Year End Contemplation

Recap the Year 2007

January:
Nate H turns 22

February:
Purshased my Life Fitness Treadmill and Hoist Universal weight machine.

March:
Aub, Nate and Claralynne came to Colorado from Texas. Aub stayed with us and Nate left for A-School March 31st. Whit turns 18.

April:
Aub and Claralynne continue to delight us with their presence.

May:
Nate and Aub move to Michigan (boo hoo). Aub turns 23. One year post cancer survival for my dad.

June:
Whit graduates from Douglas County High...... Hip hip hurray....... Now I can breathe

July:
Nate and I drive to Utah, spend time with Lori, Scott and family. Go camping and boating.

August:
My dad turns 75 years old

September:
Claralynn turned one year old on the 20th

October:
Whit and I fly to Utah to get his braces and to spend time with Lori at Halloween. My most beloved Border Collie Soda Pop goes missing on the 2nd and found and buried on the 6th. Aub finds out she is pregga with baby number 2!!

November:
Heather turns 21 so now she can have a margarita at Applebys. Worked on Thanksgiving but had the feast the day after.

December:
I turn 46, Nate 47, Veloy 78, Earl 79. Christmas, had my two kids here for a few hours on Christmas Day. Work New Years Eve.

Celebration

Carolers came to Sky Ridge and sang up and down the halls of the hospital. It gave me chills and I wanted to follow them around. I got the groups card and it had an invitation to a Christmas Eve performance. I was determined to go even if it meant going it alone. Whit went with friends. Heather with Parker. That left Nate. He came willingly.

The service included a small..... I guess you'd call it an orchestra because it wasn't a band, yet it had drums and an electric guitar, flutes, violins etc. There was a choir and a presentation about gifts, mainly the gift of Jesus. The auditorium was at least as big as the one at Bingham High and it was jam packed with people.

They had an overhead screen which displayed pictures and the words to the hymns. I really liked that you could clap after a performance. I've always disliked the fact that a Mormon service was without applause. The choir wasn't the same one as the one at the hospital, but I didn't care, it was good to be there. It felt good to sing hymns with other people. It felt good to be able to be with other people in a setting of love and kindness.

Nate has become quite synical about Christ and it has sadly rubbed off on me. But I must say I enjoyed the service and plan to start including more of the things I'd like to do like this in my life.

Life is Fragile

News of the death of singer/songwriter Dan Fogelberg has brought me to tears. I really loved his music and am sad that he has gone. But more than that, it causes me to reflect on how very fortunate I am to still have my father. Dan died of prostate cancer after battling it for three years. My father underwent prostatectomy for prostate cancer only six months after the death of his wife, my mother, and he did it alone. He is currently cancer free. I love my father so much and can't even look down that road when I'll have to say good-bye to him,
(not just because I'll have to figure out what to do with the monstrosity of garbagical items I'll have to go through) because he has been such a pillar of love and strength to me in my life.

Dan has written so many songs that have touched my heart. The kind of song you hope to hear on the radio again and again. "Same Old Lang Syne" and "Leader of the Band" and "Longer Than" have always been some of my favorite songs. In fact I was just listening to "Same Old Lang Syne" on the radio the other day driving down the road. I can't even describe how much I love that song. It is probably one my favorites. It takes me back to high school with prior loves and I cry every time I hear it.

Go to his website. Listen to his music and thank god you're still here.


I'm grateful my father is.

Tea Time

I have a new love for loose leaf tea, namely, Jasmine. Jasmine has an aroma I can't describe and the smell alone wakes my spirit. I think loose leaf has a much fresher taste. Here is my new infuser. It's a three piece set. The tea leaves are placed in the smaller glass cup that fits inside the actual tea cup. Then once the water is poured inside, the tea filters through the leaves and into the cup, leaving the leaves behind. Tea should not be steeped much longer than three to five minutes or it becomes bitter. Jasmine has a time limit of three minutes or I can't drink it.

Making tea in my new tea infuser is fun and cool to watch.

"There are multiple kinds of teas and the Tea is harvested after each flush - the sprouting of the top two leaves and bud. The top two leaves and bud are hand plucked and then processed into any of the four types of tea, which are Black, Green, Oolong, and White.
Black tea is withered, fully oxidized (heated) and dried. Black tea yields a hearty, amber-colored brew. Some of the popular black teas include English Breakfast, and Darjeeling.
Green tea skips the oxidizing step. It is simply withered and then dried. It has a more delicate taste and is pale green / golden in color. Learn more about Green Tea.
Oolong tea, popular in China, is withered, partially oxidized, and dried. Oolong is a cross between black and green tea in color and taste.
White tea is the least processed. A very rare tea from China, White tea is not oxidized or rolled, but simply withered and dried by steaming". (http://www.stashtea.com/)

Green tea has wonderful antioxidant effects, and has been linked to the prevention of cancer, lowering cholesterol, control high blood pressure, lowering blood glucose levels amidst other wonderful benefits. I find I cannot drink green tea on an empty stomach or I get nauseated. "Green tea caffeine taken in proper quantity stimulates every organ in the body. A cup of green tea will help clear a dull mind in the morning. It is also thought that small amount of caffeine present in a normal serving of green tea (9 mg of caffeine) can stimulate the skeletal muscles and facilitate muscular contraction." (http://www.sirjasonwinters.com/).

I want to show the teapot and cups I am going to purchase.

So from now on you can call me Auntie T, or Grammy T, or mommy T, or just T.

Tag

I was tagged by Aubrey! The rules of the game should be posted at the beginning of the post. Each player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Problem is, I only know two people who read my blog and they've already been tagged so that's why this has taken so long to complete..........who do I send it to? Oh well, no matter. Okay here are 6 interesting facts/habits about Tami!

1. I save the lives of small creatures. If you have read my prior posts you would know this. It comes from a scripture actually: "In as much as you have done it to one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me". So, yes, I think of Jesus when I save a life of a bee or spider. Kinda crazy I know. Earl says I've interpreted it wrong. He can have his own interpretation and I'll have mine. I may have "lost my religion" as REM would say it, but I have some precepts that I keep.

