Dogs, Discourse, and Dementia

Winter Swing - ready for the presses

2011-07-31T14:03:00.000-05:00

Old Piano

2011-07-13T18:56:00.000-05:00

Turning

2011-03-22T20:48:00.003-05:00

I want to thank my brother, John, for his editing suggestions. They made my poem...PERFECT!

What to do?

2011-03-07T21:32:00.000-06:00

What to do when you hate your job?

The career you chose turns out all wrong,

but a six-figure income pays all your debt.

Woe the fate of frightened rat,

Foot caught tight, a financial trap.

What to do when life’s like that?

What to do when you want to run?

How to change what you’ve become,

seeming to unravel, thoroughly undone?

Know that time waits for no one.

Feeling your soul shrivel, and yet, not die.

What to do when your world makes you cry?

What to do for some inner peace?

Halt the madness, what do you really seek?

What you want isn’t something you can buy,

money doesn’t make happiness thrive.

Your life is about choices, it’s not set in stone.

What to do is up to you alone.

Selfish?

2011-01-27T21:19:00.000-06:00

Last night's project

2011-01-24T18:50:00.000-06:00

The Toast

Here's to us, my fair Lassies.
Let us raise our fine glasses,
hear the clinks of cut crystal
and once more tip that bottle.
Taste the wine as it passes
o'er tongues that still thirst.
To the floor, I beg, give the toast first,
Be soft, as a down-feathered mattress,
should we all drink too much and fall on our asses.

The Last Frontier

2011-01-12T21:45:00.000-06:00

This poem is dedicated to Kitsy Seveland, who if not for her, I'd have missed out on the adventure of a lifetime....in Alaska!

Today, I discovered the "Genius"

2011-01-09T20:37:00.000-06:00

This morning, my cousin, an artist, sent me a link to a video about creativity and "genius". I think I have felt this concept in the past but had never coined a precise word.
This was my email response to my cousin...

Thanks for that link today. My 1st thought was that I need to give Julia Roberts kudos for her portrayal of Liz in "Eat, Pray, Love". I think she nailed Liz's persona to a tee.

After listening to Liz's theory on creativity, I decided that my "genius" took a vacation while I have gone to work at a much more mundane "real life" job and put my writing on hold. Oh the torture of having to make a living, instead of living my life through my creativity!

And yet, the madness creeps in and I question my sanity.

So dear cousin, continue your works of art, because you can. I promise I shall not envy you, even though your "genius" is with you in your studio.

In the light, ~Diana~
p.s. - if you happen to stumble across my "genius", please tell her I miss her and to come home, that I wait for her.

My cousin responded that my "Genius" was never that far away and all I had to do was call out to her. She was absolutely right. Tonight inspiration was in abundance and the words tumbled into my mind from my little "Genius".

and even later, I was asked to explain what I meant by the word "Genius". So into words, here is what I believe.....

There's an ancient belief that all creativity is a gift from beyond, an inspiration from the gods or God (depending on your viewpoint), that we are able, for a moment in time, to touch the divine...a "genius", that must be shared with humanity.

This "genius" is seperate from our mortal being, its presence whispers in our ears, the words, the music, a design, an idea or it guides our hands, our feet, to paint, to draw, to sculpt, to dance, to create a small portion of divinity.

To raise humanity out of the chaos and reach for the stars.

Lastly, if you don't care for my works of poetry and writing, I'm only going to feel half bad. I'll let the other 50% of the angst go to my "Genius". :-)

Inspiration strikes twice - The Angel

2011-01-09T19:42:00.001-06:00

Tonight I was inspired to write, not one, but two poems. This is the story that led to the 2nd poem.

An Act of Kindness

Winter Swing

2011-01-09T17:23:00.003-06:00

Friendships and Health

2010-11-13T20:40:00.000-06:00

This was sent to me and I found it quite interesting. Not only interesting, but I also believe it to be absolutely true. My life would not be complete with out my girlfriends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They teach this at Stanford University.......

"I just finished taking an evening class at Stanford. The last lecture was on the mind-body connection - the relationship between stress and disease. The speaker (head of psychiatry at Stanford) said, among other things, that one of the best things that a man could do for his health is to be married to a woman, whereas for a woman, one of the best things she could do for her health was to nurture her relationships with her girlfriends.

At first everyone laughed, but he was serious.

Women connect with each other differently and provide support systems that help each other to deal with stress and difficult life experiences. Physically this quality “girlfriend time" helps us to create more serotonin - a neurotransmitter that helps combat depression and can create a general feeling of well being.

Women share feelings whereas men often form relationships around activities. They rarely sit down with a buddy and talk about how they feel about certain things or how their personal lives are going. Jobs? Yes. Sports? Yes. Cars? Yes. Fishing, hunting, golf? Yes. But their feelings? Rarely.

Women do it all of the time. We share from our souls with our sisters/mothers, and evidently that is very good for our health. He said that spending time with a friend is just as important to our general health as jogging or working out at a gym.

There's a tendency to think that when we are "exercising" we are doing something good for our bodies, but when we are hanging out with friends, we are wasting our time and should be more productively engaged— not true. In fact, he said that failure to create and maintain quality personal relationships with other humans is as dangerous to our physical health as smoking!

So every time you hang out to schmooze with a gal pal, just pat yourself on the back and congratulate yourself for doing something good for your health! We are indeed very, very lucky. Sooooo let's toast to our friendship with our girlfriends.

Evidently it's very good for our health."

Three Weeks in Florida

2010-11-09T22:47:00.002-06:00

I've been remiss in my blogging, but I think I have an excellent excuse.....I just became a Grandmother for the first time! That's right, little Alexander Campbell arrived on November 1st, 2010. For you other Nerds out there, Alex is the little Binary Boy or "Lil Bit" for short. How so, you ask? His birthday is 11/01/10.
My new moniker is "Granna" and I am as proud as a peacock and pleased as Punch. How's that for idiom overuse?

On October 23rd, I left Topeka and drove to Clarksville, TN, where I spent a day and a half with my niece, her husband and her three wonderful children. There was an added bonus because my ex-brother-in-law was also there. He and I have been friends for many years, but I haven't seen him in quite some time. We all had fun at the Pumpkin Patch, picking out the children's Halloween Jack O'Lanterns and I had lots of photo ops to practice with my camera.

On Monday the 25th, I continued my trek to Florida and arrived late that night. Florida is where my daughter and son-in-law have lived for the past six years.

I arrived in plenty of time for the "Big Event". Since this is their first baby, I consider myself lucky that Alex arrived only a week after I did. I have had plenty of time to help the young couple transistion into parenthood. Doubly so, since my daughter ended up having to deliver via ceasarean section.

I'm going to end for now and continue writing about my travels to and from Florida when I get back home.

I'll leave you with a link to an interesting blog. Food For Thought

Love Hurts

2010-10-18T20:51:00.003-05:00

Morning Miracle

2010-10-11T06:06:00.008-05:00

Awaken the dawn

first break of day.

Vivid hues hasten

ebon darkness away.

