Facing my Fears

Well folks, I've done the unthinkable! Last Thursday I went INTO the Bee yard with Dan the Bee guy. He was stepping up for Jerry, who has not had time for the bees since he's working full time. And so, with Dan's tutelage I faced my fears, donned the bee suit and went in. I was dressed in Jerry's bee outfit (which by the way does not win any awards for fashion) and felt confident that NOTHING could penetrate it. Truthfully, the bee suit is made up of camo pants (quite thick) and a white hooded number along with the hat, veil and leather gloves. I did think at one point that if this is something I'm going to make a habit of, we've got to work on the fashion aspect of it. But anyway, once I was suited up with all of it (including the gloves which were quite big) and with Dan's help tying off the veil, I stepped through the now opened electric fence, again thanking Dan for his expertise. There is lots to learn if I am ever going to take this on myself, without assistance. Getting INTO the yard is the first thing. I wouldn't know how to declassify the electric fence, and never felt the need to pay attention, even though Jerry tried to explain it every step of the way. "Go into the Bee Yard? NEVER!" I thought. Bees being my nemesis (what is plural for nemesis? Nemesises?) But with the bee yard languishing and all that honey going to well, the bees, I figured I better get with the program. And so Dan agreed to help me out and show me the ropes so to speak. Inside the bee yard, the drone of the bees got quite loud, surprisingly. I didn't think that bees could make that much noise. Having run from the drone of one single bee, I never gave the multitudes a chance to make any noise, and noise they make. It is truly a sound unlike any other I've ever heard. Dad loaded the smoker and gave that to me, to handle while he uncovered the top box. There are technical names for all of this but forgive me, I was terrified and not really paying attention to the small details. Mostly, I was looking for my point of egress in the event of a swarm. Dan was pleased to see that our hive was very active with apparently docile bees. A little smoke will do that. To us all. But I digress. The bees came out of the hive, interested in this intruder, but not really too concerned. As I said, I was smoking the hive to make them more concerned about the smoke than the intruder, as is the purpose of the smoker. Dan had to warn me a few times that we were interested in "gently" smoking the hive, not frying the bees, gently being the key word. But as I was learning, the smoke was effective and became my "go to" tool whenever fear got the best of me. This was a very foreign place for me, standing still while bees swarmed about me. Normally, you would be seeing my dust, but I was determined to do this. I stood still and let them check me out, praying that every point of closure was indeed, closed. I don't know how I would have reacted if a bee had gotten INSIDE the bees suit, as they have been known to do on occasion. I like to think I would have professionally ignored it, as these are the makers of the honey, the holy grail. But something tells me I would have squashed it pretty readily. I guess we won't know until it happens. I was at first breathing a little heavily, with the smell of fear in every breath, but I eventually got a little calmer and began to really watch what Dan was doing. The inside of an active beehive is an unbelievable sight. You cannot be prepared by watching it on the TV screen, as I have done many times, because the drone is of stacked beehives, not only the one you're peering into. There are virtually thousands of bees, working at their jobs. Most are uninterested in the large persons standing over their hive, and continue on their way. You can view all types of bees at work. Drones and workers are readily visible throughout their metamorphosos. We were searching for the Queen, who I would not have recognized without some more instruction, but we looked unsuccessfully throughout the entire hive. We were cleaning up the hive for splitting, moving some of the trays of honeycomb into a new box (again, I will know these names eventually) for splitting into a new hive. So taking a full beehive of bees and moving half into a new hive, hopefully bringing the Queen over with them, was our job. Somehow, the old hive will produce a new queen and continue their labors. That is how it works. I felt quite productive by the end, scraping the sides of old honeycomb and making room for the new bees. It seemed at this point in time that our bees are doing beautifully without our help. That makes me happy. It means we have provided our bees with a good environment to do what they do naturally, produce honey. I hope to have a nice harvest at the end of the summer, with enough for us, and enough to sustain our bees through the winter. See how I have changed my terms in to "Us" instead of "Me" and "Them". It happens quite naturally, and although I don't know what I would do without a bee suit, as Dan seems perfectly happy without (he's a little nuts that Dan) I was not as fearful coming out as I was going in. Mission Accomplished! As we speak I am observing a Turkey walking around our campfire and enjoying the seed that I have planted around the pond. I am a lover of nature, and this just beats all. We've never seen a turkey this close on our property. We assumed the scent of three dogs was enough to keep them away-apparently not! It has been a great week. Next week, we're back into the bee yard to make sure our changes have been well received. I hope so. I kinda like those bees. Who knew? (Pictures of these adventures will follow-as soon as Allison wakes up and shows me how to upload the new camera!)