2. I buy things in two's and threes. My clothes closet/wardrobe shows this. So does my fridge, shoe closet, cutlery drawer, pantry, make-up kit (I should say make-up tool box), book shelf, storage closet.............. and on and on. If I like a shirt, and it's on sale, I have a worry it will get stained and then I'm out a really cute shirt. At the grocery store, I frequently have two of the same item....don't know why. I have a whole line up of spaghetti strap shirts. Nate thinks I'm done and I don't need any more. He wants me to hang EVERYTHING (and since we have such little storage space and no room for more boxes, I comply). Some people store their winter clothes in summer and vice-versa, so it appears they have less clothes. My whole wardrobe is on display and then I get made fun of for all the clothes I have. I've tried two times in the last couple of months to go through it and salvation army some of it, but I can't get rid of much. Even though I feel lots of them are not in my dream wardrobe, I hold on because of the fear I had of not having clothes. In high school, I only owned 7 pair of underware! 7 pair! You ask me what I did when they weren't clean........now you know why I have lots of clothes, many of which came from second hand stores.

3. I gave birth to three children at home, each with different midwives. Each of the births of my children were unique as the child. I did not do this because I was uneducated or ill-informed. Quite the contrary. It took much more education to have them this way. I read countless books, attended classes, and took the responsibility that not all births are emergent and should not be treated like a disease. I'm proud to see that all the years of talking about it and lending my opinion regarding home birth and the beauty of empowering a woman has filtered down to my first daughter who now reads some of the same books I did (and still has some of mine.... don't worry, I don't need them like you do right now, but my Spiritual Midwifery book is precious to me). She has taken off on her own journey and now wants to become a midwife herself, a desire I had and lost because of my career in nursing.

4. I want a tatoo (or two). I want a faery and either a troll, brownie or some other strange character. Brian Froud's talent and imagination is so amazing. I love his style when it comes to drawing characters, faeries, brownies, goblins, gnomes, trolls and woodland folk that I can't get enough of it. So I have been looking for just the right character of his to become my tatoo. I own several of his books, Good Faeries Bad Faeries, Lady Cottington's Pressed Faery Book, and a bunch more. I love all the works that have his influence, Labryrinth and The Dark Crystal
to mention a couple.

5. I would have to classify myself as Pagan. I don't think I fit in with any other type of religion. I have a pretty strong spirit and don't like to be a follower. Blazing my own trail is best. So I don't always do things like the majority of people do, ie birth at home, use of herbs (when we were considered "freaks"), free thinking. I do miss the feeling of belonging with my prior affiliation in religion and I love the hymns. But, I don't like to be told what I should wear, eat, drink, behave etc. Rebellious? Hell yes.

6. I secretly want to act. I have wanted this since 6th grade. I've been in a few plays, but the thought of being on the big screen gives me the chills. Probably won't happen, but I can dream.

One Corner at a Time

Mom tried to start collecting tea pots a long time ago. She only managed to get one. So I have picked up her desire and have begun collecting for myself. I currently have four, but am online looking all the time.

I bought these two metal pots at a store called The Barn in Castle Rock and I just love them. They were purchased from an estate sale and I knew I had to have them. The detail on the metal is gorgeous.

I have wanted to have a home with lots of decorations to reflect my tastes and provide comfort and color in my life but haven't made it a priority. I have recently been shopping at a new store that has tons of the items I love at very reasonable prices so I have frequented this store on the days it's open. Unfortunately it's only open twice a week. But I keep working on two specific areas at the bottom of the stairs. The basement is where I draw the line on what I consider MY SPACE. I've taken over the decor "down under" and am filling the walls, nooks and crannies with my own style. I am hoping to learn a technique in painting walls from a couple of ladies who own a store called Rumors. I have decided to place decor and fashion on the top of my list of wants so I don't feel guilty for buying items for vanity.

"T" in the Morning

Where am I? How did I get here? What time is it? 7:30 A.M. I fell asleep after the movie on the family room mattress. Nate got up and went to bed, but didn't tell me to follow and now I have a neck ache from not sleeping on my own pillow. I get up and go in to the bathroom, hmmm, my hair looks pretty good having just woken up.

My slippers skid across the kitchen floor and I put the tea kettle on high to heat my water. The air is hazey and the trees are dusted with a thin layer of white. It looks cold outside. As I sit down to read my country magazines my eye catches a squirrel jump from one pine tree to the next. He scurries up the tree and my eye catches the movement of another squirrel. They are playing going round and round the tree, their tails flipping back and forth. They are so fast my eyes can't keep up.

Blue jays and woodpeckers gather round the bottom of the tree to get some breakfast from the seeds fallen out of the bird feeder on the tree and my tea kettle whistles. Better hurry before it wakes anyone else in the house.

I have chosen chocolate hazelnut tea. Non-caffeinated, dang. Oh well, it's still good. The tea bag changes the water to a nice orange-brown. Cream swirls in little circular paths until it no longer is separate from the tea and now my tea is a creamy brown. Just add sugar and sip the heat down until my whole body is warmer. No one is up to start a fire in the stove so the tea will have to be my heater.

Today is the day we shall celebrate Thanksgiving as I worked on the actual day. We will have all the regulars, turkey, stuffing, potatoes and gravy, pie, both pecan and pumpkin, cranberry sauce, salad. Notice, salad came after PIE! I have actually had two days of this food already as my work furnished the whole meal for it's employees already. But they didn't furnish the family and that's the most important ingrediant of all. No football game today, only after thanksgiving sales and lots of traffic. I didn't buy gravy mix so I may have to venture out into the maddness. which will give me the excuse I need to go to the new store with all the decorations that just opened last week. It's only open twice a week and Fridays are one of the days it's open.

So what am I doing blogging? I need to put on makeup and get out of the house into the cold and onto the highway.

Hope your thanksgiving was grand. T

Mean People Suck

I remember reading this statement on a bumper sticker once and I agreed with it, however, I knew I still had a mean streak in me and I'd be a hypocrite if I bought it and put it on my car.

Mean People Suck

Don't it make you wonder where those "mean streaks" come from? Do we keep the meanies under the rug and never let them know we know who they are?

