Memory like an 85yr old

Why, at 27 do I have the memory of a senior? I forget everything!
How often have you left your purse or wallet in restaurant? I used to do it ALL the time. If my friends didn't constantly remind me, I still would!
Have you ever left an expensive piece of sports equipment, that you were just using, leaning against a building, as you head for home? I have, a snowboard in fact, propped against the chalet, while I get all undressed and hop in the car! Why, why, why?
I am late, always. At least I am consistent right? But, why am I late? Because cell phones, keys and such, don't answer when you call their name. In fact, I suspect that they hide! I will find them, sometimes together, usually not, on some random surface in the house. On top of the dryer, on the dresser in the spare room, beside the bathroom sink, in the tack room outside, on the deck railing. Why? I don't know!
If it included an area code it usually takes three tries for me to dial a phone number that someone was saying to me, because I always forget. There would be no point in announcing my licence plate number if my headlights were on. I don't remember what my plate number is, not even a clue!
Some would assume I am just a flake, that nothing matters enough to me. Entirely untrue. I am a very devoted friend, and I hate it when I forget simple stuff. Have I tried to improve it? Of course I have, with minimal results. Whats stupid though, it that I remember stupid things! I remember the color of peoples eyes, and their shoes, my first memory is from before I was even three. I'll remember that so-and-so hates dogs, long after they don't hate dogs anymore, but I won't remember that they changed their mind! I can't remember anyone's phone numbers, thank goodness for in- phone contact lists, but I still remember the first phone number we had when I was little.

Cooking outside the Box

Shortly after discovering that I had a gluten allergy, I was at home, wondering what on earth I was going to eat. There is of food in the house. Pasta, bread, crackers, some veggies, soup, but I desperatly need to do some shopping. The problem being, most stuff is made with, or thickened with wheat flour. So I look carefully, an egg, rice crackers, but nothing else to put on them, and it hardly qualifies as a meal. All the soups are noodle somethings, or creamed. Since I'm newly allergic, I have nothing as far as gluten free breads, flours or the like in my pantry. Ugh, think outside the box. I have salad, AGAIN, so what can I put with the salad to add some variety. There are no chicken breasts hiding in the back of the freezer. Sigh. I went for a quick walk, because maybe the wild puff balls were ready. And sure enough, they are! Beautiful fat pearls in the grass! I walk, poking them as I go, spongy ones got to stay and spore out. But the ones that were firm, and broke the ground with a solid snap, those are my delicious little nuggets of happiness. When I get back inside with a good helping of mushrooms, I have to decide just what to do with them. Egg, rice crackers, oil, sea salt, mmmm. The rice crackers are crushed, and the sliced mushrooms coated with egg and the cracker crumbs. Once the oil is hot, I fry the little discs in olive oil until they are golden and crispy. With a dash of pepper and sea salt, they grace the plate next to my salad of field greens. Fantastic!

Paintballs are Not Good Dog Food

The other day, I am sitting on my couch, reading a book, when my husband walks in. We are chatting about something or other when he starts peering oddly at something over my shoulder. I turn around slowely to see orange spatter across my wall. Odd, to say the least. We investigate further, and find a handful of orange paintballs that have fallen behind our antique trunk/corner coffee table. Right about then I notice both of our, normally energetic and cuddly, dogs slinking off down the hallway. Now, our dogs have a minor obssesion with balls, so a ball, thats squishy, AND squirts if you bite it, I understand the draw. Today, when I got home, my dogs were peeking out of the curtains, very happy to see me, waging their little tails. That would be cute, except that my dogs are not supposed to be peeking out of the living room window. They are supposed to be secure in the kitchen, behind a baby gate. (yes, they are that small, yes, they still qualify as dogs) Add to my dismay, I already knew that there was going to be a mess to clean up, since, well... paintballs are not quality dog food. (no, I do not have a paintball gun, so then why do I have paintballs? I do not know!) When I got in the house, a mess is an understatement. There are many puddles, ranging in orange shades from apricot to tangarine across my kitchen, and one particularily large one that started on the couch, and ended on the area rug, at least it was a pale shade. I tip toe through the kitchen assessing the damage, and getting the mop bucket, only to discover that using the back of my couch and a viewing window between the kitchen and living room, they have been on my counter. And accompanying the orange rainbow on the floor, is a broken glass, that had been full of water. Now, now I can't mop the floor because of the glass, I can't vaccum the glass because of the puddles, I can't even pick up all the glass, and manage to avoid all the puddles. The dogs, mean time, smartly dissappeared into the deep grasses of the back yard within moments of my opening the door. To my amazement, the orange did not stain the floor, or the leather of the couch, and much to my relief, it seems that they at least got it all over with in one foul shot. But had you come to visit me that day... I would have happily given you two very cute Daschunds, at no charge what so ever. Who knew that paintballs taste good enough to eat, they smell awful, but that may have been the combination of... contents that I was smelling. I doubt I will ever go paintballing again.

