Why did the chicken cross the road?

This morning on my way to work, I had to swerve to miss a chicken as it darted out in front of me.  It came out of nowhere and seemed to be in quite the hurry to get to the other side of the road.  It would have been funny if it hadn't startled me so.  There's something comical about seeing a chicken run full speed.

All the way to work, I thought about all the critters I encounter on the road to and fro.  It's not uncommon for something to be running out in front of me.  On a regular basis, I see deer and turkey and bunny rabbits, an occasional chipmunk or squirrel.  Even raccoons in the evenings.

One morning, I came around a bend in the hollow and there was a cow, right in the middle of the road.  Yes, a cow!  She was just standing there without a care in the world about getting out of my way.  I had to wait until she moseyed on over so I could get by.  It's quite startling to see a cow that's nearly as big as your car, standing right in the middle of the road.

The same lady that owns the cows, also has llamas.  And yes, they escape the fence once in awhile too.  One morning there were two of them running up and down the hollow.  When it rains, you have to swerve for turtles and frogs.  One year, we had a terrible time with these little green frogs whenever it rained.  You couldn't get down our road without running them over.  Try as I might to dodge them, I just couldn't avoid smooshing a few as they went hop-hopping and boing-boinging across the road.  Luckily, frogs don't hold a very high place on my cute scale, so I didn't cry like I would have if it had been a fuzzy bunny I had run over.  It made for a very cringe-worthy ride for me though.

One night, Hubby and I were coming home from town and he was lecturing me about my driving skills.  You know how men are, they think they know everything when it comes to driving.  He was scolding me about how I'm always swerving and gasping when critters run into the road.  No critter is worth driving into a ditch for, or worth hitting another car, he said.  I sat there meekly, taking it all in.  "Yes, dear.  Okay, dear."

As we rounded the last curve toward our house, we came around and there was a Mama skunk and her three little babies waddling right down the middle of the road!  Guess what Hubby did?  He said a bad word and he SWERVED!  I gasped (not because of the bad word, but because I thought he was going to hit the skunks) and when we got safely by, I looked over at him with the hugest grin on my face.  "What was that you were saying about not swerving for critters?"

Neither of us stopped laughing for the rest of the night!

Funny for the Day

Hubby and I have been living in the Land of Low Carb for about three and a half weeks now, learning a whole new way of eating in hopes that we can get healthier and lose some weight.  We've been eating things we never knew we liked, experimenting with different veggies and fruits, eating lots of different meats and finding recipes for low-carb and no-carb desserts along the way.  It's been interesting and challenging, but we're getting by and we haven't killed each other yet.  We both miss our breads and sweets, but it's been surprisingly easy so far and we're seeing results.

Hubby loves him some Starbucks.  He has especially been addicted to the sickeningly sweet, high-calorie, mega-fat drinks that have tons of sugar, heavy cream, are caramel-laden, topped with whipped cream and more caramel drizzled on top.  How he drinks them, I don't know!  It's enough to send me to the moon and back twelve times.

The other day we were out bumping around in the jeep and we passed a Starbucks.  He said, "I sure wish we could have a coffee," and I said, "Well, we can!  You just need to learn a new way of ordering."  I know he didn't trust me at first, but we pulled into the drive-thru and I told him what to order.  He can pretty much have close to what he's used to having "taste-wise" but without all the sugar and fat.  We ordered a skinny vanilla latte on ice and when he took his first sip, a look of disbelief crossed his face and he continued to sip away.  See, I told you you'd like it!

Well, this past week he's been working a construction job in Nashville with a buddy of his, and yesterday he got a hankerin' for another Starbucks.  He pulled in and ordered two of the skinny vanilla lattes, frozen.  One for him, and one for his buddy.  When they got up to the window, the server took one look at the two of them and her jaw dropped.   She said, "Whoa!  Are these for you?  You don't look like the type that would be drinking these!"  Hubby's buddy said, "What the heck did you order?" and the lady said, "These are froo-froo drinks!" and again, the buddy said louder, "What the HECK did you order?!  Change mine to a plain, black coffee!  I ain't drinkin' no froo-froo drink!"

As Hubby took the drinks from the server and handed over his cash, he grinned and told her, "I'm drinkin' it and I don't mind throwin' down with anyone who wants to take me on!"  (Okay, Mr. Tough Guy!)  He shoved the second drink in his buddy's hands and said, "You're drinking it, I just paid $7 for these things!" and off they drove.  As they were pulling out of the parking lot, Hubby said to his buddy, "Never again, never again!"  I think he was beyond mortified.

