Who-Let the-Dogs-Out?????

Ever been told "you're goin' to the dogs"? Or, "you're a dawwwg"? Or, "you're in the doghouse"? Well, now you can rest easy, knowing that being compared to a dog is a positive thing. Don't waste your money on psychological counseling! Don't spend hours lying on a couch that belongs to a stranger with funny glasses and argyle socks! Just take this quiz and you'll be barking up the right tree!

http://quiz.ivillage.com/home/tests/dogs.htm

You'll be glad to know that I took this quiz, and have myself all figured out. No longer will I feel guilty for staying up til 4 in the morning! No longer will I lie awake at night making mental lists of stupid things I've done to warp my children! No longer will I twist my hair into knots wondering why I feel the urge to read while I jog! No longer! I am OK!
I really am!

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The German Shepherd is a workaholic. Intent on business, this loyal breed is always on patrol. Suspicious of strangers, she defends her territory with a fierce reproach. When it comes to affection, she is tender and loving toward her pack and feels a deep responsibility for their well-being. Mental and physical exercise both appeal equally to the German Shepherd, and her intelligence is further enhanced by her dedicated nature. When it comes to dependability, the German Shepherd has the market cornered.

The 2008 Bookshelf

I kept track of only a few of the books I read in 2008. They are listed here. I may add others as I come across them while cleaning out from under my bed, or emptying my go-to-work bag, or organizing the dust bunnies under the china cabinet. I say china cabinet loosely here. I REALLY call it the old lady cabinet, because Dennis bought it from an old lady, and it smells like it came from an old lady's house. Savannah runs into my dining room and opens the door of the cabinet, takes a deep whiff! and grins. She loves the way it smells. ???



No Clue at the Inn by Kate Kingsbury
A Mile in My Flip-Flops by Melody Carlson
(Both of the above---cutesy & very lightweight)
Playing for Pizza by John Grisham
(football story-pretty good)
The Appeal by John Grisham
(typical John Grisham...very good)
The Templar Legacy by Steve Berry
(blah, blah, blah, Jesus was just a man, some guys tried to prove He was never resurrected, read the "gospel of Thomas", blah, blah... nicely written, but predictable)

Christmas is Coming...

The fireplace is burning, the hot chocolate is brewing, the sewing machine is whirring...
yes, Christmas is coming!

Our latest endeavor is a spin-off of something I saw on an Etsy site.

We tweaked the idea a little,
and had our little neighbors over for an afternoon fashion show.

Miss Jenny

Little Miss Morgan

These precious little girls like to come over and hang out.

Between "photo shoots", they watched Madagascar and ate left-over Halloween candy.

The Spirit of Christmas...magic...and creativity...is alive and well on County Road R.
These new duds will hopefully make their way across the country
to spark other little girls imaginations.

Chicken Soup for a Kitten's Soul

2008 was not a successful year for kittens.

Each spring brings the promise of sweet new kittens to cuddle. This year, we had three mama cats who dutifully tried to populate our acreage so as to keep the mice away. And I must say, in the past six years, I have not seen one mouse (well, ONE, and that was when Tam was visiting. It was wearing cowboy boots...I think it was Texan.) Anyway, I have not observed any mice in our house, so our idea to feed cats instead of mice must be working.

But this year, I'm not so sure. We had a total of 21 (!!!) kittens this birthing season, and one by one, they went to the great nursery in the sky. I didn't fall into the trap of naming them, but Kaitlyn and others sharpened up their imaginations and named them all, until at the last, we had only two left. No names. Just little fluff balls. Kaitlyn and I were inspired one day, and began calling them names according to their looks...Pumpkin, a yellow and white sweetie..and Spice, a soft little calico. One day later, Spice disappears. Gone. No fluff, no trail, just gone. Then, while Kaitlyn and I were in Texas, Pumpkin gave up the ghost.

I'm not naming any more kittens. Or mice. They can stay in Texas.

Things I Know

My husband loves me. He is patient and kind. Not perfect, but I would never trade him in.

