A Spring Fed Pond

Today's good things are my new Stella D'Oro daylilies.  These were a kind gift from a friend who was overgrown with them and thought of sharing them with me.  This spring, when she and her son were thinning their plot, she set aside several clumps for me.  I planted them in the front yard and they have made themselves quite at home.  They started blooming last week and they're lovely.

I love it when a person shares what they don't need or want and another person can enjoy it.  I remember the dandelions that Nancy brought me last year when she and Eric were weeding their lawn.  The bunnies loved that treat.  Things like that reassure me of the abundance of life.  Like a spring fed pond,

Pepper thinks the flowers are for eating.

we can all be endlessly full.  

Happiness is a Warm Puppy

Today's good thing is a warm puppy in your lap.  Well, sort of.

This morning, I let Sam and the new puppy, who has finally been named Pepper, out and got them taken care of.  I made my coffee and sat down for my morning meditation.   About two minutes into it, I heard a crunching noise from upstairs.  I ignored it.  It persisted.  I finally got up and investigated.

Pepper had gone into the upstairs bathroom, selected one of the girls' safety razors, and was chewing vigorously on the plastic handle.  In accordance with puppy protocol, I informed the razor in a low, menacing voice that it was a very bad razor and spanked it severely.  Then I found Pepper's toy squirrel and praised it in a high cheerful voice, telling it what a good toy it was and how it was such a good thing to chew and gave it to Pepper.  Pepper got the point.  She does not want to be associated with any item as bad as that naughty razor.

Sam meditating

Sam is a good at meditating.  When he hears the bell, he goes to his bed and lies down and, generally, doesn't stir for 20 minutes until the ending bell sounds.  Pepper, not so much.  After I got the razor away from her, she tapped around the house and played with her squirrel and investigated all the corners, and generally distracted me.  After a while, she jumped into my lap and began licking my face.  Again, not too good for meditation.  Finally, I was able to discourage her enough that she curled into a ball and went to sleep on my lap -- allowing me to finish a very disrupted meditation period.

Pepper meditating

Still, there is something sweet and life-giving about a warm puppy in your lap.  So sweet that I name it today's good thing.  Being able to roll with life's little distractions is a good skill to practice.  

The Ties That Bind ... And Bind

So much for my new resolution.  I already missed a day ....

Good things ... good things ... good things ....

Okay.  I've got one.  I had a pleasant call from my brother last night.  We actually communicated a bit as equals.  Most people won't understand that.  Most people think my brother is a great guy -- and he is.  He's a well-respected doctor who is very social, has a ton of friends, and is active in his church.

But to me, his big sister, he is aloof, snide, and superior.  When I was so horribly overweight, he made cruel jokes about it. Once, when my Mom's dachshund was trying to jump up into my lap, he noted dryly that she was looking for a lap where no lap could be found.  He would probably have said it was tough love and for my own good.  He tends to laugh quietly to himself whenever my sister or I make a statement of any kind, as if we're such children and one day we'll understand the world as he does.

So, when he called last night and had an actual conversation with me, it was nice.  He called to encourage me to take more control over Dad's financial affairs -- so he wasn't just calling to be friendly -- but he was pleasant and he thanked me for the work I do handling Mom's trust and taking care of Dad as much as Dad permits.  I shared my day with him and he listened and I complimented his wife.  I thanked him for spending Father's Day with Dad.  It was all very pleasant ... almost friendly.

So, it's a good thing.  

Good Things

I'm going to try to resurrect my posting of daily "good things."  It was a helpful exercise and helped to make me mindful of the little blessings in my life.

Today I'm thankful for those mornings -- most mornings -- when I wake up before everyone else and get a little private quiet time.  I brew my coffee and pour my milk and cereal and then sit down to meditate for twenty minutes.  Sometimes I sit and cry with Sam and for Sam, my dog who has liver cancer.  Sometimes I listen to the birds.  It's a peaceful, nourishing time and I'm very thankful for it.

Sam is relaxing too.

Young Visitor

This morning I found a fledgling robin on top of my shelves in the garage.  He was making quite a fuss and complaining loudly about my presence in the garage.  After a while, he managed to fly out the open door.  Crazy kid.  Get off my lawn!

