Winter Wonderland

Old Man Winter granted my wish! We woke up this morning to a beautiful winter wonderland. Seven inches or more of sparkling snow covers the ground as far as the eye can see. No use even trying to sleep in on a Saturday morning when we have all that white stuff out there calling our names! So, we layered on the clothes, coats, boots, hats and gloves and ventured out back to check on the donkeys.

One step off the porch and CRUNCH! A thick layer of ice is crusting the snow. Every step it's CRUNCH - sink, CRUNCH - sink, CRUNCH - sink, through the snow. The donkeys were all huddled together in the barn. Their feed trough and buckets were filled with snow, so we threw out some bales of hay and coaxed them out of their stall. It was hilarious to watch them walking in the snow, high-stepping it like Tennessee Walking Horses. Baby Chloe' seemed especially bewildered by the wierd white stuff with the crunch icing.

There are dozens of birds all around our feeders, some new ones I've never seen before, all sharing so politely and stuffing their beaks. I cut up some oranges, apples and pears and sprinkled bird seed on them and laid them on the ground and the birds just love the fresh fruit. Who knew? There's a big, fat Mockingbird that pecks at a pear, then hops over to an orange, back and forth like he can't make up his mind which tastes better. Back by the pond, you can see tracks where the deer have already come through, and other tracks that might be dog or coyote.

As we walked back to the house, Sid gets the bright idea to borrow the next-door neighbor kids' snow saucer. Oh Lord, this can't end well! Up the big hill he climbs, bright green saucer in hand and a big smile on his face. Surely he'll lose his nerve once he gets to the top, but no, here he comes flying down the hill like he's 10 years old, faster and faster until there's no controlling the slippery disc and POOF he's off into a ditch, end over end, legs in the air and snow flying everywhere. He gets up grinning like a kid at Disneyland but he's had enough and doesn't go for a second round. Good thing, cuz I don't think my nerves can take it!

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

As I sit here and type today, it's snowing like crazy outside and I'm loving it! I hope it snows all day and all night and we get at least 10 feet of this beautiful white stuff! It's so magical.

It's amazing how a little snow can make everything so pretty and change your outlook on the day. I think snow brings out the kid in all of us. It makes me long for racing down a hill on a slick innertube, rosy cheeked and bundled up, laughing hard and squealing with delight. Then trudging back up the hill to do it all over again!
Or ice skating on a frozen pond, snowmobiling through the woods, skiing down a real honest-to-goodness mountain! All those things from our days in Oregon I miss so much.

Here in the South, we're lucky to even get a dusting of this beautiful white stuff, and even luckier if it lasts more than a couple hours before melting away. Barely enough snow to build a snowman most of the time.

I'm whispering in Old Man Winter's ear for an Oregon snow kind of weekend. I hope he grants my wish!

The Good Old Days

One of my sweet friends from Oregon recently sent me an old recipe book she found when cleaning out her mother-in-law's home. It was printed back in 1932 and it's full of outlandish recipes, like Mock Chicken Legs, which are made from beef and ham; Scrapple, which entails boiling a whole pig's head until tender and then removing the meat and chopping it real fine (gross!), and Sardine Rarebit, which consists of sardines, eggs, milk, spices and cheese and is served over toast. Ick!

The fun thing about the book though, are all the advertisements displayed on every other page. There are ads from insurance agencies for home insurance for a "few cents a day!" Metropolitan Beauty Shop has several ads throughout with 100% genuine steam waves for only $5. No more faulty electric permanent waves for the housewife that values her cherished locks! There are ads for Butter-Krust Bread, Coca-Cola, Piggly Wiggly and appliance sales shops selling new-fangled electric refrigerators for only $164.50, delivered! A few pages further and you can see an ad from Ace Ice Co., where they say their ice refrigerators are a much better way to go than electric. The slowly melting ice "moistens the air and carries away bacteria, food odors and food gases" that in the other types of refrigeration cannot escape.

The Park Lane Hotel has ads for $3 a night, or $65 a month. One patron bragged, "As a final touch of courtesy, even my cigar was lighted for me by the bellhop!" Well la-ti-da! Deer Rock Water Co., advertises they'll deliver a dozen half-gallon bottles of distilled water right to your door for only 75 cents! What a bargain! A home improvement store says they'll wallpaper a 10 x 12 room of your home for only $3.98, materials and labor included.

Sears, Roebuck & Co., has an ad for a Kenmore DeLuxe wringer washer and it has a picture of a little boy standing next to it. The headline for the ad says, "My Mother is Pretty and Young - She Uses a Kenmore DeLuxe!" The bottom of the ad quotes the little boy saying, "Dad bought our Kenmore because he likes to have Mother looking young. Mother lets me look inside it sometimes. The suds keep swishing through the clothes and it even gets my shirts clean! She says she's 'stonished' cause the Kenmore gets clothes cleaner and still doesn't cost hardly anything to run." Oh boy!

There's an ad for a carpet cleaning service that asks, "Do Your Children Romp on the Floor?" Silly question! What child doesn't "romp" on the floor! The Geo. Meyer Hardware co., has several ads for various household items, including an entire set of cookware for only $2.10! What a steal! And a Tearless Mincer for chopping onions for only 69 cents. They have a hand-held mixer/beater with a green glass bowl for only $1. I bet you couldn't find one of those in an antique store nowadays for less than $45!

Golden Gold Pet Food has ads for pet food that comes in a can and is good for cats AND dogs. The Carlson-Frink Milk Company advises a child should drink at least a quart of their fine milk a day, and adults at least a pint! And after you're done drinking all that milk, a drugstore advertises Alk-a-Mint alkaline powder. They say it stops acidity, gas, bad breath, sour stomach and heartburn and it's only 25 cents.

In the back of the book there are tips on proper etiquette, and there's even a 28-day "reducing" plan for the housewife who finds she can't quite button her skirt as easily as she used to. There's a budgeting plan for newly-married couples that is astonishing (and depressing!). Apparently back then, people didn't make much because it has a chart that shows monthly incomes ranging from $125 to $400 and how you should budget accordingly to make it through the month. Good grief! For instance, on $125 per month, they suggest you put $20 into savings, set aside $30 for food, $30 for shelter, $18 for clothing and $27 for operating and advancement. Yikes! Good thing those economic times are a thing of the past, at least for now (knock on wood!). Heaven forbid when the newly-married couple starts having kids!

It was fun reading, and while I might not be trying some of those crazy recipes anytime soon, I did at least get a few good household tips for cooking and cleaning. And thanks to the etiquette tips, I now know when I wear long gloves to dinner, I mustn't turn them back and roll them down at the wrist when eating, but remove them entirely! Good to know, right ladies?

A few of my favorite things. . .