Multitasking in the bathtub

How many people multitask in the bath? And I don't mean shaving while leaving our conditioner in for two minutes. Lots of people read, there are even handy little book rack that you can hook on the edges of the tub, so that you don't get the pages wet. And lots have the music on. Some of us talk on the phone, just don't drop it, trust me.
How about watch TV? Why not? I know a lady that tilted the TV in her bedroom, so that she can watch TV in bed, and when the en suite door is open, watch from the tub! Genius right, glass of wine, good movie and a warm bath!
I have tape over my web cam, because I go online when I'm lounging in the bath. Do I need to have tape over the web cam? I don't really know, but I feel better that way. Plus, I can blog, update Facebook, check out movie reviews, write an e-mail to grandma, and research which jewelry kiln I want to buy, all from the comfort of a pleasant smelling, bubbly bath!
Some people sleep in the bath. Two problems though... you go to sleep warm, wake up in cold bath water. Yuck! Also, it is very disturbing to know that someone is in the bath, but they won't answer you when you ask them how long they will be. Even more disturbing, when you stick your head in the door, and they still don't answer you. Then you look and realize, that it looks like they are fully submerged! So you rush in, panicking and pull their head out of the water, only for them to gasp fearfully, as they are wrenched from peaceful slumber, to look into someone's terrified face, then you quickly realizes that they are OK. And naked. And you are there, soaking wet, having burst in upon them, naked, in the bathtub. Awkward, very awkward I tell you.
I do not sleep in the bathtub.
What else could one accomplish while in the bath? Paint, draw? I don't think that would go very well. I'm imagining water warped pages and possible tinted bath water? Anything to do with photographs would be a bad idea, they don't generally get along with water. Have you ever tried writing? Wouldn't the angles be all wrong? I don't think it would be comfortable. Food prep? Bahahaha! Just joking!

We are All Pyromaniacs at Heart

Why is it that we are mesmerized by the flicker of flame? The current answer would be something about evolution, bah! Lets just dismiss that, because after however million years it is supposed to have been since we evolved, I am sure we would have lost our 'instictual response' to flame as a life giver. After all, if your mind follows that avenue, we lost the 'instinctual response' to flame as a danger, unlike most animals existing now, who flee from fire.
Sure, fire terrifies us a little, our heart gets going when a bit of flame gets away on us. But at the same time, we are entirely taken with the fluid movement. We can contain fire, to an extent in specific pits, boxes, etc, but the fact is that we cannot catch and entirely tame it. Kind of like a rainbow! Who isn't absolutly moved to see a brilliant, full bow, of glowing color. Maybe thats the key, that we have no way of traping it, saving it. There are thousands of photos taken of fire, and rainbows, ooo oo! and northern lights, none of which do justice. But we continue to try, and we are amazed everytime. Is the illusiveness the pull?
Fire though, fire seems more so. We sit infront of, even a little gas fire place, or a space filled with candles, and our eyes are drawn to the dance of the flames, night after night. Every fire is different, yes, but not so different that we can find something new to admire everytime.
Is it because we know that when unleashed, is distructive, and deadly? Is it a tiny thrill of having something so dangerous, as a veritable pet in our home, like a lion on a chain? Does it charge our ego?
Or are we pulled to the constant light and warmth. As long as we feed, protect, and nurture it, it will respond like a lover, and fill our lives with as much light and warmth that we can handle. We can come home to an empty house, no one waiting with the lights on, but when we light a fire, and bask in its glow, we feel... almost loved. Is that the draw? Substitute affection of sorts?
What, what is it that engages us so?