I laughed and laughed when he told me this story later that night when he got home.  I would have loved to see the look on that ladies' face when she saw these two brawny manly-men that had ordered these girlie drinks.  I was so proud of Hubby for sticking to the plan, even though it caused him some embarrassment.  He always finds a way to make me giggle every day!

The Missing Azalea Bush

Hubby and I have been working on the yard, getting things pretty and planting flowers.  He mows and runs the weedeater, and I'm in charge of planting flowers and pulling weeds in the beds.  All my roses are starting to bloom so pretty and the laurel bushes have pretty white flowers on them.  I've got pansies in flower boxes and pots that came up again from last year and the boxwoods are so big they are definitely going to need trimming this year.  The hostas and daylillies are popping up, with the little pink carnations and purple catmint that come up every year.  Everything is so green and lush.

As I pulled out of the driveway this morning, I scanned across the front flowerbeds admiring my pretty rosebushes when it struck me.  My beautiful pink azalea bush was gone!  I planted it about three years ago, in the flowerbed right in front of my laurels.  Hubby bought it for me on a trip to the hardware store and every year it doubled in size.  It always looked so pretty with it's bright pink blooms.  I stopped the car and looked again, thinking maybe I just wasn't seeing it because it wasn't blooming yet, but no, there was no bush at all.  Just a big empty spot where it should have been.  What in the world?  Where could it have gone?

All the way to work I was worrying about where my azalea bush had gone.  Surely no one would have taken it!  If it had died, there would be something left there for me to see, wouldn't there?  And who would steal an azalea bush, for heaven's sake?

Maybe a little bird family had a nest in it, and the Papa bird got relocated for his job at the worm factory and they had to move.  The poor little Mama bird couldn't bear to leave her beautiful home, so they found some way to uproot the bush and take it with them.  That could happen, right?

Or maybe the azalea bush was lonely there in front of those laurels, competing with the snobby rose bush that towered over it, always blooming so profusely.  Maybe the azalea bush was homesick, missing it's family and just uprooted itself and walked back home to where it came from.

Regardless of what happened, my azalea bush is gone and it's a mystery for sure.  I guess I'll be going to the nursery this weekend to pick out something else to take it's place.  I'll miss you sweet azalea bush!

Destruction on the Hollow

Hubby, riding through the tree tunnel on the hollow.

I'm madder than a wet hen!  I could just scream, I'm so angry right now!  My blood is boiling and I could spit fire and nails!

The Spring tree trimming crews have descended on our quiet little hollow and they are absolutely butchering our beautiful scenery.  Our local electric cooperative has hired a bunch of tree trimming contractors to make sure wayward limbs and branches are cleared away from the power lines.  These so-called tree experts are taking things to extremes when it comes to them having their way with our blessed trees.  You should see the absolute mess they are making!

They come onto our properties and hack away at the trees without a care in the world!  There must be six huge orange-colored Asplundh trucks all along our winding little road, with big cranes and wood chippers and chain saws, ripping away at trees that have stood majestically proud on the hollow for close to 100 years, if not more!  Some of the trees they are hacking away at aren't even close to the power lines, yet there they are chopping and sawing and savagely butchering these gorgeous trees.

We have this awesome tree tunnel halfway down the road that is so pretty this time of year with all the leaves so green and lush.  The trees have grown together from each side of the road until their branches are intertwined and the beautiful tunnel was formed.  It makes you smile to drive through it every day.

This morning, however, I rounded the bend to see that our beautiful tree tunnel has been forever marred by these savage beasts!  They have chopped several trees down to mere stumps at the entrance to the tunnel and others they have cut the limbs so far back the poor trees don't even resemble trees at all!  They might as well be bare telephone poles sticking straight up into the sky!  How humiliating for these majestic trees to be stripped of their beautiful arms!  Not to mention all the birds they are evacuating from their newly built nesting areas.  Don't these yayhoos know it's Springtime?  Eggs have been laid and baby birds are soon to be born in those tree tops!  Or at least they were, until these guys came along and knocked them all down!

I wanted to stop my car and jump out and scream bloody murder at these stupid tree killers this morning, but it wouldn't have done me any good as the majority of them probably don't even understand English anyway!  If I knew how to speak Spanish, I would have given them a good tongue blistering for sure! 