Bad news is getting me down this morning.  My little shadow, Sam, seems to have liver disease.  His check-up two weeks ago showed his liver enzymes were in the 700s.  Normal is under 120 and last year his liver enzymes were 48.  The doctor took him off of one of his medicines and ordered a re-test in two weeks.  Yesterday, his liver enzymes had gone up to 1100.

The doctor says it could be chronic active hepatitis, a liver tumor, or gallbladder disease.  They'll need to run further tests to find out.  None of those is good news for a 13-year-old dog.

Still, he's acting fine -- to the doctor's surprise -- and he doesn't seem to be suffering at all.  He should be throwing up, refusing to eat, and lethargic.  We seem to have caught it early and maybe something can be done to help him.  I'm trying to be hopeful.  :)  See, he doesn't look sick.  I just took these pictures a few minutes ago.

Sam investigating the back yard.

Sam is ready to come inside.

Sam is vigilant for squirrels.

Maryland Sheep & Wool 2013

I haven't been into blogging very much recently, but I did want to note that my friend Lynne and I had a great little holiday going to the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival last weekend.

We drove up on Thursday and poked around Baltimore on Friday.  We saw Edgar Allan Poe's grave (Jeff claims kinship with Poe) and ate Maryland's Best Crab Cakes.

Edgar Allan Poe's Grave

Little gifts left at the gravesite -- two airline ticket receipts, one from Alaska and one from Arizona

The place for excellent crab cakes

We took a water taxi to Fells Point and looked around there for a while.  There was a museum that told about the area's history as a deep water port.

And I had a Guiness at an Irish pub there.

After a little shopping, we called it a night and drove back to Columbia where we were staying.

We had beautiful weather for the festival and, even though I had been twice before, both Lynne and I were overwhelmed by the magnitude of the event.  It was total sensory overload!  Here's some of it:

 We had a glorious two days of shopping and ogling and laughing and eating and being in the company of people who understand our obsession with wool.   In two days, I'm still not sure we saw it all.  I know I missed some of the handiwork displays.

On the way home, we stopped in Milton, WV to see the Blenko factory and watch the artisans blow glass.

 As we left the Blenko Visitors Centre, we saw these adorable Muscovy duck chicks and their mom.

 Thanks, Lynne, for a wonderful trip.  I had a great time and brought back another layer of stash for my basement.  :)

Happy Birthday, Mom

Yesterday was Mom's birthday and Kate had the thoughtful idea that we should take flowers to her grave in tribute.  We took carnations, because they're her favorite, and I had the florist make them blue,  because that's her favorite color.  The whole affair was messed up due to other factors, but, still, it was a nice idea and I'm glad we did it.

I was surprised that the florist simply took a can of blue spray paint and literally spray painted the white carnations blue.  I had no idea that was how it was done.  Luckily, the paint smell wore off and the carnation smell reasserted itself before we got there.  Sort of artificial ... but I wanted blue.  Mom was the queen of spray painting things gold -- so I guess it's fitting.  On Sundays sometimes we would take a drive and she would stop by the roadside and gather dried pods and thistles that she would take home and paint gold and put into wonderful dried arrangements.  We called it her "gold period," like Picasso's "blue period."

I'm not really one for visiting cemeteries.  It's my belief that the person doesn't linger around a graveyard but goes on to a different type of being.  If the people we love are still in communication with us, they are probably more in touch with us in our everyday lives -- where they were a part -- than in a place as foreign as a cemetery.  And it bothers me a little to remember that the body we touched and loved -- empty as it is --  is under the ground succumbing to natural and necessary processes.  

So, I'm not a big cemetery visitor.  There's nothing there to draw me.

I have, however, developed a theory about the communion of saints.  Mom always said that she thought dead people were unaware of the living.  Her reasoning was that heaven should be perfect bliss and that the people in heaven couldn't be happy if they knew their loved ones left behind were suffering or in pain.

I, on the other hand, believe that it's possible to be at peace and still be aware of the suffering of others.  The book "The Lovely Bones" makes sense to me and it seems reasonable that those who die maintain an connection to the living through love as long as their loved ones remain behind.  As time goes on, that connection would naturally become more tenuous as the next generation ages and dies and eventually all the people you knew and loved would be with you and you would no longer need or want a connection to the living.

Of course, this is all just theory, but it makes sense to me.  I guess someday we'll all know.