Blogging. right. I forgot

Let me say this about aging. My memory is taking quite a beating. Whether it is age related, medication related, or early alzheimers, I'm not sure. But I actually have a problem remembering things that should come quite easily to me, and remembering things (like the first day of kindergarden) that should be well outside of my memory. As a result, blogging was one of those things that got thrown under the bus. I changed my e-mail from Rufflestuff@aol.com to CarogaQueenBee@aol.com. due to a hacker. Now I hope those "HeyTryViagra!" e-mails to my friends, family (and clergy-how fun) will stop. Please note if you're trying to reach me with no response. Anyway, because I haven't been blogging, I have a multitude of blogging topics that I have yet to delve into. Fist and foremost is PROM! Johnstown H.S. Prom was last weekend and I was lucky enough to have a hand in my beautiful daughter's choices and preparation. This is an honor that I do not take lightly! Prom girls are a difficult bunch to please, and I am happy to report that I did the job with pride, honor and a bit of trepidation. No one wants to be responsible for a prom disaster, least of all a Mother who is already treading on thin ice just by virtue of her existence. I came out on the other side happy and with my self-esteem intact. We were a team to be recognized that Allison and I! She provided me with the hair and instruction tutorials and I paid attention and got it right! The makeup was my own creation, because no one knows more about makeup and its bonuses than an aging prom-queen herself. And so, off she went happy with her hair and makeup, looking beautiful and way more worthy of the title "Most Beautiful Girl in the World" than she realises. Thank you Allison, I loved every minute and I'm already planning for next year. That being said, I realised that the mystery of shopping for women's clothes is much more different than picking up your tux in which they just took your measurement, sent you home. Oh no my friend, this is big business. Prom dresses can run up to $500 for the "budget conscious" and even more if you are out of your mind, and many girls (and Mother's with checkbooks) are out of their minds. This Mother was as practical as would be allowed, both by budget and the knowledge that this is one of the more important dresses in a girl's life, notwithstanding her bridal gown. They are in close competition. I will give you a brief tutorial on women's sizing and how women really perceive it: Size 0 to 4: These are not real sizes. They can never be found in a store, other than the big tag that hangs on the rack. This rack tag exists just to mess with your head. No one could possibly fit into these sizes. It's just not humanly possible. Size 5/6: This is the smallest of the real sizes. I was a size six for an hour and a half back in 1965 when I was in the second grade. I have been trying to re-achieve that size ever since, to no avail. It causes me to feel bad about myself. That's what they want. Women's sizes are doubled up (5/6, 7/8) because even the companies that manufacture the stuff can't decide what size it should REALLY be. So, they go with the generalization. Size 7/8: We're getting into the area of "Possible". Real girls can fit into these sizes, although they are girls who stopped eating. They may have an occasional salad or yogurt, but essentially, they are not eating anything worth eating. There is not a macaroni and cheese to be found on the menus of these 7/8 champions. I bow to them, they are incredibly well-disciplined and beautiful. Size 9/10: This is the cusp of the dark side. If you are a 9/10, you are dabbling in real food and maybe even dessert. And yet, against all odds, you are "carrying your weight" beautifully. No one calls a 9/10 "tiny", they say you carry your weight, implying that they are the same size, but have the misfortune of being "big boned, or short", none of which is in their control. It is a ridiculous comparison and should be erased from our vernacular, but these are sizes, not wishes. I am merely stating what is fact, that women are harder on each other than anyone else will ever be, except of course, herself. Size 11/12: You are now in the dark side. This is not a good size to be. You will feel bad about yourself the minute you realize that this is your true size. You will suck yourself into a size 9/10 to the point where it cuts off your circulation, as long as you can stay out off an 11/12. Better stores like Talbots and LL Bean simply re-do their clothes so that most women who are willing to spend on their clothes will find themselves in a size 6. It's not really a size 6, but just the fact that a tag will say 6 is enough of an incentive to spend more on the better brands. The more expensive the clothes, the smaller the sizes. It's a fact. Size 13/14: You are now entering the area of elastic waistbands and no style whatsoever. Polyester is a big design element in the 13/14 sizes and above. Polyester and cheesy florals. I don't know why this is, but sizing in these areas seems to be leaning towards nursing gear. Everyone looks like a nurse when you are size 13/14. If you're going to work as a nurse, that is fine. But when I'm dressing for weddings and coctail parties, scrubs is not my first thought. Maybe it's me. Size 15/16: This is the size where you march out the door and join weight watchers, where you pay for the privilege of getting on THEIR scale and being humiliated. Losing ten pounds seems to be the answer for all life's ills, and you are paying for that motivation and deprivation. You will PAY TO EAT LESS AND BE PUBLICALLY HUMILIATED. I have never understood this route, and yet a multi-billion dollar business is succeeding all on the backs of women who are feeling bad about themselves. I can do that with just a 7.99 mirror, but I digress. Size 18: This is never a 17/18. Just an 18. This is because they want to cut right to your heart. There is no shortening anything to 17, just go right to the worst number in the wardrobe field. This is the number that will cause you acute pain and possibly even tears in the dressing room. I have been there, and it does produce tears. This is not a goal number for anyone. This is the number where friends stop saying "you look fine" and just remain silent when you begin your self-bashing. No one, including Pollyanna (who was a size six-of course she was cheerful) can put a good spin on this. It is no-man's land. So, there you go, better educated for clothes shopping with women, which if you listen to your heart you will know that it is not a good idea for the faint of heart. There is not a women in the world who will remain rational when faced with a size they are not comfortable with. Be advised, there are exceptions to every rule, but it is a fact that women are harder on themselves than they need to be, and should be told from the time they are five years old that WHATEVER size they are is the right size. We need to start spending more time on IQ numbers than rack-size numbers. Women are beautiful, no matter what their size. I've seen lots of girls at this past prom weekend, and they seem poised and fun and wonderful at every turn. I was blessed with a few of my own, and I hope that humor and reality is something they have learned about their sizes. No size is the right size, obviously, and so I am hopefully going to take some of my own advice and lay off the self-criticism. But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy shopping at Talbots or LL Bean.

Urgh. Just urgh.

After writing a very clever blog this morning, and really giving it a determined and creative effort, I hit some button that wiped the entire thing from my screen, leaving me with the letters "ppe". If you need me, I will be at home today, drinking large quantities of herbal tea and sobbing into my delicately embroidered pillow. I will try again at another time, but not today. Along with the rain and the cold temperature outside, it is just too much.

A kinder, gentler Daphne

Due to Daphne's health issues, our trip to Long Island this past weekend included our little friend. She is diabetic, and as such, she is a tough sell in the dogsitter community. Not everyone is interested in giving her the required two shots per day. My sister-in-law Joanne was gracious enough to include Daphne in our invitation, and so, off we went at 4:30 AM on Saturday morning. My dental appointment was at 9:00 AM, and we were perfectly on time. It's a quiet world at 4:30 AM, and we made good time. Gassing up and loading up on travel accoutrements takes some time. I have become a tea drinker in the past year, and if I have the choice, tea it is. The problem with being gluton-free is that there are not alot of choices in travel-fare. Most often I pick Rice-Krispie treats. Not a great choice for a diabetic, but I'm trying to balance a number of health issues and having SOMETHING to eat in the car for a four hour trip is my goal. Of course, I also had packed some gluton-free corn bread that I had baked, but having eaten this same corn bread for a full day I was growing tired of it. Variety, being the spice of life, is not finding a balance in my world. So, I did the rice krispy treat, and I was satisfied. Sometimes Jerry will get an egg sandwich with "meat", but the only part of THAT that I covet is his bread. I can't imagine eating a "meat" that is only identifiable by that name. If you can't tell me what the name of the meat you are serving, I don't think I need to sample it. But my point was this, sometimes in the car the odor of said "Meat" becomes a little overpowering and I have a sensitive stomach (among other things) so I am just concentrating on breathing IN and OUT. Trying not to hurl requires alot of concentration. Then Jerry will say "what's wrong?" and I will have to stop my concentrated breathing to answer "nothing, nothing!" It's a real challenge. But, I was talking about Daphne wasn't I? She was placed on my lap for the trip down the mountain, because she was fully awake and quite honestly, probably a little stunned that she had picked the short straw and was travelling with us, while the other two dogs stayed at home. A one-dog trip amounts to a lottery win in their world. Spoiled! When we made our stop at Stewart's, she was placed in the back seat, and after a few turns, she found her comfortable spot on my coat, and proceeded to sleep for the rest of the trip. She's a good traveller. She was also quite comfortable on a seat that she usually has to share with Allison. Did I say spoiled? We made our trip down and arrived at Dr. Lee's at 8:50 AM, with enough time to catch up and then set to work. It's always good to see the folks that we miss, and Dr. Lee and his staff are among them. Daphne was given a quick introduction and whisked out, lest OSHA get wind of a visiting dog in the dental office. Once we arrived at Clint and Joanne's Daphne was happy to meet up with her cousin TEDDY, a malty-poo who is quite friendly and happy to greet ANYONE! I don't think I've ever heard Teddy with a bark that says anything other than COME IN! So off they went to scamper all over the fenced in yard (new to Daphne's world) without a human in attendance. This was a big deal. Here we are always shadowing our dogs when they are outside. No such thing as a fence, just eagle eyes. So for Daphne it was a new experience. Running across the pool cover was also a new activity, demonstrated ably by Teddy, who lounged in the center getting soaked. Daphne was a little more reticent, just dipping her feet. The rest of the day went along like that, with bits of dog activity throughout. The the real love-fest was on Sunday, when two other canine cousins arrived for the Easter celebration. Cody who was from Connecticut, a pug terrier mix, and Blue who is really Daphne's canine-nephew, but in the dog world we don't quibble about relationships, we just sniff! This roving pack of small dogs (the largest being 16 lbs) was all over the house, happily traveling together and checking out the whole house. Lots of scrambling and tail wagging ensued, but never a growl! They all got along beautifully! We managed to get on the road at 6 PM, and Daphne slept the whole way home. That's a four-hour trip for those who haven't been paying attention. When we got home, at 11 PM (gotta love that Easter traffic!) Daphne entered the house like a visiting dignitary. Again, the tails were wagging and everyone was glad to see us. We often wonder what is going through the dogs minds, and Daphne's disappearance must have caused a few questions among the boys we left behind. But she was home, and all was well. It was a great weekend all in all, and our family visits were even better than Daphne's. Having an eighty degree day on Long Island was like a gift. It brought the onset of spring here as well. Today, we'll have another day where we break 70, and for us, that is extraordinary! The new Daphne has been much sweeter since we arrived home, I guess she knows she was given a gift-a private weekend with Mom and Dad. It kind of takes the sting out of giving those shots! Kinda.