I dread the drive home tonight.  Our beautiful little hollow has been torn apart.  All the way to work I was wishing bad things upon these awful, careless men!  I hope their underwear is infested with sawdust and that ticks and chiggers crawl up their pant legs.  I hope they get huge splinters and that cardinals and angry wrens dive-bomb them.  I hope they come across a huge hornets nest and suffer painful stings!  I hope they leave our hollow and never come back!

Oh what a beautiful morning!

I just love a pretty Springtime morning!  This morning, Duds woke me up to go outside a little earlier than usual - two hours before it was actually time for me to get up!  I blindly made my way through the living room to let him out and when I opened the front door I was bombarded by a deafening symphony of millions of birds singing!  It sounded like every bird in Tennessee was in our front yard.  Even the turkeys were gobbling across the road.

Poor Duds seemed a bit bewildered as he made his way down the front steps and out onto the lawn to do his business.  He just stood there looking this way and that, trying to figure out where all the noise was coming from.

On my way to work this morning, I saw so many turkey out in the pastures doing their little mating dancing and prancing.  The toms were all puffed up with their tail feathers fanned out to impress and the hens were doing their best to ignore them as they strutted back and forth.  The fields are so green right now and there are random patches of daffodils here and there as if God dropped bulbs all around willy nilly so even the cows and horses could enjoy some of their beauty as they munch on grass.  All the trees are budding and blooming and everything looks so fresh and new.

Happy Spring!

A Day with Duds

One of our very good friends came by the other day to visit with Daddy and Dudley.  It just so happens this friend is a super fantastic photographer and he brought his camera with him, so he surprised me with some wonderful photos of our favorite floppy-faced boy.

They played in the yard with Duds, put hay out for the donkeys, sat by the fire and talked motorcycles and enjoyed a nice springtime day.

The donkeys lined up at the fence to watch all the commotion when Dudley took his first ride on the lawn mower and then chased Daddy all around the yard.

Poor old Duds was worn out by the end of the visit!

Thank you Bob, for the beautiful photos!  You're the best! xoxo

Happy Dog

Dudley's First Easter

Yesterday was Dudley's first Easter.  I felt kinda guilty because for the first time ever, I didn't even fix up an Easter basket for Hubby, let alone sweet Duds.  I guess I got lazy this year.  I did get Hubby a card, and a couple pairs of new jeans, but no jellybeans or chocolate bunnies.  We just had a nice dinner and I baked him a coconut cake.  Dudley's treat was a little turkey bacon at breakfast and some carrots as a snack later on in the day.  He loves carrots!

My sister sent us an email with a bunch of pictures of dogs in silly poses with signs that had funny sayings to go along with the photos.  We laughed and laughed.  She challenged us to come up with a similar photo with Dudley, so this is what we came up with.  He was a trooper and hammed it up for the camera, bunny ears and all.  Hooray Dudley!

Southern Ladies' Luncheon

Oh boy!  It's time for my bosses' wife to have her famous ladies' luncheon again and today is the day.  Our office is situated in the upstairs portion of their home, so all of the heavenly aromas from the kitchen waft up the stairs to tickle our noses.  It's pure torture, let me tell you!

The guests start to arrive and it's so hilarious to listen to everyone coming in the door.  Southern women's voices are so much fun to listen to, especially when you yourself are not originally from the South.  The accents and funny sayings that come out of their mouths are so endearing.  Listening to it all reminds me so much of my Oklahoma Grandma and the way she used to talk and carry on.  She always said the sweetest and funniest things.  Just listening to her speak with that sweet, southern twang would bring a smile to your face.

The arrivals have been a noisy hoot!  Everyone talking and exclaiming at once, finishing each other's sentences and laughing and carrying on.  All the ladies make their way into the kitchen where they load up their plates with a bountiful feast that Martha Stewart herself couldn't have prepared any better!  Turkey Divan, potatoes au gratin, green beans, corn casserole, pasta salad, jello salad, muffins and bread and two kinds of cake for dessert.  My heavens!

The house gets quieter as everyone makes their way into the dining room and starts eating their wonderful foods.  Afterward, while everyone sits there wondering why in the world they ate so much, they visit and catch up on who's who and what's what.  Then the departures begin, which are noisier by far than the arrivals.  Everyone hugs goodbye and thanks the gracious hostess for the fine feast and fellowship.

I hope she has time for a nap after all this commotion.  She sure deserves it! 

Love Love Love

I don't know who wrote this beautiful poem, but I came across it this morning in an email that someone had forwarded, and wanted to share.  Hope you find some love today.

Love is such a precious thing.