My family, friends and loved ones; snow falling; naps on weekends; the smell of rain; long, hot showers; baby animals; thrift stores and antique malls; the smile in my Mom's voice; holding hands; roasting marshmallows; counting the stars; walking on the beach; king-size beds; electric blankets; pleasant surprises; my sister's silly sense of humor; my husband's cologne; traveling to new places; the music of birds singing; fresh baked bread; security and peacefulness; fuzzy slippers; the sound of the ocean; feeling loved; a decaf soy latte'; the smell of my Mom's perfume; my Daddy singing; reading; and chocolate!

Aging Disgracefully

My Mom forwarded me this funny poem one of her friends had emailed her about forgetfulness. I'm sure it was originally intended for a much more "seasoned" reader, and by that I mean people over the age of 60. I'm only 29 myself (wink wink), so I was slightly unnerved that she forwarded it to me. However, after reading the poem and much to my dismay, I was appalled to realize how much I could relate! Am I already approaching the age of memory loss, denture creams and orthopedic footwear? What a terrifying realization! I've already succumbed to writing myself reminder notes, plucking gray hairs and countless tubes and bottles of an assortment of wrinkle creams. I even dared to try on some reading glasses at the pharmacy the other night, but they weren't very flattering on me, so I convinced myself I didn't really need them after all. Maybe I should stop back by again and look into that vitamin supplement that's supposed to improve brain function. And while I'm at it, it probably wouldn't hurt to buy a book of crossword puzzles or that dratted sudoku to exercise my mind. I might even go ahead and grab that pair of reading glasses too. Necessity over vanity for early prevention, right? Anyway, here's the poem. If you find yourself relating to it as well, all I can say to cheer you up is, "You're only as old as you feel!"

Forgetter Be Forgotten

My forgetter's getting better,
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke

For when I'm "here" I'm wondering
If I really should be "there"
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!

Oft times I walk into a room,
Say "what am I here for?"
I wrack my brain, but all in vain!
A zero is my score.

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is generally me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say "Hi!" and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, "Who the heck was that?"

Yes, my forgetter's getting better
While my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke!

Muddy Sunday

Yesterday, I did a really stupid thing. I don't know what in the world I was thinking. For those of you who don't already know it, we have three donkeys on our little farm. Their names are Cooter (the Daddy), Clementine (the Mama,) and Chloe' (the Baby) who is six months old. I went outside to fill their water trough and usually I put some food in their buckets first to distract them and keep them occupied on the other side of the barn. For some reason though, I got the bright idea to hand-feed them some treats in hopes of coaxing Baby Chloe' into letting me brush all the mud out of her fur. So, I entered their inner sanctum loaded down with a bag of apples in one hand and a brush and bag of carrots in the other.

No sooner had I stepped out into the barnyard and Baby Chloe' peeked her furry little head around the side of the barn and spotted me. She came running and grunting, followed by her Mama. Then here came old Cooter running at a full charge right at me and I went into complete panic mode! Only problem was, my boots were stuck in about six inches of mud and I couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Apples and carrots went flying and I got knocked down right into the mud. My life flashed before my eyes and I just knew I was going to get trampled to death by three rambunctious jackasses!

Miracle of all miracles, somehow when I opened my eyes, I was still intact. Apparently as soon as Cooter saw I had fallen down, he knew he was in BIG trouble because he took off to hide around the other side of the barn. Clementine and Chloe' however, were standing close by just staring at me and munching on the carrots that were scattered all over the ground. I'm sure Baby Chloe' was thinking, "Hmmmm, this is a new game. What's our funny human doing laying in the mud?"

By this time, my husband figured out something bad was going on and he wanted to know if I was okay and what the heck had happened. I told him Cooter had knocked me down and then he started scolding me about how I had no business being inside that barnyard with three unpredictable animals! Okay, okay! I know it was stupid of me. Give me a break! I was covered in mud, my leg, shoulder, hip (and pride) hurt, and I felt like an idiot!

In the meantime, the trough was filled, the treats were devoured and I even managed to brush all the tangles out of Baby Chloe's hair. I think she felt sorry for me, so she stood real still and let me get all her tangles out. Either that or she was waiting for me to continue our funny game of rolling around in the mud.

This morning when I woke up, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. My leg is swollen, I can't lift my left arm above my shoulder, my hip hurts so bad I could hardly lift my leg to put my jeans on, and I have a big bruise on my shin where I hit the trough on the way down. Why in the world did I ever think living on a farm and keeping animals would be fun? My husband is right, I have no business trying to be a farm girl. I'm a hopeless klutz and every animal we've ever owned figures out a way to outsmart me. We need to move to the city and get me a goldfish or two. Surely I can't get into any trouble with a harmless goldfish, can I?

The Journey, by Anonymous 1909

You's gotter hab some trouble in dis rough ol' world ob ours,
You's gotter fight de bumble bee, sometimes to pick de flowers;
You's gwinter fin' a heap o' roughness in de rocky road,
Befo' you gits wha' you kin rest an' lay aside de load.
But be humble, an' don' grumble,
'Case you sometimes slip an' stumble,
An' seems to drap behin' de res' ob all de hustlin' throng,
Don't stop an' staht a-whinin'
An' a-whimperin' an' a-pinin',
But pick yoh feet up, honey, an' go travellin' along.

You may hab fears o' troubles dat'll hit yo' hard some day,
But dar's wusser boun' to ketch yo' if yo' halts along de way.
You's gotter keep a-movin'. Some is fast and some is slow,
But all dat's looked foh from you is to do de best you know.
So don't you wait an' worry,
Ef you falls down in yoh hurry,
An' never mind the chaffin'
An' de hollerin' an' de laughin',
Jes' pull yohse'f together as you hums a little song,
But pick yoh feet up, honey, and go travellin' along.

Downward Dog Anyone?

Today is Yoga Day USA. No doubt my beautiful sister, who is also a certified yoga instructor, is teaching a class today and reminding everyone to take deep breaths. She's tried and tried to teach me a few poses and get me interested in what has become a passion of hers, but I'm not convinced that my short, uncoordinated self was made for yoga. She, on the other hand, is tall and graceful and can bend and twist herself into some of the most remarkable and impressive poses. And all with a smile on her face! I however, grunt and squeak, huff and puff, moan and groan and fail miserably trying to accomplish what she makes look so utterly simple.

The word Yoga means "to join or yoke together" and it brings the body and mind together into one harmonious experience. The whole system of Yoga is built on three main structures: exercise, breathing and meditation. Breath is the source of life in the body and exercise and breathing prepare the body and mind for meditation to quiet the mind and allow silence and healing from everyday stress. It sure sounds like Yoga would be beneficial to me and Lord knows I need all the help I can get to alleviate stress, but the few times I've tried it, I become so frustrated with my inability and ultimate klutziness that I fall onto my mat in defeat!