Mulled Whine

I worked with a group of women in a non-traditional environment once . I thought that other women who wanted to work there would be a lot like me, that it would be fun. What a joke! I have never seen so many back biting, sneaky, catty, self absorbed, competitive women in my life. I was shocked, it reminded me of high school. "Oh no, Susan sits here," I was told by Laura, though the lunch room was not assigned seating, and Susan didn't actually work there yet, but once she did... oh it was exciting! Lunch time was like being in the change room with cheerleaders. "Really? Oh my god, well," Laura pauses to smile scandalously at the married manager, then leans forward to whisper in Susan's ear. The juicy tidbit was rewarded with an awed gasp, "You know, everyone of those children has a different father, and she wonders where her daughter gets it from!" Susan reported to the entire table. And later, Susan clucks her tongue with disgust to hear that pretty young Tanya admitted to flashing her husband out the front window when he left for work. Laura then proceeds to tell us all about her daughter's job in electronics sales, informing us with a giggle that if she was having trouble making a sale, she just had to show a little more cleavage and viola! It really made me wonder, as I sat, day after day, trying not to choke on my cheese sandwich, where did it start. Did teenage girls mimic their mother's attitude in highschool to feel mature? Or did mother's start acting like their teenage daughters to feel young again?

Alternate Dimensions

There are all sorts of movies, books, and theories regarding alternate dimensions. Sometimes they are scary stories about creepy things that slip through an entryway to another reality. Or intriguing ideas of a parallel universe that branches with every different decisions we make.

This other place is supposed to develop and run along side of our own. Is that possible? Does it exist?

Could the very beings of this world move among us unseen? Are they unaware of us? Do they speculate about our lives, the things that we do? Or, do they move around us, well aware of our behaviour, observing our antics?

Evolutionist would dispute whether that was a scientific possiblity. People with religious beliefs would probably say no, that such a place was not created.

I cannot address the ideas of an evolutionist, which I am not, but, what about spirit creatures?

By definition, albeit loosly defined, if you believe in angels, or demons, do they not dwell in a parallel dimension? Not an alternate reality, as if another version of us. But it is a realm in which they live, that we cannot see, yet exists. Though we are mostly unaware of their presence, the persons in this realm can walk next to us, through us, around us. In which case, as the spirit world would have been here first, we are the alernate dimension.

*Insert twighlight zone music* DEEDLE deedle DEEDLE deedle

What do you think?

Graphology

Graphology is fasinating. Most are very sceptical. Scientific research has found no clear correlation between handwriting behavior and basic personality patterns, so scepticism is understandable. Though there hasn't been very much support or funding to conduct extensive research in the area.
Accuracy depends much on the ability of the person making the analysis, and the honesty of the person being analyzed. People don't like to admit to traits that they don't like about themselves, and so will insist that some things are incorrect.
However, any time that I have taken the time to do an in depth handwriting analysis, the subjects have been relatively impressed with the results. And I am not at all experienced at this.
It has stirred up questions though.
Is it related to hand reflexology? (Another area that invites much scepticism) As we shift the writing utensil in our hand, it could press on many different finger points, and palm points. Some such points may be tender, due to various health issues, chronic and otherwise. Chronic issues in particular are linked to our mental and emotional well being, which directly effects our behaviour and personality traits. (and also effect our physical traits, but that is a post for another time, if I remember some other time) So, could the things noticed in graphology indicate health concerns as well? Certain ways of writing indicate an emotional person, perhaps this is because the person has a hormonal imbalance, that creates a tender button that they avoid with the pen? Are some person more sexual or spiritual because they hold the pen in such a way that stimulates these areas? And it is said that we can work on areas of our personality that we are unhappy with by changing the writing habit that is indictive of this characteristic. Could this be that a) we are are directing the pressure differently against our palm and fingers, thus no longer contacting specific reflexology points, and/or b) everytime we conciously change how we write a letter we are thinking about the fact we wish to improve some certain area of our behaviour, thus prompting the change?
HmMmm, so many questions!

What is happening to communication

The other day I saw a lady walking her two daughters to school, one was young, and the other was a young teen. I smiled, it was nice to see, a great chance for Mom to talk and bond with her daughters, and good opportunity for them to voice any concerns. The young girl was between Mom and Big Sis, she looks up at one, then the other, then looks down at her feet, walking along. Then I realized, both Mom, and Sis, have their ear buds in.

Last week I had breakfast with my mom. I noticed the people around the restaurant enjoying their food, and their company, sort of. Cell phones ringing, buzzing, beeping. One table had two gentlemen, who were each on their cell phones through the arrival of a lady, and for a good ten minutes following. Then they all sat visiting and eating, but in a short bit, all three of them are trying to have productive conversations... over the phone.

