On A Lighter Note

I'm looking at the lump under the blanket on my bed right now. Lacy has twisted and turned and somehow managed to situate herself under the pile she has made of my bedcovers. It doesn't do to make the bed, anymore. The first thing she does is dig with her paws or nose the covers downward until she has found an opening through which to crawl. She then proceeds to burrow herself into a little cave, and it's hard to tell how much is blanket and exactly where she is in the middle of it all.

A mess-maker, that one is. Last night, I called her because she was being much too quiet and I couldn't find her. Suddenly, she poked her little black head up from the loveseat. What a sight - a pleased-with-herself expression on her face, her gun-barrel nose poking up over the white styrofoam plate she had fished out of the garbage clinched between her teeth. She looked as if she was ready for the buffet line.

She does all kinds of crazy things. Most are amusing, some are annoying, and a few are even infuriating (i.e. the stuffing from my sofa littering the living room floor). But many are endearing. For instance, she refuses to go to bed at night unless I go, too. When she's tired and ready, she fixes me in beady-black eyed misery until I finally give in and say - Ok, are you ready for bed, then? Her ears perk, she jumps up and heads down the hall. And if I don't follow, she does a u-turn and stares at me again.

She's much too good to sit on a bare floor, being the princess she is. She drags a blankie around with her, and drops it when she's ready to sit or lay down in the living room. She has a thing for blankets, and I often thank God for the deals Walmart offers on throws, because they are not only her cushions, they are also toys with which she tortures poor, long-suffering Georgie Bear. She somehow manages to throw them over herself and attack poor George, who grabs the blanket instead of Lacy, and the tug-of-war is on between him and a living piece of fabric.

If she's in the room, poor George doesn't have a chance at quality time or attention. If he approaches me, she throws herself in front of him or grabs the considerable hair on his neck and pulls him away. One night, I watched her jump on him as he lay on the floor, grab him by the fur and literally pull him around. And he simply let her do it.

She likes to hold hands. Often, she'll reach out that skinny little paw and crook it over my palm. I've no choice but to hold handswith her. And then she'll throw back that long neck and gaze up at me like, "this is good, mom."

She knows the word cookie in any inflexion of the voice, and if we aren't careful, she will one day be able to spell it. As it is, she can hear a wrapper crinkle from two rooms away, and knows that means cookie, too. At breakfast, she fully believes she is entitled to her own plate of sausage and eggs, and has been known to eat cabbage, blackeyed peas and the handles of hairbrushes.

She does not like pink collars studded with rhinestones- definitely is not a blinging kind of dog,  and she has made her point by chewing off that pink collar in favor of the plain blue and red one. There is nothing pretentious about her at all.

She is a crazy little dog that often stands upright on the loveseat and hangs her head backwards in such a way that she actually does look like a bat (what with those ears) hanging upside down. For all her messy ways, though, she is an enormous source of comfort and amusement. Her personality is vibrant and sometimes poignant, especially when she knows she's in trouble and her little face and big ears droop, and mom, will you please forgive me and I won't promise to never do it again...You know, I wouldn't trade her for anything.

Meandering my way through Saturday night

What a week.  Seems I am forever opening my journal entries with that phrase, but I can't help it.  Something is always knocking me for six, so tonight I am relaxing with a bowl of ginger tea and writing things out.

Where to start...work.  I was on my own for an entire week, except for the transfer coordinator, and had no clue I was supposed to do my boss's job until an officer from Special Ops poked his head in the door and said - "There's a guy who went out to court for resentencing who says they told him he's supposed to get out today.  What are you gonna do about it?"  I looked at him with wide eyes, gulped and said..."huh?"  After reading articles in the paper about inmates who are mistakenly set free, my biggest fear has been entering something wrong in the computer and releasing someone who should not be released.  And so I hopped on the phone, called the powers-that-be and the clerk of court in the county where the judgment took place.  No resentencing papers had come back from court with him and none of the powers-that-be knew anything about it.  The guy's felon time had run out, which meant he had to be transferred out to a minimum camp.  First crisis averted.  I won't go into the others because - you know what?  It's my day off. 