I remember when I was little, very little, about 6 to 8 years old, we lived in a trailer court in the middle of Salt Lake City. I mean "in the middle" of the city. The trailers were mostly single wide, there was no grass or playground to play on. Only a smidgen of what would be called a "back yard" and it was really a "side yard", which consisted of gravel and an old truck or something in it taking up most of the room to play. Each trailer was only a few feet away from each other which basically solidified the fact that no one else had a yard. We played in the car wash at the end of the street. It had a roller to squeeze the water out of the rags and we'd put paper cups filled with water and squeeze them until the water shot out the other end of the cup. What fun!!! Another thing we did was run through the Ramada Inn just down the street. I remember looking at the huge swimming pool with the greatest desire to hop the fence and take a dip. Instead, we'd just go in and play around in the Inn. It was huge!! Anyway, I say this to illustrate our immense boredom.

One day Lori and I went over to the neighbors house. They had chicken wire fence so it didn't stand too high off the ground and their little girl was in the yard. She must have been about one or two years old. Lori and I would push her over through the fence, and she'd cry and pick herself back up. We'd make like it was sad that she was crying for no apparent reason to us, give it a few minutes and then we'd pinch her. She'd start to bawl and the mother would stick her head out the door to see what was wrong. We did this a couple times until it was obvious the girl wasn't just crying for nothing. There was a sense of accomplishment in being able to make someone smaller than myself cry. Isn't that awful?

What would make me want to be so mean? My mom had a mean streak. And it is my opinion that her grandmother, my great grandmother, had a mean streak too. Where great grandma got it I don't know. Anyway, mom would tell me how someone in her family, an aunt or possibly great grandma, would purposely stick the baby with the pin when she would change it's diaper. I don't think it was the persons own baby. Isn't that just MEAN? Sticking an innocent and unexpecting infant with a pin, watching the poor thing cry and grinning about it! Awful.

My sister and I would fight. I mean fist fight, throw things at each other, yell, scream and call names. I hated it. I think that's part of the reason I went into religion. It was my way of swearing off of that sort of behavior and taking a "public vow" to show I had made a heart felt change. Only thing is, this last trip to Utah, we had a fight again and the yelling returned and it felt like I had come full circle. Like, I hadn't really changed at all. It was easy to scream at her like I used to and I hated it this time as I hated it all the other times it happened when we were growing up. I was yelling at her for yelling at dad. Make sense to you? Me neither.

What real purpose does being mean serve? What do we gain by being mean? What positive thing can come from such a negative behavior?

Nothing.

This is why I am publishing this blog. To let people know I have a mean streak and I'm working on it. I am learning that there is no real reason to keep it. Kindness, even when you feel the need to snap back and give 'em what they deserve, doesn't always get you what you hoped for............ justice.

The meanies in my family must some day come forward. The fire started somewhere and it must be put out now. I am standing on the side of kindness, until the next time I am faced with a person spitting in my face their vile loathing hatred and I can only hope I have the strength of character to look at them and see it is they who have the problem and not fall into their pit of hatefulness.

Forgiveness

The Oxford Dictionary:

"Forgive: Cease to feel angry or resentful toward; pardon; excuse, overlook, clear, acquit, absolve."


New World Dictionary:

"Forgive: To give up resentment against or the desire to punish; stop being angry with; pardon. To give up all claim to punish or exact penalty for (an offense)."


The American Heritage Dictionary:

"Forgive: To excuse for a fault or offense; pardon. Synonyms: forgive, excuse, condone. These verbs mean to pass over an offense and to free the offender from the consequences of it. To forgive it to grant pardon without harboring resentment."

Three dictionaries definitions of what "forgiveness" is. Three different views using words to describe what "true" forgiveness is. Not just "releasing the pain that a person has caused in your life", but absolving. Not holding onto it, but "stop being angry with". Not hoping to punish but "pardoning".

I read a blog once that started out like this. "You know what I hate, hate, hate, despise?".

This is not forgiveness. This is harboring, hoping to inflict pain with the blog. Just hoping that the person it was directed toward would read it and feel the vial seething hate spew all over them. Putrid, sick, loathing....... this is not forgiveness. This is not happiness. This kind of hate and loathing leads to physical sickness.

You can choose your friends, you can't choose your relatives. This is so true. But why allienate yourself from the people who love you? We know you're hurt. So are we.

How do I feel about the person who wrote these words? Do I hate her? No. I don't hate her. How can I hate her. I don't know her well enough to hate her. I babysat her once when she was very small. I looked forward to seeing her at family parties, unfortunately, sometimes her mother would choose not to come to the parties and I wouldn't get the chance to see her. I am a loving Aunt. I love my nieces and nephews.

You are not the only one hurt. We have been lost, confused, bewildered and alienated too. We feel we have lost a big chunk of our family. Fortunately there have been a few who have splintered off and decided to be a part of our lives. I'm grateful for this.

Just because we continue to love the person who has made changes that have caused confusion, distrust, pain and sorrow doesn't mean we don't look on those closest to him and ask ourselves how they are handling it all.

Another thing, the feelings you have about this are your own. So "own" them. Don't think that avoidance is forgiveness. Don't think that allienating everyone who has love for the offender is the way to go. Don't think for one minute the thought hasn't run through my head..... How the hell are you and your family handling all of this?

Maybe it's time to put down the resentment and ask yourself why a person would make such a strong change in their life that would affect everyone they are close to; that would allienate everyone they love. Could it be they had no foresite? What would make a person do such a thing?

Could it be self hate?

Could it be they were convinced by so called "experts" that it was the only way to be "whole"?

Did it happen at a time in their life so close after a major injury and they were drugged out of their gord, really unable to make a smart decision.

Maybe their upbringing hadn't allowed them to make solid smart decisions for themself, believing that someone else always has the truth. Maybe it's a combination of all of those things. Who knows. What's done is done. All I know is that I still love this person through all of it.

I've been hurt too. I hold resentment for some of my family members too. They adopted my nieces and nephew and now won't let any of us have part in their lives. They changed the childrens names, something they were asked not to do. I have not forgiven them. I also acknowledge that I haven't forgiven them. I hold resentment toward them because they took something from me. Something was taken from you too. Our stories are not the same. But I know that I'm grateful for those in my family that I love and am ever grateful to find I am loved.

Know that you are loved.

Even if you are the one hating.