I drive school bus now and again. Among all of the kids that are loud, laughing, goofing off, is a growing number of kids with their nose, not in a book, but in their PSP or some such device. "I'm in chat room two" they tell each other across the aisle. While the bus driver in me appreciates the ensuing silence, I am alarmed.

What are we coming to? What are we doing to ourselves, and our society?
Why is having a tune in our ear more important than being in tune with our children?
Why is the person who calls during breakfast more important then those who join us for breakfast?
Why are we more comfortable trying to voice our emotions into texts, than hearing emotion in our friend's voice?
How far will we degress? Will text hugs and kisses replace actually reaching out to someone? Will phone or cyber sex be as prevelant as actually touching someone, is it already? LOL instead of belly laughs, tears and kness slapping with real people? :D :) :P :O :( :'( because we don't know anyone well enough to tell them how we feel?

I Don't Brush my Hair

About 15 months ago, I broke my brush. It was a junk brush, and I knew I had a good brush at home. You know, one of those ouch-less ones with a contoured handle to fit your palm. Anyway, I didn't want to buy another when I knew I had this other one, and I am not super keen on using other people's brushes. Combs maybe, but brush, no. So after years of brushing my long strands into ruler-straight submission, I was without my weapon, the Dictator, I was helpless against the mischief my hair could accomplish.
In an attempt to keep it, managable, I finger combed through it and threw it in a loose braid before bed.
To my surprise, the three days before I could get home to the protection of my brush, my hair turned into this beautiful thing, full of character and body. I got more compliments the days I had no brush, than ever before. My hair had previously hung limp down my back, it was hair that had to be convinced, coerced, and glued in place to hold a curl. Now it possessed bounce and shape I had never imagined possible.
So, now, rather than trying to reconquer my tresses, I mostly let it be. Spot brushing it, you know, like spot washing a floor? If there is an extra tangled area, I brush it out, otherwise I finger out the little knots and such. Sometimes a full brushing cannot be avoided, any event involving a great deal of wind, like snowboarding, riding, convertables, boating, usually requires the wind knots to be carefully combed out. If I don't tie my hair before swimming, it will probably need to be brushed out. No brushing is not a hard and fast rule, rather more like a guideline. And the longer it has been free from the brushes dictation, the more frequently my hair needs to be reminded that it's freedom depends on appropriate behaviour. But thats ok, it beats having lifeless locks. And my hair still goes for months at a time without a complete brush out, and sometimes weeks without the need of a spot brush.
My mother calls my hair a 'mane', har-de-har. And my grandma after seeing my new, barely tamed, couffure, laughed when she learned my scheme. Some ask if it is sanitary, (While frequency of washing is an entirely different subject, I still wash my hair! Jeeze) others ask if it is healthy for my scalp. (I just pay more attention to my scalp when washing) And yes, I still have bad hair days, thats what hats and hairbands are for.
But if it's terribly important, those are the days I pull out the Dictator, to revel briefly in the memory if it's supremacy.

Simple Minds

Simple things entertain simple minds, or so it is said.
I don't think I agree. Well, I do agree that simply things do indeed entertain simple minds, what I disagree with is that this statement infers. That simple things entertain ONLY simple minds. I am not saying that I am particularly deep of thought, I just want to discuss the merit of allowing simple things to not just please, but entertain you.
We could easily discuss at length the definition of 'simple', before ever getting into this topic. But for the purpose of the point, lets say that 'simple' things, are things that would entertain a reasonably intelligent, observant 10yr old.
Finding a frog. Watching sheep in a field playing and leaping over one another. Falling stars. A cuddly pet. Figuring out some new little device. Shadow puppets. Tossing a stick for a dog. A day that the air sparkles with frost. These sound so silly in a way don't they? Lets consider.

Finding a frog. Frogs are cool. Even if you think they are yucky, you have to notice how neat they really are. Frogs have all different kinds of pupils, some round, some slits, heart shaped and triangles. Adult frogs absorb oxygen through their skin, along with water (they don't drink). And most frog can change their color to blend with surroundings, so it is super cool to actually find one! It encourages appreciation for nature, and to be more aware of your surroundings.

Watching sheep in a field playing and leaping over one another. Seeing such docile creatures, learning to play and relax despite that they are easy prey, and a coyote is probably eyeing them, smacking his lips... shouldn't we learn to be that way? Not afraid to play and have fun regardless of our problems.

