Thanksgiving ~ A Pause That Refreshes

At least I hope it does. A break from all the bleak news that bombasts us daily.

We all have a lot to be thankful for even if we feel like we have to turn over rocks to discover just what.

For me, it's that I'm still here. It's that I've been married for 48 years to my first and only husband.  It's that he is not a man bent on bad behavior.  It's that I have a wonderful home, more than enough food on the table and friends, really good friends, that date back to my childhood.  It's that they, too, are still here!

It's that we still live in the best country in the world.  We're going through a really tough patch right now but I believe common sense and love of country over self will win out in time.  I remind myself I don't see the headlines in newspapers around the world, or how reporters report things that are in their national and local interest.  I remind myself they too have similar problems with media overkill and political self serving.

We don't live under a dictatorship.  Our military is not lurking on the sidelines waitng for an over- throw opportunity.  Among those running the country there are good men and women and slowly but surely they are being heard  and gaining a foothold.

We have become a vast nation harboring such massive differences in regional needs I think it's an amazing glue that keeps us together.  I'm thankful for that.

Having traveled the world as well as this country, I'm thankful I was fortunate enough to be born here. Here, too, will I die. Just another person who has lived a life of mediocre accomplishment.  I've tried to be a good person, a caring person and a tolerant person. I'm thankful that what I've been has been enough to enjoy what has been a wonderful, fulfilling life.  Pretty much just a middle of the road type of person.  I'm thankful, too, for those of far greater accomplishment who have used their talents to keep our homeland the best of the best. May they grow in numbers. I'll be thankful for that too.

That's pretty much me.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Ahhhh Choo!

For those of you who don't live in Cottonwood country, this is what aggravates our allergies. This was taken a couple of days ago. Today we couldn't even see the grass. It looks just like someone trashed the yard with cotton balls.

Fortunately I'm not bothered by it. It's not like I don't have enough to contend with considering my back side and all! For those of us not bothered it's fun, but for those who are it's miserable. So here's to winds in the willows and everywhere else to blow it away!

To Fathers Everywhere

In honor of Father's Day, I'm going to give the President a break. Fathering seems to be a skill he does well and I'm sure his girls have a special day planned for him.

Fathers. It's one staple in life the whole world shares. No matter your race, nationality nor religion, there are Fathers. They are the lesser heralded of the parenting duo. Most likely because, at least when I grew up, they were around far less than Mom. Today that may not be as true with the numbers of duel income families.

We should be thankful we live in culture where parenting is celebrated. Where family is still important and we strive mightily to keep the unit a strong one.

Think of what it must have been like back during the days of Hitler Youth when children were dressed up in uniforms like the tin soldiers they were to emulate and encouraged to "snitch" on their parents. Most often their fathers.

In some ways things have not changed. Somewhere in the world the family unit is always breaking down over ideology. In Iraq this past week in Iraq a son shot his father to death because he refused to quit his job as a translator for the U.S. This was no mere child. He was a 30 year old man along with his 24 year old brother and a cousin, 19.

History repeats itself. Causes, no matter how ignoble, will always be sold to the vulnerable. I hope fathers who don't live within those cultures realize how fortunate they are and are the better for it. It is tragic when son turns against father for somewhere along the way the family unit has broken down.

I loved my father and though gone these many, many years, I still miss him. His patience, generosity and strength of character. His arms around me when I was sad or scared or sick or just for the heck of it. I was so lucky to have had him. He deserved every ounce of love that came his way.

How

I've come to the conclusion that we're missing a point in this season of primaries. That would be the "how". And not the cliched Indian greeting!

Dissatisfaction with and disappointment in the Obama administration and Congress in general has the lynch mobs calling to throw all the bums out, no matter which party. There are legislators who are pretty thorough in their decision making process and actually have the people in mind before themselves. Their problem is they can't seem to band together in numbers enough to overcome partisanship.

Now people are being unseated merely because they are incumbents. Not wise. Having been bouncing around this part of the country of late I've had the chance to browse some newspapers I usually don't see. It seems all the same. So and so's a bum, elect me. I'm against this, this and this. I'm for not much of anything.