Once, while we were on vacation in Myrtle Beach, she offered to give Mom and I a few "wake-up" lessons every morning. She brought each of us our own mats and we carried them out to the balcony of our condo with high hopes of transformation!

The art of Yoga is made up of various poses. Each pose has an official Sanskrit name, but all of them have an alternative name that for the average person like me, is much easier to pronounce and remember. Almost every pose is named after an animal or object. I get the impression the poses are named for what they are supposed to resemble while doing them. For instance, there's the Cobra pose, which looks exactly like a cobra with it's head up and ready to strike. There's a Tree pose, Sphinx, One-Legged Pigeon, Dolphin, Eagle and Frog. There's a Feathered Peacock pose that has you balancing on your elbows with your body up in the air and leaning against a wall, legs fanned out like a peacock's feathers. The Fish is a pose supposedly named this because if you can do the pose in water, you float like a fish. There's a Camel pose, but I honestly don't see the resemblance in any way. Downward Dog, Warrior and Cow (inappropriate in my opinion, for a room full of women like me stuffed into a silly leotard!) The two most impossible looking poses are the Crane and Firefly, where you balance your full body weight on your arms as if in flight. I will NEVER in my LIFE be able to do either of those poses! There's another difficult pose called The Wild Thing and the poetic translation of this pose is "the ecstatic unfolding of the enraptured heart." For me, more like a "ruptured" heart! Ugh!'

My precious and patient sister spent her mornings on that balcony showing us what I'm sure were supposed to be fairly simple, beginner poses and even though I'm sure we were her most difficult students, she continued to encourage us the whole way. What was meant to be a quiet, peaceful period of morning meditation to start our day was instead filled with me making funny noises, failing to breathe properly then gasping for breath before I turned blue. I kept thinking "I sure hope there's no one watching us from the condos across the water because they're surely getting a show and a half with me flopping around on this mat like a fish out of water!"

The final poses of our sessions, I'm proud to say, I mastered completely! Only because they are the absolute easiest, for cooling down. Mountain Pose (where you basically just stand there. . . Hey! I can do this!) and Up the Wall where you scoot up to a wall and place your legs up the wall. Simple! And the easiest of all, Corpse pose, which is exactly as it sounds: laying flat on your back in total relaxation, dead tired from your workout! I can DEFINITELY do this one!

History Lesson

The Civil War wasn't something I knew anything about before we moved to Tennessee. If we learned about it in school, I don't remember. I couldn't tell you the difference between Confederate or Union and I didn't know who was being referred to when I'd hear someone say, "That dang Yankee!"

Living here now, I'm surrounded by history and you can't help but learn more and more as you immerse yourself in the historical surroundings. There are parks and museums all across this county we now call home, and old cemeteries and monuments. Lots of informational, historical markers are placed along the sides of the roads and you can pull over and get a mini history lesson reading them. You can see old homesteads that once were thriving plantations with their little log and stone slave cabins, some preserved and still standing. Stacked stone fences line the properties and weave through treelines. They call them "slave fences" because the majority of them were built by the slaves, and they are works of art in themselves to realize the many hours it took to stack all those heavy stones so perfectly straight and sturdily that they still stand today. In fact, I've been told it's now against the law to disrupt one of the fences or even to remove a stone from one without having to pay a minimum $5,000 fine!

Franklin itself was founded in 1799 and named for Benjamin Franklin. The Civil War brought many changes to the tiny town. In the mid 1800's, the area had been under Federal (Union/Yankee) occupation for four years with troops stationed at Fort Granger, just across the Harpeth River. In 1862, over 40,000 Federal soldiers passed through Franklin on their way to the Fort.

The Battle of Franklin, one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, was fought right here in November of 1864. More than 6,000 Confederate soldiers and over 2,000 Union troops were killed during that battle, which lasted less than five hours. The Carnton Plantation, owned by one of the more prominent families in town at the time - The McGavocks - had been taken over by Federal troops prior to the battle, and afterward served as a hospital for the wounded. Five slain generals were laid out on the covered porch and a Confederate Cemetery was established on the farm to give the southern soldiers a final resting place. It's amazing to think that the big, beautiful mansions I pass on the way into work every day once served as hospitals for the wounded troops because there was nowhere else for them to go. Beautiful homes taken over for such terrible pain and suffering.

One Halloween I went on a ghost tour sponsored by the local historical society and we got to tour the Carnton Plantation house and grounds. We were given a history lesson of the events that took place that fateful day and got to walk across the porch where the generals had been laid out. Inside the house, we were led to a bedroom upstairs that had been temporarily converted into a surgery center for the wounded soldiers and the guide showed us the bloodstains that still remain on the wooden floorboards. He told us how the amputated limbs were thrown out the window until they piled so high they nearly reached the second story of the home. After the home tour, we went back outside to tour the grounds and cemetery by lantern light. It was an eerie feeling being surrounded by 200 year old oak trees and the headstones of thousands of soldiers, some mere boys and teens, who'd lost their lives too early in life. It's no wonder there are so many ghost sightings and hauntings documented in this area.

So, as I'm still learning about the history of Franklin, I can drive down a street that I now know was named for one of those generals that led in the battle. I can go to the park on the hill overlooking the actual battlefield and look down toward the cemetery where the soldiers now lay. The same hill they walked down from on their way to the battle. It makes you so much more prideful of this tiny town and respectful of all it's endured.

Rainy Day Hair Day

Yesterday it rained. . . All. Day. Long. I'm not complaining though, because I love the rain. Okay, I did complain a little bit on Facebook first thing that morning because I couldn't find my umbrella anywhere and got totally drenched on my way into the office, but I got over it. Who cares if my hair was flat as a pancake and I looked like a drowned rat. I'm not out to win any beauty contests at work anyway. Good thing, since I wouldn't win one even if I didn't have flat hair! But back to the rain. . . It was one of those "I wish I was a kid again" kind of days. I used to love to play in the rain. When I was a little girl, I had a red raincoat and matching rubber boots and I'd splash and splash in the mud puddles. My sister and I had cute little bubble umbrellas with colored stripes around the bottoms and we thought they were the grandest! I loved taking long walks in the rain. I could walk forever without a care in the world. It was that kind of walking-in-the rain day yesterday. Not coming down in buckets and not so cold out that you couldn't stand it. The wind wasn't blowing so hard it would turn your umbrella inside out and there were lots of mud puddles to splash in along the way. If I had had my umbrella, I would have walked on my lunch break, but I remembered I left it in my sister's car the last time she came up for a visit. Aha! I guess SHE'S to blame for my bad hair day! Since rain is in the forecast for the rest of the week, I better stop at Walgreens for a new umbrella on my way into work. Maybe they'll have a cute little bubble one with a red stripe around the bottom!

