, plus a car just starts up much more willingly in subzero temps when it's spent a few hours plugged in. Still have to put glacier grips on it. I hate that this car is an automatic - so much easier to keep control on icy roads with a stick shift. All in all I'm not so sure I'm against global warming.
Monday, October 23, 2006
However, that clean Pacific Northwest air must contribute to mutant children - at 9 lb 13 oz and 23 inches, William was even bigger than chunky Zack.
It feels odd to me to know that to these boys I'll be one of those distant sort-of-relatives, as in "she was my grandfather's sister." Something dusty and vague, as though this morning my eyes are not welling with immediate joy.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Charles E. Hummell
Thursday, October 12, 2006
I never noticed that the coast was not clear.
As I was juggling my purse and keys in the dark, a rustle caught our attention and I turned to see a full-antlered young bull moose in the dark, at the edge of my front yard. It started to walk directly toward us on the porch. I dropped everything in my hands and tried to move quickly with my keys, but my knees were jelly and my hands shaking. I got the first lock open as the moose began to trot with 10 yards to go. Hunter stiffened and I yelled NO and tried to hold his collar (why? so we could both get stomped?), but he shot off the porch and down the street after the (surprisingly, fleeing) moose.
I jumped in the car and tore off down the street. Nothing in view in any direction. I rocketed up and down the side streets and saw nothing. Called Kari who lives very nearby, and she said she would get in her car right away and start working from her direction.
But honestly I thought that was hopeless. I wouldn't find him tonight in the dark, or maybe ever when he's frequently shy of strangers. He never turns around when he starts to run. And I learned the night that I almost got killed that he can't be easily called off.
I drove back to my house where my mom was standing in the doorway. I stopped the car engine and called up to her that if Hunter came home - which he wouldn't, but... - for her to call me. We spoke for a few minutes and then she said:
'There he is."
And he walked up the driveway, paused as I got out of the car and took him by the collar, and we walked in the house together.
Friday, October 06, 2006
But of course that's a judgment call and one I'm not qualified to make. So I guess I should quit pouting and figure out how the hell to start making an impact someplace that it matters.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
- Best of luck to ten talented fingers and a caustic wit.
- Wanna throw the frisbee?
- I hope you can put your intelligence to something great in later life. (God, I hope so too!)
- Thanks for all the encouragement and wisdom you tried to bestow upon my feeble whatever.
- Thanks to you I really don't care what people say about my driving.
- Remember all of the fun we had in health class writing about Mr. Lenzi on the blackboard in shorthand.
- It's too bad you're not in any of my classes this year. Remember geometry class the first marking period when you sat beside me and we talked all the time. That was the best part of geometry.
- Remember the Business Club banquet and that lady who took my apple butter.
- I honestly don't think you'll be a Problem Of Democracy.
- It's a pleasure having you in class and if you live long enough maybe you can get off the mountain...after all the way your mother drives...
- I'll always remember you...on crutches...in a brace...taped-up....etc.
- You have made me a thinker, and a better human being. (okay so I had to throw in something sincere)
- I can't quite put my finger on what I did wrong in basketball this year.
Also from my yearbook comments it appears that I played a LOT of Truth or Dare, as there are numerous threats of retaliation for things about which I have no memory at all. No wonder I never had the nerve to attend a class reunion.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Hunter is doubly thrilled because Auntie Kari was over earlier and cuddled him for almost two hours, and now Nana has cuddled him for nearly that long. Now that Hunter is not coming to work with me (because of the young puppy - who is now named Madison, by the way) he's been spending long days alone. Now they both have some company.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Then the moment of truth. I always arise gingerly on Saturday mornings because generally I hurt like hell after 12-13 hours of dog wrangling the day before, having stiffened up overnight and also given the day's accumulated bruising time to achieve its bold and bright potential. This morning I got up and even walked down the stairs with nary a pain anywhere. So that's either the right cooldown routine, or maybe it's just that I have had margaritas three nights this week so am finally reaching tequilibrium?
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Oh, and yes, I did ask for photographic evidence of this alleged baby, and Matthew gave me the hospital pic - apparently mom Kaci has been too occupied to email pictures? What's up with that?
And speaking of air travel, I am now officially a big fan of wheelchair escort. It has relieved my mind so much both in sending Mom back from Anchorage to Harrisburg in January, and now on these two return trips west, to know that she is getting gate-to-gate service. Given enough time, I have no doubt that she could do it on her own, but I am just glad to know that it's up to the airlines to make her gate connections for her instead.