I have friends. Sometimes they just hold me.

I don't like gossip. When I have contributed, it makes me feel guilty and I have to apologize. When I hear others, it makes me feel uncomfortable, like a walnut in my shoe. When I am the subject, it tears at my soul, at who I am.

My family is the most important thing to me, to my world, to my aspirations, to my future.

I love sunshine.

Commitment

So, I've taken up running. Well... I say running, but I mean jogging. Well...I say jogging, but I mean walking with a bounce. And by bounce, I mean...bounce. Everything that CAN bounce, DOES bounce!

In May, the youth pastor's cute, trim, perky little wife said she would head up a group of ladies to run in the local 5K to be held in September. A program called "From Couch Potato to 5K." A couple of us said, "yeah, right". She assured us it really WAS for true couch potatoes. And we really COULD run 5K. So amidst cheers, and side jokes, and advice on non-bouncy clothes, several of us jumped on board.

I consulted with my runner friend, and we went shopping for running shoes. GOOD running shoes. Ninety dollars later, I was committed. I have never spent $90 on an entire outfit in my LIFE, so to spend that much on shoes...well, buddy, you better believe I am committed. Totally.

The plan was to start slow...brisk walk for five minutes, then jog for 60 seconds, then walk for two minutes. Who can't do THAT? Piece of cake. No sweat.

Yeah, right. 30 seconds into the run, I was huffing. Then puffing. Every movable body part was starting to move. In a bad way. Thankfully no leering old men were around, or guffawing young men.

But I did it! 60 seconds of jogging. No cardiac arrest, no respiratory failure, no torn ligaments. I was on my way! Immediately upon returning to the house, I pawed through my dresser looking for more "suitable" clothing for jogging...namely something that is too small and tight to even breath, but prevents the bounce effect.

The next day, as I jogged (walked/bounced) I was worried about my future appearance. Would I ever be the same? My sisters moan about their figures, but I hadn't really worried about mine. But now I do. Am I to be stretched irreparably, doomed to be the saggy old lady in the nursing home that everyone talks about? Should I consult with a plastic surgeon now, while I still have some natural shape? Maybe I should reconsider this. I have my husband to think about, you know. Nope. I paid $90 for those shoes, by golly. I'm committed.

So on I jog, for several weeks. My too-small clothing seems to be working. But...When will I get to the point where this is enjoyable? (I've heard that happens.) I see progress...I jog two minutes, three minutes, FIVE minutes at a time. But I am miserable every minute. Twice I jog eight minutes. Then calamity. (Glory be!) My right knee feels a little weird. I think my medial meniscus is a little strained. That is the main weight bearing ligament in the body, ya know, Very Important. So I should take a couple of days off. Nieces and nephews arrive for a week long visit. Then family camping. Then Kaitlyn's two week drama camp. A "couple of days" turns into three weeks.

I feel so discouraged now. While it has been a relief to "just be normal" again, the guilt is not enjoyable. I actually did feel a sense of accomplishment after I ran. When have I EVER run for eight minutes, WITHOUT STOPPING, in my entire life?

My $90 shoes sit in silent condemnation. My motivation. I put them on out of guilt, just to see how they feel. Have I forgotten the support around my arches? Have I forgotten the squishy cushion under my heel? Nobody's home, the evening weather is serene and beautiful. I should take a walk.

A few steps down the road, I wonder, "Could I even jog three minutes now, or have I fallen all the way off the wagon?" So I do a little jog/step, and crisply, with no pressure or expectations, I jog down the road...And I jog down the road...And I jog down the road. What is the MATTER with me? I jog for half a mile before stopping. About five minutes. Oh my goodness! It's like magic! No pain, no strain!

NOW I'm serious. I recommitted. I can do this.

The next day, I push to jog one mile without stopping. I increase a little every time, and the day I jog one & three-fourths mile, Emily is standing at the end, jumping and cheering, and screaming. Sweat running off my face, gasping for air, I grin and raise both hands over my head. Just the two of us, out in the country, on a hot summer day. I feel like a million bucks.

