Heavy Air and Airheads in the Hodgepodge

Although the questions are light this week, I know that our hostess, Joyce, has a heavy heart. Her beloved old dog, a faithful Gordon setter, died suddenly on Monday.  I'm so sad for her and her family. The loss of a sweet pet is always very hard,  especially in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, life changes and upheaval.  Sometimes I wonder if maybe our animals can't bear to see our pain, or maybe when their world is so rocked by seeing their humans go away (by moving away, being hospitalized, going off to college), they say their goodbyes, too.   I don't know. But I've witnessed it personally many times. 

Anyway, that was a heavy start to the light Hodgepodge today, but pain has to be acknowledged and grief has to run its course. It runs more smoothly when pals are there to hold your hand and lend a shoulder to cry on, even if the hand and shoulder are only figurative. 

1. Is your home air conditioned? If it's not air conditioned, is that by choice? Did you grow up with air conditioning? If not how did you cope with the heat? Share about a time or place you remember as being too hot-the temperature kind of hot, lest anyone be confused.

Our house is absolutely air-conditioned! The heat and humidity of a typical Maryland summer day are unbearable for this spoiled chick.  

No, I did not grow up with AC.  We had fans, and I remember how my sisters and I would scrunch up together (not touching, of course--too sweaty!) in front of the box fan on the floor and say "ahhhh" into the motor and listen to the wonky vibration. Hey, it's what you did when it was too hot to do anything else!  

The last place that was too hot was actually this past Sunday outside, from the car to the church building. The air was so hot and muggy that it made talking difficult .  Yes, for me!  Whaddya ya know? 

2. What's something in your life right now that falls under the heading 'up in the air'?

A job situation. I've applied online for private tutoring jobs, as I like to set my own schedule and rate. I already have one with a little girl who will be in kindergarten. I'm so happy to report that after a year of c0-teaching her with my daughter (I'd go Friday and Sarah would go Saturday), the little girl was awarded Best Reader in the Head Start Program in her school! That makes my heart sing and worth all the effort!

3. Your favorite light and airy dessert?

Strawberry shortcake with real whipped cream on top.

4. When did you last feel like you were 'floating on air'?

I really can't remember.  

5. Airport, airmail, airtight, airhead...which have you most recently encountered? Explain.

Airheads! Hands down.  Lawyers, contractors, salespeople, drivers; I wonder if I attract them or what???

6.  Have you ever been to the Alps? If so where did you go? If not, is this a destination on your must-see list? If you were headed that direction this summer, which of the following would be your preferred activity...a gentle walk, a serious walk, a bike ride, a boat ride around one of the lakes, or summer snow skiing?

Never been to the Alps. I'd like to, certainly. If I were headed there now, I'd prefer to boat around a lake. That's always on my must-do list for enjoyment. 

7. What is one saying or phrase that was considered 'cool' when you were growing up?

"Respectable" was a term I remember from when I was about 16.  At the ocean there were respectable waves. Guys had respectable cars.  Friday paychecks put respectable cash into your weekend fun.


8. Insert your own random thought here.

My dear friend and neighbor, Bonnie, had to put their own 14- year -old dog, Buck, to sleep while we were away.  He'd been having digestive issues for a year, but since May, he had witnessed a lot of change in the home life he was used to: Bonnie's son got married in May and moved away, her older daughter is preparing to go away to college, which makes the parents grieve in their own way. I think Buck internalized it. An old man, a precious chocolate lab, Buck hung on as long as he could, and everyone got to be there with him when he breathed his last. 

My heart goes out to Joyce and Bonnie as the summer of 2015 will always be remembered with choked-back tears. 

Fixed

The word "fix" is a peculiar one, isn't it? It has so many different meanings.

1. My dog has been fixed for a while now. (Actually, my husband likes to say, "He was fixed when he was born. Now he's broken.") One day recently my youngest child was having such a great time with our one and only dog, that he asked me, "Mom, Reilly is so cute. What does it take to make puppies?" Oh, my. Why do they always ask you that when you're unprepared? I repeated the question (an old parental stall tactic) and then said, "Well....you need a male and a female--." Then he asked, "and food and water, right?" I said, "Right," and he replied, "That's what I thought." And off he went. Shooey!!! Close call.

