|Chelsea meets the bunny.|
|2010, Two years old.|
She is a good girl.
|Chelsea meets the bunny.|
|Trying to get me to play fetch- just before I wrote this post.|
Chelsea is very musical and loves to "play" a toy that has a squeaker in it. For now, the bunny has a squeaker. I am surprised that the bunny isn't destroyed, yet. Doug played fetch with Chelsea in the yard this evening and then the three of us were in the yard for quite awhile- he working in the vegetable garden and me working in my full sun flower bed. Then, when I came in, I gave Chelsea her present and she is tired, now.
|2010, Two years old.|
Slowed by the lack of electricity, lulled by silence, not even the hum of electricity interrupts our interlude. I pause to do what it is that I love to do- read. I sit at the kitchen table, surrounded by a semi-circle of candles to shine upon the page.
The animals, too, sense the calm. Two cats and a dog sleep nearby. Normally, the dog demands attention, rudely nudging my thigh with her nose, depositing her toy on my lap, demanding a game of fetch. This evening, realizing the twilight within the house, serenaded by the sounds of frogs and crickets, she rests at my feet.
Teased for a moment, with a surge of power which doesn't take, (it is so brief, that the dog doesn't even bark- she replies to the surg with a soft "wumpf" of sound) I am surprised to feel a sense of relief. Our evening of silence and darkness continues. Without keyboard, or the light of the laptop screen, I reach for pen to express myself. My old friend, the legal pad complies, accepting my words. It is 9:30 and I am ready for bed. I will rest, expecting my slumber to be halted by the rude sound of electricity.**Our electricity didn't come back on until late morning, the next day. My sleep was uninterrupted, I was able to eek one more hot (fast) shower from the water heater and went to work, not looking too far removed from my normal appearance.
|One of my creations for my Dad|
My Dad has always been "Dad." Never "Father."
He and Mother both taught me to love nature.
Dad taught me how to be quiet in the woods and how to "see things" in nature.
I am usually the first to spot a critter.
He taught me how to cast a fishing line in such a manner
that amazed my son when he was young.
(I can also bait a hook and take a fish off a line, but don't often employ such skills.)
He felt it was important to learn to play chess. I learned to play chess, but I don't think my moves through and usually lose quickly. But, I know how to play chess.
He kicked my ass on a daily basis when I was younger and eventually kicked me out for arguing with him when I was nineteen.
We had a few years of barely speaking to one another.
Later in life, things were very tough for me, through the "lean years" of divorce, but I was strong because my Dad had made me tough.
We no longer argue.
I may disagree with him but I firmly say
"I am not going to argue with you about this- but..."
He now takes good care of my mother (which earlier in life I couldn't have imagined).
He is a diet-controlled diabetic and takes good care of himself.
He is helping my brother to get his life back on track.
We now have good talks. Earlier in my life, I never thought that would happen.
He quit smoking.
I don't think he drinks any longer.
He listens (most of the time).
He has softened.
He is my Dad.
|Sarah and me. By the time this photo was taken, we were sweaty and disgusting- but still smiling.|
|This photo was scary, but I wanted to take it for Mindy.|
We started walking around 12:30 p.m. For breakfast, I had two boiled eggs. I didn't have time to stop for coffee. I took a liter of water with me which was quickly downed. Someone had a grill and was cooking hot dogs. I had not had a bun for over nine weeks, but decided to have a hot dog and bun and a pkg of baked Lays chips. I downed a bottle of Gatorade and shortly after drinking it, I had mega pain in my lower left abdomen. At some point I had a no-bake cookie. Then, I started to struggle to stay hydrated and started downing bottles of water. Throughout the day, I must have had four or five or more.
|first of the survivors in the survivors walk|
Throughout the day there were different recognitions. The Survivors Walk made me cry. We stood to the side and applauded as they walked around the track. One gal (my age or younger) had the most beautiful wide smile. You could see she was full of joy at being a part of the walk.
|flags representing those yet to be diagnosed|
|Bringin' home the bronze!|
Even though just a few of us walked, a few more helped raise donations. Our little team raised about $1300. I was proud of that.
|We got to ride in her new car|
|Walking towards the festival|
|New construction in Indianapolis. Colt's blue. Coincidence? I don't think so!|
|Jennie DeVoe on stage- from Muncie. Note the dancing grape guy.|
|my friend and the duggles. the rain didn't dampen our spirits|
I wanted to win a "stress cow." I went to the booth and you had to spin the wheel and answer a question. My question was something like "Indiana's number two dairy export is what product?" I had been sampling wine and was having fun. I started jumping up and down and yelling "milk, milk!" The man in the red hat said "it is a cool sumertime treat." I started yelling "ice-cream, ice-cream!" That is how I won my cow.
|We had a lot of fun at the Vintage Wine Festival|
|Even though we are heading into a stressful time at work, I have no fear I'll survive.|
Now that I have my "stress cow."