But if they are for something, no one is saying how they would expect to achieve their goals. Never mind that the lofty idea of one politician hasn't a chance to even get a hearing, especially if said politician is a newbie. But other than that, how often have you ever heard the "how"?

We had better start pinning them down. I don't see a lot of substance in many of the Tea Party favorites that are winning primaries. Take the race in Nevada for instance. Harry Reid had everything but his rump out the door but the Republicans elected the weakest of the candidates vying for the nomination to run against him. She is a Tea Party favorite. In all that I've read, I don't see what she actually brings to the table. It would be nice to unseat Reid but I don't see it happening now.

If we really want to put the skids on this run-a-way administration we had better get off our "any body but" mode and start looking for candidates who actually have some ideas as to how to make things work rather than listening to no more than the same tired slogans.

There certainly must be some truly able out there. Aren't there?

Red, White or Blue?

The catch up work is on hold. The weather is just not cooperating. Plus I had a birthday thrown in so Hub has given me a reprieve on my hiatus from blogging!

We met some good friends in south central Washington for a couple of days of wine tasting. Some of the wineries have a concept that is relatively new, in my context, and eminently workable. Little "villages" with a cluster of a half dozen or so wineries all within walking distance. It was great. We tasted wines we'd probably have by passed had we been driving from winery to winery - as we did in some areas. We found some real treasures in so doing.

It was quite nice to have a drizzly week day. Not many people were out and about so the servers had ample time to tell us about their wines. Being on meds I kept my tasting to nothing more than small sips but it was enough to give a thumbs up or down. And to get relaxed enough to join in laughter and camaraderie that is typical. It was just a lot of fun.

Maybe the best part for me, with limited ability to consume, was the number of tasting rooms that had dogs as greeters. It was funny, but I was the first each and every one came to as we entered. I guess they sensed I needed a "doggy fix" more than I needed a taste! They were right.

We tasted some great reds and whites and the pups sure chased away my blues!

A Ray Of Sunshine

The weather has been gray, wet and chilly. I ache more and my mood reflects it. Gray. The news has been so black (no pun intended about oil) I've not felt like commenting on it. Even the birds around here are gray. Or brown. Except the occasional Meadowlark or Western Bluebird. Even they aren't as colorful as their eastern cousins.

I miss having my dear old Bacchus to dote on so I've been taking particular delight with the onslaught of baby birds. The shrubs surrounding our house have become an entire neighborhood for them. At last count I found two Blackbird nests and one Robin's all full of new borns. There was the Killdeer nest with young a few weeks back. I take my life in my hands from protective parents when I get anywhere near. Lawn mowing has become quite a challenge. But you know what? They too are, well, gray.

So imagine my delight this morning as I looked out the window to see if the rain had eased enough to check on the plants in my green house. A rustle of wings and swaying of branches in a willow and a small bird appeared. Then another. And they weren't gray! They were brilliant. They were beautiful. I rushed to the den and dug out my bird book and hurried through the pages.

Western Tanagers. Oh, how I hope they become part of the 'hood!

Saving Face On Facebook!

Hub left me a column in the Financial Times to read. It is by Lucy Kellaway, a 50 something columnist, on the realization that if she doesn't grasp the concept of Facebook her generation will soon be relegated to a dark hole!

What made me chuckle is the fact that I'm a tad older than she, as are a great many of my "friends" on Facebook, and we all seem to "grasp" it quite well! Actually, I think it's because we're getting lazy in our old age. Oh sure, we can say it's because it's a great way to communicate with people around the world. That's what we said when we started blogging. But then most of us had something to say in our blogs other than the fact we planted bulbs in the garden this morning or some such.

All you have to do on Facebook to make worldwide acquaintances is play a game. My addiction of choice is the Zoo game. Not too many of my local "friends" are into it so I went on the help site asking for more zoos to visit. My friends jumped from 20 something to now over 70. There are an awful lot of zoo players out there with whom I share nothing in common except that silly game! Yet whatever they write about their life I get to see.