Paul Giamatti's considerable chops are not used to any new capacity in his role as a police inspector aspiring to be Vienna's mayor under the new regime, but we get his trademark eyebrow-twisting concentration and his wide laugh when all is eventually illuminated. And I have to admit that when put together with real actors, even Biel delivered a passable performance that some other young scrawny ingenue would not have carried as believably as her healthy, real-woman quality. The movie is photographed beautifully with a palette of color and light that maintains that sense of distance and time suspended. I was so charmed by the story that it had to lead me into the reveal... and then I was doubly charmed for realizing the spell I'd been placed under.
We were in the theatre with a bunch of (drunk?) louts who apparently thought it was a comedy and guffawed throughout, so I'll be going back to get the lines I missed to audience misbehavior. But ultimately it's one for the DVD shelf, because I'll need private time and a pause button............
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
The dog with me is Foxy, who should have a staff photo of her own. She's a husky/elkhound mix - the latter being rather ironic, since it was in fact a moose who relieved her of the sight in her left eye. She is one of the best canine communicators that I have ever seen. She has a wonderful sense of equanimity about her and has the respect of every other dog in the place without having had to muscle about it. If a puppy gets over-exuberant, she explains things with only the amount of emphasis needed to make her point. If there's something the staff needs to know, she has a wonderful wooooooo with nuance and diction. She's truly a teacher and a role model to the other dogs, patient and affable but with clear security and strength. I would be well served if I had half of her qualities of self-possession and elegant interaction with my own species.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
I couldn't sleep last night and was reading some back emails from the online magazine Slate, and one of the international features I was reading led me to think about the case of Nick Berg, an American who was abducted and later murdered by beheading in Iraq two years ago. And somewhere in there, too, was some contemplation of the events of 9/11 as that anniversary approaches, with the sense of the great momentum of fury that is growing toward our country and the certainty that more attacks are coming.
Well, I don't recommend any of this as a cure for insomnia, but I thought quietly about these things. And then I watched the Internet videotape of Nick Berg's decapitation.
I was not compelled to do this by morbid fascination. I thought I knew what the images would portray, and I was correct. But there was in me a sense of deep gravity and responsibility, that as an inhabitant of this planet being torn apart by rage, that I needed not to turn away from the reality of the clash as it urgently and hopelessly changed the story of one human life.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Peg, who always knew she was
a great aunt but now it's official
Monday, August 28, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
About 5:15 this morning we had a very strongly felt earthquake - one of the largest I've personally felt in terms of it being close and very shallow. It wasn't like the deep world far below was moving, more like someone had set a giant eggbeater loose.
I was so bone-exhausted from staying up half the night working every night this week that my reaction was less than textbook. I was lying on my stomach and felt the bedsprings sproinging as though someone were standing against the bed shaking it sideways. A moment later it occurred to me that I sleep on an oak platform bed, so I tried to revise my understanding of what was going on. Hunter had exited the bedroom like cannon shot, but as the jostling went on and I heard something shift or fall (not heavily) in the next room, I really really tried to make myself care but I wanted soooooo much to go back to sleep. I just rode it out to see what would happen but I didn't even change position or lift my head (the pillow felt soooo good). I learned later that it was a 5.1 quake (yow!) centered five miles east of us (yow again!). I promise next time I will try harder to keep my eyes open.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
My finesse is a little frayed at the moment. But I hope to get back to the blog before long, as I have little moments to share including wonderful summer flower gardens, a visit from a mama moose and her two babies, Nathaniel's latest news, my kitty friend Raina's 21st birthday and of course the latest exploits of Hunter the Faboo. But right now I just have to tighten my helmet.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Hanging baskets are a popular tradition up here in the summers, and I'm a fan of stuff that keeps easy, so rather than do nothing, I decided to go with the never-fail petunias. My three favorites this year are my old standby Supertunias for the front porch basket, a perennial called self-heal (that's the tall stuff in the bed - it went wild with deep colored spiky blossoms) and my new discovery is Wave petunias, which spread like crazy as a ground cover through the beds and bloomed fearlessly despite some rather, um, inconsistent husbandry from me. (In my defense, inconsistent husbandry is the only sort with which I have been acquainted...)
This group (below) started from a hopeful little plant with just two blooms and spread this far in about four weeks. I like alyssum for ground cover but it takes forever to go anywhere, and this was lickety-split. And as I backpost this on Aug 28, it's still blooming like crazy.
Starr (now named Rio Catalina) has found a lovely home with Betsy and her young labradoodle Blossom. I am very very happy for a wonderful placement, but we'll sure miss her a lot here. Unlike Hunter, she was very happy to clamber up on the couch and plop full length on top of me for a naptime cuddle. (She can also sleep with her eyes open; I don't know whether that's related to her blindness, but it's a little disconcerting somehow.)