Golden Sun ascends

into an eastern sky,

chases after the Moon,

a silver maiden grown shy.

Standing still, watching,

I'm silenced by awe.

This morning miracle shimmers

orange, a radiant round ball.

I raise camera's lens,

focus, then pray

I'll capture the vision

bedazzled eyes witness today.

Autumn Prayer

2010-10-04T17:54:00.000-05:00

Before I close weary eyes to sleep,

At life's photos I chance to peek

one picture captured, an icy view,

The mind conjures shivers, fingers turning blue.

A final shudder, then skyward I say...

Happy dreams spin my darkest hours away,

I pray Autumn lingers, keeping Winter at bay.

~ Diana 2010 ~

The Time Of Your Life

2010-09-15T09:22:00.000-05:00

I believe "the time of your life" is a bit of an oxymoron.

Living your life is the longest amount of time you will spend in this life,

but the time spent living your life will appear to have flown by,

as quickly as the crow flies.

At the end of the day, can you nod your head,

and say "I had the time of my life"? ~ Diana

The Date Speaks For Itself

2010-09-11T03:28:00.001-05:00

I wrote on FaceBook about my memories of this day. The horror, the fear, the utter disbelief that something like that could really happen in the U.S., the sorrow for all the people that died and their loved ones left behind to pick up the pieces.
What happened within the sphere of my own little world was eclipsed by this immense catastrophe and abomination.
What I know now is that September 11, 2001 was the beginning of the end and my life would be changed forever.
Things happened during my drive home from Herndon, VA, which began that very day due to my United flight being grounded, that would drive a wedge between my husband, Ray and myself. A rent in the fabric that bound us together that would never be repaired and my marriage would end less than two years later.

I sit now in front of my computer in the wee hours before dawn, nine years after that explosive day, wondering about the life I'm leading. Do I have a purpose anymore? What is it that I really want to do with the remaining days, hours, and minutes of my life? Lately, I've had many reminders of how precious life is and how quickly it can be snatched away. I don't want to waste a second!
Which comes to my next question...What is it that will make me feel my life has been worth something?
These are questions not easily answered by me and no one else can answer them for me.

A Conundrum!

When I made the choice to leave California and totally change my life, I had great aspirations. BUT, as that old saying goes, "The best laid plans of mice and men, or in this case, woman..."
I swore I never wanted to commute again, and here I am, 3 years later, commuting 65 miles one way to a job, that on its best day, can claim to pay me a salary that covers my debts and allows me to live comfortably, plus the people I work with are decent human beings. I have enjoyed quite a lot of laughter in their company and maybe that's the one reason that keeps me coming back.
The down side is that I bought a 2008 Ford Escape Hybrid, which was supposed to last me a good 10 years, but can now boast 95,000 miles (all accumulated with me behind the wheel) and I have a job that gives me NO sense of satisfaction. I create nothing, much less anything of beauty or lasting worth.

The home I've been renovating has turned into a beautiful Albatross. I couldn't sell it for what I have into it, especially in this economy, if my life depended on it.
On the bright side, the Albatross is beautiful and suits me. It is something that I have created, that I still take pride in, and it's still a work in progress.

I can't say how many times I've been told that I am a very lucky woman. Generally, this has been said by women that are unhappily married and financially stuck in the marriage because they don't work or the job they have wouldn't support them. I don't envy them, but living single isn't always as glamorous as some people like to envision.

Well, since I can't solve all my questions tonight due to a tired brain (it's my Friday and putting in a 50 hour work week, add in 12.5 hours of commuting, really does me in), instead, I've decided to share how I plan to honor those that were lost during that infamous day, nine years ago.

I am going out and buying 4 trees to add to the beauty of my home. I wish I could get them planted today, but that just isn't going to happen. I'll be lucky to just get them picked out, paid for, and a future date set for planting. I want a "Flame" Maple and another larger shade tree for the front yard and two colorful shade trees for the back yard . With luck, they will provide shade and color for years to come.

So to honor the dead, I will promote life, beauty, and a positive impact on the environment. Beautiful life that continues long after I'm dead and gone.

I will never forget September 11, 2001.

Why I Cry

2010-09-07T01:03:00.011-05:00

If I talk out loud, I'll probably choke up and cry, so instead I'll write.

I wouldn't have cried earlier today, but my brother finally cracked. It's the first time that has happened since we were little kids.

Our parents were extremely stoic when we were growing up. Tears were a sign of weakness.

Even when my dad punched me in his rare fits of rage, no teardrops would spill over to leave telltale tracks sparkling down my cheeks, to give way to terror and hurt.

Life has taught me to cry. Cry at the pain caused by sorrow and loss. Cry in empathy when I know the people I love are hurting. Cry at Man's inhumanity to each other and at his/her cruelty to animals and the world around us. To cry in the face of death.

I take care of the people I love, it's just what I do, what I've always done. Not in the nurturing Earth Mother way, but as the protector, the champion, sometimes through sheer strength of will, and of course, with the money I've earned from working since I was fifteen. I've been doing it as long as I can remember.

It is very hard for me not to want to rush to my family's or friend's aid, and my heart breaks when I can't fix their problems. I try hard to accept that which I cannot change nor repair.

Today I had a phone conversation with my brother.

Here is my brother John's story...

[a short history]
A little over a year ago, they had to walk away from their home in Florida. John had been working for his son-in-law at a Title and Loan company near Tampa. With the collapse of the economy, the company floundered and work was cut back, as well as salaries. John's included.

Cathy was working in Clearwater, but then she got sick and ended up in the hospital. When she was feeling better, she worked when she was able.

They were offered an opportunity to open a new Rehab/Detox Center in Nashville. They agreed they both hated Florida and jumped at a new beginning. They spent most of their savings and moved to Tennessee, but now they could only afford to rent. John had told me several months back that with a foreclosure on their record, some places won't even rent to them. Fortunately, they did find a cheap place to live and keep their pets.
In Nashville, Cathy's 99 year old mom (who had been living with them for almost 18 years) finally went into a nursing home nearby.

[from the phone call]

Early last month, Cathy, had to go back into the hospital. I didn't know that until today. They do not have medical insurance and I'm pretty sure their doctor bills are astronomical. Despite the setbacks, they are generally happy people, poor but proud.

Then two weeks ago, their tiny home was broken into. The robbers had to have been idiots, because they smashed through a window in the backyard, even though the back door was not locked. John and Cathy's two dogs must have caused a ruckus, but Eli is 10 years old and Millie, 13, plus a cat, Sammy, 9. are not spring chickens anymore. Too old to put up a strong fight against young thugs.

Eli and Millie have been best friends for 10 years, ever since Eli was rescued off a country road during a rainstorm near Topeka as a 6 week old puppy. Millie is a Golden Retriever (the dumb blonde) and Eli is a Belgian Malinois (the genius goofball).

Needless to say, the burglars terrorized the dogs by throwing all kinds of stuff from around the house at them to keep them at bay. A lot of personal items were broken, but they only stole John and Cathy's laptops (their livelihood) and a large monitor.