Winter Redux

I am saying a hopeful "welcome spring" although the thermometer this morning said 28 degrees. It does burn off quickly and makes way for a warmer afternoon, but still, at the end of April I would like to report that spring things are moving along. The crocus' that I saw while laying in the pond with Jake have not made any more progress since I was there. The only growth I have seen are the weeds in the pond, and they are growing thicker each day. Why is that? Why is it that the weeds seem to be growing while none of the beauty flowers are getting any larger? Isn't that always the case? In the happy department, what I am seeing more of are birds! Birds of all feathers are flocking to our sanctuary and enjoying the new feeders are suet containers we hung last week. The finches are flitting here and there, and making their presence know all over the fields. The old saying "birds of a feather flock together" is never more obvious than with finches! Yes they do! It is remarkable to me how an abrupt turn left or right is made by birds in a flock on a split second of time! Left! And left they all turn, continuing their urgent flight to whichever tree or branch they decided on. It is a tightly choreographed flight that is remarkable in its abilities. If you asked me which of God's creatures had the precision of a marching band, I would not have said birds. And yet, they are the only ones that move with that kind of forethought and arranged movement. I don't tire of their show out my back window. No matter how bad the weather appears each day, I never tire of the view I am blessed to own. The wind was howling yesterday, strong enough to send a heavy metal deck chair across the yard. Strong enough to force Bailey to find safety behind the wood stove in the kitchen. If we remember back to the first Days of March, how beautiful and warm and lovely they were, I am also reminded of the old saying "March, in like a lamb, out like a lion." I think maybe that here in the northeast that saying can be extended into April. Perhaps the writer lived south of here? Because spring here in the Northeast saves itself until the first part of May. I don't think we'll see the warmth of spring until the beginning of May. I am learning the ways of upstate NY. We are more closely related to Canada than to Long Island when it comes to weather patterns. And the weather pattern here means that the winter doesn't end until May. So I continue to watch the birds and keep myself close to the pellet stove for warmth. Lounging on the back deck will not happen until the warmth of the sun reaches our chairs. I wish all of you a Happy Passover and a Blessed Easter. Wherever you are, I hope you find the sun!

No Thank You

Why do we have such a hard time saying NO? I think for people like me, who are inherently polite, saying NO amounts to a rejection that we are unable to vocalize. Of course I don't want what they're selling, otherwise I would have taken it upon myself to purchase it from a reliable, less expensive source. And yet, I still find myself unable to say those words to a stranger on the telephone - No Thank You. I don't take offense when it is told to me, at least if it is said politely, but telling the unknown voice at the other end that I am not interested in their product is one ofis the most difficult things I'm ever asked to do. And I'm asked to say it alot. We seem to get alot of telemarketer calls in the morning hours when Jerry is away from home. When I tell the party that he is not available, they sometimes will move right to me. Other times, like when the NRA calls, they only want Jerry, and will call 10 or 15 times until they get him. That happens to be a rejection I don't have much problem with. Oooops, political commentary, sorry. I try to stay away from that. Anyway, the marketing calls which we're usually subjected to are from people for products that we don't really want. You don't see alot of telemarketing for UGGS, or Canoes. These products tend to sell themselves, and people looking to purchase them do the footwork themselves, finding out where there desired product is and getting it/them. So I guess telemarketing is a bit indicative of whether your product is selling well, or not. If you are in the place where you have to hire a telemarketer in order to move your inventory, start looking for a different career path. I don't think the product is taking off in the manner which they desired. I hesitate to use the word failure, but that's the road it's taking. I don't have much faith in the telemarketing system. In fact, I believe any sales made through telemarketing methods should be immediately voided, since they couldn't possibly have been made through acceptable methods. As a former telemarketer myself, I can tell you that you will not find a less invested employee than a telemarketer. Working for publisher's clearinghouse, as many homeworkers in Port Washington, Long Island were, my only interest was in getting through my hours and picking up my paycheck. Calling to try and re-up subscriptions for all the magazines that Publisher's carried was not an interesting job, much less inspiring. I was an uncomfortable telemarketer and it showed in my sales. I tended to agree with those customers who "went off" on telemarketers, and now that I am on the other end, I find it very difficult to turn down a telemarketer. I feel sorry for them. I know that this is not the job they would have picked, it is the job which they are stuck in. And so, saying No Thank You to that poor bastard on the other end of the line would be the final rejection that I don't want to have to say. And so, sometimes hanging up without any comment is the best I can do. I know that if we get into dialogue, I will become a mushy mess who just purchased something I don't really want. Subscription renewals, insurance packages and other such unsaleable items are what they're selling. Now, with telephone numbers identifying themselves on the television screen, at least we have a heads up. I can compose my most staunch mindset before I pick up the phone. Then, when I hear the first words of the sales pitch, I can simply hang up. No Thank You only leads them to another page in their script and we can get into dialogue that goes on for hours. No thank you.

Aaaah. Snow. How delightful.