For Crickets Sake

Nathan stood their naked, readying himself for his shower. looking down into the toilet and then up at me. I looked into the toilet and saw something brown, half expecting to see a spider or fly but no, it was a cricket kicking himself in circles with one leg trying to get out of the ocean of water he found himself in. Nate didn't appear to be harboring any guilt, no thoughts of Pinnocio, Jiminy or sitting outside listening to the soothing sound of crickets seemed to show in his face, just another day in our basement bathroom with it's occasional annoying bug. I, on the other hand, was flabbergasted, looking around the room to find a cup or something to scoop this poor guy out. I'm not the kind to flush a friend, I like the sound of crickets, he was just "in the wrong place".

So I took a piece of paper out of the trash and placed it near dear ol' Jiminy and he stuck to the paper clinging for dear life. After placing him on the cement just outside the sliding glass door, I wasn't sure if he was totally able to sustain life, so I watched him come to full crouching position (crickets don't stand) and hop off of the cement pad and onto the dirt outside. I was pleased with myself. I had just saved a life, one that will please many an ear at night giving that soothing sound that luls scared children into pleasant peaceful rest.

I returned to the bathroom where Nate peered back at me kind of scrunching up his face. "Yeah, that was a better solution". I couldn't believe what I had just heard. Had I made headway with a subject that I have long felt everyone thought I was a lune for. I have saved many the life of an occasional spider, bee or bug. (I do however kill flies. They land on poop and barf on your food. Nasty creatures. They don't belong anywhere except in a spiders web or in the mouth of a frog, another creature I love)

Had I converted him to my funky way of thinking that even small lives deserve a chance, and that they are "just in the wrong place"? I don't know.................. Until the next time I find something floating in the toilet.

Thinking of myself

So this is my last day of my weeks vacation spent in good ol' Utah, land of my family, pollution, cars, houses and businesses everywhere. I don't think I will be making too many more trips like this one again.

Each time I come, I try to make it fun, provide my own and everyone elses food, pay for dinner or activities out, try to be kind. But so often it slaps me back in the face. My plans don't go as I hoped, someone ends up mad. I can't help but think it has more to do with poverty than anything I've done really, but still, it makes me feel that maybe my trying to think of others isn't always what it's cracked up to be.

Each one of my family members seems to be struggling with tight money situations which causes a lot of tension for everyone.

I don't know, but it seems that each person wants to be able to be giving, but in the end it comes down to them thinking of themselves and their own. I'm beginning to feel that I won't be so bad off doing the same.

Oh baby baby....b..baby baby

So my daughter has been calling me complaining about how yucky she feels after receiving her Depo-Provera shot, with it's accompanying nausea, fatigue, rash with raised spots and difficulty cleaning her house. I gave my advice on how to pre-soak her dishes, lay down and come back to load em up in the dishwasher later, and how "not-important" it is to have a spic and span house etc.

A couple days later she calls bauling saying she's "pregnant" after receiving the Depo shot. OMG, what is all that progesterone from the Depo shot going to do to the fetus? We read everything we can find about getting pregnant after receiving the shot and all the articles are about how women have a hard time "getting pregnant", not "what happens if you "get" pregnant after receiving that shot.

My mind is racing. I feel my research Gestapo engine kick in. I'm scared to find out if the baby is going to grow a sixth toe, have a cleft lip or become homosexual after such a serge of hormone during critical formation time. (Wow, I can't believe I actually questioned homosexuality as something to be afraid of compared to a cleft palate!!! I'm not homophobic!!) Then I realize that my own fears have rubbed off on my eldest. She has become me. Miss paranoia looking to find a flaw in her child to blame herself for.

I'm afraid I've carried my fear of causing Aub's problematic ears with me ever since I took Bendectin for nausea while trying to keep my job at Pepperidge Farm cookie factory with morning sickness. She is now doing the same thing about her daughters weight. Never in my life have I seen anyone worry about their babies weight like I've seen Aub fret and frown about Claralynne being little. She is not too little. That kid has the healthiest lungs on a kid I've heard. Why every time her mom gets on the phone with me, Claralynne lets me hear her mighty screa...... I'm mean singing voice!!

My girl had her bases covered. She did what she was supposed to in the order needed to hold off on having another child. I think the only explanation for it is that this cutey pie really wanted to come earlier than later. If the birth control had gone into full force, what with that we read online about how difficult it can be to "get" pregnant after using Depo, this baby might not have had a chance to get here for years. (That's if we actually do, as spirits, get to pick when we come here.)

Maybe a baby is just the consequence of sex!

Mee mee calls

I had just gotten off the phone from Aub who called me at work and one of the nurses said to me, "Your grandbaby called three times". I said, "what?" and she said, "yeah, the phone rang and I answered but no one was there, then it did it again. Finally your daughter took the phone and said, "sorry, Clara was just trying to call her grammy".

Too Cute

Snobbery

I'm beginning to believe that I'm just not the friendliest person around. I thought it was just that I don't know how to talk to people, but after working yesterday with another nurse whom I look at as a jabberbox, I think maybe I'm just a snob, or that I really don't like people in general. I get along with animals just fine. They don't talk. (with words), don't judge, are forgiving, unconditional, show their affection only after you earn it. I don't know.

Yesterday was the third day of me being unit secretary and I charged the floor for two of those days. I kept noticing that I was in a crappy mood. Then I started to look at the people that I work with and noticed that I find I don't "like" most of them for one reason or another. This one talks too much, that one is lazy, this one is 22 years old, acts like she knows everything and amazingly enough, has the older nurses actually "listening" to her and taking her seriously. I just think of her as a "silly girl". This one is always bragging about his daughter, that one is a perpetual flirt, this one is a liar and covers it up with humor. I don't know. Don't other people see these flaws? Not that I'm flawless, I just don't understand how these flawed people are able to get others to listen to them. I think of myself as having some very interesting things happen in my life, but I find I get cut off in conversation, or just don't get listened to or taken seriously at all.