Because John and Cathy both have to use a computer to do their jobs (basically self-employed), they had to use part of their rent money to buy another computer. They don’t have renter's insurance.

John said that after the burglary, it seemed like Eli's spirit was broken. Maybe because the old boy hadn't been able to protect the house which had always been his job. John and Cathy were just glad neither dog was killed.

Then last night, a mistake was made and tragedy struck.

John got home from work late. Cathy was in bed, because she wasn't feeling well, and because she is partially deaf, didn't hear any of what was to follow.

John took both dogs out front to stretch their legs (not on leashes, because he says it was late and there weren't any cars out). He usually stands out there with them and smokes a cigarette, but last night he stepped inside for just a second to turn on the new laptop in order to finish some paperwork.

He had no sooner begun the boot-up when he heard Eli's agonized screams. Rushing back out the front door, no car in sight, he saw Eli lying in the middle of the street. Millie stood on the sidewalk waiting for Eli to get back up. John rushed to Eli's side as did two neighbors. He said Eli looked pretty messed up, obviously he had been hit by a car, but he was alive. Eli stopped screaming as soon as he saw his daddy. His trusting eyes knowing that Daddy would make everything better.

One of the neighbors rushed back home and returned with a large board so they could lift Eli into the back of John's truck. John said his mind had stopped functioning at that point and he was thankful the neighbors were there. One of them rode in the back of John's truck with Eli, while John followed the other neighbor's car to the emergency animal hospital.

They rushed Eli in and while my brother stood beside his beloved dog, tears flowing unabashedly, he was handed the written estimate. In order for the veterinarians to take measures to keep Eli alive, it would cost over $1000.00. It might as well have been a million dollars. My brother had $108.00 in his pocket and $50.00 in the bank, the sum total of his liquid assests. He gave it all to the vet, but instead of saving Eli, he had to choose to put him to sleep. He gave Eli a final hug goodbye, then stood outside while the deed was done. He left the vet hospital still owing another $100.00.

My brother has never had human children of his own, Eli and Millie are his children.

My brother's pain and anger came to a head, when he asked me if I could send any pictures I might have of Eli, because all his pictures were taken when the laptops were stolen. That's when he broke down completely.

On the phone, through his tears, he asked me if I thought that he or Cathy had brought this bad Karma down on themselves.

I know that all they have ever tried to do is help other people. They are genuinely good people.

So, I told him that I believe that evil walks among us and at times raises its ugly head against good people. Maybe to make us give up and turn away from our goodness, but we must hold steadfast. Till my dying breath, I will believe that good can prevail.

I told him to remember that they had saved a sad and frightened little puppy from certain death ten years ago and given him a wonderful life, a life of love. Don't lose sight of all those good years, little brother and then I promised I would send him every picture I had ever taken of Eli, Millie, Mozart (their old cat, now deceased), their Topeka home and of course, the ones I have of the both of them through the years.

I told him that my house is big, that if their world gets to be too harsh, my door will always be open.

I told him I love him and Cathy.

Ah, that I could open Time in a Bottle.
Proferred to my brother and his wife,
please imbibe,
to dull grief's pain, linger only memories, treasured,
and softly abide.

Now you know why I cry.

An Excellent Video and Bit of Blogery!

2010-08-18T13:05:00.007-05:00

First off, I want to say my world view is skewed from so many Americans that have never lived outside the good 'ol US of A.
I spent 2 years of my life in Kuwait, vacationed in Tehran, Iran, and met many Muslim people that were nothing but kind to me and my family. The only time I remember being threatened was by a group of Bedouin women that saw me outside in my shorts and tank top. They stopped to shake their fists and scold me in a dialect I didn't speak.
On the other hand, I felt sorry for them in their black burqas and thought they must be frying in the 100+ degree afternoon sun, but I never felt as if my life were at stake.

I just want to say that my heart aches when I think that a select group of Islamic Terrorists, certain American Religious Zealots and the Political Power Players are causing my Fellow Country Men and Women to lose their basic common sense and forget the reason behind the U.S.'s greatness....OUR FREEDOMS.

Keith says it a lot better than I can....

Keith Olbermann speaks out

And then there is this blog...even the comments that follow are interesting.

Ground Non-Zero, Non-Mosque and Evangelical Nonsense

Out Cold?

2010-08-12T20:12:00.000-05:00

While I was wiring up the new internet service, I turned around to find my assistant had died of boredom.

The camera I had on hand was my iPhone. I was chatting with my California friend, Deanna, while doing the installationl, turned and told her to hold on, had to capture my nutty dog as proof a Whippet can be relaxed.
No drugs were used. No animals were harmed.

I love this dog! Everyday he makes me laugh! If I want Fyre and Abby to come in the house, I tell Perry to go get them. You'd have to see it with your own eyes! He's out like a flash, passes the word, then hurries them along. Who's the real herding dog here???
You can read his body language, "Hurry Guys, Mom says you can come in and hang out. Hurry! Hurry! Before she changes her mind or leaves for work!"

Despicable Me

2010-08-04T16:25:00.000-05:00

http://despicable.me/

I went with my friend, Lori, aka Nana, and two of her three grandchildren to see this movie today. I'm giving this movie two thumbs up. Not only was the story entertaining with a heart-warming ending, but the characters' voices were perfect and the graphics....Spot On!

Lots of funny scenes throughout the viewing to tickle our funny bones and cause us to laugh out loud. Although a long movie by children's standards, the 2 hours flew by!

For those of you worried that it will scare the kids, fear not. Nana's grandkids, a boy and girl, 1st grade and Kindergarten age, assured us that the movie was not scary...AT ALL!

From An Angrier Day....exorcising demons

2010-07-27T21:10:00.001-05:00

Soul's Dance

2010-07-26T20:17:00.008-05:00

Soul’s Dance

My feet tap to an inner beat

That plays inside my head

I barely feel the burning heat

As I dance upon the sand

I bend and sway, I leap away

From the rush of foamy waves

Mind’s music blends with water’s roar

As I dance upon the shore

A joy to feel my body’s motion

Feel the sand cooled by the ocean.

This simple act, my spirit’s free
As I dance beside an azure sea

Towards the sky, my hands do reach
Exalted by the dazzling beach

A happy soul merges with the land

As I dance upon the sand.

© Diana July 2010

Time In A Bottle

2010-07-26T15:05:00.000-05:00

How I wish I could capture time in a bottle, then release a bit when extra is needed.

My dad passed away on June 5, 2010. He was cremated. There was no memorial. Dad was an atheist and that's the way he wanted it.

Last week, I drove to Albuquerque, New Mexico....to my dad and step-dad's house. I took Perry with me and sent Fyre and Abby to Kellene V's place. I knew they would enjoy all the attention they'd receive from her family. Plus, 3 dogs in a Ford Escape would not allow enough room to bring my father's treasures home with me.

There's always a method to my madness.