Ewwwwww!

Okay, what was God thinking when he created bugs? What in the world do we need spiders for? Eight hairy legs to creep and crawl around scaring people all the time? Why? And what good are centipedes, scorpions, flies or ants? How about earwigs? And why in the world are they called earwigs? What are mosquitoes good for? Beatles, cockroaches or wasps? I just don't understand it. Was He upset with us the day He created all these creepy crawlies? Now cute, fuzzy caterpillars and beautiful, bright colored butterflies I can understand, and I do realize without bees we'd have no honey, but spiders? The only thing spiders are good for (in my opinion) are spinning those beautiful webs you see sparkling with dew along the fences in the mornings. I must admit, those are works of art. And yes, I did love Charlotte's Web as a kid, but still, I don't like spiders and whenever I see one I just want it gone! Smush it, scoop it up and flush it, take it down the road and throw it in the ditch, I don't care as long as it's gone!

Olallie by Golly!

All that talk about fishing on Saturday made me think of our trips to another favorite spot in Oregon, Olallie (oh-la-lee) Lake. My parents took us there when we were very little. The lake was way up on top of a mountain near Mt. Jefferson, and I remember it always seemed to take us forever to get there. The last several miles up the mountain were on gravel roads so it was a long and slow drive. There were cute little rustic cabins dotted here and there to stay in, or you could camp in a tent. And when I say rustic, I mean rustic! No running water, no electricity, just old fashioned hurricane lamps or lanterns for light, screens on the windows (no glass), screen doors, cots to sleep on and propane stoves to cook on (if you were lucky). No phone service, no showers, no flushing toilets. . . nothing! You had to get your water from the lake in buckets. I've heard the resort has been updated in recent years, but not by much.

The lake was pretty big and full of trout and no motorboats were allowed, only rowboats, canoes and paddleboats, which you could rent from the general store. I can remember being very young one trip and my sister and I found some blueberry bushes close to our cabin, so Mom gave us a bowl and we picked blueberries for her to make pancakes for breakfast. There were tons of chipmunks everywhere and they'd come up and eat potato chips right out of your hand.

One year our grandparents came from Oklahoma for a visit and we took them to the lake for vacation. I don't recall much from that vacation because we were so small, but two memories will always stick with me. One thing I remember is my Prampa catching about a kazillion fish! Seems like every time he threw his line in the water, he caught a rainbow trout. To this day, he says it was one of his favorite fishing trips ever. The second memory I have is a vivid one, only because it was extremely painful! Mom and Grandma decided us girls should all go on a walk around the lake, so my sister and I took up our big sticks to "clear the way through the jungle" and we headed out. Tiff and I hacked away at bushes and tall grass, small trees; anything in the path we could chop down with our mighty sticks. We came up to an old log that crossed the path and gave it a good wallop with our sticks and the most awful thing happened! A huge swarm of bees came flying out of that old stump and started stinging us everywhere! Poor Grandma (who never wore pants, only dresses) had bees flying up her dress stinging her legs. All four of us girls were screaming and running and swatting at bees all the way back to the cabin. Tiff was covered in stings, as she got the worse of it. Prampa had stayed back at the cabin and when we all got back there crying and covered in bee stings, Grandma grabbed a pie tin and told him, "Marvin! Get to chewing some tabacky and spit it in this here pan right now!" Prampa was overjoyed to be given permission to chew his forbidden tabacky! He chewed and chewed and spit and spit and Grandma dipped a cloth into the tobacco juice and spread it all over our bee stings. I'll never forget that trip, for sure!

I only remember going there one other time, later in life when I was in my early 20's. My Daddy and stepmother, one of my stepsisters and her husband and baby, were all there ahead of us. Sid and I had to wait and drive up after we got off work, so by the time we headed out, it was already dark. The further you got up that mountain, the darker it got, until you could hardly see your hand in front of your face. It was a scary drive, for sure. The walk from the parking area to the cabin was the longest I've ever taken. Every step you took was a step of faith because we had nothing to light our way at all. When we finally made it to the cabin, everyone was pretty much settled down for the night. My stepsister and her husband were sleeping on the floor in the front of the cabin, right inside the screen door. Daddy and his wife were sleeping on cots toward the back of the cabin and had saved a cot across from them for Sid and I. We got situated as best we could and fell into the cot. I remember just laying there in the pitch black listening to the frogs and crickets chirping and looking out the nearest screened window for any glimpse of light; a star, the moon, anything! The cots were the worse and we kept tossing and turning trying to get comfortable.

It seemed like forever had passed and soon everything was silent. Even the crickets had stopped chirping. All of a sudden I heard the most awful, tormented, long drawn-out wail echo across the lake! The hair instantly stood up on every part of my body and I was so petrified that I could hardly breathe! I can't begin to describe that terrifying sound. Part animal and part human and all I could think was that Bigfoot was coming to eat us all up! I laid so still and could literally hear my heart pounding out of my chest. It seemed like no one else had heard the terrible cry, only me. Everyone else was sound asleep. When I finally got my breath back, I tried to wake up Daddy but he told me not to worry, to go on back to sleep. Yeah, right! I laid there wide-eyed and terrified! No way was I going to sleep with Bigfoot right outside our cabin! A little while later I heard this awful CLANG! BANG! CRASH! and thought for sure we were all goners. It sounded like it was right outside our cabin and I kept straining my eyes to that window above our cot for a glimpse of what surely would be a 20 foot tall hairy creature with glowing red eyes and long sharp teeth staring back down at me! Daddy assured me it was just racoons knocking over a garbage can, but my imagination was already on frantic overload! About that time, I heard a big commotion from the front of the cabin and turned my head to see a big figure standing right inside the screen door. Oh no! Bigfoot is here, in our cabin! But it was only my stepsister's six-foot-tall husband, who was up for some reason and had tripped over something (probably my poor stepsister!) on his way back to his sleeping bag. How much more of this could I stand?

I don't know how, but I finally managed to fall asleep and the next day it was so reassuring to see the campground and all our surroundings in full daylight. We were so disoriented having arrived in the black of night like that, and I think that added to my hysteria. The next day when we all could sit around and talk about what I'd heard the night before, Daddy tried to reassure me it was probably just an elk calling his mate across the lake, but I'm thoroughly convinced it was Bigfoot. Even now, thinking of that terrifying scream gives me goosebumps and makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck! Today, I don't think you could PAY me to go back for a night at Olallie Lake. I might make a day trip out of it, but I'm getting the heck out of there before the sun goes down, that's for sure!