2. Today my daughter fixed a green smoothie. She declared it " a fail." She attempted to combine two different good-sounding recipes, and so in went a head of celery, two cups of spinach leaves, some lime juice, an apple, and cilantro. What she wished she'd used was parsley.
Let me tell you, it was very green. And very cilantro-ey. The faces we made trying to get it down should have been on youtube. The video would go viral, just like our guts. I told her it needed something else for sweetness, so she added berries. Do you know what happens when you mix red with green in a blender? I told her not to worry about it; it'd look the same coming out as going down. But I couldn't handle the tanginess, let alone the texture, so we added chunks of banana to our cup and poured smoothie over it. Then I added honey. Lots of honey. I wish I could say it fixed the problem.

3. And speaking of fixing problems, for your viewing pleasure (and ability), I fixed the link to the post called "Jimpressions." Have you ever heard such a funny pastor? I love impressions and I love to hear Shakespeare quoted. Combine the two and you've got some great comedy. Take a look and enjoy your Thursday.

4. What was last thing you "fixed"? A meal, a situation, your hair, a dog? Tell me. I'm fixin' to hear all about it.

Looks Like We're Getting a New "New Dog"! Now with Picture!

After much searching, and after having our first doggie adoption fall through, we got a call last night that we were chosen to adopt Murphy. The adoption center had over 20 applications for him, but --this makes me choke up with gratitude-- our application had everything they were looking for" for their dog. It just "so happens" (no, it doesn't, we prayed a lot and God has been answering detailed prayers!) that Murphy appears to be everything we want in a dog--smart, loving, trustworthy, young, and housetrained--not to mention gorgeous and very approachable.

It's a bittersweet tale of love and loss for the dog's owner. In a way I'm afraid to let my heart to get attached to Murphy since the turn-of-events with Riley. You know what they say, "It ain't over till the fat lady sings." (Allrighty, then, maybe I should warm up my vocal chords and belt it out!!!)

But as of last night, the rescue lady sent me the adoption papers, expressed her great happiness that Murphy will have a lot of room to romp and play, and will be great for Therapy visits, and will always have someone to Velcro his golden self to. The owner wants some pictures of our place to see where her dear pup will be living. She also wants to keep him this weekend to grieve the loss of her father with Murphy there (the dog was a gift from him a year ago, and this weekend marks the one-year anniversary of his passing). Her young adolescent son is having a terrible time letting the dog go, but the landlord has said no pets. The family he then was first placed with loved him greatly but one of their children is severely allergic, a fact they didn't know because this was their first dog ever. Everyone is this triangle (the owner, the fosters, and us) have lost a dog in one sense or another in the past month, and yet I have faith that God will bring the best to each family. It just seems like we're the ones getting the best of the best. Deep healing from losing Molly, our golden girl, made possible in large part through the life of this new one-year-old purebred Golden from Pennsylvania.

Murphy will be neutered on Monday or Tuesday and has special permission by the landlord to recuperate this week after that. Our plan is go up Saturday and bring Murphy home, to his new home. And if it works out, I may even get to meet a blogging friend, Jessi, for the first time in real life. She lives in the same town as the adoption center. How cool is that?

Click on his picture and then hit CTRL and the + key to upsize it. Might have to hit the plus key a few times to make it big enough for yourself!

Disappointed, but at Peace

What a saga. As of Friday night, we got word that we were going to have Riley. We couldn't have been happier. The rescue people had deliberated over three "great families wanting him" (their words) and in the end, chose us because of my plan to get into Therapy Dog work with Riley.

We put our good faith deposit on him Saturday. We rejoiced all weekend.

But then something happened. At dinner last night, Paul said to the kids and me, "You better hope my dream doesn't come true. I dreamed that we couldn't get Riley."