Falling stars. Eventually someone tells us that it is not a falling star, but a meteor, so our knowledge is expanded, and the sight is no less unique. A brief, beautiful streak of light, that you must either have looked at the right time, or have waited patiently, is a gift. Rare enough that you can feel special for having seen it. A reward for those who wait.

A cuddly pet. "I'm so very happy to see you, I don't care if you think you are the worst person in the world, you are the best to me!" recepetion. Everyone needs to feel that unconditional love.

Figuring out a new device. Like a puzzle, this gives a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, albeit small. But you fell smart, and capable, oh, and up to date!

Shadow puppets. Enjoying a masterful shadow puppet shows appreciation for creativity. Being able to master said puppet shows personal creativity, as well as a willingness to please and entertain guests. It encourages much needed playfulness.

Tossing a stick for a dog. A repetitive, non-strenuous activity lowers blood pressure. And doig something so simple, that imparts such joy, for the critter teaches us how good it feels to make someone/thing else happy.

A day that sparkles with frost. Yes it's COLD, but the air around you is sparkling! The conditions have to be just so, that moisture is feezing so quick it glimmers around you. It is so achingly beautiful, so uncommon and so easily dismissed. Look on the bright side, silver lining, glass half full. There is always a positive, just look for it!

Is it still so silly?

Fairy Tales

When I was young, in my heart of hearts, I knew I wanted to grow up and be pretty, and find a nice guy and be married. My problem was, I didn't think I was ever going to be pretty, so I grew up far from your typical girl in most ways. I climbed trees and carried around a jack knife. My dad taught me how to shoot guns and swing an ax, catch, kill and gut fish. I swung hard and kicked harder. I must have figured that if I wasn't going to be pretty, my life was going to be harder, and so I better learn how to manage. Which I did.
But, I still wanted the fairy tale. I wanted the perfect first kiss, and the Disney-style first true love, and a happily ever after ending.
Being a rough and tumble girl, some these things happened a little bit late for me, since most boys probably figured they would probably get punched if they tried to kiss me. To be fair, most of them were right.
At any rate, life has taught me many thing regarding my fairy tale.
There is no such thing as a perfect first kiss. Yes, yes, it may make your heart flutter, but it is awkward, and messy. Then you have to figure out how you behave with each other afterward, ugh.
And please, correct me if I'm wrong, but Disney is a little unrealistic in the love department. After the initial knight in shining armor feeling, even if you are thoroughly swept off your feet, reality is... different. And while Princess may have loved being put on a pretty pedestal, it is way better to see eye to eye with someone.
As for the happily ever after? Well, thats a matter of opinion I suppose. At least, trials in real life don't usually involve battling a witches or overcoming evil spells. But most of us don't get to ride into the golden sunset on the back of a white steed. Fortunately I prefer palominos.
Life, is not a fairy tale. Fairy tales don't hurt, they don't disappoint, don't make you cry. But, the best parts about life, are way, way better then the best parts of a fairy tale.

Microwaves

What is it about trying to use someone elses microwave? I can drive a different car, assemble shelves out of a box, train a dog, figure out how to hook the game box, to the amplifyer, to the DVD, to the TV, I can change car batteries, and door knobs, and refinish a dresser.
But a microwave? Unless it's exactly like our microwave, which it never is, it's like a mystical box, trained only to function at the touch of it's master.
If I can even manage to get it open, what?! Sometimes the handle is hidden, or there is no handle but some fancy ass button to push! Once I have entrusted my beloved dish into the gapping mouth of this bias device, I poke tentatively at a few buttons, it beeps in response. I raise an eyebrow, and push cancel... again. Power level, quick defrost, (why wouldn't there only be quick defrost, forgo the alternative 'slow defrost') time cook, then there are pictures, of what? Is that a potatoe? Popcorn and pizza even!? Wait, two pictures, with dots beside it!
Beyond comprehension, hardly worth trying to figure out. Instead, I look sheepishly over at the smirking householder, pleading with my eyes that they rescue my cold meal. They input the magic combination, and the microwave whirs away obediently.
BUT, THEY ARE NOT SUPRISED! Not because I can't figure it out, but because microwaves in another house are nearly impossible for most of us!

What's your gripe?

