“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.”
—Josh Billings (a.k.a. Henry Wheeler Shaw; humorist and lecturer)
I am your dog.
You chose me as a pup. Paid good money for me. Took me to your home.
And, while you never promised to love, honor, and obey me, you did promise to care for me.
Feed me. Exercise me. Pay attention to me.
You haven’t exactly done that.
Learn to be an observer in all seasons. Every single day, your garden has something new and wonderful to show you. ~Author Unknown
Look what I just noticed:
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. — From the television show The Wonder Years
The beauties, the jocks, the popular crowd
Make an entrance, heads held aloft.
Still strong of body, smooth of skin, untouched
By challenges they couldn’t or wouldn’t face.
The geeks, nerds, shy ones, and unknowns
Slink in hoping not to draw attention.
Who’d have thought they’d grow into attractiveness?
All grab name tags, then gravitate to special friends from before.
Funny how the old cliques persist, years after graduation.
Five or ten years out, talk centers on accomplishments.
Who has married, how many babies, whose job is most promising.
There are golf outings, tennis matches, bowling, and such.
Drinks flow freely, and so does the food.
Fast forward to the golden years, when things typically slow down.
Weathered hands fumble for name tags, grateful at last
For a chance to put names to faces, to call a halt to
The endless “Bet you don’t remember me” game.
An assortment of canes, wheelchairs, and oxygen tanks appears.
The aging beauties and athletes don’t look one bit better
Than their counterpart nerds, geeks, and unpopular classmates.
Most are familiar with pain, have shaken hands with illness and death.
Talk of grand-babies, retirement, and which surgeons are best
For replacing knees and hearts grabs the attention of all present.
A slideshow reminds them who is no longer among the living.
Activities include sit-down dinners, coffee, and a tour of the old school.
Funny how the cliques fade away, the older classmates become.
Dallas here.
Mama’s taking Grandma out of town for a doctor’s appointment, so I’m in charge of her blog.
Why not? I know you’ve missed hearing from me!
I was going to conquer the world but got distracted by something sparkly. — Unknown
Boy, can I relate to that! Funny how I wake up with big plans, then realize storms are on their way and find myself happily beading instead.
We call her The Queen
And rightfully so.
She sits atop her throne
Growling orders to her minions.
Barking demands,
Snarling commands.
The weak-spirited acquiesce
To her desires,
And they admire
Her confidence and purpose.
The strong-willed balk
And blatantly gawk
While, scepter in hand,
She rules the land
With an iron paw.
Getting her way
Through force and might
Or tears and spite.
She’s The Queen, you know.
She thinks she has a right to crow.
“The best thing about a picture is that it never changes, even when the people in it do.” – Andy Warhol
Guess Who???
This little camera is a Kodak Duaflex, which was discontinued back in 1960. I come from a LONG line of pack rats, so it should be no surprise to learn we still have the thing around!
See for yourself:
(We’ve still got the rocking chair, too, but I no longer fit in it, ha!)
Have you ever heard of Moonflower?
Before this weekend, neither had I. Here’s what one looks like:
Back and forth, forth and back,
Gliding in my friend’s handmade swing.
Pent-up tension, stress, and anger
Give way to calm and inner peace.
Back and forth, forth and back,
Kicking my feet out and welcoming
Sunshine on my face, breezes in my hair,
Nerves untangling, cares disappear.
Back and forth, forth and back,
Mugs of hot tea in our hands,
Listening to the birds chirp,
Watching the dogs snooze or chase squirrels.
Back and forth, forth and back,
Life’s simpler with certain people.
Talking or not, each with our thoughts;
Companionable silence soothes and heals.
The mark of a successful man is one that has spent an entire day on the bank of a river without feeling guilty about it. ~Author Unknown
My friend John Howell challenged me to write about my first dog, something I’ve been reluctant to do. But, armed with a fresh box of Kleenex, I shall give it a go in hopes enough time has elapsed to do it justice….
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 