We chided him, the jokester ."Yeah, right. You never dream. You just don't want more vet bills."
He agreed that vet bills are a downside, but I could tell he was serious about the dream, and it kind of took me aback. Like, "Is this prophetic?" Not creepy-beepy prophetic, but more like, "Is this a hint to keep my heart from settling on less than God's best? Coming from someone who doesn't dream, this is worth noting.

I kid you not. Less than ten minutes later, the phone rang. I recognized the number as the foster mom's cell number. First thought? Riley died, ran away, something happened to him!

The woman said in a crackling voice, "Zoanna, I don't know how to tell you this...but...we can't let you adopt Riley. " And I began, "oh, no! Why? What happened?"

Then she told me, in explicit detail ,that when she had gone to pick up his bowl after feeding him that afternoon, he grabbed her arm and bit it. She said she was holding the bowl with one hand and had to punch his face with the other. He released and backed up. But she said the look in his eyes afterwards was not "sorry, I made a mistake" but "I meant to do that."

So, with tears as controlled as possible, she told me they couldn't let this fantastic dog , who had never shown food aggression in her 3 months of fostering him, go to a home with children. She was so disappointed in him, so sad for us. I told her I was glad she wasn't seriously hurt, and I was sorry she'd experienced that, and that I respected her for telling us right away. I assured her that we have always prayed that if the dog wasn't right, God would make it clear. He sure did make it clear. Better now that later. Better a trained foster parent get bitten on the arm than my little boy in the face.

Disappointed as I am, I feel very much at peace. I am thankful for Paul's dream and that he mentioned it and not withheld it. If I've learned one thing through the soul-searching and asking God "where to in this season of my life and at the same time getting a dog?" it's that I'm certain the next dog must be Therapy material. Loving, smart, trainable, no bite history, patient, easy on the eyes (some dogs are scary looking even though they're sweet as all get-out) and ABOVE all, trustworthy in all circumstances (including great pain) to be self-controlled. Basically, a clone of Molly:). I regret now not pursuing Therapy with her, but for most of her life, I had a house full of kids and for half of it, we were homeschooling and had extracurricular activities vying for our "spare" time. I couldn't commit back then to the regular monthly visits than residents come to look forward to. The timing wasn't right.

As for my heart in this saga today: I trust that this disappointment is part of a larger picture. I am confident God has heard us and is hand-picking The Dog for us.

We Get Riley!!!

Tonight we got an email from Ozark Homeward Bound (the rescue organization) announcing that they picked our family to get Riley!!!

The email said it was very difficult to decide because they'd had so many people wanting him, and then they narrowed the prospects down to three. I can't tell you how many prayers we prayed, and perhaps some of you reading this were praying on our behalf. If so, thank you so much!

I then wrote a thank you back to the woman, saying we're looking forward to having him as the 7th member of our home, and using him to brighten the lives of many people in need.

In turn, this was her sweet reply:

It was your desire to share him with other people via the therapy dog program that helped us make the decision - all Goldens are special, but there's something unique about Riley. Felt like Solomon there, for a while!

Looks like he'll be here on, or about, February 19th. Can't wait to meet our new boy!

Starting Over with a New Doggie

Rachel Anne's encouraging blog, Home Sanctuary, keeps me going back and back for more, while going forward or to get me back on track after
a swerve.

All positive directions. Today she has us starting over, in a matter of speaking. The idea is that starting over can be a positive thing as well, and the open-endedness of her question led me to post this. What am I starting over with?

The search for a new dog. Today marks one week since we lost Molly, our 10-year-old Golden Retriever. Part of me thinks there will never, ever be a dog so good in all the world. But even if there's not, there are thousands needing someone to love them, and boy-oh-boy, do I feel the need to love one back. Dog people understand.

But I don't need anyone to understand. I need a dog.

And I've been online hunting for another good dog, praying as I go.

We know we want a medium-sized, gentle, intelligent breed. Not a yapper. Not a climber. Not a chewer. Not a puppy. Probably female. Most likely a rescue dog who's been fostered so we get someone else's close-up observations of behavior and temperament. But then there's a possibility we might get a mutt handed to us, or a purebred Golden.