There are a huge variety of grapes that become wine. The grape is the source, the beginning, the essence of each wine.
Some lighter, darker, fruitier, delicate, spicy, sour, wild.
Then there are varietals, that is, the product of more than one.What makes the difference between a reserve, a bottle of plonk and vinegar?
The secret is in the ingredients, and the process.And not to be forgotten, supply and demand. Quality in short supply is more valued than quality in abundance, and far more valuable then quantity over quality.

Huh, interesting.

There are a huge variety of gripes that become whine. The source, the beginning, the essence of the whine. Some lighter, darker....

The Mysteries of Trees

Why do some trees come into leaf faster then the trees beside them? In a whole row of trees, why does it get to be the first to put on it's lush summer robes? Does it happen to sit on a patch of particularly rich and/or moist soil? Do the air currents flow a certain way, that bring warmth to this tree and not the others? Now, does this special tree also lose it's leaves faster come fall, is that the price of it's early flamboyance?

That brings us to fall colors! Why do some trees turn before the trees beside them? One tree stands naked first, is it drier, colder, malnourished? Why does one tree of the same species blush red, while another yellows, or turns orange at the cooling assaults? And yet some, some stay green untill the leaves drop, crisp, from the branches?

How is it that some years, the fall season is full of fuchsia to rich crimson, the next an array of yellows ranging from soft to burnt shades? What happened one year to the next, worse thunderstorms, extra caterpillars, or fewer worms? Was the first frost too early, or maybe too late? Was there more pollution, less rain or higher temperatures? Had the spring been overly cold, or wet, had the snow stayed to long?

What secrets do you keep, hidden in your wardrobe, you people of the forest

What's in a name?

We all have our OCD tendencies, who knows how they start, but they become a part of us. I will not buy a broken chocolate bar. And...

There is an entire set of rules to name an animal at my house. I don't know if I would be the same about naming a child. I know that any child of mine would have four names, a hand-me-down name, a name all of their own and a very old name, then the family name. And the acronym must not spell anything suggestive, or rude. Thats just asking for them to get teased. So, maybe I would be just as bad about a kids name.

Anyway, our first pet was a our cat. She has lovely blue eyes, mostly white, with patches of brown and tan, a very long dark tail and dark ears. I named her Cappuccino. A vague reference to her coloring, and an original name. And yes, I did name all our animals, my husband didn't really care, and he didn't want to be caught up in my crazy naming methods. After that we were given a grey striped, blue eyed cat. He was already named Ditty, because their daughter had found him and she couldn't say 'kitty' properly. That worked, it was cute, had a story, it started with a different letter then the first, and had different sounds all through it. Sometime or other, I was given my first horse, he was already named Boogie. That would not do, I don't do mucus of any way shape or form. But I couldn't re-name a gift, so it was just Boo. And it matched well, he was a silly, spooky horse, and again, the first letter and the sounds were different. Then I bought a tiny little puppy, she was so cute! Thing is, I didn't ask to buy her, I just bought her, and my husband? Welll he was less then pleased with me, but I picked a name to suck up... Cadillac! It did suit her, a long shiny, black dachshund. And, in the long run, my hubby was pretty easy to win over. In the spring our dog Shadow (didn't name her) had puppy's and my husband claimed the only brown one in the litter, she became Rootbeer. But now all of the pets I had named had double letters, and there were two 'C's and two drink references *tsk tsk* At least they were all names I had never heard before. I bought a horse, Tia, I only had her for a little while, already named, and a name that worked. And an old girl, so I wouldn't change it on her. But, when I bought my next horse, I thought very carefully. He was already named too, but he was too flashy for the simple name he had been given. A beautiful sorrel (red) with bright white blaze, socks, and belly, full dark red mane and tail. He carried his head high, his tale flagged, stepped like he was dancing all the time. I had some ideas, but nothing would stick, then I drove by a sign for one of my favorite places...Jasper! It was perfect, a semi-precious, red stone, with strengthening properties. It started and ended with new letters! I was dissapointed later to here someone had named their dog, Jasper, another named their kid Jasper. By then it was too late though. Over the next couple year we had a few animals; a sorrel paint named I named Tagger, then renamed Tango to get rid of the 'R' ending and another double letter. A fancy white kitten with an attitude, Cleopatra(damned C's I started paying closer attention to the first letter after that.)A pretty piebald(B&W) mare with blue eyes that I named Monday because thats when she arrived at my house, and a nod to her eyes and prettiness(Blue Monday, Monday's Child) Then I got a black puppy, with speckled feet, I called her Peppermint. There is big palomino paint I bought with a name I didn't like. He is a big boy, thick and beautiful, after much consideration I tagged him Felix, it means warrior, and I had decided I liked a shortish name for my horses. A black curly haired puppy who is called Rizz, sometimes Rizzy, Rizzo, Rizado, named so because rizado is curly in spanish. I know, another double, but the name also needs to be original and relate to the animal in some way! Another dachshund was given to us, already named Happy, I really, really tried to find something that suited her better then that, but to no avail. She is a very happy little dog, and my husband said he liked it the way it was. (grrr, more doubles!) Diva was an old mare that was given to me, named for her attitude, another "D" but it was short, had a 'V' which was new, besides she was old enough that I wouldn't change it. When I bought a colt named "Mark" that was just too boring, and he became Eliot instead, because it was a cute name and followed all of the letter rules. I bought a horse named Horse, that wasn't gonna last. He's B&W, like a cow, so going through dairy cow names I hit salers, brown cows, but oh well, with an adjustment he is Sailor. It's a stretch I know, but it works. Hey, now three of the horses have an 'L' in the middle, how did I not notice that?