Not. Although I have chosen to take the road marked high (what better road to take?) I'm having a tough time with this. I don't mind blustery big flakes that don't seem to matter, but waking up to a healthy dusting of white this morning was just a bit more than my cheerful nature could take. We're up one dog-to four, and I felt like kicking every one of them. Not that kicking dogs is ever an option. Ever. But that doesn't mean you don't feel like it sometimes. Thankfully, none of the people were home. Allison had blazed a bright and cheerful way out the door this morning (good bye to THAT!) and Jerry was working an early shift today. So I was managing dog chores in the a.m. Following Jake on his morning constitutional, I could see how much he appreciated my shadowy presence written all over his face. He has no idea that I would rather be inside by the pellet stove enjoying my first cup of tea. He's not as interested in reading my face as I am in reading his. Jerry is anticipating working the early shift on Wednesdays until October, and this allows him to take part in the Wednesday night riding group at the stable. Wednesdays have been the shining spot in my week for awhile, and now adding Jerry to our group makes it perfect. All in all, things here at Blue Line Farm are settling in. Spring never comes easy here, and each breakthrough is celebrated by anyone who witnesses it. Yesterday I spoke to a gentlemen who stated that seeing the robins through the snow was his favorite thing. Mine? Seeing the robins by the side of the birdbath, swimming in 90 degree weather. We've a ways to go before that takes hold, but I did see some crocus-type blooms on the side of the pond last Sunday, when I was laying in the water with Jake. It wasn't first and foremost in my mind at that moment, but it has come back to me now that I have the time to ponder it all. Our riding instructor Ron keeps telling us that as soon as the weather breaks we can ride outside. Week after week we are still in the arena, riding around. I am not complaining at all. Inside the arena you can smell the earth and other barn smells, and to my mind, it all smells like spring. I'm ready. Have been for quite some time. Now that I am more able to see the garden area, I can assess what we will need to get started this year. We're going to need a roto-tiller. I can't take it on myself. I am thinking of planting tomatoes in two locations-so as to avoid the blight again. I know that last year was blight-free-but like all gardeners-once burned twice shy. I'm starting to sound like an old soul aren't I? What's up with that?

Mixed Emotions

That's how you describe snow falling on the newly revealed green grass. Calling it grass is a bit of a stretch, but it is somewhat green compared to the snow. But now some big white flakes are falling from the sky. What's that about? That's what I'm feeling about the weather-thrilled that we're seeing some green, and annoyed that more snow is falling. My mixed emotions at home are this-I'm thrilled that Jake is feeling better and that his foray into the pond left no long-term effects, but so aware that we are coming to the end. He is not safe enough anymore to be left alone, but we're still aware that he is enjoying his life and adding so much to ours. When and where do you draw the line? We said that it would be when he lets us know, but will he let us know? Is falling into the pond and being unable to get out a sign? I don't want Jake to feel one minute of pain, not one second. And yet, I know the humiliation he feels when these things happen is terrible, and I feel for him. Is that the sign? Our hearts break everytime he fails at something. The stairs, lying down, walking around the property. He will cover himself with bluff sometimes. "RUFF, RUFF" that deep and bellowous bark that he has. But this is a dog who needs assistance coming from the bedroom, where his bed is, to the living room, because the floors are waxed to a shine. His feet have come out from under him, and his embarassment is palpable. We cry for him alot these days. And yet, when he comes and puts his head in your lap, groaning with the pleasure of having his ears rubbed, it is hard not to feel that his life is good and he is happy. Because the happiness he gives is tremendous. Is it that "old blue eyes" is getting old, and that is a sign of our aging? I think it is bigger than that. We are more than a reflection of each other. We are friends. I know that there is nothing that Jake wouldn't do for us, if he could. I don't feel that connection with the other dogs. I love them, they love us, but with Jake it has always been different. He seems to want to cover our backs, so to speak. Is that possible with a dog? I think so. He is always waiting for our signal, looking for a sign, and turns inside out with happiness when he knows he has pleased us. Our tenderness is equal. We want what is best for him, and yet we want him to be happy. The leash is an indignity that he is not happy with. He has been roaming our property for a number of years now. I have taken to shadowing him on his walks. He knows I'm behind him, and has even tried to lose me on occasion, but I am diligent. My fear for him is that he will encounter something that he cannot handle, and we won't know where he is to help him. And so, I make sure I'm with him, whether he likes it or not (regardless of my attire too-pajamas,boots and a raincoat) Is this where the end begins? Will he become less inclined to enjoy his walks because I'm with him? Will he begin to miss those early morning exploration walks through the brush, sniffing all the smells there are to find. I would like to think that he and I could enjoy a companionable walke with each other, but my ability to climb up steep hills and over ditches is greatly limited. I'm not the best walking partner you could hope for if you like to go climbing. For now, we'll just muddle along. But as I said-mixed emotions.

and how was YOUR weekend?

We did fine. Had a lovely weekend right up until Sunday afternoon when Jake, the 120 pound lab/great dane mix when out for a walk and fell in the pond. Now, we don't let our dogs "roam" in the true sense of the word. But with nine acres we do give them a larger sense of freedom than they are used to. When we lived on Long Island, it was leashes all the time. That was what they were used to. Since we've lived here full time, they have gradually been given a little more rope to go out, do their business, explore a little, and come back. We are aware of their proximity all the time, and they are with us in the house most of the time, except for Bailey, who lays in the sun on the porch. He is a dog who is used to roaming within a close promixity and coming back quicky. When Jake hadn't come right back (ten minutes or so?) Allison went out to see where he was. Looking left from the porch she saw Jake, laying by the side of the pond, with his hind quarters in the pond. He was stuck. Screaming to me, she and I ran outside to the far side of the pond where Jake was laying. Jake's arthritis is so bad that on occasion his back legs will give out, and he has to be lifted up. On solid ground, this is a task that only Jerry can really do. He's just too heavy. With half his body in freezing cold water, it was near impossible for Allison and I. But we tried. Pushing and pulling it took us about five minutes to get Jake up the side a little, but he was still dragging into the pond. He was no help at all. At that point, Allison called Jerry who was in town and told him he had to come and help us. Allison got a quilt and a towel from inside the house, and I had laid Jake alongside my legs and body so I could give him a little warmth. He was in what looked like shock. Allie and I were sobbing and crying as we pushed and pulled and tried to get him fully out of the water. The pond has a bottom of mud and muck, and trying to get a good footing is impossible. Everytime I stepped onto the bottom at the shoreline, I would sink further in. He was just laying there and looking at me with his sad blue eyes, which were glazed over like I had never seen before. We finally both grabbed under his front legs, at the elbow, and we were able to get him fully out of the water. We all laid and sat at the shoreline of the pond, catching our breath, talking to Jake and each other, and waiting for Jerry. All the while this had been going on, a good twenty minutes, Bailey had been circling around us at a distance. Now, Bailey and Jake go outside together sometimes, and that has always proven to be a bad idea. Bailey is in his prime. He can jump and hop over the snowbanks as though he is a nymph, and Jake tries to follow. We have to carry Jake and assist him up the front porch stairs, but sometimes when you look off into the distance you can see Jake trying to follow Bailey up the mountain. It's never been a good plan. Now I'm not blaming Bailey for Jake falling into the pond. I didn't see it happen and I don't like to place blame. But as far as passing the Lassie test, Bailey had failed miserably. Timmy fell in the well, and Bailey went right along on his merry way. He didn't try and alert us, he wasn't any help, and he was now laying in the sun on the porch as though nothing had happened. I had thought he would be a better emergency type dog. Wrong. Jerry came home, he lifted Jake up and set him on his feet squarely, and with a couple of shakes and wobbles, Jake went across the driveway and continued to "Mark his territory" if you know what I mean. He didn't appear any worse for wear, and he came inside with us when we went in. We had a lovely dinner together and spent what was, all in all, a beautiful Sunday. Except for the pond incident. Except for that.