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Fast forward two days (to yesterday) and our visit to The Holy Man, who believes that Hunter had an abscess. In the meanwhile he'd been licking that foot a lot so it's a mess, and now we are living in Conehead land and having lots of topical meds. Ron is speculating that it's a contact reaction, maybe to grass? which hasn't ever happened before and I would hate to think would be starting now. While we were there, he looked at all of Hunter's feet, and sure enough one of his front feet had the tiniest little bump on one of the pads, maybe the size of a pencil eraser.
By this morning the pencil eraser was the size and heft of a fat grape and had a twin appearing on the next toe. Poor Hunter. He's clearly miserable and his feet are turning into fat Frankenpaws as his toes succumb to this one by one. Starr is back with us for four days and hasn't been affected by whatever this is.
Friday, July 14, 2006
I was honored to receive an invitation to Raina's 21st birthday party today, at her veterinary clinic. Although I'd stack Gryphon's medical file against anyone's as Best Substitute for a Child Booster Seat, Raina's particular claim to fame (among many) is that her medical file outweighs her (she was up to 4 lb 4 oz today though - good girl!). I am very blessed to have Pat and Raina (and rottiegrrl Skye) as friends.
From ancient Raina I have learned that there is wisdom and depth in quiet reflection, but also that complaining very loudly until you get what you want is a perfectly reasonable fallback position.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Devotees of all things Powdermilk are of course required to see this movie or suffer a heap of Lutheran guilt and more. I went at the midnight hour with a small band of National Public Radio types, and it felt immediately comfortable in precisely the same way as it did when I walked into the auditorium for PHC's 10th anniversary broadcast performed live right here in Anchorage mmfty-mmf years ago.
The thing is, I have no idea why people think Robert Altman is a genius. For my money the only Altmanesque thing worth watching in this movie was a patois delivered by Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin as sisters reminiscing on their family's early roots as gospel performers. Beyond that, one could argue that the characteristic Altman approach is already covered in the screenplay by Garrison Keillor, framed as just a larger version of his trademark yarns, with the slow and uninteresting spots and the parts that pierce the heart so unexpectedly, strung together with the knowledge that the fun is always in hearing how GK might find his way out of the mess he's talked himself into and weave an ending to the tale.
It's those small nuggets of gold that were so worth it. Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly (as the cowboys Dusty and Lefty) with "The Bad Joke Song" - Lindsay Lohan in an extemp delivery of "Frankie and Johnny" filling in the memory gaps with her own teen-suicide-poem words, tentatively at first, then selling it full out - an unexpected death backstage and the aching of a lover's heart in the chest of a 70-year-old woman. Kevin Kline brings actual depth to Guy Noir, a character I tired of as soon as I heard it on the radio show, and finally can say I enjoyed, once.
A month or so ago, Meryl Streep reprised one of the songs, "Goodbye to My Uncles," on the PHC radio broadcast. You can listen to it here. I have a VocalEssence recording of this song that I just love. It's not a great song, it's just an honest song, and I always weep with the very first words. I liked that I could sit there in the theatre with the tears streaming down my face and hear the sniffles of others around me. And I liked that as the players gather on stage for a rousing finale of "In the Sweet By and By," a small group of voices raised around me in the little cineplex just as it would have in the Fitzgerald on a Saturday night.
Goodbye to my mama, my uncles and aunts,
One after another they went to lie down
In the green pastures, beside the still waters,
And made no sound.
Their arms that have held me for so many years,
Their beautiful voices no longer I hear;
They're in Jesus' arms and He's talking to them
In the rapturous New Jerusalem.
And I know they're at peace in a land of delight
But I miss my mama tonight.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Once I have located my nicest, fattest, most yielding vein, I may come back and tell the rest of the story. The really sad part is that in my life, this week doesn't even get an honorable mention for drama and trauma.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
We shook hands and made up. I love her giant feet!
I learned today that the eye surgeon said that Starr's visual range is not nearly the 3 feet or so that her previous owners had thought. That's consistent with what I've seen, which looks to be about 12-15 inches of 'whatever' she has. She stumbles but she learns where things are quickly. She is not as acute at locating by sound as I had thought she might be.
We had a very warm day - into the 80's in places - and she enjoyed some time on the back deck. However, she tried to get Hunter to play by using obnoxious tactics - poking and being very pushy - and finally he let her have it and literally tried to bite her head off. She immediately cried and went and hid behind a deck chair and whimpered. She wouldn't come out for the longest time and finally I dragged her out. Her little feelings were so hurt. But on the whole she is a mellow and happy girl. She stays nearby and I like it when she gets up close - she gives tender little chin nibbles, and it seems that she is really trying to see you with those empty eyes. You can't really see her soul through them, but that is coming out in other ways.