It's fragile and it's rare.

It damages so easily,

so handle it with care!

It's free to those who seek it.

There's enough for all to share.

The more that love is given out,

the more there is to spare.

Inspired

I was telling a sweet friend this morning that I haven't been feeling too inspired to write in my blog lately.  After I said that, I thought to myself, "Why not?"  Lord knows I have so many things that inspire me on a daily basis!  A hilarious husband and his constant comic relief, the cutest ever floppy-faced bulldog, three loud-mouthed donkeys and the ever-inspiring surroundings at our peaceful little home on the hollow.  What more inspiration could a person ask for?

This weekend was an especially nice one.  Saturday, while Hubby was at work, Duds and I spent the day cleaning house, doing laundry, working on projects and watching tv.  That night we watched a marathon of spooky ghost stories on television that had us both on edge.  Dudley's ears would go back when the eerie music played during dramatic moments on the show, and any little bump in the house had us both jumping out of the chair we were cuddling in.  At one point Dudley decided to walk room to room, just to make sure all was safe and sound.  Most of the lights were off throughout the house, but I had left a candle burning in the bathroom.  When Duds got to the bathroom door, he nudged it open with his head and started barking and growling at the reflection of the flame flickering in the bathroom mirror.  His ears were back and his hair was bristling as he huffed and growled.  I couldn't resist scaring him even more, so I grabbed a set of keys and launched them into the air toward the bathroom.  I never saw him move so fast in all his days!  He came flying back into the living room with his hind-end tucked under, barking like crazy.  It was hilarious.  Up on my lap he jumped and there he stayed the rest of the night.

Sunday morning we woke to the sound of donkeys hee-hawing for breakfast and a frisky dog jumping all over our bed.  Note to self:  black-out blinds for the windows and earplugs.  The boys went out to feed the long-eared hayburners and I made the bed and started breakfast.  Hubby built a fire out back, and I straightened up the house and got dressed while the bacon fried.  The neighbors came by with their pup and Dudley was in heaven.  They romped and chased each other through the yard, rolled in the hay and slobbered all over each other until they were both soaking wet and out of breath.  Breakfast was on hold while we bathed and dried Dudley and after everyone had full bellies, Hubby hung his hammock out back between two trees and grabbed a big denim comforter and two pillows and went outside for a nap.  Dudley collapsed at the foot of my chair and was soon snoring away, while I enjoyed flipping through the latest issue of my Country Living magazine.

Later, when Hubby woke up, I went into town to visit a couple of my favorite antique stores.  Country Living magazine always inspires me, and I was on the hunt for a few special things.  As always, I came home with treasures.  While in town, I stopped at the store to get the ingredients for Hubby's famous salsa and Sunday evening was spent with a good friend of ours who came by to help us make about 20 jars.  The whole house smelled like hot peppers and garlic and we had to open the windows to breathe.  We made two separate batches - one flaming hot, tongue blistering batch for Hubby and one toned-down version for our friend.

That night we laid in bed with Dudley snuggled between us, him laying on his back with his legs up in the air, us listening to his hypnotic snores and the popping of the lids on the jars of salsa cooling on the kitchen counter.  Peaceful, happy and contented after our inspiring weekend of love.

Apparently, I'm old!

I learned something new today.  Something terrifying, even.  I'm old!  It was so shocking to me that I could be considered "old."  Me?  No way!  I don't even think of my own Mother as old.  She's still the same sweet, bubbly, young Mom she's always been.  39 forever!  She doesn't even sound old over the phone!  She has this happy twinkle in her voice that couldn't be mistaken for old by anyone that heard it.

My bosses' son, who is 21 now, informed me of this tragic news about me being old.  Yes, he kinda makes me feel old, especially since I remember when he was just four years old and the cutest little shy thing, hiding behind his mother's skirts.  Now he's all grown up with a deep voice, about 10 feet tall and working here at our office.  But he must have poor eyesight if he thinks I'm old, right?  I bet he needs glasses.

I remember when we first moved here to Tennessee.  I was in my 20's and one of my co-workers called me "Ma'am" for the first time.  Now that made me feel old!  I was mortified that he would call me ma'am and I chastised him for it and told him never to call me that again.  I didn't know then that he was just being a southern gentleman.  My bosses' children would call me "Miss Toni."  Even that initially offended me.  It sounded like something I would have called my kindergarten teacher, and I didn't think of myself as old enough to be referred to as "Miss."  But again, it was a southern thing that I eventually got used to.  Now it's endearing.