At any rate, we're starting over. And we're eager to meet our new arrival as soon as God wills. But first, I'll be starting over with a new (or at least altered body) and give myself time to heal up before chasing a wiggly, waggly pooch around the house.

It's exciting, and yet a walk of faith. And sometimes while walking in faith, you step in a pile of doo-doo. Such as this I am prepared for.

Molly's Sniffer

Thanks to my youngest child for taking this cute picture of Molly's sniffer, as he calls it.

Our penny-colored Golden Retriever
turned 10 years old on December 2nd.
She didn't hold it against me that I
forgot. We all forgot.

When I look at her these days, I often
get choked up. In fact, when I watch her sleeping, I check to make sure her
chest is rising and falling. If I can't tell, I put my hand to her sniffer to check for breath. If she still gives me a scare by not moving, I call her name, and she wags her tail and pops her head up.


Sadness wells up in my heart to think of the day she doesn't lift her pretty head and look at me with those big chocolate drop eyes. That face of hers now has a pale grey mask--the certified mark of an aging mutt. But she is still spry and limber once she gets up from a nap. She loves to chase squirrels off the deck. Rarely does she require much energy of us, except for food and water and to be let out and back in. Once in a while, though, her inner puppy comes out to play; when it does, we can tell by the sock dangling from her mouth.

I love my dog. I wish she could live forever.

Christmas Tour of Homes

Hi, there! Welcome to our home.
Six of us live here, six plus a dog, that is.
We couldn't find the sixth stocking we
bought last year, though. I'm mystified
as to what happened to it. If you've seen
it, please let me know. It beats getting
your loot in a Walmart bag.







Joel just set his latest Lego Star Wars
creation down for a minute so I could get a
picture of it. I love this stage where his little
hands are always busy building and creating.
I will miss the toys.






'Twas a white Christmas this year. Here's
Molly during our recent blizzard. Love
her soulful eyes and patient spirit.









Pardon me while I answer the door.
....
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'd really rather not go ice
skating today. Or any day. I haven't skated since I was a teenager at the Dublin Dell. I'm old now, as old and rusty as this sled the skates are hanging on. But thanks for inviting me. How about if you
come on in for a cup of coffee instead? No one will get hurt that way. "







If you've sent us a card, it hangs here on the
back of the front door. Thank you for taking
time to send us your Christmas hello.





A photo of my parents, 1961.
I'm so grateful they are both
still in my life, happy and as close
as teeth and gums to each other.







More wedded bliss on display
in the dining room:
Paul's parents,
mine,
and us.

I moved the greenery right
after the photo shoot. One of those
branches had caught fire. Un petit
feu, but still! It only takes a spark...





My favorite nativity scene atop the kitchen
bookcase.
When I look at the tapestry from Russia, I remember fondly the year Sarah and I went there, and remember to pray for Sacha who is there now for a year, and for our Messianic friends in Birobidzhan.




A basket of silk poinsettias that came from
my sister Jill's wedding. She got married six
years ago, just after Thanksgiving because she
loved being in my Christmas wedding as my
flower girl.

The muff on the piano was what my older sister, Rachel (my maid of honor) carried in my wedding. Joel did this display. Not bad for a
7-year-old, eh?





I usually do a homespun look on my tree, with all the
old ornaments and colored lights, but this year I wanted to go with more of a glamorous one. Copper and gold and lots of baby's breath with white lights. It soothes me every time I look at it.






Candle cluster above the TV.








Silhou-
ettes of snow-
flakes
that Joel crafted.
Love second grade
art, don't you?








The Singing Redhead made by my
friends Diane and Sue many years
ago. Seeing this little wooden doll
reminds me of God's faithfulness
in healing Diane from cancer.