Keep in mind that I didn't have all these animals at the same time, I only ever had five horses once, and two were being sold. I never had more then three dogs at once, or three cats at once. The animal numbers peaked at five horses, three dogs and two cats.


Currently my husband and I own cats: Cappuccino and Ditty, dogs: Cadillac, Rizz and Happy, horses: Felix, Diva, and Sailor. I love all of the names individually, but as a group, the rules are not followed all the way. There are too many double letters now, and too many 'L's, two 'D's, two 'Y' endings and two 'S' sounding endings.

Now, my mom has given me her kitten, an adorable chocolate brown tuxedo, with white framing his nose. (doing his best to interupt my typing as we speak) His name was Dexter first, which breaks all my rules with a 'D' 'X' and 'R' ending. Mom renamed him Rowdy because, well, he IS! But that is another 'R' 'D' and 'Y' ending. . I need an ending of 'N' or 'T', I'm thinking Nougat, or something to do with his brown tux. No, not Tux... it has an 'X'. Wait, John Legend wore a brown tux to the Academy Awards...hmm, Legend? What about famous tuxedos, Bond? Brosnan? Or tux brands, styles....
With three dogs, three horses and three cats... I am going to miss my naming process. It will be a while before I can go through the labourous decision, the research, consideration and labelling. *sigh*

Tune in!

How is it that people pay so little attention to their bodies?? No really...
"I went to the hospital because I was having stomach pains, and I was in labour!" ?????????? SaY wHaT? What did you miss? The weight gain, the lack of menstration, the baby moving, maybe weird cravings? Granted some, SOME of these women may have continued life as normal right till the point, but most likely they didn't want to know and didn't pay attention!
"I have a headache, and my eyes are dry, maybe I'm allergic to something."..."Well, have you drank any water today?"..."No, why?" Gahhhh! Really? Your brain floats in water, your eyes float in water... so if you don't have enough of it....
"I went in for a physical and I am healthier then the doctor!" Buddy, you are 300lbs, and you smoke like a freakin chimney, what in gods name is your doctor like?
"Do you have a pain killer?"..."Maybe, why?"..."I have a bit of a headache... toothache... backache... cramps... muscles pain... "(daily occurance)..."The doctor says I have a stomach ulser." Huh, HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?
"My little guy was home sick from school for a couple days, I felt so bad for him, so made him pancakes and gave him icecream." awww, how, wait, you did WhAt?? You fed him crap, and more crap, ontop of the crap his body was trying to get rid of? Great parenting!
No, I am not the most health concious person in the world, I eat junk food, and go outside without my jacket on, but I at least try to listen when my body yells at me.
Milk=phlemy throat, so I don't drink milk.
Too much sugar=soar throat, so when I am sick, I don't eat sugary stuff.
My entire girl cycle is off= appointments.
No water=a body that isn't 90% water like it's supposed to be, so when I hurt a little, I drink water just to see what happens.
Pills=chemicals/possibly addictive and/or harmful substances, so when I am feeling yucky, I see what the earth can offer first, resort to chemicals if that doesn't work.
Ingesting chemicals=bad, so I don't smoke (does anyone at all have an excuse for this anymore?) and I really try to limit processed anything.
Our body doesn't whisper, it yells, all the time! Why do most of us choose only to listen to the good stuff? It's like having a friend that we only visit with when we need to talk, but are busy when they need to talk.
People...TUNE IN!