Damn!

Although happiness for a lottery winner is what I always feel, especially when they turn out to be hard working "regular" guys like you and I, the last group of winners, commonly known as "The Lucky Seven" have completely destroyed any hope I have of winning any type of lottery. Why you ask? Because one of those lucky seven is from Johnstown, New York. Damn! My home town. My disappointment stems from the fact that the odds of winning the lottery are already quite large, like one in 100 million. What are the odds of two winners from the same home town winning 19 million dollars? That is the amount that each of the lucky seven brought home from their win of the 319 million dollar New York State Lottery. And so, as I said, "Damn". Congratulations Mr. Leon Peck of Whitemore Ave., Johnstown, New York. You've effectively ruined any chance that I might have of winning the big one. the one that we all hope of winning someday. We talk often about what we would do with a win that large, and even of a smaller win, say one million. Nowadays, one million is no big deal. I remember growing up and driving by the home of Perry Como, in Sands Point, the village next to Port Washington, where I grew up. I remember vividly my father telling us that the home cost "over $100,000.00". Nowadays in Sands Point, that might be your tax obligation. Not a home. So a win of one million, well, let's just say it won't be sneezed at, but it has a different thrill level than 19 million, which was Mr. Peck's take home after sharing the $319 million seven ways, and agreeing to take the payout rather than the long-term payout. I would do that too. This way you can share more, and in the event you kick the bucket before the full amount is paid out, at least your wishes have been taken care of. Because sharing is the first thing we think of. Family, organizations, charities. If I won 19 million, I'd be sharing it alot. AFTER, of course, making sure that we were set up nicely. Not extravagantly, but nicely. I would add a southern location, for sure. Someplace closer to our older kids. I would keep this home, because we love it and love living here. It has healed me in more ways than I can count. But a place south, maybe a condo with little maintenance, so Jerry can put away the plow and let someone else handle it. We would finish up the cottage so that we can accomodate all the family all the time. Other than that it would be sharing. And now, Mr. Peck has taken those dreams and effectively removed them. I will still buy the ticket, of course, but without the same sense of excitement and possibility that the winner will be me. So as I said, Damn Mr. Peck, Damn!

Updates From Caroga Lake!

Hello Gang, Its Been a while since you have seen anything from me here on this blog , so here are some updates from Caroga Lake. This photo is from Feb.2010, was looking for some photos to post for this blog, came across this one I had taken of Jen and said " why not?" Best photo I have seen so far.

Not sure where to start so I will Just jump in some place and most likely jump around.

We are just starting to see some Spring here, then it snows again. This morning,April 2nd we had white out snow storm and now the sun is out and it looks like we are going to get a lot of sun and loose some of the ground snow. ( Jumping) As you know we have a new Grandson eight months ago, Mike Jr., he is growing fast, we miss not seeing him everyday. We can't wait to have him up here running around. Rumor has it that he is starting to talk and his 1st words are Pop-Pop Jerry and then MoM-Mom Jen........I'm Just saying , That's what I heard!!!

Jen and Allie have been on the college hunt for last few winter months as that time is getting near for Allie, she is a junior here in Johnstown HS. Reports are that Allie is doing very well in school and she is going to go far in what ever she decides that she wants to do.

Walter is all over with his job on the Tug Boat.... last I heard he was down south with the boat and enjoying a break from the weather of NY Harbor, On the other hand Jackie was home keeping all warm and ready for Walters return. Brian, one of these days is going to get out of the Police Academy and on the Prowl out in Suffolk, Ash would like to have him around more. Jackie,Jessie , Mike & Nicole all seem to be thriving.

Jake ( our oldest dog) has seemed to have made it through the winter, Bad hips. Been giving him doggie aspirin and Glucosamine Sulfate which has seemed to help. Daphne is getting 2 shots a day of Insulin because she is Diabetic , seems better and has lost weight.

Bailey is having the time of his life, running and jumping and guarding the front porch and running and.........

Jen's been Wall Papering and bathroom painting over the winter. Jen's been horse back riding in the evenings, learning proper care and grooming of the horses. I stopped by the horse farm last week to watch Jen & her horse, Smokey ride around but was too early and only got to see grooming as that seems is a large part of this new horse thing...reports are that they are going to learn some new grooming stuff next week......I'll let her fill you in on that one.

Jen seems to love it and reports are that soon she will be out on a trail ride, maybe up in these parts.

Maple Syrup sap is running hard and Dave down the road is boiling as fast as he can, taking in 100 gals a day, boiling 80 gals a day.... Fred needs to come up with a means to boil faster, maybe a pressure cooker would work!

We have also been tinkering around the house and cabin down by the lake. Lake house before the snow came hard here we got one of the 3 bedrooms almost finished, paneling , Sheetrock and insulation. Trim will be next then we move on to the other rooms and a septic holding tank after the weather breaks a little more. Jen's been guiding the gravel guys when ever we get a break in the weather and she has seemed to have solved the MUD problem for now, so far six dump trucks of gravel have been spread as a base in front of the house.

I have been working in Albany 5 days a week doing security work and burning $500-$600 a month in Gasoline.....Whats up with That? Gas has been going through the roof, I'm afraid to pass a gas station and not fill up as in a blink of an eye the price jumps up.

I miss being home with my Bride everyday.

Summer is just around the corner and I suspect that we are going to be spending much more time down at the lake, enjoying our self's and getting it ready for visitors to spend some vacation time.

Well that's about it for me........I see Jen's got some new Blog Followers, I'm sorry to those new followers...I'm not as good as Jen . Just like a Chicken Pecking away at a key board.

"Having the Times of Our Lives!" Til Next Time Gang.........Jerry

Silly Dog

The picture at the top of the blog is about right. We still have plenty of snow and plenty of freezing temperatures. In a nutshell, spring has not sprung here. We enjoy our trips to town because most of the snow has melted there, just eight miles away. It's still plenty cold, but at least we're not looking at the white stuff. Our driveway is a pleasure now that the rocks have been placed, and we no longer have mud season in the living room. This has made me incredibly happy. So happy, that I was compelled to wash and wash the floors this past weekend. What happened? Well, the floors were spotless with a beautiful sheen that had been allowed to dry uninterupted for five hours while I drove Allison to Newburgh on Friday night. When I came in, all the dogs were let out for some fresh air, and it became clear that Jake could not walk on the newly waxed floors. Even I was cautious as a quick turn could cause you to wrench your back. The floors were polished to a sheen, and he couldn't walk down the hallway. We have strategically placed throw rugs throughout the house, and Jerry laid them down artfully in the hall so that Jake could go from one to the other without injury. I guess this frees me from all floor waxing respnsibilities in the future? We'll see. He's been quite careful though, but I have caught him trying to get into the woods across the street, following Bailey up the mountain, blindly I might add. If he should fall in the woods, and I can't find him, I would say he's up a creek without a paddle. He's had to be helped up many times when his hind legs just give out. It's a terrible thing to see, but the fact that he is still interested in mountain climbing does intrigue me. It is a case of mind over matter. The desire to have a good time outweighs the risk of injury. Have I mentioned that I have been horseback riding? I go to an hour class on Wednesday nights, and to say that it has revived me is an understatement. I am living for that hour, once per week. For that one hours I feel weightless, fearless and empowered. I'm climbing obstacles, running, galloping and just being free. So I totally understand Jake and his mountain climbing persuits. We're both trying to squeeze a little bit more out of our limits. I dont' know how Jake feels, but I do know that I am feeling happier for that pursuit. Now if this damn snow would just go away, we'd be great.