Is it sacrilegious to put a nativity
scene in a bathroom? If so, I'm
sorry, but since we visit this room
so often, it's a good place to be
meditating on the Lord, right?
The wooden creche was made
by my friend Barb's brother-in-law.
I put straw on a tray with
cinnamon-scented
pinecones around it.














Can't have too many candles.


That's my motto.







Well, that's our little tour. Thanks for
stopping by our home, if only in pictures.
Do make plans to come by in person.
The driveway has been shoveled for you and
we have plenty of hot chocolate.

I hope you've had a blessed Christmas Day
and will have a peaceful new year.

Dayenu: The Canine and Car Version

I woke to the sound of Sarah's voice. "Mom, do we have a bandanna I can tie around my nose? The dog crapped three times in my room and once in the basement."

Thus started my day. Is this the beginning of the end of my sweet dog's life? Two days ago Molly had an accident in the basement. She is nine years old and we've had her nearly seven. She has had maybe five accidents in seven years, but three this week. I hope she just got into some bad trash. But I don't know.

And, as if yesterday's vehicle problems weren't enough," I thought this morning as I climbed into Steve's un-airconditioned Jeep to take Sarah to work, "it'd be pretty funny (NOT) if something went wrong with this one." I had to do some returns, follow the tow truck to Ron's garage, pick up some groceries, and call for a hair appointment. (With this shaggy mane in my face, my new name is Llasa ApZo.)

I discovered when starting to load the groceries into the back of the Jeep, the hatch doesn't work either.
I discovered that now, not only do the back right door and hatch not work, the right front door doesn't either.

Just as I was saying the words "as if they weren't enough," God quickened my spirit to the words of a song we sing at Passover. It's called "Dayenu," which means "it would have been enough." The song is upbeat, a prep to the hallel (praise) section of the haggadah during the seder. The words recount God's miracles to Israel. The Jews say, "it would have been enough if God had only taken us out of Egypt, but he parted the Red Sea. It would have been enough if He had parted the Red Sea, and not drowned the Egyptians behind us. It would have been enough if He had punished the Egyptians but not led us through the wilderness."

After singing 15 stanzas of "it would have been enough," one's heart can't help but have praise for God.

So I determined that I would come up with 15 stanzas (okay, one-liners) to help me see my car and canine problems from a posture of thanks and praise.

1. If God had only given us one good dog in our family, it would have been enough.
2. If God had not given us a second great dog after Lady, it would have been enough.
3. If God had only given us Molly for a little while to comfort us, it would have been enough.
4. If God had only given us Himself to comfort us, it would have been enough.
5. If God had only given us the van to take us everywhere we need to go, it would have been enough.
6. If God had only given us the Kia to take us everywhere we need to go, it would have been enough.
7. If God had only provided one honest auto technician ("don't call him a mechanic," says his wife), it would have been enough.
8. If God had only let us break down on the side of a safe road at dinnertime, it would have been enough.
9. If God had only chosen a produce stand for us to break down in front of, it would have been enough.
10. If God had chosen me to be a single mom with no one to call for help except Himself, it would have been enough.
11. If God had chosen a husband for me who had only compassion and no ability with jumper cables, it would have been enough.
12. If God had chosen a time for the van to break down when that compassionate husband with
jumper cables was not already close to the produce stand when we called him for help, it would have been enough.
13. If God had not provided a merciful care group member to bring Sarah home a few hours later, it would have been enough.
14. If Ben didn't have his own car, it would have been enough.
15. If I didn't have a blog, but only my mouth to praise God with for blessing us with sweet hounds and extra wheels, it would have been enough.

Dayenu!

Canine Comedy

Joel and I took our dog for a hike yesterday. He
wondered out loud what he'd print on a sign in the event Molly got lost.
Apparently our sweet canine has lost 36 dollars in monetary value since
my last Kidbits post about her. Poor girl. See what I mean: http://www.apenchantforpens.blogspot.com/.

Mutual Admiration Society

Joel and Molly have a great relationship. Even though she outweighs him by 30 pounds, she knows her order in the ranks around here. She may be the most videotaped dog in the land, at least by a (then) 4-year-old.