I have a hard time looking at people. I don't like to get too personal with strangers, even though they are people I work with all the time, I know how they talk behind others backs. Even the so-called "good" people do it. In fact, sometimes they are the worst for it. What makes a friendship? I don't do things with people I work with outside of work. I don't know anyone else outside of work. I don't attend church. I don't have contacts outside of my home except those from work. I guess, I avoid the idea of socializing too closely with people at work because I am a private person and don't want my life talked about at work amongst my peers. So I don't get too close to anyone there. There is this thing called "confidentiality" at work and I have seen time and time again how, even though this is a topic that is addressed EVERY YEAR at work for our patients confidentiality, it so often doesn't even get a second glance when talking amongst ourselves about those we work with.

That's why I'm so guarded. So, instead of making friends, I look at people and hear how they talk to and about each other and avoid those type conversations. So I stay in this little "alone" box always hoping that the shell will break and I'll open up. Maybe it's just that I've been hurt by people I've deemed closest to me and so I don't venture out at all.

A Poem Written by My Daughter Aubrey

Aub wrote me this poem a long time ago and I had it hung on my wall by the computer along with the pictures I took of Soda and Me for a class assignment in my photography class. The assignment was self portrait.

Dedicated to Mother
By Aubrey Jeppson (Hatch)

there is a dog in my bed
resting peacfully on my head
in the morning I'll be dead
smothered lovingly
by the dog
resting peacfully on my head
in my bed
he sleeps till morning
when he will be fed
but who will feed him
if I lay dead
smothered lovingly
by the dog
who rested peacfully in my bed
on my head
now I am dead
and he waits patiently to be fed

Lonely House

Someday the hole will fill.

I'll feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and smell the wind and not get so choked up. There's so much beauty out here. Not a day goes by that I don't think how lucky I am to be driving along a road so full of pine, elk out in pastures grazing, coyotes calling to one another, and the little bunnies that dodge the cars at night. How many people live in such a place as this?

Soda loved it too. He liked the freedom of being outside to sniff around as he liked. Someone said he went out to find a female, and that could be true, but I think he went out for many of the same reasons I do.

I've called a few people to tell them. My sister cried. I didn't think she'd get choked up since she was one of them that kind of made fun of me when I went ballistic another time when Soda went missing. It was Nate's 40th "surprise" birthday party. Soda was no where to be found. I had arranged for people to pop out for Nate and stuff like that and I ended up going all over our neighborhood in the night calling for my dog. It turned out he had followed me into the storage room in the basement when I went to get wrapping paper and I shut the door with him still in the storage room. Lori made fun of me because I was so upset.

He had a habit of taking off for hours, only this time he didn't come back. I knew that it wasn't that he didn't come back, it was that he couldn't come back.

I prayed that if someone had him that they would be honest and take him to a vet or shelter to have him scanned. Then I just prayed that if someone knew where he was that they be honest. I was given an answer to this prayer.

I don't think of much else around this house. So much reminds me of my puppy. I read other peoples blogs and wonder if I'll ever be able to blog about something humorous, or witty, or about something that just makes me laugh.

I am a journal writer, not a blogger, so this tends to be more journalistic. I keep feeling like I'm supposed to write for someone elses benefit. But I can't. I keep thinking I should be less sad and move on.....but I can't. I keep feeling as if someone would read this and say....."OMG, it's just a dog!!!". But he wasn't "just a dog" to me.

The house feels empty. I'm afraid to brush the stairs with the new hair remover brush because once the dog hair is gone, there won't be more to clean up ever again.

It's so final. I so want to see him again. I want to hold him and cuddle him and feel the soft spots behind his ears. I was looking forward to smelling his newly washed coat, it had only been a day since his bath and I worked so I didn't get to hug him while he smelled clean and fresh.

He was like one of my kids. My kids even know he was like one of the kids. I've called him "your brother" to Whit a few times. He didn't appreciate it.

A Mournful Day

It's 7:o2 right now on October the 6th, 2007.

I prayed last night that I would get some sign or be told where Soda was, and in my dream I heard ...........He is not in your area...........

I didn't know if that meant he had gone as far away as Colorado Springs or Castle Rock or what. I know now that it meant he has left this earth.

We just buried our puppy. Someone called us this morning saying they saw the sign we put up in Larkspur and gave us the exact location where to find him. We hurried into the car to see if it was him......... and it was. My heart was racing as we went to see if it was Soda. I didn't want it to be him, but I also wanted an end to the worry and wonder about where he was, if he was with someone or if he had been hit. Since he's been gone we've been up and down that road looking for him, everyone of us looking for several days and none of us has seen him. A lady came out of her driveway which is directly on the other side of the road where his body was and she said she's not seen his body there for the last three days. We feel that the person that called to tell us where to find the body may have been the one to have hit him and placed the body where we would be able to find him.

I'm not mad at them, Soda left when it was dark. He's black and would be near to invisible on a dark road in the night. When I've taken him running with me along this same road I've had a devil of a time getting him to stay on my right on the dirt edge of the road. I would stop jogging just to make a point of teaching. He didn't ever understand the danger of a car. I finally stopped taking him on my jogs afraid he would get hit.

He did any way.

We've had him for about 8 years and got him when he was about 2 months old, just three days after the death of our other dog Zacharia Rufus. Zach was a Schnauzer and belonged more to Nate than to me or anyone else.

I think that's why when we got Soda I went out of my way to bond with him. Whit and Heather came here to Colorado to spend the summer with Grandma and Grandpa. So I took advantage of the special time between me and my new puppy. I bathed Soda and loved him up hoping he would become mine. He wasn't really MY dog per se, he was our family dog, but I think everyone in our family will agree who he looked to as his "head human".

So many things remind me of him. Just coming into the door is a reminder as I take care not to open it too fast or with too much force for fear of hitting him in the head. That habit will take time to change. I will miss him before I go to work as he was my companion and kept me from being lonely that early in the morning. I will miss him jumping up on the bed eager to share in the licorice crows Nate and I would eat while watching a movie. I will miss his hair all over the carpet and stairs, his hunching so as not to pee when he gets too excited when I get home. I'll miss his funny screeching cry when the kids would run and hide and he would run from room to room looking for them yelping and screaming, everyone laughing their guts out. I'll miss playing ball and frisbee with him.

We buried him up on the land amidst pine trees and scrub oak. I put three balls, a can of room spray, some pictures and one of the signs we put up when he was lost. He loved to take walks with us and would run up ahead and then back to me and jump up on me, then he'd run up ahead and come back so excited and jump up on me again. It drove me nuts. But I'd love to have him back to take with me on walks and kiss my face stinky breath and all.