Yes, I see a gray hair or two popping up now and again, and yes, I do have more defined laugh lines then I used to.  I do have aches and pains I never had before, and I am noticing I don't remember things as good as I used to, but I still don't feel like I'm old!  It's just so distressing to think that someone considers me old.

I guess I better call and reserve my room at the local nursing home since I'm on my way to over-the-hill.  I might as well stop by Walgreens for a cane while I'm at it, because surely I'll be needing that soon too.  Thanks a lot, young whippersnapper, for making me feel old.  You sure know how to brighten my day. . . NOT!  I'm so depressed. . .

See a penny, pick it up. . .

All day long you'll have good luck!

I was driving to work this morning and a man on the radio was talking about this new proposal that has been presented to the government in order to get rid of the penny and the nickel.  Apparently, the government spends way too much making pennies, so they are proposing to eliminate it altogether.  The proposal recommends that the value of the penny be changed to five cents in order to start getting it out of the currency system.  Every penny would be worth five cents!  Same goes for getting rid of the nickel.  Every nickel would be worth ten cents!  Eventually, once they are all turned in, there would be no more pennies or nickels.

Wouldn't that be a great idea?  Hubby and I have always had a big glass water jug that we use to collect our spare change.  He empties out his pockets at the end of the day, and once a week I clean out the bottom of my purse and we plunk it down into the jar.  Once in a while, we'll get it about halfway full and take it down to the grocery store, standing at the coin exchange machine for half an hour pouring all the change down the chute.  We're always amazed at how little change turns into so much paper money!  One time the jar was only a little over half way full and we got over $250 back.  It was thrilling!

Maybe we'll get lucky and our glorious elected officials will help this proposal actually come to fruition.  We'll all be rich!  (or at least a little richer than we were before!)

A Dog's Life

Who came up with the saying, "Work like a dog?"  None of my dogs ever worked a day in their lives!  Sure, they act like they're helping me around the house now and then, but really all they're doing is following me around from room to room, standing by my side while cooking dinner in hopes of catching a scrap or two, stealing socks from the laundry basket and barking at the vacuum cleaner.

All Dudley ever does is sleep and snore.  It's what he does best, and he's so cute while doing it!  I guess that's his job, working hard at being cute and irresistible!

Gotta love him!

It was the best day ever. . .

until Dudley swallowed another sock!

Hubby rarely gets to be home with us on weekends because of his work, so this weekend was especially nice since he was home both days.  We slept in (as long as the donkeys would let us) and lazied around in our pj's.  Hubby built a nice fire out back and we sat out there with Duds and drank our coffee, listening to the birds sing.  The weather was perfect.  I fixed us a nice breakfast and while we were feasting on pancakes and bacon, Dudley had a big bowl of his favorite kibble and the donkeys munched on hay and sweet feed.  Everyone was happy and content on the hollow.

We went back inside and I was doing dishes, Hubby was watching football and Dudley was up to no good, chewing on something he shouldn't be chewing on behind Daddy's chair.  Hubby turned around to see what Duds had in his mouth and then I heard "No! No!" and a couple not-so-nice words and then my name being yelled in a not-so-nice way.  I came running in from the kitchen and there hanging limply from Hubby's fingertips was one of my socks, soaked in slobber.  Hubby had pulled it out of Dudley's mouth just as he was getting ready to swallow it.  Uh oh. . .

Of course we both went into panic mode and poor Dudley was cowering behind the chair because he knew he'd done something dreadfully wrong.  One sock was still unaccounted for and we tore the living room apart looking underneath chairs, the ottoman and the couch.  We paced room to room, worried and fretted and willed the sock to magically appear, but it was nowhere to be found.   We just KNEW Dudley had already swallowed it.  Hubby got madder and madder.  "You know better than to leave your socks around where he can get them!"  "I know, I know, I'm sorry!"  I also knew better than to bring up the fact that I've picked up many a Hubby-sock here and there and not to point out that I'm not the only one around here that leaves socks laying around.  No need to poke the angry giant!  And why in the world does a dog eat a sock anyway?  Sheesh!

I remembered the breeder we bought Duds from had told me what to do in case he ever swallowed something he wasn't supposed to.  He had mentioned a couple tricks to get Duds to throw up, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember either one.  So, I called him and he reminded me that one trick was to feed him something super greasy, and the other was to pour a little peroxide down his throat.  I hung up the phone and Hubby went to get the peroxide. 