Giggles & Gadgets

My husband got a new computer for Christmas and he's still finding features and programs we never knew we had. Last night he found this program called Microsoft Life Cam and when he clicked on it, the screen was filled with a live shot of himself sitting there in his chair in front of the computer. On the right side of the screen was a list of gadgets you could click on to alter your appearance on the screen and he was totally cracking me up clicking from gadget to gadget.

One click and he had a big, floppy cowboy hat on. Another click and he had bunny ears and a powder puff nose. Click and he had a bright pink Lady Gaga wig on. Click, clown face. Click, kitty cat mask. Click and he had question marks floating above his head. Click, a light bulb appeared. Click again and he was a pretty princess with a sparkly tiara. Click and he was Marie Antoinette with a white powdered wig and a heart shaped beauty mark on his cheek. It was cracking me up and I could not stop giggling.

No telling what else this fancy computer can do! Maybe he'll find a feature that folds the laundry for me or washes the dishes! Now wouldn't that be nice!

Monkey Business

We have this neighbor named Vance who's as redneck as they come. If you look up the word "redneck" in the dictionary, there's surely a picture of him right beside it. He's bowlegged as Yosemite Sam, has a long, handlebar mustache and such a strong, southern accent that half the time you don't fully comprehend exactly what it is he's trying to say. He's the nicest guy in the world and he'd give you the shirt off his back. He knows anything and everything about horses and cattle and he's the "go-to" guy on the hollow for anything we need in regards to our donkeys.

One time he told us a hilarious story about a pet monkey he once won in a poker game. If you knew Vance, you'd never believe in a million years he'd have a pet monkey, but he did. He used to keep the monkey in a cage in his barn and whenever he was out there working with horses, he'd let the monkey out to follow him around and keep him company. This monkey loved to drink beer and every chance he got he'd tip back a bottle that was left unattended.

One day Vance headed down to the barn to work with a horse that hadn't been haltered yet. He let the monkey out and headed to the tack room to get a beer out of the fridge. There was only one beer left, so he had to be careful not to let the monkey get it away from him. Every time he set it down, the monkey would make his way over to it and try to take a drink. Vance kept taking it away and the moneky was getting madder and madder by the minute.

In the meantime, Vance was trying to put the halter on this stubborn horse and the horse wasn't cooperating one single bit. The more Vance struggled with it, the worse the situation got. The monkey tried to take advantage of Vance's preoccupation with the horse and reached for the beer again, but luckily Vance caught hold of the bottle before the monkey could take a swig. If looks could kill, poor Vance would've been dead because that monkey was practically shooting poisonous darts with his eyes! Just as Vance finally got the halter on the horse's head and reached his arm over it's neck to fasten it on, that vengeful monkey came flying down on top of that horse's head and grabbed hold of it's upper lip with both hands squealing and shrieking like a wild banshee! The next thing you know the horse is rearing up wildly and Vance is flying through the air!

Once the dust had settled and a hush came over the barn, all you could see was a hole the size of Vance's head in the ceiling of the barn, a monkey in the corner of the rafters looking down, a horse wild-eyed and breathing hard in the stall and poor old Vance laying flat on his back with an empty beer bottle laying next to him in the dirt. Needless to say, Vance found that monkey a new home the next day!

Let's go fishing!

I sure miss our weekend fishing trips in Oregon. Some weekend mornings I'll wake up and think how much fun it would be if we could load up the truck and head over the mountains for a day of trout fishing. Our absolute favorite place we used to always go was the Ochoco Resevoir in Prineville. As soon as I got out of school on Friday, Sid would come pick me up and we'd load up all our camping gear and head out. We wouldn't come home again until as late as possible on Sunday night.

As soon as we got over the mountain, you could roll down the window and breathe in that wonderful smell of juniper and pine. There was this nice campground right near the resevoir and we'd pitch our tent and build a fire. Sid would get all our fishing gear ready for the next morning and we'd set the alarm on a watch we carried with us and crawl inside our sleeping bags. The next morning we'd get up before the sun and off we went.

There was this little store/diner at the top of the resevoir where we'd buy our bait and have breakfast. This sweet elderly couple owned the place and they'd make us a nice breakfast and see us off. The resevoir had huge boulders all the way down to the water's edge and you had to climb all the way down to find a good spot. We'd stay there and fish from morning to night catching trout and kokanee salmon left and right. There's nothing like pulling in a feisty trout! I'd practically hyperventilate every time I hooked one and reeled it in. The squeals and grunts and animated noises I'd make cracked Sid up. My heart would beat 90 miles per hour and I'd smile so wide my jaws hurt at the end of a day. One time I got so excited I forgot to reel! I just yanked real hard on my pole and the poor fish came flying up onto the bank. Sid said, "Jeez Tone, you almost ripped it's lips off!" I loved it!

When it got too dark to see, We'd head back up the boulders and to the little cafe' for dinner. Then back to the campground again to fall back into our sleeping bags to rest up for another big day of fishing.

It was always so peaceful there. Hardly anyone else was ever there and you could listen to the birds and critters call to each other in the woods, watch the reflection of the clouds in the sky across the top of the water, breathe in the clean air and pull in fish after fish. When Sunday came, we hated to go back home.

I wish we could find a nice spot like that here in Tennessee. We've been fishing here, but not for trout. It's mostly bass and catfish and they just aren't as fun to catch or as plentiful. And it seems like we have so many different obstacles to be wary of here; chiggers and ticks, skeeters the size of hummingbirds, copperhead snakes and water moccasins. We had the occasional rattlesnake in Oregon, but not so bad that you were scared away and I don't remember ever having to carry bug spray with us there!

We have so many good memories of our weekend trips to Prineville. I wish it wasn't such a long drive today. We'd pack up the truck and be on our way! Wouldn't that be fun? I can almost smell the juniper now!

The Art of Collecting

What compels people to collect the things they do? Is it something in their personality that attracts them to a particular item? Is it an obsession to possess that can't be fulfilled? I remember my first collection started when I was about seven or eight years' old. I collected bottle caps and had hundreds of them. I kept them in a box under my bed. Why I ever started collecting them, I don't know, but everywhere I walked I was on the lookout. On a walk to or from school, I always found several good keepers.

Over the years I've had many collections. At one time I had nearly 100 different china teacups, all different patterns and designs. Why teacups? I don't even like to drink tea! I barely had room to display them all, but everywhere we went I was always on the search for more and everyone was always giving me a new one as a gift.

After a visit to my Grandma's house and seeing a particular painting on her wall of a dutch windmill, I became obsessed with all things windmill! I collected windmill pictures, postcards, plates, candlesticks, knick knacks, textiles, sheet music. I still to this day have most of my windmill treasures all throughout the house.