Aubrey asked me if we'lll get another dog. I don't want another one right now. I just want to remember him and all the wonderful things he was to me.

I hope there is a heaven where there is lots of green grass, frisbees and balls and most of all someone to love him as much as we do. We'll miss you Soda.

Soda Pop

Born Approx May 1999

Died Approx Oct 2nd 2007

Blogs on Dogs

It seems I've created a few blogs about someone elses dog, now it's about my own. My dog Soda decided to go for a jaunt on the night of the 2nd of October. He hasn't come back. This has been an ongoing thing with him to leave when let out at night, but he usually comes back. I would go ballistic when he'd been gone over a couple of hours, and the family kind of made fun of me for it. Maybe they know now how I have felt each time he has taken too much time outside. It's so vast out here. There are too many places for him to get lost, or bears could eat him, or he could get run over or stolen. My fear is that someone isn't honest and wants to keep him. He is cute, trained, sweet, loving. Everything a person could want in a dog. He has a microchip, but without the collar, I wonder if someone would take the time to have him checked for the chip.

My heart aches for my loss. He was my shadow 24/7. I'd get up early to go to work, he was up on his hind legs kissing me while I sat on the toilet. He'd lay on the floor of the bathroom while I showered and would lick the water off my legs when I'd get out......... Yeah, he was trying to help me get dry. He'd look forelorn when I left for work and would wait at the window for my return. He would sleep on my neck at night if I let him. His obsessions included any kind of ball you could throw for him and he never forgot where it was if it went under the couch he would take you to it. He loved it when you sprayed room spray. We could spray it and he'd hear it from upstairs, and run down to bite the canister. He wanted you to spray him in the face. But the one thing he loved the most was his shot put ball. He would push it around on the grass of our West Valley back yard. Our yard was tiered so he would push it down hill, then football hike it between his legs until he got it back on the top of the hill, then push it down again. His front teeth are worn down from that ball, as well as a little permanent pink spot on his snout from it.
We have video footage of him pushing it around in our back yard. I've let him play with it out here, but the ground is as much dirt as grass and he ends up throwing up from the inhaled dust.

His dish of food and water sit untouched in the kitchen. His racketballs and tennis balls rest in the little container on top of the woodburning stove. I check for his hair on the chair of my bedroom where he slept. I've looked all around the house for little pieces of hair to keep and smell to remind me of him. I was always picking up his black hair off the frontroom floor, he was always rolling around to scratch himself. We had just given him a flee bath the night before he left, that's why his collar was off. It was hanging on my treadmill to dry. If only I'd kept it on him after his bath, but it was wet and not letting the hair around his neck dry.

I can't think straight. My mind is bogged down with worry and sorrow. I keep feeling like others think I'm overreacting, but they don't know how much of a friend this loving dog was to me. He was unconditional. He would love me and kiss me and hug me all the time. Even when I was mad at him. He was always there, always ready for attention and love and ever willing to give it. Who wouldn't want a dog like that? That's why I think someone would keep him.

I have to go through the pictures I have and make some posters to put out. That is my plan today

Soda goes missing

I've tried three times to blog and I keep getting kicked out of this site. Maybe the subject matter was all wrong. Maybe I really just want to cry outloud in hopes it will help with the pain.

My dog is gone. I hate the word "dog" because it has been used to describe an ugly person or given as an insult to someone. He is my "friend".

He is the best dog I've ever had and I'm so sick with grief I can think of nothing else.

He took off after being let out before we went to bed and hasn't returned. We've put calls out to every pound, kennel, vet in the area. This place is so big, I can't imagine we will ever see him again.

We had given him a bath so we took off his collar to dry. The tags on the collar have his name and address on them. This is the only time he's been outside without the tags. He's been chipped but who knows if that will do any good.

I am so used to saving the last piece of my toast, or anything I eat for that matter, for him. He follows me everywhere, gets up with me before work, waits at the window for me when I return from work. Would sleep on top of me if he could. He hugs me, I mean really hugs me. Knows when I'm upset so he'll come be near me and always want my attention. I can't stand the thought of not having him around. I just don't know what to do.

I keep praying, but I feel nothing in return, not a sound of comfort or anything. So I think of my niece who lost her son to cancer, and I feel selfish for asking for help from god to return my dog when she wasn't granted to keep her son. But, I love Soda so much. I can't think of anything else. I don't even want to eat.

He left night before last. Today is the fourth of October, so he left the night of October 2nd.

Go Figure, Wobbley Legs Walks Again

I don't get it. Earl came home on Tuesday after going to Utah for a week for a friends funeral. We were afraid he would come home and have to bury another dear friend. I was anxious to see Earl's reaction when he saw how gaunt and debilitated Vic had become, and sure enough, Vic demonstrated his weakness and inability to get from here to there, looking a bit like a frog with his hind legs tucked up under him bent and feeble. I could see it hurt Earl's heart. It made me cry.

So I come home from work last night on Wednesday and Vic greats me fully up on all fours, mostly stable. He's had a hard time being completely able to move his feet without tripping since he was hospitalized, but this was amazing to me!!! How could he go from being so weak and unable to move and then be fully able to walk with little more than and occasional trip of the feet? And then to top it off, I come home from shopping today and Nate tells me Vic has been up on the land with he and Earl while they were cutting down scrub oak and Vic followed them all the way up to the top of the land and back down. What? He walked all that way and back? How in the.......................!! I don't believe it.

The only explaination I can come up with, is that every time Earl leaves, poor Vic goes downhill. I think he gets depressed and it truly effects him physically. I think he is afraid Earl won't ever return. What a love. What an amazing kind of love between dog and master.

Vic reminds me of Earl, he is big and kind of scarey at times. Yet I can see in Vic's eyes that as he gets older, he becomes more vulnerable. Both of them like to be in the open spaces of the land and enjoy their independence. Neither of them understand what's happening as their bodies age and become more feeble, unable to perform as they used to. Both are desperately devoted to those they love, yet there is a side that is misunderstood. Vic being beaten as a pup has made him very defensive about anyone, more specifically males, getting close to his hind quarters or his face.