And that's the reason I press on. Partly for me, but mostly for my family. I love a sense of accomplishment, and I want them to personally see that, if this couch potato can do something she has NEVER, EVER done before, something that is HARD work, and takes a ton of persistence, THEY can accomplish exceedingly more than they ever thought possible...if they are committed and don't give up.


And the bounce? Well, it has been tamed by a $10 sports bra from Walmart.

September ramblings

School is back in session for most of us. Some teach a few weeks at a time, some along the traditional school calendar, and a few actually formally teach all year long. Whatever your method, September seems to be a good time for looking forward, starting new things, and generally “getting in gear".

Summer never seems quite long enough, though. Relaxing after finishing the prior school year, taking a vacation, doing outdoor projects…the time just seems to fly. I remember my dad telling me, when I was about five years old, “You think time drags by…as you get older, the days will fly by faster and faster.” Of course, I didn’t believe him.

Having a schedule for all the things we do seems to make sense of the days and weeks. We are pretty sure we can fit “it” in, whatever “it” is. The new math curriculum, the field trip, the trip to Grandma’s, the family volunteering project…all have their place of importance in our plans.

But sometimes, a bright yellow
flower will grab my attention, and
I just have to stop and admire it.
(The autumn sun shines so
magnificently on yellow flowers!)

A young kitten will mew as his
mother leaves the furry litter,
and I just have to stop, and admire
his tiny mouth and ears. (Kitten fur
is the epitome of softness!)

The tomatoes are growing nicely in the garden, and I just
have to pop one in my mouth and savor the sweetness.
(Nothing tastes more like “summer” than vegetables eaten
right in the garden!)

So as you make your schedule, and make your way through this busy September, take time to enjoy the moments that spring up, and tempt you to abandon your schedule. Sometimes abandonment is a good word.

Break Time is Over

Alright, it's time to get back to work! Break time has lasted a good seven months! Ron Paul seriously got in the way of this blog! We took a break from blogging, due to the serious and time-consuming nature of the Michigan and Ohio primary elections. Then, when I was just getting up to speed on the political front (after 45 years of la-la land) I burned my left hand quite badly. I couldn't type with my left hand for several days, then I could literally peck at the keys, then finally, after a few weeks, the bandages came off, and I was free to do as I pleased, hindered only by the occasional latex glove I used to keep the moisturizing oil on my hand, and off the keyboard, papers, my face, and everything else I touched.

Now that I don't spend as much time keeping track of Ron Paul and his "wacky" supporters, I might have time to do some interesting things around here! Kaitlyn, Emily and I have started "square foot gardening" . We also have entertained the idea of getting chickens to raise for food. The trim on our house needs painting, so I need to build/rent scaffolding to somehow scale the side of our house.
With gas prices so high, I have re-arranged our trips to town to only once a week, and being more scheduled has been challenging for me. I've been thinking of joining my sister Deb in a venture to make a little money on the side by starting a business called "Edith Jewel", and my first attempt was hand-made purses/bags. Emily jumped on the bandwagon with me, and we have since created four bags. Haven't sold any, but that's another day's work!

Things are always lively around here. One day last week, we had the pleasure of keeping Dylan, Dee's newest family member, a sweet two-year-old who is staying with them for a bit. Fun, fun, fun! I love showing little kids new things, like kittens, chocolate pudding, and fishies in the pond.

And speaking of kittens, I have to give our kittens some medicine, then take Emily to work. Never a dull moment!

Writing Class

Here in the middle of Nowhere, the lazy cow grazes in the fields of alphalfa, with a faint smell of freshly mown, lush, green grass in the background. The lady in her sweatpants sits on a porch swing, listening to the sound of the breeze, with a cup of coffee in her hand, and a book in her lap. A leaf from an oak tree falls limply to the ground...while in the middle of Somewhere, a man in his business suit and tie is rushed for time. Driving down the expressway in his new little sports car, he smells the strong odor of machinery from the construction of a skyscraper, and the smell of burgers from all the restaurants.


by Kaitlyn Collins age 13 October 24, 2007

Neighbors

Neighbors should be neighborly. Like ours.