I started collecting antique books when I was in my early 20's and came across a garage sale at the coast. The elderly lady having the sale had hundreds of books on shelves all around the walls of her garage and I noticed some of them had beautiful illustrations of victorian women on the covers. I asked her about them and she agreed to sell them to me for $2 each! I was elated and came away with several sacks full of antique novels dating back to the late 1800's and early 1900's. This was just the beginning of what is still one of my most treasured collections and I now have hundreds of them lining the shelves in our house.

Some of the illustrations on the book covers led me to start collecting artwork by a particular artist of that time period. I started researching the artist and collecting anything I could find with his illustrations. I'm always on the hunt for new pieces of his work that I don't have yet.

I once collected antique skeleton keys. My Mom had given me one once that had "Key to My Heart" engraved on one side and from then on, whenever I found old skeleton keys in an antique store or online, I'd buy them up. I've collected old jars, vintage mixing bowls, a particular pattern of depression glass that my Mom got me started on, vintage kitchen utensils and wooden spoons. Some of the collections I've parted with along the way, but our tiny house is still filled with my most treasured items that I'll probably always keep.

I've come to realize I'm descended from a long line of packrats, which probably explains my obsession with collecting. My Prampa has always been a packrat and his house, barn, garage and sheds are filled to the rafters with everything imagineable. Same with my Mom, although I must say she's toned her collecting down over the years, only due to the fact that her living space is limited since she moved in with Prampa.

I guess it could be worse. I could have been obsessed with collecting painted toenail clippings or belly button lint! I'm sure even then I would have come up with a unique way of displaying them as works of art!

My Husband is a NUT!

Anyone who knows my husband, knows what a practical joker he is. It's never a dull moment when he's around, and not a day goes by when I don't laugh because of something he's done or said. He can whoop out one-liners and zingers quick as a whip and no one is safe from his sarcastic wit and corny sense of humor.

He is constantly playing tricks on co-workers and loves to scare people, then laughs uncontrolably afterward. His laugh is infectious and you can't help but laugh along. He sings along with the radio when we're driving down the road and changes all the words to the songs. He's a total goofball and imitates Scooby Doo and Donald Duck perfectly.

And did I mention what a practical joker he is? Sometimes he amuses himself at my expense when he can't sleep at night. I'll be sound asleep and he'll be pinching my nose shut so I can't breathe or sticking his finger in my ear until I wake up and swat his hand away. I'll never forget this one time I was asleep and dreaming that I was sitting in a chair in this small, square room, up against a wall that was completely covered with double-sided tape. My chair was apparently too close to the wall because my hair kept getting stuck to the tape, so I kept scooting my chair forward to get my hair unstuck from the wall. This went on for what seemed like forever and no matter how many times I moved my chair, my hair kept getting stuck in the tape!

For whatever reason (probably total frustration!) I woke myself up and as I laid there in the pitch dark I sensed my husband was awake and felt his arm slowly coming up towards my head. Sure enough, he grabbed a single strand of my hair and yanked it out, holding his breath and giggling silently, trying not to laugh out loud. No wonder I was dreaming about my hair being pulled by that tape-covered wall! I kept as quiet as a mouse and carefully pulled my elbow forward to wait for him to reach for another strand of hair. As soon as I felt his arm poised over my head again, I launched my elbow back as hard as I could and got him right in the gut! He was so not expecting my move and it felt like my elbow sunk all the way through his stomach! He let out a big "oooompfffff" and as soon as he caught his breath, he said "How long have you been awake?" I said, "How long have you been pulling my hair out by the roots!?" Then I told him about my dream and we laid there and laughed for half an hour! What a brat!

They say laughter is the best medicine, so I guess I have him to thank for my good health. Thanks for the giggles, sweetie! Keep 'em coming!

Inspired

My neighbor's daughter Liz just got done being a contestant on last season's The Biggest Loser on NBC. She lost almost 100 pounds and was one of the final four contestants to survive elimination. Her partner on the show, Danny, was the ultimate winner.

Watching their grueling workouts on television didn't begin to give the viewer an inkling into what those poor contestants went through on a day-to-day basis. Their every waking minute of every single day was spent exercising extensively. According to Liz, they woke up at 5:30 every morning and walked 4-5 miles. Then they had breakfast and walked another 4-5 miles. After that, they went into the gym and worked out with two tyranical and torturous trainers for 3-4 hours. If they survived this, then they got to break for lunch, but how the poor souls even had the strength to lift a fork to their mouths, I don't know!

After lunch, it was back to the gym for another 3-4 hours of nonstop, sweat-drenching exercise. Treadmills, stairclimbers, weight lifting, rowing machines. You name it, they had to do it. I would have been long dead after the second five-mile walk earlier that morning! Release for dinner and then after that, a 5-7 mile walk before falling into bed. And I'm sure they literally FELL into bed. How did they manage to get up the next day?

It's no wonder they lost so much weight every week with this kind of daily routine. There's not enough time in a day for the average person to abide by this kind of extreme workout, especially if they have a job to work 8-10 hours a day too! Sheesh! I have no business complaining about my measly little exercise routine every day, that's for sure! As I huff and puff and sweat my way through it, I'll be thinking of Liz and all that she has accomplished (and continues to accomplish!). Way to go Liz! You're an inspiration to us all.

Answered Prayers

My beautiful sister gave me a book years ago called "Answered Prayers - Love Letters from The Divine" by Julia Cameron. Each chapter of the book is an entry written as though it's from God, answering a prayer someone has prayed. This one was especially appropriate as I begin this blogging adventure, telling stories that may or may not be especially interesting, but nonethless are stories from my heart. Here's God's answer to my prayer, as told by the author. . .

You are a story with no listener. You are lonely, longing to share your tale. Pay attention to what I say. I am the Great Listener. I long to hear your thoughts and feelings. I am hungry to hear your heart. Bring me the small stories you have noticed. Bring me the grand adventures you have endured. Your life is the story I like best. Share your life with me. Allow me to be your witness. Allow me to be your listening ear. Do not censor what you tell me. Bring me everything. I am hungry for it all. I love the stories that you tell. You surprise and delight me. Your actions fascinate me. You are the focus of my heart, my favorite story unfolding.

Do not be afraid that you bore me. I made you. Nothing about you is boring to me. Do not be afraid you tire me. I am tireless and always ready to listen. Find your voice. Clear your throat and speak to me easily. I am enchanted by you and all that you tell. Your words are more precious to me than any coins. Your thoughts are more valued than any jewels. Tell me your story. Unspool for me your lovely heart.

"Now" by Charles R. Skinner, 1909

If you have hard work to do, do it now.
Today the skies are clear and blue,
Tomorrow clouds may come in view,
Yesterday is not for you;
Do it now.

If you have a song to sing, sing it now.
Let the notes of gladness ring
Clear as song of bird in spring,
Let every day some music bring;
Sing it now.