Perry is a good car companion. His presence prevents me from feeling so alone as I traverse the miles of prairie land. It's a long drive, to spend a day and a half at my destination, only to turn around and travel back the way I had come. As in most things, I do what has to be done.

I finished a really good audiobook while I was driving down there, one that I highly recommend...."The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest" by the late Swedish author Stieg Larsson. It's the conclusion of a trilogy.

My trip's purpose was to select a few mementos of times long gone. Items to remind me of the man I called "Dad", pictures from his life, a few of his paintings, a selection from his music and movie collection, and an assortment of nik-naks collected during his lifetime.

Those small things that shouldn't cause a negative impact on my step-dad's life.

I can feel your eyebrows raise in question, "Step-dad...but I thought she was talking about her father?"
It is true, my dad came out of the closet several years after my parent's divorce and for the past fifteen years has spent his life with a pretty terrific guy named Rick. I'm proud to call Rick my step-dad (for want of a better word). He stood by my dad during the good times, as well as the bad. He was there to care for my dad as his health failed, and was beside my father when he drew his last breath. Rick is the one that called to ask me to come and take what I wanted.

When I was making my selections, I tried to pick out some small items for my brother and sister, too. I hate making choices for others, especially when there has been almost no relationship between my siblings and our father.

I don't know what happened between Dad and them, maybe it was his lifestyly they could not tolerate, but for now, I'll attribute it to absence. I think of the song by Cat Steven's called "Cats In The Cradle" when I consider the father that was seldom around while we were growing up. He had his own agenda and children weren't as important to him when he was a younger man. He left the raising of children to my mother.

Dad died with few regrets, but the one he voiced to me, towards the end of his life, was how much he missed family being around. I, the least favored of his children, was the only one that made an effort to call him once a week and visit a couple times a year.
I didn't consider those calls a burden, but thought of the irony. He waited for my calls, hoping for news about his other two offspring. Sometimes I was able to oblige him.

My brother and sister have not spoken to one another for probably 20 years or more. I am the go-between, but in my dreams, still wish I had been born into a tighter-knit family.

His death was sudden. I'm still filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. His quality of life was almost non-existant. Two years ago, he finally lost the use of his legs and could no longer walk. He spent his days in a chair. His eyesight and hearing were failing rapidly. All the things he had loved to do and could just a few years prior, had been stripped away. Death was a mercy, but I miss our phone conversations.

Rick and I did not spend the whole time "picking, sorting, and packing". We took time to see a movie, "Inception", a sci-fi thriller that we both thoroughly enjoyed. We agreed that it was a "Keep You On The Edge Of Your Seat" movie. Afterwards, we feasted on a lobster dinner in memory of Dad and his gourmet tastebuds.

My trip home was uneventful, but I stayed entertained by a good audiobook, "The Forgotten Garden" by Australian author, Kate Morton.

On my next few days off, I will decide on the perfect spots in my home to hang my dad's paintings.

Maybe I will think about taking an art class. The thought of putting brush to canvas to see if I inherited some of his talent intrigues me.

My Scooby Doo

2010-06-18T22:03:00.001-05:00

Scooby-Doo - Where are you?

2010-06-18T21:07:00.000-05:00

Funny how adults my age still love Scooby-Doo. In fact, over the last week, pieces of the cartoon have popped up all over my life. It started when "Work" (a REAL 4 letter word) coerced me into being on the Employee Association. What that means is I get to be one of four that is responsible for buying the snack food in our break room. The kind of stuff that keeps my co-workers and me amped up on sugar. No one will eat the healthy food that's suggested for people of a certain age.

When "The Team" asked what we should buy, I suggested "Scooby Snacks" which went on to the suggestion that we should give our group a name. The Mystery Team was created.

Since that point, I have heard "Ruh Roh" when I've called to inform a manager that a piece of their equipment has failed. And how many people use the word "Zoinks"? I've heard that a couple times this week, too.

But the topper came today, when a co-worker/friend/fellow WOW player connected me to this little piece on the web I Hate My Job (warning: Mature Language)
We laughed until tears glistened on our cheeks.

A Wedding

2010-05-13T10:54:00.000-05:00

Here I am sitting in the airport in Kansas City, MO waiting for my plane to head west. The moment has finally arrived, after so many unexpected delays and set-backs.

Last night Topeka had several fierce storms blow through, bringing winds, torrential rain, lightning, thunder and hail. There were weather advisories for tornados and flooding.
Not to say I was stressed out, anymore so, than I've already been as the final countdown begins to the "Big Day".
But I really did want to get a good night's sleep, so I'd look bright-eyed and bushy tailed for my trip, instead of being that sleep deprived hag that stared back at me in the mirror this morning.

Thank goodness this wedding isn't "All about Me"! Nope, all eyes will be focused on the beautiful bride, my daughter, Tara and her handsome husband-to-be, Chris.

And what does it really matter that I'll have not just one, but two ex-husbands at the wedding? I promised Tara that I would be on my most charming behavior during the ceremony and reception to follow. I can do that! I've learned from the pros (my dad) how to be suave and debonair during moment's of undue stress. HA!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before I could finish this blog, my plane boarded and not wanting to miss out on picking a good seat, I tossed the laptop back in my bag and rushed to stand in line.

Why is it, that no matter where I select to sit on a plane, I will always ended up next to the crying baby? I wouldn't mind a few sniffles on take off and landing, but the whole trip?!?!?! I really need some total noise destroying earphones!

The Essence of M

2010-05-11T16:00:00.001-05:00

The Essence of M

Her face is a Waterhouse painting.

Timeless beauty, classic art,

But looks can be deceiving

something beyond Man's perceiving.

When you think you know her,

I beg, think again.

Unveil one mystery, more riddles, further hidden.

She's the veritable onion's skin,

peel away a layer, reveal darker depths within.

Under her soft alabaster veneer

hides a woman with a spine,

a forged titanium spear.

Mistake her for a bit of fluff

Blood may spill when she calls your bluff.

Innocent smile, sweet spring flower

hides a mind of exceptional power

Demeen or call her "babe, hon or sugar"

She'll slit your chauvinistic throat

then wield the knife at evening's dinner.

She paints her world with chromatic flair

surrounded by the unique and rare.

The woman's an enigma, a goddess, that's true.

But, Hecate or Aphrodite

which face will she show you?

My Reverie - words for a song

2010-05-10T05:39:00.010-05:00

He walked into the room
and my heart lost a beat
His smile, so beautiful and sweet
still I forgot to breathe.
I see us on a sandy beach
underneath a full moon's glow
His touch, perfectly divine.
I thrill that he's all mine.
I feel his silken lips touch me,
but then he speaks my name
breaking through my reverie.

My Reverie
It's not a memory
only a forbidden dream
of what will never be.

Reality steps in
Affix my sunny grin
I crack a little joke
a cover for a heart
that's broke.
Please don't let him see
into my reverie.

My Reverie
It's not a memory
only a forbidden dream
of what will never be.

He walked into the room
a very married man.
For everyone to see
his world's his family.
So what's a girl to do?
Each day that I live through
the only thing that belongs to me
is this cursed reverie.

