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!