If you have kind words to say, say them now.
Tomorrow may not come your way,
Do a kindness while you may,
Loved ones will not always stay;
Say them now.

If you have a smile to show, show it now.
Make hearts happy, roses grow,
Let the friends around you know
The love you feel before they go;
Show it now.

Backyard Buffet

I could spend hours watching (and listening to) the birds at our feeders in the yard. Especially this time of year when the cold weather brings so many different varieties. They eat all day long and some of them are so fat I'm surprised they can fly. At one given time you can look out the kitchen window and see tiny black-capped chickadees flitting from one feeder to another, the adorable gray tufted titmice with their big black eyes and spiky crowns on their heads. Bright red male cardinals and their mousy brown females, white-throated sparrows, bronze colored grackle with iridescent blue heads, grosbeaks and finch, warblers and the obnoxious and noisy, pesky starlings that are also iridescent with purples and greens and blues, but sometimes take over the yard.

The red-breasted nuthatch are so cute with their black eyeliner that extends from their pointy beaks over their eyes and onto the side of their heads. They have pale orange colored bellies and hang upside down to eat. The red-bellied woodpecker is one of my favorites and I hung a special feeder just for him and he's the only one that feasts there. It's actually a corn feeder for a squirrel, but I've never once seen a squirrel climb up there to eat. My woodpecker does though. I put a cob of corn there and within a week he'll strip the entire cob clean. Why they call him a red-bellied woodpecker I'll never know because his belly is white and it's his head that is bright red. His back and wings are black spotted.

The mourning doves cover the ground and catch all the seed that falls from the feeders, and after they're done eating they fly up into the branches of the trees and coo to each other. All the birds sing their beautiful songs to me, thanking me for their feast.

Starting New Again. . .

The first week of January didn't start us off with a very good year, what with our precious dog Jake passing away and all. Now that we've started the healing process and our grief is subsiding, I suppose it's time for me to get in gear and take down all the Christmas decorations. While I'm at it, maybe I can psych myself up to tackling a couple more of those pesky New Year's resolutions I had originally intended on keeping. Diet (again!), exercise more intensely (ugh), learn how to sew (good grief), and put some of my birthday/Christmas gifts to use in my first attempt at baking fresh, homeade bread (yum, but that works against the diet and exercise, doesn't it?).

I guess I'll bundle up and start outside, taking down the wreaths and garlands and greenery. Then I'll come back in and thaw out with a nice cup of hot cider and start taking down the tree and stockings, put away all the snowmen and pack it all up nicely until we need it again next year.

Deep, cleansing breaths to clear my head and re-start the beginning of 2010. Here I go. . .

Tracks in the Snow

We had our first good snow of the season yesterday and it sure was pretty coming down. We only got about 2" (I was secretly hoping for at least 12!) but it stayed on the ground and on the bushes and trees because the temperatures were so low.

When I got home from work, I found the strangest tracks in the snow off our back porch. Small, circular indentations in the snow, about the size of a silver dollar, spaced about six inches or so apart and meandering from the porch steps over toward the fire pit and across the front of the barn. The strange thing about the tracks was they were only one single indentation every six inches. Not two, like a bird might make, and not four, like a small animal. Only one "hop hop hop". What the heck?

Now the mystery is what in the world would make those tracks? What kind of critter only has one foot? Was it a bunny on a pogo stick? A frog hopping in the snow? I was so curious to find out.

Later that evening, as I was sitting in front of the tv watching Vampire Diaries (of all things!) I heard a terrible commotion in the backyard. A cat was screeching as if it was on fire! I ran to the back door and looked out into the yard and sure enough, there sat a gray cat I'd never seen before. (Cat's already making their way into our yard, taking advantage of Jake's absence) The cat probably tried to go into the barn and the donkeys chased it out, thus the screeching and wailing. The cat just sat there on the porch step a minute, very close to the line of tracks I had originally seen in the snow. I tapped on the window and the cat ran off real fast through the snow, one foot so perfectly in front of the other to where all four feet only made one straight line in the snow! I found my mysterious critter! Who would have guessed? And I was so holding out for that bunny on a pogo stick!

Buddy the Raccoon

The past three evenings as I come home from work, I've been seeing the same chubby raccoon as I turn onto our road. He's always in the same spot, either crossing the road, sitting on the fence or peering out at me from the ditch through his cute bandit mask.

He makes me think of a story my Prampa used to tell me about a pet raccoon he had named Buddy. He said Buddy used to sit on his shoulder and he'd go everywhere with him. Prampa used to keep chewing gum in his overalls pocket and Buddy would reach down into the bib of his overalls and pull the gum out, unwrap it and stick it in his mouth. Prampa got the biggest kick out of it.

Now that I'm grown up and have had first-hand knowledge of how feisty this little buggers can be, I wonder how much of Prampa's story might have been a bit embellished. He's had 94 years of practice telling some humdinger stories. Do you suppose he might have been pulling my leg?

Time in a Bottle, Jim Groce

If I could save time in a bottle,
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Til Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you.

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you.

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory of how
They were answered by you. . .