I'm not sure this is all good as Hub just came in from supervising the first stage of installing driveway gates at the entrance to our property! How can you be paranoid and be on Facebook at the same time?! As with blogging, I guess you trust luck and the idea that most people aren't going to take the time to track you down from Facebook if you happen to offend them.

One thing she mentioned I think she may have gotten wrong. She read that 36 million mothers in the U.S. signed up to keep an eye on their children. Talk about not grasping it! Now, if my mother were alive...no, never mind. She'd never have a computer. She wouldn't even have a microwave. Let's go back a generation or so.

If I had kids they'd probably let me friend them. The interaction, if wanted, is better than e-mail. But when kids, teens, hold the "friend" button I really doubt too many of those Mom's got the accepted notice.

Times, they are a changing. The best part about it is more and more old acquaintances try it out and you can reconnect. I've had a few over the past few days. Many of my blogging friends are also members and we see one another in an entirely different light than from blogs alone.

I suppose Twitter will continue to grow by leaps and bounds but I'm not there yet. I still have trouble entering a phone number in my cell address book and it does not have a keyboard to make twittering easier. Heck, it doesn't even take photos! So, I'm really not all that hip, or whatever the jargon of today may be. But I manage.

I'm not quite ready for that dark hole no matter my generation. I'm getting too close to one as is. I'm looking for technology from many sources to keep me out of it!

The Blues Are Seeing Red!

As the blood bath rages on over the Health Care Bill - bills - I'm stepping away from the fray for a few days. I expect it will still be raging when I return.

Meanwhile, we'll be at the Charles Russel Art Show and Auction in Great Falls then poking our way home via the galleries in Cody.
We love circuitous routes!

Who knows, maybe I'll have something other than negative views about our government to talk about for at least a day. Why do I doubt that?

Okay, I'm off to computer withdrawal. I feel the shaky hands already as Hub is saying, "Cowgirl up! We're going!

Later.

The Personal Face Of Technology

When it comes to modern day technology I'm a bit of a dinosaur. I still watch the news on TV, not streaming video on my computer. I do not text nor tweet. My cell phone is no more than a Tracfone to which I add the minimum number of minutes to keep it active and never do use all of them.

We have, however, invested in a magic jack so we can talk to those out of town friends, especially overseas, who we can't chat with via computer. I do blog. I am on Facebook.

I was just ready to shower this morning when the news of the 8.8 quake just south of Santiago, Chile penetrated my morning fog. My heart beat soared and I felt a quake of my own in the pit of my stomach. I have a young friend who attends University in Santiago.

I raced to my computer and opened her Facebook page and there they were, comforting messages going out to her friends that nearly all seemed well with family though she was still checking with friends. Whew! I sent her a quick note and went back to my shower.

I became acquainted with this young lady after she had heard a story on CNN a few years back. It was about seniors who blog and I was included. She dropped me an e-mail telling me how neat she thought it was. We started exchanging correspondence and do to this day.

I've watched her mature into a lovely young woman. I've seen her go from pre-law to veterinary medicine. I've listened through romances; we've discussed the world politic. The correspondence waxed and waned but remained. When we found one another on Facebook, she chided me for taking so long. Today it was a saving grace.

We've all sat mesmerized by the information that flowed from Iran during the election uprisings down to the death of a young woman who became their rallying cry. We watched the devastation in Haiti in real time and today we're seeing blanket coverage of the Chilean quake while waiting to see if a massive Tsunami hits Hawaii. The bulk of this is coming from cell phone video and Twitter.

I watch coverage of such events marveling at the technology that brings it to us no matter how hard oppressive governments try to squelch it. Usually with a degree of detachment.

Not today. It hit me personally. I realized how much I've come to care for a young woman I've never met and most likely never will. Yet I consider her friend. We even have an American city in common. Her mother resides in the Pittsburgh area where I grew up.

It is indeed a small world. Technology makes it more and more accessible. Today, there is nothing but good about that.

Get Your Feet Off The Furniture!