Both Vic and Earl are big. It's their breed. They don't know when they're being scarey. They don't understand why some people stay away from them. But those who stay away don't know what they are missing. It's been worth it to me to earn Vic's love. I can see it in his eyes. He loves me and I know he knows I love him too. I know Earl knows I love him, even though I've bared my teeth in defense of my kids or the things I believe in. I hug him and tell him I'm glad he's come home. I hope his children will some day come home too before he is gone and it's too late.

Old Wobbly Legs

This was the last of three days of work in a row. By the time the last of three comes, I feel like a stretched out rubber band. Nate called me yesterday at work to tell me Vic couldn't use his legs and that he got stuck in a ditch. Nate said he tried to hump Cisco, the other Rotty, and his legs became useless appendages after that. He's been having trouble with his hind quarters ever since the last time he was sick. He's lost a lot of muscle mass in his back legs, but he really looks cachectic now.

Nate and Heather tried to move him, but he kept trying to bite them. When I got home yesterday I went to see him (the dog) right away and it really hurt met to see him struggle just to move from one spot to the other. It breaks my heart, I help old people in and out of their chairs and beds to the potty all day long and I can't help this dog, whom I love, and I know he will inevitably be put down because he can't walk to get his water, food and go pee. Granted he's over 14 years old, he has cataracts, but he still has the gumption to play humpy-humpy with Cisco. We had to let Cisco sleep in the basement garage just so her smell wouldn't send Vic into a frenzy!!

I know Vic loves me. I'm the only one who dares put my face close enough to his to let him kiss me on the cheek. And he will give me a kiss when I ask him. He bit Nates face when all he wanted to do was hug him. The wound looked like a dollar sign and I took a picture of it with my camera phone. Nate now has a scar and won't go near Vic's face. As I recall, Vic bit Whit on the lip when Whit was about four years old. Vic also ate Whit's bicycle seat. We could have pushed to have Vic put down the first time he bit my boy, but I know Vic's sad and cruel history. When he was a pup, some kids beat him to a pulp, cut his legs and abdomen, smeared grease in the wounds, kicked him in the nuts so hard he swelled. The vet was amazed Vic was still alive. I can't hate him for protecting himself, or, at least feeling defensive around males.

Tonight I came home to find he is still in the same shape, dragging his old bent legs around and feeling pretty upset that Cisco can get to the water bucket and he can't. He dragged himself over to the bucket so he could have a drink of fresh water tonight. I'm not sure if I'm going to allow Cisco to sleep in the upstairs garage tonight so Vic will sleep.

It seems every time Earl goes to Utah, Vic goes spiraling downward. Earl is due to come back tomorrow and his way of putting a dog down is with a 22 rifle. I won't let that happen. I'll pay for the priviledge to ease Vic into the next life where he will frolic free and easy, lay on green grasses and never feel the pain in his legs again.

That time is probably only a matter of hours away and I can barely choke back tears with the pain and sadness of him being gone. I'll miss him, even if he nearly eats my own dog when ever they are near each other.

Accentuate the Positive

Loyalty, or the lack thereof, is a touchy subject to me. Especially when it comes to the loyalty that I see a lack of amidst mine and my husbands family. As a child I just felt that there wasn't anything better than being with my cousins at grandma's house playing in the basement. Aunts and uncles upstairs smoking and drinking coffee, and just talking about what was going on at the time. The house usually smelled like Camel cigarettes, coffee and food. It was the smell of security for me because I found security in being with my family. But those feelings have all changed and it hurts me very much to see us all go our own ways, getting so caught up in our own little lives and not even including those I found to be my security blanket of youth.

Brothers bad mouthing brothers. Uncles sleeping with nieces. Sisters sleeping with their sisters husbands. Family complaining because this one stole from that one. This one loses their kids to the state. Family adopts them, then excludes everyone from the kids lives. This child won't speak to her father because of lies started years ago and the pride to admit wrong doing is too great between them. A father makes devastating changes in his life leaving those who love him hurt and humiliated. So instead of showing the unconditional love they are taught about every Sunday in church, his family lashes out at him by humiliating him to every person they know in the community and in their own church.

Adultery, stealing, lying, hate, anger, all those negative things that can happen have happened in my family. And I wonder where the love has gone. And I wonder why the innocense is gone. And I wonder if I will ever feel the easiness of the wind in my hair as I eat a green apple with salt like I did in grandma's back yard as a child.

I had a dream once of being surrounded by tires and junk in a pool of water. I looked up the meaning in a dream interpretation guide and it said that water can represent the soul, and polluted water is the soul being polluted. That's how I feel. Like I want so bad to be clean, but so many things around me are polluted. My spirituality is unclean, or so it feels. Especially the innocense that goes with the spirituality.

My husband and I just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. On the way back from the restaurant we started discussing how easy it is to write about sad or negative things. I blog about things that bug me and he writes music that has a bit of a negative edge. Why is it that being negative seems so much easier than being positive.

How does one write about the happy things if the soul doesn't seem happy? Really? I know that there are a multitude of things out there that are bad and it's easy to find a subject to write about.

Children have always been a subject that I can find peace in. Perhaps it's because they are so young, nieve, innocent and it's easy to forgive them their follies. Sometimes their follies follow them into adulthood. Like my son. As an toddler, he used to pass out when he was really mad. It scared the crap out of me the first time he lay limp in my arms. Then after that, I recognized it as a tantrum. The tantrums of fainting have gone, but the tantrums have taken on a different color. My daughters recognized it early on but I ignored them. Now I pay the price and have less control of his behavior or in manipulating him to do as I say. But he is still as good at manipulation as he was as a little boy, only now the things he wants are much more expensive.

One good thing I have to write about is my granddaughter. The thought of her makes me smile and brings me back to the same feelings of innocense as I felt as a child. I love her little laugh, her bright blue eyes and her fair skin which she inherited from her fair mother.

Yes, there are things in my world that can bring me back into the world of happy and Claralynne is one of them. Her parents make me happy too. They have their problems, but don't we all.