My Reverie
It's not a memory
only a forbidden dream
of what can never be.

© Diana 2007, edited May 2010

Mother's Share

2010-05-08T06:19:00.003-05:00

Mother’s Share

In the shelter

of your arms

I felt safe

from peril and harm.

No monster would dare,

else be vanquished by

your laser beam stare.

You had eyes

in the back

of your head,

The kind that saw
everything
a teenager did,
filling my mind
with nail-biting dread.

Your sage advice
never came
with a set price.
Seldom heeded,
would not appreciate
but always did I pay
the lesson
was learned
way too late
in the day.

Time flits
and I step
into your shoes.
Hear your words
easily slip
through my own
aging lips.
My hands slide
to either side
of thickened hips,
while growing
extra eyes
to see through
my young one's
glib lies.

I blinked.
Years flew past.
Once more
desire to feel
my cheek
kissed.
Hear your voice
call me,
it's grievously
missed.
I know now
how much
you did care,
that you loved me
a mother's
full share.

Sweet Tara Fair

2010-04-21T18:27:00.009-05:00

Sweet Tara Fair

remains unaware

of how much I love her

and how much I care.

Thru light of day

and night grown dark

she is the pulse

of my beating heart.

Neither Time nor Space

my vision erased

The memories I hold

of her pretty face.

I've watched her live

from birth till now

wanting only her smiles, though

never her frowns.

Her eyes, twin twinkles,

bright Emerald Green

has captured a man's love,

so simple, it seems.

Sweet Tara Fair

with glossy dark hair

a cheek that dimples

with a secret to share.

Oh Mama, Dear Mama

please lend me your ear

My new husband and I,

a child shall we bear.

This heart of mine

given to my little girl

grows larger with longing, the longing to share

the love for the baby of Sweet Tara Fair.

My Sister

2010-04-17T11:34:00.000-05:00

My Sister

She came into my life,

I wasn’t all that thrilled.

She wasn’t much to look at,

through the eyes of a child.

She couldn’t talk, she didn’t walk

and all she did was cry.

And when I asked my mother what sisters were good for,

all she did was sit and rock and give a little sigh.

But thru the years, tween then and now

I’ve learned the reason why.

We share a bond, so deep and true

that nothing can divide.

We felt each other’s joy and pain

of bearing babies of our own.

We have the scars that mothers gain

getting children grown.

We miss our mom, the very same,

Death took her way too young.

At least we have each other,

someone to lean on.

My sister grows more beautiful

with each and every year.

I must remember to tell her so

and how I hold her dear.

We are two pieces of a whole

Her eyes can see my very soul.

It matters not we live apart

She’s always close, she’s in my heart.

Dedicated to my sister, Janice

Seshat - Patron Goddess

2010-04-17T08:22:00.000-05:00

Traveling down the miles of internet that stretch out before me with ever changing scenery, I occassionally get lucky enough to stumble on something that really peaks my interest.

Today was one such day....I found Seshat. I've always been drawn to Thoth, but now. I've been introduced to his female counterpart. Immediately, I feel an affinity and am going to claim her for my patron goddess.

For more information on Seshat and the reason I am enamored, check out this site
http://www.ancientegyptonline.co.uk/seshat.html

NEWS FLASH!!! READ ALL ABOUT IT!

2010-04-01T09:08:00.000-05:00

Google changes its name to Topeka!
Follow the link to read how Topeka is getting its name all over the Web and World!

You call this Spring in Kansas?

2010-03-20T12:08:00.000-05:00

I planted 50 pounds of grass seed yesterday morning. It was a balmy 63 degrees and I was motivated. Bring on the green!
One thing life has taught me, expect the unexpected. Here are three loves of my life showing me how to deal with those irritating little set backs.

I challenge you to a race!

Catch me if you can!

I win!

Perry likes to play naked with his "Hair Buds" Abby and Fyre

Disclaimer - No animals were hurt or killed during the filming of this event.

The Ritual

2010-03-19T03:07:00.004-05:00

The Vow ("revamped" for 2010)

2010-03-18T12:09:00.000-05:00

The Vow

A single candle lit

With silent hope, she sits

to face the open window.

Her heart in stomach’s pit.

The night sky black as pitch

Her breath comes with a hitch

Will love come to her within this hour,

Dare she give him this much power?

Her lips still burn from remembered kiss

The passion evokes such sensual bliss

Her mind recounts each tender touch

Desire builds ever much.

Quiet steps across the threshold,

Sultry eyes possessive bold

His face blocks out her memory

of whispered warnings told.

To her he bends his knee

to make a formal bow.

There is no hesitation,

he beckons, the time is now.

Tonight he chose eternity

For her to be his mate

A single bite upon his neck

Will seal him to an immortal fate.

A vampire's love is timeless

She whispers in his ear

I shall love you forever,

she vows through scarlet tears.

A Poem for Jim

2010-03-18T03:05:00.002-05:00

Photo Courtesy by Jim Mihalek

The Great Adventure - © Diana 2010

Here's to the train whistle
blowing an exultant song.
To steel horse sound as it races along.
Plays a symphony of clackety-clacks
a tune to be heard near the railroad tracks.

Here's to two brothers
renewing a familial bond.
To great adventures,
treasured memories
though boyhood's long gone.

Here’s to two men
cameras loaded, maps firmly in hand.
The truck’s rubber wheels bounce along
dirt roads, covering miles of Midwestern land
chasing trains, it’s their annual plan.

Here’s to seven days
An extraordinary week
Clicking pictures where the Monon
crosses NYC Belt of Kankakee
The Wabash and Ohio, it’s what they seek.

Here’s to two boys
inside the bodies of men,
chasing trains along the rails
straight out of South Bend
down to Ft Wayne, Indiana and daylight’s end.

Here’s to visions of masked robbers
and the Pinkerton, too
as the train rushes past
Lima, which isn’t near Peru,
to Dayton and Bellevue, it barrels on through.

Here’s to their lives and the sharing of dreams.
Through the eye of a camera lens
History is made in every shot that is gained
A story of brothers, to Dennis and James
And to their great passion, a passion for trains.

Lack of Comments leads to Choices

2010-03-17T01:19:00.000-05:00

Received a 2nd email to inform me that someone wanted to leave a comment and ran into technical difficulties.
Puzzled, I decided to investigate the why of it. Sure enough, there was the reason under "Settings, Comments".
I have corrected the issue, and now my Readers....comment away!

While troubleshooting the "Comment Crisis", I made a discovery. The choices available for a personal blog site's settings are extensive!

Which brings me to today's topic.....Choices.

Here in the United States, the average human has the opportunity to make a multitude of choices on any given day.

There are times I think I'll go mad during a particularly difficult decision-making process.

Here's just a few examples of choices I made during one evening in my life.

The first choice, eat at home or go out. I select eating out, because I don't feel like cooking.

Of course, if I wanted to mimic Emeril, that act would require a trip to the grocery store, where I would be faced with another assortment of culinary choices.