Got Mud?

Yes we do. It's been a long, cold winter, and the melting process is taking some time. It has it's own season, that which we call "Mud season" here in the Adirondacks. No one is safe from it, because we ALL have the same harsh winter to melt away. Those with paved driveways (the debate continues) are much happier than those of us with "rustic" driveways, which means essentially that you have paved a driveway into the landscape by simple continuous use. We have a circular driveway, which in my Long Island Mind is a step above those with a straight driveway. I love it. It's not the same circular driveway that existed in my youth, bicycling through Sands Point and dreaming of "someday. . . ", but I love it just the same. However, our driveway has taken quite a beating this winter, and the melt is becoming dangerous. I have to use the 4-wheel drive just to back up, and the north corner is sinking towards the pond. Drastic measures are needed, and that's where Dave comes in. Dave lives down the road and is busy boiling sap at this point in the season, but not too busy to come to our rescue. Solution? Rocks. Dave, who was the landscaper in our Rock project around the house, delivering huge boulders to give our front porch "the look" we were looking for, as well as designing the system for drainage, is delivering the rocks that will save us from mud oblivion. Poor Allison has been reduced to waiting for her bus at the road, on time, because the mud avoidance route is too timely and messy to take on while the bus is parked, with flashing lights, waiting for you. That is another blog for another day, but you get my point. The garbage bags get loaded onto the front porch, knotted up and waiting for the brave soul who will don their mud-boots and take them out to the pails that are at the "curb". We have no "curbs" per se, but again, I've made my point. Mud season takes on huge planning and avoidance times. Nothing outside of the house is spontaneous, because you have to figure out where it is you are going, and what you will need when you get to the other side? This is how people start wearing workboots to church. It's a slippery slope (no pun intended) when you are in the middle of mud season and have somewhere to go. April brides have been known to don workboots under their dresses. I don't know that I would take that extreme. My wedding day? I think packing an extra pair of shoes would not be a huge inconvenience but, hey, that's me. How far would YOU go to have the right shoes for your visit to town? They are delivering the rocks as we speak, and the dogs, who at first were barking maniacly when the truck arrived and dumped its load, have now adjusted to the sound and are sleeping through it. Very little inconveniences them. All they know is that it is spring, and as soon as I open the door, EVERYONE wants out. Yesterday, I was climbing underneath the porch to retrieve Daphne, who had decided that rolling around in the mud was a beautiful experience, and she wasn't quite ready to come in from the sunny day. Sweet dog. I now have a pile of towels by the front door, for use by anyone who comes in and hasn't made a good maneuver out there. I just keep thinking "May." By then, it will all be grass and stones. One can only hope. Got Boots?

Northerly migration

They're coming back. I have been witness to the northerly migration of the birds that cut out last fall. It is as exciting to me as a trip south was to them in the first chilly temperatures of September. Welcome! We've missed you! The southerly migration is a bit like rush hour in that the skies are full and quite predictable. But now, on the cusp of spring, only the heartiest of the birds are venturing back into the north country, and we have set out a feast for the eyes and bellys. We want them to know that there is food here, even though the tops of the adirondack chairs are just peeking through. I have watched a couple of "V" formations pass by heading north, and I have cheered them on vocally. Lucky for me, I live in the woods! "Welcome, come on down" shouted to the rooftops might cause me some stares if I lived in town, but here in the backwoods, I'm me and myself. We can shout anything we want, and no one will come to get us. I have shouted a few times in the dead of winter, more along the lines of "aaaaggggghhhh". Now that we're closer to spring, the shouts are more the expressive exhultation kind-Thankfully, for any distant neighbors who may wonder what it is they're hearing far off in the distance. We have heard recently that a mountain lion is prowling in the vicinity of our property. This is a little disconcerting, especially when you take a wander out to the mailbox, which happens quite often when I forget to take in the mail. Around dinner time I will look around with a practiced eye, determining what needs to be done before Jerry gets home. I can get a days worth of puttering done in twenty minutes or so, so that the truth of my lounging isn't as prominent when he walks in the door. At least the table will be set, dinner simmering on the stove (you can bring a simmer up pretty quickly if you have to) and the mail set out for perusal. At this time, I may realize that I had forgotten to bring in the mail and the newspaper and head out to the mailbox. Now that daylight savings time makes it light at six PM, it's not such a big issue. But walking the 25 feet to the mailbox at dusk after hearing a mountain lion is around doesn't bring me alot of peace. If I were to choose an escort, I would make it Daphne. She would take on anything that moves. In her mind, she would win. But the reality scares me a little. I hope it is rumor, and Jerry's call to the DEC brought us no new information. Now THAT is a yell that would get someone's attention. In the meantime, I will practice welcoming the birds that fly overhead, and sometimes stop at our little sanctuary by the driveway. Suet, seed and water are available for any northerly headed feathered friends. It's nice to see them back. I have big plans for the pond this year, and hope to expand the sanctuary to that. I'm often asked how we survive the winters here, and why. Spring, Summer and Fall, that's why.

