It's Just a Dog
From time to time people tell me, "Lighten up, it's just a dog," or, "That's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent or the costs involved for "just a dog."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog."

Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted.

Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and, in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."

"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.

"Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that makes me a better person.

Because of "just a dog" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

So for me, and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past and the pure joy of the moment.

"Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a human."

So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog." just smile....because they "just don't understand."

- Anonymous



That goofy dog at the top of the page is Ink, a Labrador mix mutt that my son brought home from a farm. This moppet to the left is our Lhasa Apso, Cookie Bear, that I bought after my Pekingese had to be put to sleep due to poor health . My husband grew up on a dairy and never viewed a dog as anything more than another working animal, he never viewed dogs as something to share a house with or as a furry friend and companion.

I personally can not live without a dog or cat in my life. Most people do not understand this and I've often had problems explaining it to them, but the poem above does a pretty good job of it. It's evidently been around for a while, but I had never seen it until I happened upon it in the comments section of a Yahoo story.  

Although technically Ink is supposed to be my son's dog, she's starts whining and yipping trying to get my attention the moment she hears me drive up, and keeps it up until she can get to me. Her "carrying on" alerts Cookie that Mommy is home and together they are falling all over each other trying to be the first one to get to me. What follows next is on average three minutes of wiggling, bouncing, and running for joy. Ink forgetting that she is too big to be picked up will try to jump up in my arms, and Cookie wiggles so much that I usually have to put her down before I drop her. After the initial greeting though Cookie Bear will usually gravitate to my husband and Ink towards me.

No human, let me repeat that, no human has ever greeted me with such open joy. My grandson comes close. During this warmer weather he's usually out front playing in the driveway or on the front lawn and when he sees my car he usually stops what he is doing and hurries towards the car. Part of it is because his Mimi is home and she will carry him around and cuddle him, but another part of it is he likes sitting on Mimi's lap while I pull the car into the garage. So while its close its not the same, he can be easily diverted by someone or something else once we are done parking the car.

Ink and I have a special bond. She is by my side almost every second I am home. She stays by my side when I work in the yard and when she is put out during dinner will usually sit at the sliding glass door looking in and following me with her eyes. When I'm washing dishes at the sink she will sit and watch me through the kitchen window. When we go out she monitors my personal space and when we stand in line at the Petco, no one is allowed closer than three feet without me giving her the ok When I put the grandson down for bed, she will lay outside the door until I come out. When its time to go upstairs to bed she will follow me up and lay outside the shower and wait. If I'm ill she never leaves my side. And when I crawl into bed she will jump up and lay down beside me, resting her head against my chest. She'll listen to my heartbeat and soon fall asleep and I'll follow the rhythm of her breathing and soon I'll turn off the TV and go to sleep too.

My husband isn't fond of Ink sleeping next to me, even though Cookie is usually on his side of the bed, because he says she's too big and that I surely can't be comfortable with her there next to me. But she's not too big and together we only take up our half of the bed, so I continue to let her up. Plus in my opinion, for her pure faithfulness and loving companionship, she deserves a good nights rest

Thoughts About The Farm

The farm pictured at the top of my blog is not where I live, it is the ideal that I dream of, but unlikely to happen. It is idyllic for me, a snug farmhouse for the family and a large barn to house the animals throughout the winter and hold the bounty from the autumn harvest. Whenever I look at this picture I can imagine the riot of color in the fall, the cold breath of winter, the soft promise of spring and the lazy days of summer with fireflies dancing in the evenings, and until recently it was what I was shooting for as a goal.

But recently I’ve started rethinking the dream, and at this point in my life I think it would be better to find a place with more temperate weather throughout the year. I don’t need to be shoveling snow in the winter or worrying about ice storms taking out the power lines, and let’s face it winter is the season that can make or break a location. I still want a small farm,  because when I’m totally honest with myself I find that I just can’t acclimate to the weather changes like I used to and the cold bothers me more and more each year. Work around the farm is hard enough without being physically miserable due to the weather.

There are a couple of pluses when one starts of looking more towards a more temperate zone: that the growing season will be much longer, utility expenses tend to be lower and there are not the wild spikes seen in other temperature zones, clothing costs are less because you don’t need as many wardrobes, and if you live in locale where alternate human-powered transportation is a goal, then a warmer climate affords you many more options.