Our neighbors have six kids. All sweet. All lovable. Well, except for Ryan. He's 12. So he's sweet and COOL.

These neighbors rank right up there next to my family. Dad (Randy) calls. "Hey, neighbor, this is your neighbor...YOU know...the guy with all the kids!" He asks to use the mower. He mows his grass. He returns the mower. He comes over the next day with oil, telling Dennis, "It was a LITTLE low." (It was fine.)

Mom (Julie) calls Emily "Em". Now...there's not a Much Better Thing you can do to warm my heart, than to call my kids by a little, casual nickname. It's sweet. SHE'S sweet. Julie just oozes sweetness. (But she's tough. She's a ranger at the Toledo Metroparks.)

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Ten-year old Randi (we call her Little Randi and Dad, MISTER Randy) came over last spring, and asked if she could do some work to earn money for the missionaries. I gave her instructions on what sticks to pick up, where to put them, etc., and told her I would pay her $3.00. She agreed.

I departed for the remainder of the day. The next afternoon, she came back, and as Dennis watched, I "inspected" her efforts, and went off to find $3.00. I returned, placed the folded bills in her bag, and away she went.

After she left, Dennis stammered, aghast, "I hope she did
a LOT OF WORK for $15.00!"
"I only paid her $3.00," I replied.
"Well, she said you were gonna pay her $15.00!" exclaimed my husband, who KNOWS I am a cheap-skate when it comes to paying the hired help.

(Remember the 10-cent drawer-cleaning task???)

I grabbed the phone, called Julie, and explained quickly, fearful of wounding Randi's feelings, and causing her eternal disappointment with neighborly relations. I know I told her $3.00! How could this mix-up have happened??? Julie died laughing. Randi was pulling Dennis' leg! A TEN year old!

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Eight-year-old Michael ambles over, jams his thumbs in his front pockets, and while hunching his shoulders, and sticking out his chin, asks, "Got any work I can do around here for cash?"

We assign him to Emily, and he assists with sorting her clothes by color.

Price: One dollar. Neighbors: Priceless

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We are being neighborly as well. Mister Randy does photography, and bought new equipment. So we gamely posed, while he experimented with his lights, cameras and props.

Neighbors can make or break your neighbhood. Ours is definitely MADE.

My New Toy!

I've been pining for a little red sports car for a long time. Last year, for our 25th anniversary, Dennis oh-so-secretly conspired, plotted, and accomplished the most amazing feat ever known to modern man. He gave me a little red sports car! It is a Stealth; it is Red; it is Sporty! This summer, we decided not to get it out of storage, because it needs some additional work, and we can save money on insurance, license plates, etc. So what's a girl to do?

Last week, on a lark, while waiting for Bethany to get out of work, we stopped at a variety store/sales place, with things for sale like...cars...landscaping stones...an old ambulance...shoes-for-a-dollar...golf carts...GOLF CARTS! YES! A golf cart would do nicely! So Dennis strode in and said, "Show me your cheapest golf cart!" The salesman gasped in terror, and we left shortly...the proud owners of a little old golf cart!

It made its way to our yard, where we immediately started on an Adventure. Down by the garage...up by the clothesline...around the pool...past the gigantic tire...through the garden...across the driveway...behind the barn...the NEIGHBORS!...beyond the cornfield...into the road...toward the neighbors (they were delighted)...back along the road...up the driveway...and finally, in our garage.

I power-washed (you can't believe the fun you have with a power-washer) the little tike, and he looked much better. But still a little under the weather. So Dennis spent the last three days playing "Autobody Man". Tonight he showed me the final results.

A new endeavor

I am so entranced by my sister's blog that I decided to experiment with my own.
She is A Noble Character; I am a Zippy Mama. I have aspirations of becoming a Noble Character, but I still find myself zipping around, sometimes serious, sometimes wacky, sometimes SUPPOSED to be serious, but being wacky instead! So basically, I am like this blog...a work in progress.