I may not have mentioned this before, but I find grocery shopping to be an overwhelming task. It would be so much better if I could just make a list and send someone else to do the purchasing, and hence, simplify my life. Wahoo!

But I digress....

I have made the choice to eat dinner out and am glad that I still have on my work clothes and tonight I can avoid making the decision of what to wear.

Living in a small city provides a bevy of fast food restaurants, chain-style restaurants, and a few fine-dining establishments. I query my taste buds with "What sounds tempting?"

After much deliberation, I choose a chain restaurant. I have enjoyed their service and fare on prior occasions.

I choose city streets instead of the Interstate to travel to the west side of town. My reasoning is there's still some daylight left and I'm not in that big a hurry. Being an inquisitive creature, I like to see if anything new has changed along the route since my last excursion in that direction.

I arrive at the restaurant in one piece, my nerves only slightly frayed by no less than three (3) close encounters with drivers intent on commiting vehicular (wo)manslaughter. They were definitely not making good choices inside their "death-mobiles".

Settling into my table by a window, I just begin to relax when a darling young waiter brings me the "new and improved" menu and rattles off the specials for the evening and then asks what I would like to drink. Being a responsible adult and knowing that I will have to drive home, I settle for Iced Tea, although the thoughts of downing several "Chocolate Cake" shots does hold a euphoric appeal. But no, Iced Tea will have to do.

Besides the specials, the menu offers five (5) pages of savory sounding taste sensations with several photoshop-enhanced pictures on every glossy page. My brain sounds the "overload" alarm and begins it's shut-down sequence.

I must choose rapidly and fallback to an item I have selected in the past, small Ceasar salad, a half-rack of Baby Back Ribs and Sweet Potato Fries. I am not able to decide, so request Ranch and Honey Mustard dip for the fries.

Mental-note to self...the next time I venture out, I must at least make an effort to try something new.

Fortunately, I'm satisfied with the choice I made and spend the next 30 minutes relishing that decision. As my plate begins to empty and my waistline expands to full capacity, the waiter again approaches my table to ask if I would like desert and whips open the Desert Menu.

Digitally altered pictures of Fudge Decadence, Cherries Jubilee, Lemon Merengue again assault my senses, but this time, my choice is easy.....a firm "No thank-you, I'm stuffed!"

Due to my tiredness, I head home after dinner, where I immediately shed the binding work attire and slip into more comfortable lounge wear (ie. - old sweats).

Heading back downstairs, I stop by the kitchen to select a few dog biscuits (treats for the dogs, not for me), prior to the dogs and I retiring to the library.

Snap decision...I flip on the TV and my Netflix-capable Blu-Ray player,

instead of another fun-filled round of World of Warcraft,

and then settle into my leather recliner.

This decision adds to additional choices. I look at the dogs and ask, "What shall we watch tonight? "Must Love Dogs" or "Hotel for Dogs" or maybe a scary one like "101 Dalmations"?"

They are happy to put the burden on me and allow me to choose. Dogs have that perogative!

I pick the love story.

Suddenly I'm struck with a craving for one of my small addictions.

I decide I'd like a small coffee while we watch the movie. I've done this to myself...again there are choices. I have Chocolate Raspberry, Caramel Machiatto, Creme Brulee, or just plain with a little cream and sugar.

So there you have it, just a small sampling of my evening's choices and those are the easy ones.

But at the end of the day, even though I complain about having so many choices in life, truth be told, I'm really glad to have them available to me. It keeps life from becoming dull.

Choosing the right name

2010-03-06T00:31:00.003-06:00

This is my new dog. His name is Windfall's Party Favor. He's an 11 month old Whippet that has been called "Popper". Generally, a call name sticks, but this time I have a problem. I already have a dog named "Poppy". She has been "Poppy" three years longer than he has been "Popper", therefore he will be given a new moniker.

I'm going to call the Whippet..."Perry". I know it's an odd name for a dog, but allow me to tell you a story and my reason will be revealed....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long, long time ago, there was a little girl that moved with her family to a tropical island, far, far away.

Moving can be exciting, but being the "new kid" at school can come with its own set of challenges, especially to a 7th grader.

On the first day at her new school, she was asked to stand up, introduce herself, tell the class a little about herself and where she had lived prior to her arrival on the island.
She always hated this part of "first day". It happened every time she arrived after the school year had begun, weeks, and in this case, months earlier, when everyone in class already knew each other. Her classmates would all turn in their chairs to stare, every eye directed towards her...judging, weighing and finding her wanting.
"Stop it!" she scolded herself, "Don't let your imagination make you see monsters where they don't exist."

She steeled her nerves, forced the butterflies to quit beating their wings against the inside of her stomach and rose from her chair. She took a surreptitious glance around the classroom and felt her heart plummet by what she saw. In order to keep her courage up, she turned her full attention back to the teacher and then, imagining that she was wearing large, leather horse blinders, blocked out everyone on either side of her, allowing only the teacher's image, standing behind the podium at the front of the class to fill her vision.

With a voice that belied her nervousness, she spoke clearly for all to hear, "Hello, my name is Diana and I moved here from...."

Before she could continue, a voice interrupted from the back of the room, drawling, "Hey girl, why don' ya stands up so's we kin all sees ya?"

Instantly, she felt her face begin to burn, knowing that everyone would see the bright scarlet color rushing up her neck and flooding her cheeks. Flushing hotter still, as the other children joined in to laugh at her shame.
What she had realized during the quick survey of her classmates and now had been brought to everyone's attention by a single question, was how tiny she was in stature compared to the rest of the 7th graders.

"Why does this always happen to me? I must not cry! I will not!" she thought angrily. It was a struggle to control her emotions and not let the self-hatred consume her, as once again she was the brunt of ridicule at being the smallest child in the classroom. She was often mistaken for a 4th grader, even by the teachers, which she found utterly humiliating.
She stood there, biting her lower lip and looking down at her shoes, wishing fervently that she could shrink enough to be able to crawl into the paper sack that held her lunch, while time seemed to stand still.

The peels of laughter filled her ears, seeming to go on forever, but in reality less than a minute had passed, when something unexpected happened. The teacher began to make shushing sounds and at the same instant, a tall, slender boy sitting at the desk next to Diana's suddenly stood up, turned towards the back of the room and said loudly, "Don't listen to him, Diana. That's Mickey, the class idiot. He has the IQ of an amoeba and this is his 2nd time in 7th grade."

That caused another burst of laughter from the class as Mickey spluttered in indignation, "I ain't an idiot! An so what... at least I'll git a driver's license 'fore you, Bing-ham-hock."

As Mickey's last word left his lips, the teacher slammed a heavy yardstick down on her desk, making a loud cracking sound, startling everyone into silence.
With a voice that carries as only a teacher's can, she commanded, "That is enough! One more outburst and some of you will be taking a trip to the Principal's office."