Still ain't getting it

You know, when I was in Jr High School up at the Old Bingham in Copperton, I was sitting in Miss Winder's history class listening to the girls around me talking amongst themselves about who belonged to their religion and the girl in front of me turned around in astonishment and said, "Tami, you're not Mormon?" and I said "No" and she said, "Well, you're good enough to be". Her name was Liz and I sat there wondering if that was a cut or a compliment.

I've carried that saying throughout my life........"You're good enough to be"..............

I always envied the Mormon kids. They stuck together. But I felt like an outsider around them. Like they belonged to some grand clique and I wasn't one of them. I wondered what I did wrong when I wasn't included in conversation, or invited to where ever they were going. As a child they couldn't come play on Sunday. I later found out through one of myMormon nieces as I drove her home one evening that she wasn't allowed to go over to so and so's house because they "smoked". How many kids were never allowed at my home because my mom smoked? Then I began to remember high school and figuring out that my clothes must have smelled like smoke too and maybe they thought that I smoked.

Mormon kids all seemed to be able to play the piano. I envied that. They didn't cuss, or make out, or do drugs. Well, most of them. They had their own set of rules. So did the Seventh Day Adventists. When I was in about 3rd grade I had a friend who was Seventh Day Adventist. They didn't eat meat. I went to church with her once. I also attended church with my friend Jenny when I lived in California. She belonged to some Christian sect, I don't think it was 1st Christian or Southern Baptist, but it was a good Christian sect. I went with her several times. They had to travel quite a distance to get to their church and I found it funny that in between classes the adults drank coffee outside, steam coming up from their cups in the cold California winter air. I had a cup as well and thought it odd that these people drank coffee at their place of worship. Mormons DO NOT drink coffee. It is regarded as pretty close to a sin and you can be kept out of the temple for such an offense.
Mind you, you can weigh 300 pounds, have all kinds of heart and other health issues, but if you don't drink coffee..............you're A-ok to be in their temple.

My mother claimed to be Christian. She would quote her mother....."You don't have to go to church to believe in God". She wore a crucifix around her neck for years and I envied my niece who inheritied it as I haven't truly inherited anything that my mother wore on a constant basis. I even have many pictures of her with it on. She never really spoke too much about her beliefs, or even if she prayed. My father, on the other hand, had very definite views on religion and on Christianity. He is what you would call and "agnostic", sometimes even going as far as to call himself "athiest". But I've watched him through the years soften just a little as we have lost first Jamie, my great niece, to SIDS. And then my older sis Deb. Dad rents cars and uniforms for the movies and he rented police cars to "Touched by an Angel" many many times. He has appeared as a character in several of their shows as well and has read "Conversations With God" and has recommended it to me. That one really blew me away.

I always wanted to belong to some religion. I didn't like to answer "nothing" when people would ask me what religion I belonged to. Nathan was the first and only Mormon that answered "I don't know" when I asked if he believed the church was "true". This is the saying you will hear out of the mouth of every Mormon even if they have never been to any other church. To me that's like saying "Carrots are the very best vegetable in the world". If carrots are the only vegetable you've ever eaten, how can you make that claim? Well, I'll tell you. If you are honest and say that you really don't know that the church is true, you will have at least 5-8 people come up to you after service telling you that "it is true" and then proceed to tell you how to go about gaining a "testimony of the truth". Like there is no choice in it. You will find out what everyone else knows to be true.

Wow, what do you think would happen to the Mormon boys and girls who decided to go with a friend to some other church and they liked it better and said to mom and dad...... "I like their church better and want to go with them all the time!" I'll tell you.... all hell would break loose. My god, before you know it, you'll have the label "Apostate". I remember when I got my label "inactive". It was about one or two weeks of not going to church and already the bishop sent out the relief. My visiting teacher said to me.......... "you know, I specifically asked the bishop to give me someone who was inactive"................ I couldn't believe it, I was "inactive" already. The word rang through my ears and a chill went up my spine. I was "inactive". Then it kind of sank in and I thought........ well, that's not so bad. Yeah, I guess I can live with that label.

So am I an apostate or just inactive? Does it really matter? Nah. I don't believe God will keep me away from those I love because I haven't attended church or forgotten all the handshakes and words in the temple. In fact, I have the book with all the signs printed in it published before Joseph Smith deemed the signs and symbols as "of God". Written by the Masons, my book is a rare find and I got it out of a rare bookstore in West Valley. Not too cool Joe.

I don't believe marriage needs to be performed in a giant building deemed "the only true place to be married". I don't believe God would want to keep you away from the ones you love because you don't know all the right "code words and handshakes". God can't make me stay married and God can't make me stay in love. God also cannot make me want to be married to someone for eternity if I don't love them enough to stay with them now! And besides, it seems with all the "eternal" goals, I feel that the now gets less importance placed on it. I don't want to live for eternity. I want to live for now and let eternity take care of itself.

Trying to hard to fit into a group of any kind

I'm not aware of too many things,
but I know what I know if you know what I mean.
Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box.
Religion is the smile on a dog.
I'm not aware of too many things,
but I know what I know if you know what I mean.
Choke me in the shallow water before I get too deep.
What I am is what I am.Are you what you are - or what?
I'm not aware of too many things,
but I know what I know if you know what I mean.
Philosophy is a walk on the slippery rocks.
Religion is a light in the fog.
I'm not aware of too many things,but I know what I know if you know what I mean.
Choke me in the shallow water before I get too deep.
What I am is what I am.Are you what you are - or what?
Don't let me get too deep. Edie Brickell

Paper Bag

Fiona Apple packs a punch

Another quote

I quickly jotted down this quote I heard on the Movie, Akeelah and the Bee:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond imagination.
It is our light more than our darkness which scares us.
We ask ourselves – who are we to be brilliant, beautiful, talented, and fabulous
But honestly, who are you to not be so?
You are a child of God, small games do not work in the world.
For those around us to feel peace, it is not example to make ourselves small.
We were born to express the glory of God that lives in us.
It is not in some of us, it is in all of us.
While we allow our light to shine,
We unconsciously give permission for others to do the same
When we liberate ourselves from our own fears
Simply our presence may liberate others
~Marianne Williamson~

Just somewhere to put this

"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt" ~William Shakespeare~

I like this statement..... I had it on my myspace and decided to change it but didn't want to lose
this quote. Great place to store it.

Will is right.