Self Murder

Suicide is the last ditch effort of an impossible selfish person...this opinion was the unspoken thought at the back of my head since I had first heard and understood that people actually took their own life. My resilient, quiet, but always managing way, could not understand why on earth someone would do such a thing. To be perfectly honest, I still don't understand, and I hope and pray that I never fully do. What I do understand now is the soul shattering reality of having someone you love take themselves from you. Not someone you know and like, but someone who shared your life, enriched it with every event and made you smile inside and out. I understand the lung crushing grief, the inescapable guilt, and the dull ache that sits just around the corner of every memory. Is suicide the last ditch effort of an impossibly selfish person? In many cases yes. But, en mass, it cannot be painted that way. Sometimes, despite a team of professionals, and a horde of supportive, devoted family, an illness of the mind that is born of the devil himself, wins. "When people kill themselves they think they are ending the pain, but all they are doing is handing it on to those they leave behind." -Jeanette Walls. Shells of people remain behind, parents, siblings and friends with shadows of who they used to be, crying at the sight of certain wines, the sound of certain music, the discovery of forgotten items. Some recover, some are never the same. I don't know where I am at this point, my resilience hasn't failed me, but the right song nearly brings me to my knees, dreams are mixed blessings. I will be OK I'm sure, but I will never be the same. Though I am getting better and trying really hard, I can hardly contain a shudder when most people hug me. Before I even realized it, I had withdrawn from many of my friendships, neglecting the bonds that helped hold me together. Thankfully my marriage remained a sturdy oasis, and the friendships were easy to recover. Is suicide the last ditch effort of an impossibly selfish person. If you see the swath of destruction at it's heals, you have to say yes. But if you know a wonderful, caring to a fault person, with charisma, beauty, easy sense of humour and a quick mind, who makes that choice, you have to say no. We are all entitled to our selfish moments aren't we? Does it serve their memory well at all to think that way, no, does it calm our grief, certainly not. The questions we are left with after are never ending, are they?

Life Themes

There is no theme to life. Not really, we may be sisters, daughters, mothers, (not me) friends, wives, co-workers. Maybe we are lawyers, janitors, doctors, or barmaids. None of these are themes.
We may love dogs, cat, horses... now that, that can almost become a theme. If we get wrapped up in showing, breeding, and competing. If our house is a menagerie of little puppy/kitty/horsey coat-hooks/watches/art/doormats/fridge magnets, that might be like a theme.
But is it healthy? Since a theme is what everything else is based on, should one single thing in life guide every aspect? Wait...as I write that, I know. YES absolutely.
But not our role in life, not our work, family members or anything physical at all. Because none of those things can flow into everything. Simply being a sister, we might be a great sister, won't encourage us not to steal things from work or lie about an animals training or breeding to make a sale. And owning a wonderful pet may make us value the life of animals, but will it help us treat our mom with respect or keep a friend's confidence? Making something physical our life theme, may very well damage all other areas of life. "Workaholic" has become a common phrase, concerning someone who tends to neglect family, friends, and pets alike, in favour or their job.
So, what theme will guide our relationships to success, and make us honest, hardworkers? What will make sure we play fair, stay balanced and look after our responsibilities properly? It is our values, our beliefs. The set of standards we hold ourselves to and know are right.

UP!

Have you ever seen the side of a house that is covered with vines? It reaches along each tiny seam , winding up along little nooks and crannies, following no specific route except UP! It clings to every cleft, wrapping it's self snuggly around whatever hold it needs to get UP! And all the while it is pulling fresh nutrients from the ground and profusely pushing out leaves and blossoms to share with the world. It never takes a break, night falls, it may tuck away its flash flowers, as it continues its diligent climb UP!
As long as the house is built for it, the vine causes no damage in it's persistent, endeavour. In fact, as it slowly blankets the wall with it's lush foliage, it creates an insulation of sorts. Keeping the sun off the brick, allowing the house to stay cooler in the summer heat. Sometimes the vine even has blossoms that perfume the air seductively. But it's only goal, is UP!
Only when winter comes, and the vine stands naked in the cold, does it wait. Maybe it even dies back to the ground. However, when the warmth returns, the trek is once again taken with vigor, UP! UP! UP!