Hey Friends

I'm guilty of laziness. Sometimes it is so hard to sit down at the computer and eek out something worthy of your time. Sometimes I accomplish that, sometimes I fail miserably. It has been such a bleak and dreary time here-mud season. We still have the snow, but its continual melting combined with the dirting that we do during snowfalls turns the whole thing into a big muddy mess. And today, miraculously, all that is gone! We once again have a spectacular winter wonderland! As much as I loathe and despise snow this time of year, you can't deny its beauty. These views are mine from our living room and from the road, where Jerry is once again tirelessly plowing the driveways. He is weary of the snow, and I certainly can understand that, as I do not plow. But for me, it is a gift every time it happens. I am concerned for our beautiful birch trees, which take the hit of an ice storm more so than the other trees. They are the bowed limbs blocking the driveway, and when all the snow is gone, they will continue to lean. As Jerry says, "They were here long before we were, they will be fine." I'm going with that thought. The sap is running these days and down the road I understand the men are working on the syrup. My mouth waters just thinking about it. Schools were closed today, which was a nice bonus for Allison, having attended Glen Cove's Junior Prom until the wee hours of Sunday morning, she is catching up on some zzzzzz's. Well deserved. She is a beauty. All of the girls at the prom just take my breath away. I remember when they were Brownies and Girl Scouts. And now they are beautiful young women clubbing the night away. Yikes. I'm glad she's home safe. I may not let her leave again. That's my first thought whenever I see the pictures from a good time. As a worried parent, I always think that anything that is that much fun shouldn't be allowed. Sorry Allie, I was born that way. I wonder this time of year about our Irish roots, and I am always compelled to make March 17th a Holiday, with a capital H. It's the holiday I miss our kids when they're not around, because it was always the most fun. We're together in spirit, if not around the table. Corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes. It's an acquired taste, for sure. We discovered an auction house in Gloversville, and were there at the stroke of six on saturday night, just in time to bid and win these treasures: Two pair of snow shoes, beautiful birchwood tables and a boars head. The jury is still out on the boars head. The fact that Jerry was the only bidder should have been an indication of something, but we proudly brought him home. I'm still not sure, but his provinence gives him a position of interest in the living room. We'll see. The auction was a good time. We were packed and out of there by 8:30, so for couple of hours on a Saturday night it was a good time. I highly recommend it just for the people watching opportunities. It brings out quite a crowd, and quite alot of items to be auctioned. Mixed with the odd stuff is a beautiful hutch or dining set. It's definitely one of those moments where "you have to be there". We were. The good thing about snow storms in March is that no matter how much damage they do, you know they will be gone soon. Enjoy this last spurt of winter. I know I will.

Horseback Riding-the new Tap Class

When I was in the throes of my tap dancing fetish (An object of unreasoning devotion or concern, Webster's Dictionary)I was happy, I was exercising and I had a great time. Since my neuropathy and other health issues have caused me no lack of pain and frustration, I have not been tapping for a good long while. I miss it every day. I have experienced all those things again, and to my surprise, it involves a 1000 lb. animal. I am thrilled to report that I actually DID something I have been thinking about for a long time, and it turned out to be better than my imagination could have prepared me for. My good friend Melissa and I have been discussing all the ways to get out of our winter doldrums, and horseback riding has appeared on our collective list for awhile. We were set to get out for lunch on Wednesday, and as I was a bit early for our established time of 12:00 noon, I decided to swing into the stable I was passing by and get the particulars. Wednesdays at 7:00 PM, there was an adult beginners class. One hour for $20. Not bad. I can blow $20 very quickly and without even batting an eye at the expense-most of us can. So this price seemed fair and worth our while. When I reported this information to Melissa, we were in a quandry because she was already committed to her Wednesday night Bible Study, and so it seemed that I might have to go it alone. As the day progressed, and my powers of persuasion (of COURSE God is in the stables with the horses, it's just a different place of worship) took over, (all of which I do believe in truth), it became apparent that we would be taking our first horseback riding lessons as adult beginners. We arrived at exactly 7 PM, because although we are both timely adults, I was involved with Allison and was her ride to her friends house. We would have been early enough to witness the class before ours, and perhaps get a few pointers, but instead, pulled up to the farm at precisely the stroke of seven. Going inside the barn, which is not heated, we were greeted by our instructor Ron. He is the epitomy of a cowboy, in my eyes. I'm sure he was wearing wrangler from head to toe, but not in a fashionable way. It was strictly business. His clothes were dusty and dirty and clearly his job is in a barn. No doubt that he has a "hands on" type of job. I have been acquainted with Ron since 2008, when Allison took riding lessons in a young people's group. He was a character then, he is a character now. Inside the arena were two people on horses, riding and working with their own horses. I guessed that they board them there. Sitting on a chair right outside the arena was the cutest Jack Russel Terrier, watching all the proceedings with an acute eye, but not a sound. Melissa and I were joking with each other, because we both have that same sense of humor, which is to use jokes to cover fear. We were awash with humor. I have ridden before, but always in a very controlled and pre-planned environment. I've done trailriding on horses that were so sick of their trail they were doing it with their eyes closed. The rider could have been screamiing "WHOA, WHOA" and the horse would only have followed the lead rider, because that was the plan. This was a different environment. We would be learning to communicate with horses in order to have them (and us) understand what it was that we wanted them to do, and in turn, they would do it. This, for me, was new. For Melissa, this was REALLY new, because she had never before been on a horse. Not even at a fair where the horse rides in a circle the way you do as children. This was her first time. Scary. I admire her for stepping out and taking it on. That's a big deal. Anyway, we followed Ron, who had saddled up two horses, into the ring. He led the horses over to a double sided stairway, which I followed up to the top, three stairs, at his direction. We got me onto the horse, where I saw while he helped Missy onto hers. My horse, Smokey, was gentle and docile, and stood waiting for my direction. I had none. Once Missy was up and saddled on Jordon, we were ready for instruction. The first instruction was all about holding the reins and being "In charge". We learned to get the horses to walk, stop, circle, reverse, faster and slower. It was the first half hour where all the instruction went on. The next half hour, we put it into practice and circled the arena over and over with our charges. The other two people on their horses in the area would make some joke, and we would laugh, and it was all pretty special. Ron got on a horse and joined us circling the ring. We spent the rest of the class just riding, talking, relaxing and conversing. The beautiful and powerful horses would just move at our direction, quietly, while we held our conversations and took it all in. This is where the magic hit. It was the best time I have experienced in a long time. I am excited to report that these rides can turn into trail rides through the Adirondacks and upstate New York. Ron rides with a group who will trail into the woods and spend full weekends riding. Learning to be comfortable on the horse and hearing about all the possibilities, once we learn to really ride, was an exciting and heady thing. Being in the barn, which was a cool 15 degrees, with the lights, and the other riders, and the barn animals (yes, there were barn cats here and there, sitting on stable walls and watching us) and of course, the little jack russel who eventually came into the ring and quietly joined his master up in the saddle. It was all a beautiful experience. We finished up and carefully got OFF our horses, on the same steps, and finished up a very exciting and powerful hour. Walking after sitting on a horse for an hour requires as much effort as getting ON the horse did an hour before. We did it. High fiving each other in the parking lot was just the first of many congratulations to ourselves for actually doing something we had talked about for a long time. We were proud, thrilled and exhausted. At that point, I started to feel the cold, but it was managable. I hadn't even thought about it in the arena. When I got home, I was so happy, sharing my experience with Jerry and Allison, I felt wonderful having a new experience to share. It was just that great feeling that you have when you spend a really wonderful time in a productive and enjoyable activity. I had done something quite physical, and my legs weren't even hurting. Actually, it was probably healthy for me to get up on that horse an do something really physical. It was a thrill. I know now where you will find my on Wednesday evenings. And yes, God was there. Can you tell?