Bad news this week.  My father's doctor has ordered some tests to see if his cancer has returned.  He said..."It doesn't look good."  Dad has decided he won't have treatment if it has come back.  The last time he had chemo and radiation, and he never recovered well enough to eat more than mush.  His salivary glands were cooked.  He is in constant pain, and coupled with my brother's death, he simply hasn't any fight left in him.

I know people die...and that we grieve and heal and never forget.  But sometimes, especially lately, it feels like if I could cup my world in my hands, it would run through my fingers like water.

Just what the doctor ordered

The weekend was very nice - it was so good to get away for a little while and see new sites and sights.  My friend has promised to email some of the photos she took - maybe I'll get them posted up.

I wish I could have stayed for the Veggie Pride Festival in NYC.  I understand there was to be a wedding between a Mr. Carrot and some other garden inhabitant, and that the theme for the parade is "Give Peas A Chance."

You've gotta love it.

Once Upon a Time

We lived in a little white house with a sandy front yard.  Mama must have swept those hardwood floors ten times a day, with the four of us kids running in and out from making frog houses, climbing trees - there were so many trees, and nandina bushes in the back yard, a grapevine, hickory tree and a very large oak.  I remember all the dogwood trees, and the best for climbing was the Chinaberry tree because the center of the limbs made a cradle, and we loved climbing up and lounging there.

There were my two brothers, one sister (the other wasn't born until I was sixteen-years-old) and me, and we liked summer nights, catching lightning bugs, watching Shock Theater or watching the occasional lunar eclipse.  It wasn't all picturesque by a long shot.  I'll never forget the time my older brother tried to hang me with a garden hose. There was nothing passive aggressive about that one, for sure. But we had a good time, aside from that one incident. And there was always company, be it the neighbor kids or visiting cousins.  And we had everything we needed for a good time - sand in which to play, a cardboard box...talk about simple.  But it was nice.

Some things I remember most are watching Walter Cronkite on the CBS Evening News - every night without fail, The Ed Sullivan Show, and - lord help us all - Lawrence Welk. I never did warm up to that particular show, but my grandmother loved it.  She also like watching Peggy Mann and the Beverly Hillbillies.  And I remember party lines for the telephone...up until I was about seven years old.  Ours was two short rings.  Grandma's was three, Aunt Dot's was one long ring.  Didn't matter whose phone rang.  Grandma invariably picked up (she thought she was being slick) and listened in on every conversation.  THAT was why nothing got past Grandma.

There was building behind the house that I used as a library/classroom.  It was safe enough from the weather, and there were all those shelves..it must have been a storage shed at one time - and it was fun to escape to it with a couple of books.  My home away from home.

We lived about one fourth of a mile from the prison where I now work.  Sometimes, the escapees would run through our yard, officers (they were called guards, then) hot on their heels.  But we weren't afraid.  We grew up around it, so it was normal.  Once, Dad's German Shepherds cornered two in an old building on our property, in fact.  He went to investigate (with his .38 in hand) and marched the two refugees out, flagged down some guards in a state van that was cruising by, looking for them, and turned custody over to them.

Odd.  I never pictured myself living in this area all of my life, but none of us have strayed too far.  I live a four miles from the old house.  My brother Mike, Dad and Steve, when he was still with us, lived in a triangle from each other.  My older sister is in a nursing home - multiple sclerosis - and my baby sister is somewhere around..I can't keep up with that one.  But it hasn't been a bad place to be...there are all kinds of memories here, almost everywhere I look...good and bad, always mine..ours.

Not sure why I went back there tonight, barely scratched the surface...I guess when we reach a certain age (49, in my case) we look back at where we've been and where we are.  There was a time I would have left, or felt like I missed out by staying so close to what's familiar.  I guess this was just where I belong.  Where we belong.  And in spite of all the adventures that might have been missed, I can't say I regret it.