Mouths snapped shut as the threat sunk home. No one dared to even breath for fear of being sent to the dreaded Mrs. "Give You Heck" Peck. Everyone knew that the school principal had signed permission slips from all parents giving her authority to discipline their offspring, if the need arose. No amount of explaining on the part of the student would remove the guilty sentence, as the act of being sent to her office was all the condemnation required for punishment to be rendered.

The punishment came in the form of a Ping-Pong paddle with several holes drilled in it, thus preventing wind drag slowing its speed on descent. The offender would hear the wind whistling through those holes just prior to the violent impact with their tender bottom. No amount of clothing would prevent the wasp-like sting of pain her weapon of choice inflicted.

The teacher's voice broke the silence, though the scent of fear still hung palpable in the air...."Perry Bingham, please take your seat and now, Diana, would you please continue."

The boy next to Diana, took his seat, looked over at her and gave her a wink. She couldn't help herself; she grinned, and was able to finish what she had begun, "Before moving here, I lived in Kuwait." Diana saw the teacher nod, indicating that she should continue, so she explained, "That's a desert land in the Middle East, next to Saudi Arabia and along the Persian Gulf."

That made classmates raise their hands to ask, "Did you ride camels?", "Does it ever rain?", "How hot is it there?", "Did you have to wear a veil across your face?" and "Are there any trees or is everything made out of sand?"

The teacher allowed her to answer the questions and as she told about her life in a place far different from the rain forest she now lived in, the words flowed out of her. She held the class rapt, making them see, smell, and live her experiences. Later, some would swear that they could taste the Booza, the Arabic ice cream that Diana loved, when she described its silky smoothness as it slid icily down her throat, cooling her after an extremely hot, dry day spent shopping at the Souk.

Even Mike listened to her without any snide comments, and she overheard him say, "Cool!" when she told them how camels liked to spit on strangers if they were unlucky enough to approach too closely.

Time passed and before they knew it, the lunch bell rang, breaking the mesmerizing effect she had held over them. Everyone clapped as she concluded her tale.

Diana's champion turned towards her and said, "Want to eat lunch with me and my friends?" She nodded and followed him out of the classroom. He waited just outside the door, enabling her to walk beside him, before continuing out to the lunch tables.

As they walked along, he gazed down at her. An impish grin spread across his large mouth, exposing a perfect set of brilliant white teeth. With one hand, he brushed back an unruly lock of his almost white-blonde hair, then introduced himself "My name is Perry, by the way. Hey, you tell a really great story!"

Looking up at his face, she gazed into his eyes, twin pools of melted dark chocolate that shone with warmth, intelligence, and wit. She decided that he had very nice eyes, indeed, and her own stormy-blue eyes filled with gratitude, as she smiled back at him.

She replied, sincerity filling her voice, "Nice to meet you, Perry...and thanks for today! You are very gallant."

“Now there’s a word!” and picturing himself as Lancelot, his suit of armor shining in the sunlight, Perry laughed and then her laughter merged with his.

They remained friends until Diana's family moved again to another far away land. She never saw Perry again, but she would remember his crazy boy antics, done just to make her giggle and how he had told her that he loved to hear her laugh and never wanted to see her cry.

...and of all the past and future "First Days", that one will always remain special to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Perry" the hero that my mind has conjured from the distant fog of time, was a boy that was kind, sweet and funny. I haven't thought about him in probably 40 years....until my ride home from California this week.

The Whippet was the catalyst in shattering the veil over that stored memory of my long-ago friend. Watching his crazy dog antics causes me to laugh out loud and he seems very pleased with himself when I do. His intelligent eyes, twin pools of melted dark chocolate, appear to twinkle with humor and my heart is captured.

And so, I asked the Whippet if he liked the name "Perry". He opened his large mouth, his doggy smile exposing a perfect set of brilliant white teeth and kissed my cheek.

While I was in California...

2010-03-03T09:23:00.000-06:00

Topeka, the state capital of Kansas, decides to change its name to 'Google'.
http://www.cnn.com/2010/TECH/03/02/google.kansas.topeka/index.html?hpt=C2

The amazing thing is, after I read the article, I'm backing the decision 100% if it will accomplish its purpose.

Life Happens In Unexpected Ways

2010-02-25T16:01:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had one of those days when you wake up feeling sorry for yourself?

That happens to me on occasion, but I have an personal agreement. When the foul mood attempts to overcome my senses, I allow for a 5 minute pity party, and then I get a firm grip on myself and start remembering all the good things I do have in my life to be thankful for.

I had such a morning two days past. Waking up, overcome by the loneliness that I'm sure other older, single people experience, I sat in bed wondering what I'm doing with my life.

Five minutes elapsed. Begin the positive affirmations mantra.

With a sigh, I rose from my cozy bed to seize the day. AND what a day it turned out to be.

First, I made the decision to get another breed of dog to show. I decided on Whippets which are as different from an Australian Shepherd as you can get. I called the breeder of a male I was interested to let her know that I would buy him.
How could I resist this face?

Second, and most astounding, my daughter calls. I am going to be a grandma in October. Huzzah! I have waited all my life to attain this status and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. My heart near bursts as I feel the love growing exponentially. I want to share my glorious news with the world, but instead I call my best friend in the world. She celebrated grandmotherhood two years ago, while I tried not to be covetous. Her grandson is beautiful. I can see her winking and saying, "Tara needs to have a daughter now and then we can join our families!" Ah, the plottings of two women, no longer in the bloom of youth.

The cherry on the top of my day came when the phone rang and my sister's voice came across the line. She had flown to Houston for a job interview with Continental Airlines. They offered her the job. Hooting and hollering, we basked together in the glad tidings!

And so I conclude today's blog with.....

"My cup runneth over with joy"

The Coming Spring

2010-02-21T12:24:00.001-06:00

Desired I, to gaze upon
the coming spring,
the first green bud.
The door, wide open I did fling
witness what Mother Nature,
today dost bring.
Once again she did prove,
merciless mistress, to taunt and tease.
Mother Nature threw back her head,
shouted "I shall do as I please!"
and then she laughed, until she cried.
Through joyous mirth fell silvered drops
to disbelief and my dismay
this is what I heard her say,
"Snap! Diana, I've changed my mind.
I'll show you my perfect day!"
© Diana 2010

My world through the door.

Touched by Words

2010-02-19T15:43:00.000-06:00

I received the following email (story) this morning and with the author's permission, am posting it here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once upon a time a mommy and daddy were very sad because they had very little money. All of their money was being spent on necessities and private school for their young daughter. They thought they were doing the right thing. But, because the private school had no provision for child-care during the breaks (Easter, Summer, Christmas etc) they did not have the money to hire childcare. So, their young daughter had to stay with Grandmother during those times.

In order the help their young daughter overcome some of the lonliness of those times, and to have a companion because they also lived where there were few children for her to play with, they went in search of the perfect companion.

They thought this companion would come in the form of a four legged blue merle australian shepherd furfriend. They interviewed breeders finally finding Diana Farthing. Diana lived clear out in Romoland, CA at that time.