The Central Valley where we live now isn’t too bad, it does get down to freezing at times during the winter and we generally have a couple weeks of 110+ weather during the summer but, even here the weather is changing and the spring seems to come later each year. Plus the people and culture of the area have changed greatly over the last two decades and quite frankly it’s not for the best and I would prefer not to live out my life in an area that at times seems to be inhabited by arrogance, gross stupidity, and profound laziness and sense of entitlement.

I know such a place may not exist or be out of my reach financially, but I think the weather issue is an important one to consider when one is making plans and goals for the future, especially when one is in their mid-40’s. All I know is I’d like to spend the rest of my life on working my little farm wearing my Birkenstocks.

I know its a horrible thing, someone having the nerve to start a blog and then posting anything, and its not like I can't think of a million things to say. The problem is that on this beautiful planet we live one I'm only allotted a measly 24 hours a day. Not that I mean to sound like I'm complaining, because I fully realize that there are some people who won't get the whole 24 hours today.

The problem lies when one becomes what many term a "super commuter."  The bottom line is that driving 180 miles a day round trip really takes up a big chunk of your life. The family and I could move closer to my work, but right now with husband's schedule that isn't really a solution either.

So how'd I get this post written you may ask? Lunch time at my desk.

Confession Time

I have an embarrassing secret, well it is for me. For 13 years, I've been paying monthly fees for a small storage locker. When I first rented it the cost was $45.00 per month and over time it has increased to its current cost of $53.00 per month. The reason this is embarrassing for me is because of how much money I have thrown away on this. If I average out the monthly cost to $49.00 a month, it factors out to being $7,644.00! That is embarrassing, and here's the thing of it, other than two large plastic totes (one for each of my kids) that houses the school mementos and the baby stuff I set aside for each, and a couple of other totes that I have, the locker is full of stuff we do not use nor need. There are some items of potential value; Madame Alexander dolls, antique glassware and sewing machine, but for the most part the majority of the stuff should have been hauled away to charity years ago.
Originally the storage was rented because there was no place at the house for storing holiday decoration, out-of-season clothing and the other seasonal items because we did not have a garage. The rental was supposed to be a "temporary" solution until a 10 X 10 storage shed could be built in the backyard. In the beginning, the locker only had about a dozen boxes against one wall. You could get to what you wanted easily and without having to move more than two boxes. However, over time that thing has filled up horribly. The sad thing is that probably 80% of these additional items come from my daughter's room. Stuff that was cleared out over the last decade when she would misbehave and other than the TV, stereo and a couple of other items she never asked for anything else out of the storage, and in the end her room became outfit with items suited to her current interests, albeit fewer items.

I tell you all of this for a couple of different reasons. First, while moving in December we had a discussion that we were going to clean out the storage and get rid of all the stuff as soon as the weather permitted. At first, my daughter insisted upon going through the stuff. My husband told her that we didn’t have time for that; we just needed to get it done. She stormed off and we didn’t discuss it any further for a day or so. When it came up again a couple of days later, she looked at me and said “If I haven’t missed it by now, I’m not going to, just get rid of it.”  I immediately asked her if she was sure she didn’t want to go through it “just in case?”  But her response was a firm “no. ” It was then that I realized that while she may be a little bit of a packrat, I was her enabler. Not only that but I was sending out a mixed message. Here I was expounding on the benefits of living with less and wanting to serious downsize the material items in our household, and here I was trying to tempt her into going through the stuff in storage to see if she wanted any of it. It also forced me to admit that this is tendency to keep things just because of emotional attachment is something of a family legacy, a horrible habit inherited from my mother, and something like all other bad habits that needed to stop. My memories of deceased grandparents are not dependent upon the chotzkies in the storage locker. The second reason I’m telling you this is because in a way now, I’m committed, everyone knows and I can’t imagine having to face people and admit that I’m still paying on a storage unit that is filled with junk.

So here is my plan, every Saturday I’m going to load up my car with as much stuff as I can and donate what is usable and throw the rest away. There, now I’m committed.

New Blog!

I know just what the world needs, another new blog. But stayed tuned, its time to simplfy life and start living the life I was born to live.