 

:-)

It's a stormy morning in Carolina, but it has been a nice one, with 2 hours of peace and quiet, a cup of Folger's and raindrops drumming on my window. The spinach quiche is in the oven and I'm getting ready to make bread pudding.  There are two other moms in the house besides me this morning, and they deserve something special to pick and choose from.

To all of you, Happy Mother's Day. 

A Day for Moms

Mother's Day is almost here, and I have no idea what to get my mom.  Bless her heart, when you ask her on any occasion if she has a preference, she invariably says, "Oh, I don't need anything."  I can understand, feeling that way, myself.  But...perhaps she would like some cherry blossom body lotion.  She loves that stuff.  Or perhaps an herb garden in the two extra country-mile-long garden rows dad has left from his Spring planting.  I can't make up my mind.

As far as I go....nope, don't need a thing.  What's fun to me is seeing what your children really think of you.  For instance, Beth called while I was still in training this evening and was told "She's in class, learning to be an obedient housewife."  My daughter's reply to that was a well-timed pause and then, "And this is a one-day class? It isn't nearly enough."  She's right.  My son, on the other hand, generally has no comment about either his mother or his father - that could be due to his claim that he was raised by wolves, or cats, or some other species that pops into his head when he's feeling particularly sorry for himself.  But there are times when I know...like when he puts his hand on my shoulder in an awkward gesture of comfort.  He doesn't show affection, much.  But sometimes...Or when he comes to me, all excited about an event in his day. 

What I would really like for Mother's Day is to have both my children here, noise and all.  That includes Lacy and George, the canine babies, who get so excited when company comes.

Not this weekend, but the next, I'm being incredibly selfish and doing something for myself - flying to New Jersey for a weekend visit with an online friend.  Finally! I kept putting it off and wouldn't do it, but with the price of fuel skyrocketing and airlines folding left and right, it might be my only chance.  After the last month, I truly, truly need some time for myself.  She's taking me to a statue garden and a place called Pea Island.  I can't wait.

 

Back in the Swing

Tomorrow will be a busy day.  We're having our primary in North Carolina and still, I am not sure who I'll vote for.  I'm leaning heavily in one direction, so that's probably who will get my vote.  Lord, please let us elect a leader who can and will guide the country in the right direction...

I'll have to cast my ballot early because tomorrow starts 16 hours of training and the first class is from 8 a.m. - 6 p.m.  We go through it every year, but DOC has increased our training hours.  I was recently informed that I would have to have 40 hours now.  Not sure how I'll get that, unless they want me to be certified, and that is a scary thought.  Me on the firing range.  I can't even draw a straight line, let alone hit a bullseye with a bullet.  And if they pepper spray me, somebody had better be standing by to call 911. 

The training is usually fun - it's a good break from the drudgery of prison and we get an entire hour for lunch.  Can you imagine?  I feel guilty taking the full 30 minutes.  We get to see folks from other units.  And hopefully, McCaskill from the hospital will be one of the instructors.  He is a sweetie pie.

On Saturday, Lori inspired me to start yet another diet with a few additions - exercises.  Reading her journal has really spurred me, she's doing so well.  So thanks, Lori.  You've put me on the right track.  Now to just stay with it.

And now it's time to put Lacy to bed.  She's already staring at me with doleful eyes because she's tired and won't go to bed without me. What a crazy little dog she is...but she's spunky and is good company.  Makes it hard to understand people who abuse an animal.

You all have a great rest of the week and be good to yourselves.

 

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Was reading an article in the local news recently about a trooper who had been dismissed for kicking his K-9 partner.  Actually, the governor requested he be removed from the force - and I wholeheartedly agree.    And then came another article in which some highway patrol officials claim that abusive treatment (i.e., kicking the animals) is required discipline/training. 

Personally, I don't want to be stopped by some cop who kicks his partner and thinks it's ok, and was relieved to read this article stating the K-9 operations had been suspended pending a hearing on the matter.  There is a video link in the article that is disturbing.  I couldn't watch it.

Some people deserve to be bitten on the butt.