Memories of Jake, 1999-2010

We will never forget our precious dog Jake, who has been the center of our little family for the past 11 years. Wherever we went, he went too. He was our constant companion day and night. 11 years ago when he was born, I picked him out of a litter of six puppies that the neighbor's dog had out back in an old chicken coop. His mama was a Blue Heeler and his daddy was our other neighbor's dog, a Black Lab. Jake was the runt of the litter and the only one born without a tail. Solid black with a tiny patch of white on his chest and not any bigger than the palm of my hand. He was always the last to eat and unless you guided him to a spot on his poor overworked mama, then he wouldn't eat at all. When his eyes finally opened and he started walking around, we were inseparable! I had to leave him with his mama until he was weaned, but not a day went by that I wasn't out in that chicken coop giving him love and letting him know he was mine! When we were finally able to take him as our own, he went everywhere with us. He loved to ride in the car. He'd sit in my lap and just sleep or cuddle and as he grew older he'd be hanging his head out the window, tongue lolling with the breeze blowing his whiskers. He had one ear that perked up like his mama's and one that laid down floppy like his dad's. So adorable. As a pup he was always so curious and he'd follow you anywhere. One time he fell off the upstairs deck and we thought for sure he was a goner the way he carried on and on crying, but within a half hour or so, he was up and running and chasing us around like nothing had happened. Another time, he found his way up to the hay loft of our neighbor's barn and he couldn't get brave enough to get back down the stairs, so he stayed up there for a whole day crying until we finally figured out where he was and rescued him. He loved to swim in the pond, but not out too deep. He was more of a casual wader and then would dogpaddle around the edges. He loved to roll in the freshest piles of horse and cow poo that he could find and was always so proud to come home all smelly and gunky. He absolutely loved to run and would practically have a fit if we didn't let him out of the truck when we turned onto our road. He'd jump out and run alongside the truck all the way home. He was solid muscle from all that running and he could just fly! He loved to chase rabbits, but he never did catch one that I know of. Once in the beam of our headlights as we pulled into the driveway, he literally crossed paths with a bunny that was trying to run for cover. The bunny hopped in the air just as Jake flew past and they collided. Jake yelped in fright and the bunny took off up the hill and under a bush. It was hilarious. That's the closest he ever came to actually catching one. He loved to bark at the deer in the yard when they came to eat our pears, and he was always very tolerant of the turkey that came pecking through. He didn't seem to be scared of them, and they weren't scared of him either. He had this little brown wren on the porch that he used to share his dog food with. She would fly down and peck at the food in his bowl and he'd just lay there and watch her patiently. He never chased her off. He hated flies and wasps and bees and was constantly getting stung trying to bite them. One time, the meter-reader came a little too close to the side of the house and Jake lunged out from under the shade of the porch where he was tied. He scared the peewiddlywaddles out of that man, and the man pulled out a can of mace and maced poor Jake right in the face! Luckily Sid was home at the time and heard all the commotion outside and yelled at the man. He told him next time he came into our yard, HE would get maced! At one point in time, Jake got himself shot in the butt with a shotgun because he came home with buckshot in his fur and every since then, he was deathly afraid to hear guns going off. Anytime someone shot a gun in the area, he'd practically break through the screen door trying to get in the house. He hated thunder too, probably for the same reason. He was a ferocious protector though, and he always stood guard on the porch. We even kept our spare house key hanging on his collar. We knew no one would ever get close enough to take it off and use it. One time I had Jake with me at my office and he was laying in the doorway of our front porch. It was nice out, so we had the front door open and I was at my desk working away. One of my bosses came walking up onto the porch and Jake lunged at him snarling. My poor boss jumped 10 feet in the air and screamed like a girl! To this day, we crack up any time we think about it. We have one neighbor down the road who is a rough-n-tough cowboy, but he was always scared of our old Jake. We always thought maybe he was the one that shot Jake in the butt. Jake was the smartest dog ever. He sat when you told him to sit, he rolled over, he'd fall on the ground when Sid pretended to shoot him with his "finger" gun and said "Bang!" He stayed perfectly still during baths and never shook the suds off himself until you said "Shake Jake!" One time he helped herd the neighbor's longhorn cattle when they got out of their pasture. We never knew Jake knew how to herd, but together he and Sid got the cattle all rounded up and back into their gate. He knew what everything meant when you said it, and we knew what he was always trying to say to us too. If you said "Bye Bye" or rattled your keys, he'd jump up and race around the house barking like crazy because he loved to go, go, go all the time! He loved to chase Sid up and down the road when he rode his motorcycle and he loved to go to the park with us to ride bikes or walk the paths. He'd walk the yard back and forth alongside the lawnmower when Sid was mowing and he'd always be right there standing guard when I weeded the flowerbeds, even if it took me hours to do it. His absolute favorite treat in the world was ice cream sandwiches and it never failed, if you opened the freezer door, you were prepared to see him standing patiently behind you when you turned around. Even from a dead sleep and from all the way across the house, he could hear that freezer door open and come running. Whenever Sid put his shoes on, Jake knew it was time to go somewhere and he'd follow Sid around like a shadow because he didn't want to be left behind. Whenever I ironed in the laundry room, he laid right at my feet because he knew that was where we kept his jar of dog treats. He always got a treat whenever anyone was in the laundry room because he knew to come in there and do his cute little dance or look up at you with those big brown eyes. We fell for it every time. If I was sitting in the living room reading, he was constantly nudging up under the book to get my attention. He hated to be ignored. The minute Sid would lay his lazy boy chair all the way back, Jake would crawl up into his lap and stretch out to lay his head on Daddy's chest. And if I even dared to come over to that chair and give Sid some sugar, Jake would growl at me until I went away. He didn't want me barging in on his alone-time with Daddy! Whenever you walked into a room, Jake would roll over on his back to get his tummy rubbed and you could never resist when he did this. As I said before, Jake was a great protector. If I was scolding the donkeys, he'd lunge at the fence and bark to scold them too. One night when I was picking Sid up in Nashville, Jake and I were sitting in a parking lot waiting and this old homeless man was wandering from car to car asking for a handout. Apparently Jake saw the man long before I did because once the man got to my window and put his hand up to knock, Jake literally lunged across the seats and into my lap all teeth and slobber and snarls and barks like a crazy mad dog! It scared the life out of me, but it scared the homeless man too. He raised his hands in surrender and ventured on his way. Jake shook for 15 minutes after that encounter and I was so proud of him for being so heroic. I never felt scared when Jake was around. We spent lots of nights alone in our house waiting for Daddy to come home from whatever job he was working, and Jake always made me feel safe. When it was time for bed, he'd diligently mosey into the bedroom and take his spot next to the bed. In the night, he'd make his way back and forth from my side to Daddy's side, protecting us both. He loved to be with us, no matter where we were and he never let us out of his sight. One morning when Sid went hunting, Jake bawled and whined because he wanted to go with his Daddy. When I thought enough time had passed, I went ahead and let Jake out onto the porch, but he ran off. Sid came home later and told me Jake had made his way up into the woods and was sniffing around the base of Sid's tree stand. Sid yelled "Jake! Go home right now!" and liked to scare poor Jake out of his fur! He looked all around but never figured out that Daddy was up in that tree. The thoughts that must have been going through his head when his Daddy's booming voice rang out from above! Hilarious. One time at one of Sid's baseball games, Jake heard his Daddy's voice in the outfield and when he saw the ball being thrown, he ran out and caught it and took it to Sid. That was the one and only time he fetched a ball. He never was big on playing fetch or frisbee or chewing on toys. He survived being run over by a truck once and survived the surgery afterward to put pins in his legs. He survived being run over by a tractor and even survived a tangle with a pack of coyotes once, although they did get one of his ears in that fight. It was the ear that stuck up in the air (the one he got from his mama) so from then on he had one floppy ear and a fuzzy stub. Even in the end, when we knew Jake must have been suffering and in pain, he still wanted to comfort us and follow us around. He had the spirit to keep living, but his old body just gave out on him. (Severe hip displasia, both hips, and arthritis in his spine) We have been so blessed by him in so many ways. He has given us so much love and devotion over the years and there will never be another dog like him. Now he lays out under the trees on our hill and I hope he's in peace and watching over us still. I like to think he's in Heaven with all the other animals who have left this earth, and they are running and playing, swimming in golden ponds, rolling in poo to their hearts' content and jumping from cloud to cloud with the angels. We love you Jake and we always will.