War of the Roses-or, Bailey vs. Angel

It's been a long weekend. Our dear friends Dan and Jennie had dropped off their dog Angel, while they went away for the weekend to dance their little feet off. Angel, if you've read past blogs, has been a guest at our house many times. In fact, we don't think of her as a guest, she is just one of the pack. Her personality is very much like Bailey. In fact, she and Bailey spent the weekend playing one-up. When it comes to food, Bailey is still Alpha. Angel is too well mannered to even mess with him over his food. We established early on that Bailey had food issues, and have allowed him to work it out on his own, as long as he plays nice with the other dogs. No chomping allowed. But Angel is very well mannered about food. That's not the issue. The issue is the couch. Since we have a leather couch, I have now loosened the law about no dogs on the furniture. If no one is sitting on the couch, it's fair game. This has caused problems when someone DOES want to sit on the couch, because Bailey feels that they might be sitting in his seat, and a little correction is necessary. Dogs intimidating people about seats is not OK. When Angel comes over, the couch is the first place she heads for. I think it is a security thing, she likes to lay there and hide her face. This makes Bailey crazy, because if he isn't sitting on the couch when Angel arrives, he loses that spot. Score: Angel 1, Bailey 0. Now Bailey will spend the rest of the hour monitoring Angel's activity, so that as soon as she steps off the couch, he can jump up and claim ownership. Score: Bailey 1, Angel 1. It went on like this all weekend. The chewies, after-dinner scraps, bowls of water. You'd be amazed at how many bonuses can be counted and weighed. By the end of the weekend, Angel was up by about 15. Bailey was losing sleep over this calculation. He was staying awake just waiting for Angel to make a move, and then he could make a move a bit further. Quite comical, but it wasn't my beans being counted. By the time Angel was picked up on Monday morning, Bailey was exhausted. When Angel left, he immediately placed himself upon the sofa, without challenge. It just wasn't any fun, because he REALLY likes to sleep in my chair, because MY chair is quite comfortable. I worked it out that way. After being thrown off MY chair three times, he finally settled onto the dog bed and took a much needed nap. Counting beans is exhausting. I came into the living room a while later, and found that Bailey had settled himself back on my chair-he just couldn't help it. But the difference this time? He was facing the back of the chair, purposefully not moving. I know what he was thinking. If he couldn't see ME, then I couldn't see him. Good plan, except it doesn't work that way. I told him again, to get off the chair. He seemed a bit surprised, but got down immediately. This morning there was a bit of a scuffle in the bedroom. I believe that someone had a bit of food or something, that's usually the cause for scuffles. Jake went to bed immediately, because that is how he handles conflict (not a bad policy) and Bailey came into the living room as if nothing had happened, although he wasn't looking anyone in the eye. Spring anyone? I think it's getting to all of us.

Stay on the road

Dear Newport News. If you'd like to sell me a bathing suit, please don't put it on the size four "I haven't eaten in months" model named Bambii. It doesn't make me happy, nor will it sell the suit. I've gone in search of bathing suits at Cabelas, in hopes that they will have more to offer me. signed, Jen I'm doing the catalog surfing these days, and I'm having a lovely time. I've set up orders for bulbs in the garden, seeds for the vegetable patch, a new spring wardrobe and cruise wear. I'm having a ball. Thank God I don't use credit cards, or this could be dangerous. I prefer to pay on time, which means that I'll be able to wear this years spring wardrobe in 2021. Our television watching has changed as well. I now tend to watch a certain channel right through their evenings programming. Is it that I am enjoying the programming or is it that its simply easier than changing the channel to search for something else that I like. After all, if I liked the first program, chances are that the second or third that follows it will be in the same type of humor "family". It's a long shot, but it boils down to the devil you know vs. the devil you don't know. In other words, my standards for watching TV have gotten pretty low. My other choice is going outside, which these days is treacherous. The snow is melting off the roof, which could come crashing down on you when you least expect it, and the snow on the ground is twice as dangerous. Never has a surface been so smooth. Zamboni would be jealous. yesterday when I was returning from a meeting in town, I pulled into the driveway from the north side, turned the wheel to follow the circle and land in front of the house. My wheel was turned, but I was going forward, and then the whole car just slid to the right towards the pond, which now was blocked with a wall of plowed snow. We gently bumped into this plowed safety, and the car came to a stop. I waited until dusk, when the temperature had dropped, and moved the car easily to where I was originally planning on parking. These things don't phase me much any more. I guess I'm used to winter here. That's good, because it lasts until May.

good bye winter!

I haven't written in quite some time. It's been a difficult time of year for me, and writing it down seemed doubly offensive. You d know the old saying, "if you haven't got something nice to say, don't say anything". Well, generally I change it to "if you haven't got something nice to say, come sit by me". When you're trying to take the high road, either way won't work. We have just come off Valentine's Day, a double holiday for us-our wedding anniversary too! Valentine's Day was always special for me-giving and sharing valentine's with your children is so sweet. Seeing the new loves and sweeties as they get older, from Kindergarten on. it's a loving holiday, and I love it. We married on Valentine's Day because it was symbolic for us to be Valentine's forever. Nine years. We are still each other's valentine. And so, the darkness of winter seems to have broken, and anticipation for spring is rampant. People's Christmas decorations are coming down (only to the level that can be reached due to the snow) and St. Patrick's decorations are going up! The year is moving along, and most people will say of the winter of 10/11, "don't let the door hit you in the arse as you leave". We're all ready for spring. I have been planning my garden, and also planning the landscaping for the pond. I plan on taking it on this year. Last year it was overgrown and ignored. I am feeling stronger day by day and will win the pond wars, I'm sure of it. Pick your spring battles an take them on. Let the games begin!

Spring thoughts

Hey friends! The blogging has been hard due to the arthritis in my hands. Sometimes typing is not the most favorite activity to choose. And so, I choose to read. Lately I've been tearing through books very fast. Some good, some great, some I don't get past the first chapter. I can usually tell by the first chapter whether or not a book will hold my attention. Either its the style of writing or the content. Some books I choose thinking it will be the best read ever, and after just a few pages I'm gone. It's hard to tell. But the truth is, I can usually tell a book by its cover. I know that is not the way its supposed to go, but I can look at a book's cover, read the back summary and usually know whether or not I'm interested to read any further. The great books I have read lately are "Water for Elephants". I recommend this book highly. It was hugely entertaining. The story of a young man who loses his parents and decides to head out with a circus. It's a wonderful story and is in the process of being made into a movie with Reese Witherspoon and Rober Pattison. I saw the coming attractions when I went to see another movie. It looks promising. I am now reading "the girl with the dragon tatoo". I have had this book recommended to me for months, but just started it yesterday. It's great. The beauty of winter, for me, is that I can settle into my comfortable chair and decide what it is I want to do today. The day is mine. I have been crocheting as well, because it doesn't require the nimble fingers that knitting does. I'm hoping that the warm weather that comes with spring will bring the relief for my hands and legs, but for now, it's one book after another. On another note, Daphne is thriving with her insulin shots. She seems much better. The other dogs are sleeping alot too. I guess winter has that effect on all of us. Hang in there. Today I planted some herbs for the kitchen, in little glass containers. Getting my hands in the potting soil was very therapeutic, and I recommend it. Plant something in your window. Soon it will be blooming with the rest of the stuff outdoors. I'm sure of that. It happens every year, just when I think I cannot stand another moment of dirty snow. Something will smell fresh and soily, and it is spring. I'm counting on it.