Poor little Dudley just sat there and took it like a man as Daddy squirted that nasty peroxide into his mouth.  He walked around a little and shook his head and we paced and worried some more.  I busied myself in the kitchen, trying to avoid Hubby's wrath, and Duds followed me in there.  I guess he felt I was the safer parent to be around at the time.  I came around the kitchen island just in time to see a huge pile of up-chuck in the floor and squealed with delight!  Duds had thrown up and there in the middle of all the muck was the missing sock!  Praise the Lord!  I never thought I'd be so glad to have a dog throw up on my kitchen floor!  We were so relieved.

So, our peaceful day had a little hitch in it, but things eventually calmed down and returned to normal.  Dudley crawled up on Daddy's lap and I finished cleaning the kitchen and soon they were both snoring away.  Whew!

I promise, I'll be more careful with my socks!

The Old Red Barn

This barn sits across the road from our house and I've always loved it.  It welcomes us home every night and greets me in the mornings as I look out the kitchen window while waiting for my coffee to brew.  We've used it as the back-drop for many a family photo.  It just has so much character.  It's beautiful in all seasons.  I especially love it in the Spring and Summer when the ivy grows thick over the front, covering the barn from the ground all the way to the rooftop.

The current owners of the barn told us recently they were planning to tear it down sometime soon.  When I heard this, I almost cried.  I know it would probably cost more to fix it up than it would to tear it down, and it can hardly be used to store things anymore in the state that its in.  The whole backside is nearly fallen into itself.  The rusty roof has been peeled back after many years of strong storms and there are boards missing everywhere.  There are spots where you can see right through the rafters to the sky above. 

It was probably once the majestic pride of the farmer who built it.  To me, it's still majestic.  It has a huge loft at the top where the hay used to be pulled up with cables and pulleys.  Our neighbor who has lived on the hollow for over 40 years, once owned the barn and the land that it sits on, and he told me  how the hay used to be hoisted up into the loft using hay carriers and trolleys from the wagons down below.  He used it as a cow barn for years before he sold it to the man that owns it now.

There are corn cribs built all along one wall of the lower level.  Owls take shelter inside and some evenings we sit on our porch and listen to their calls.  Barn swallows swoop down out of the loft and circle in front of the barn in the mornings and at dusk, and an occasional buzzard perches up on the roof. 

Our old dog Jake got himself stuck in the loft once when he was just a pup.  He had gone exploring and wandered up the stairs, but was too scared to climb back down.  When we noticed he was gone, we frantically called his name over and over and we heard him yelp and whimper and realized the sounds were coming from the old barn.  Boy was he ever glad to be rescued from that hay loft.

At night, when the wind blows harder than usual, there's a piece of tin on one corner of the roof that bangs and clangs as it slams up and down.  It used to wake us up at night, but now we've gotten used to it.

If our neighbor really does have this barn torn down, it will be a very sad day indeed.  I can't imagine a drive down the hollow without passing this beloved old barn.  If that dreaded day ever comes, I plan on snagging a few mementos from the debris.  Some faded red boards I'll use to build some birdhouses for the yard.  Maybe one of the old doors to hang on the side of our little barn as decoration, or a couple sections of the corn crib to put hay in for our donkeys.  Somehow, I'll find a way to preserve the memories of the old red barn and all its glory.

My wish for you. . . .

is to be loved in the new year.  It's such a wonderful feeling to be loved.  And I'm not talking about only being loved romantically, but being loved in general, by multiple acquaintances throughout life.  Sure, romantic love is wonderful, and I am romantically loved by my precious Hubby, but I'm also loved by my sweet Mother and my beautiful Sister, by my Daddy and my Prampa, my Aunts and Uncles, my co-workers, my friends and neighbors and even by my sweet puppy Dudley.  Puppy love is one of the best kinds of love and I highly recommend it. 

It's true what they say, "All you need is love!"  As long as you've got that, you have everything you need.  Love is shown in many ways:  a compliment, a hug, an offer for lunch or coffee, an unexpected card or letter, an email or a text, comfort, safety, peace, help around the house, a gift when it's not even your birthday, dinner waiting when you get home from work, laughter and smiles, friendships, fresh baked goodies that appear on your doorstep, when someone borrows your car and brings it back with a full tank of gas, a thoughtful favor without having to ask.  Just knowing someone thinks enough of you to do any of these things, shows you are loved.

And when someone tells you they love you, that's the best of all.  To hear it said and to say it back, "I love you!"  What a wonderful way to start the new year!