We drove for what seemed like days (an hour), reaching the site we were introduced to two beautiful, clean, fresh smelling blue merle Aussies. A little girl and a little boy. The little boy only had eyes for the play yard, not engaging with us at all. The little girl was sweet but we found that she was so soft that she would not look at us, even when I held her in my arms.

Reluctant to leave Diana's without considering all options since it was a long drive, we asked her if she had anything else. She was hesitant. She relented saying something like,'well you said you didn't want a red dog. You were very certain.' Still, what could it hurt. She warned us that this puppy had not been bathed to be seen. We were fine with that.

We waited on the lawn. She brought out this crazy red puppy with gold eyes. From across the lawn this little dynamo ran from Diana, across the yard, into my arms - putting her puppy paws on my shoulders and kissing all over my face. It was like she said, 'I've been waiting so long for you.' and 'What took you so long?" I looked at Diana and said 'sold'.
She rode on my lap all the way home without making a sound.
We gave her to our daughter, Cerin, on July 4th 1996.

RIP Aladdin's Red Red Wine (aka Jazmin, Jazzy, Jazicola, Old Bat. Batty). 8 minutes ago ·

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was my reply....

[tears rolling down cheeks] Your story and ones similiar are the reason that kept me raising puppies for all these years. I could not have wished for a better home for Jazmin. She lived a long life surrounded by the humans she loved. What more could a girl ask for?

I read a really cool saying about how each dog in our lives gives their heart to us and in return they take a piece of ours when they die. Their hope is that we will then have the heart of a dog and become all that is good in a dog.

So, although I know there is sorrow and you will miss Jazmin, you are a better human for having known her. May your dog's heart swell inside you and share the love of a dog with the world.

Big Comforting Hugs,
Diana ~ humbled by words and the dogs I love

The Bucket List

2010-02-18T18:12:00.000-06:00

If you haven't seen this movie, then you won't understand why this bit of celluloid made such an impact on my life.

Of course, I'm not lucky enough to have a disillusioned friend with oodles of money that wants me to accompany him/her whilst we jet about the planet, checking off the items inked out on "the list".

Brief definition of Bucket List: a list of goals a person would like to accomplish before he/she "kicks the bucket". For those of you that don't know American slang, to "kick the bucket" means to die.
Death is inevitable. Here's a line about death that amuses me...."No one gets out alive."

I realize my personal lack of funds is not justification enough to prevent me from creating my own list and prioritizing it.
I believe I've always had a list of "goals" kept in the cluttered office of my mind. Writing them down doesn't make "the list" engraved in stone, but does organize the gray matter.

What is really important to me? What have I not done yet? Does it need to be meaningful or just be done for pure joy? Should I put my list on this blog? Maybe it will be an ongoing blog as new and interesting ideas pop into my head.
One important thing about an individualized bucket list is there are no right or wrong answers.

I do like the idea of putting a check mark next to a completed event and saying "Check!"

With that in mind, I should put the more attainable goals at the top of "the list" and hold my pen at the ready.

For now, I'll just start jotting down what is easily extracted from the gray matter, in no particular order.

Let's begin....

1. See Tara in her wedding dress standing next to her new husband, Chris.
2. Attend Westminster to watch one of my dogs compete.
3. Finish my book "Ariana" and find a way to get it published.
4. Spend the night in a European castle.
5. Wriggle my toes in the sand somewhere along the Meditteranean coast.
6. Become a granny.

to be continued.....

Farmville Addictions

2010-02-18T02:37:00.000-06:00

Have a chuckle out of this writer....
Farmville Addiction plagues the Government

I'd really laugh if I didn't already know several people with the addiction. Then I tell myself behind every joke there's a moment of truth and that makes me tremble in fear.

At least if you have to have a game addiction...try my favorite, World of Warcraft!

Climate Change? Think I'll go get a pedicure..

2010-02-16T09:49:00.000-06:00

49 States share a winter wonderland
As the argument over global climate change, man-made or cyclical, rages on, here in the U.S. humans have seen a winter like most have not experienced in their lifetime. Snow in 49 of the 50 states last Friday! This winter it rained in Canada and snowed in Texas.

As a believer in living my life to see what's going to happen next, this has been a bumper crop of a year.

But, bottom line, I sure am ready for spring and in preparation of that eventuality (I hope), I think I'll go get a pedicure.

Re-evaluation

2010-02-15T22:38:00.000-06:00

After watching the video of the Australian Shepherd breed class, I shall amend my opinion of Poppy. She is NO hyena, but a wonderful example of an Aussie bitch. I still love her! I thought she looked terrific even bald! Valerie is awesome!

On the other hand, I was NOT impressed by the selections made in Herding Group tonight. BAH!!!

Dealing with Dog Show Disappointment

2010-02-15T15:13:00.000-06:00

Poppy showed today at "The Garden"...I think. I haven't heard from Valerie to get all the particulars.
what I do know...Poppy didn't win. Didn't even make the cut.

Smart Judges only choose their winners by what they have to evaluate on the day they judge. Selecting the best of the best on that day.

[please, a little cheese for the upcoming whine!]
I've come to the conclusion that showing girls at this level of competition is just too disappointing. Yes, it's true! I, the proverbial optimist, am disappointed. :-(

Poppy is hormonal right now, which not only caused her to shed out all her coat, thus giving her the look of a hyena, but also turned her into a Fruit Loop. [heavy sigh] So in all honesty, she didn't deserve to win today....and she didn't.

Mom always said, "If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen". Ok Mom, you are right, I have to get over my "Pity Party".

The truth....
The dogs that won today are beautiful and deserving. Under normal conditions, Poppy is just as awesome, but this is NOT her moment to shine.

Tonight I'm going to hang out with a friend and together we will watch the Westminster Group classes on TV. I will root for Rowan, a red tri Aussie, to win the group. I have seen this very nice male in the fur and he deserves my support. GO RED DAWG!!!

Note to self -the next dog I own that competes to this level is going to be a "knock your socks off" testosterone-toting huggy-bear Boy! [fingers-crossed]

Poppy @ Westminster AKC Show

2010-02-14T21:51:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow, Poppy, a red merle Australian Shepherd that I have the priviledge of owning with two of my friends, will appear at Madison Square Gardens to compete at one of the most prestigious dog shows in the U.S.....NAKED!
[Gasps from the crowds]
How is this possible, you ask? It's the curse of being a female aussie. Twice a year, give or take a month or two, the "girls" remove their coats in preparation for a whirlwind romance with the "man" of their dreams. Okay, maybe not their dreams, but the dreams of their owners.

Hmmmm.... I wonder if I would attract the man of my dreams if I suddenly lost all of my hair? Uh, on second thought, I'd worry about who I would attract like that.

Back to Poppy! In the most competent hands of Valerie, who holds the other end of the leash, Poppy will show her heart out and I WILL be proud. No structural flaw will be hidden under a profuse abundance of hair. What you see is what you get.

So, with a wish thrown up into the stars, I shall wait to hear the outcome and tell myself that this is only one person's opinion if they don't choose, Miss Poppy.