There was a time when parents admonished children to do just that. I can't imagine that George W. Bush didn't hear it. I don't know about Obama. He's of a different generation. If he didn't however, it's his loss. We already know he's lax when it comes to proper protocol.

Perhaps this small issue is part of a larger one. A certain arrogance. Disdain. Lack of respect where it is due. You see, this desk is not just any desk. It's our desk. The people's desk.

It is also much, much more.

It was a gift to the United States as a token of friendship and goodwill from Queen Victoria.

While on an Arctic expedition the HMS Resolute got stuck in ice and was abandoned by its crew. Nearly a year later an American whaler found it adrift, caught it, repaired it and returned it to England as a gesture of good will. When the Resolute was retired in 1880, Queen Victoria commissioned a desk to be made from the ship's timbers.

She then presented it to President Rutherford B. Hayes as a memorial to the courtesy and kindness of America in returning the ship to England.

The desk, known as the Resolute Desk, has been used by Presidents ever since.

Both Hub and I came from families in which our parents were avid collectors of antiques. We were instilled not only with the value of them but also their historical significance and taught to respect both. Had we a piece with the history of the Resolute Desk, we would have used it because it was meant to be used. We would also have respected it for what it was and how it was meant. That precludes propping one's feet on it!

It's a generational thing, perhaps. If true, it's a shame for we are losing touch with who and what we are. You see it daily in disdain for simple good manners. Sloppy clothes where dress is required. Hat's worn everywhere, often backwards,including restaurants. Often filthy.

I can't help but think as we grow more sloppy in our daily lives, the more acceptable it becomes, it's no wonder that even those who we choose to govern us are very much the same.

It's an indicator of what we are becoming. Self-absorbed narcissists with little consideration for others. We were angry with George Bush for side stepping the Constitution in the name of security. We're angry now with Obama and Congress for ignoring the wishes of the people.

It's really understandable when you look back at history and see how we're turning our backs on the very foundation that made us great.

Does anybody want to reset the direction? Does anyone care?

Unfettered Talent

On a sweltering hot August day in the summer of 2007 I got a call from a neighbor asking if I could come over. Ready for a break for any reason, I obliged and was greeted by the entire family grinning and giggling. The reason was to present me with a water color of Bacchus done by their then eleven year old son. I was absolutely stunned.

Bacchus was beginning to get up in years and I knew I had a wonderful, personal keepsake that I would treasure forever. It hangs today in the kitchen next to the Swiss cowbell I toted all the way home from one of our excursions. I thought they were an appropriate compliment to one another!

I've written about this family before as being models for home schooling. All three of the youngsters are bright and talented and I miss having them in the neighborhood a lot. They had sheep and goats and alpacas and dogs that I loved to visit and often did. They were the type of neighbors that were always there if you needed them. They've moved on to property more akin to their lifestyle yet I still find myself craning my neck to see if any of the critters are out and about.

What I really miss, however, is keeping track of the kids' accomplishments. Especially the young water colorist. Being an artist of sorts myself, I have a soft spot in my heart for him. He has an immense talent and I admire the way his parents have handled his development. They see that he is getting the necessary training to hone his skills, yet keeping it controlled so that he can enjoy the freedom and joy of just being a boy.

Every once in awhile, a justly proud Mom will send me a photo of a new painting. I'd like to share the latest with you. The young man is beginning his teen years now. What a future he has ahead of him! And this is his dog. I see two kinds of love in this painting. That of a boy for his dog and that of a young artist for his medium. Having a work of his done especially for me is one of the highlights of having had our paths cross.

Hitting The New Year Running!

I'm exhausted and haven't even looked at my computer since Saturday! It's called taking down the decorations! I didn't even check my e-mail! Whew. It didn't seem such a chore putting them up! But then, I'm a neat freak when it comes to taking the special ornaments off the tree, carefully wrapping them then packing them.

We also went a little crazy with more garlands around the house and more ribbons so I had to find extra tubs for storage. Thanks heavens for pizza at days end!

I spent an inordinate amount of time looking at our snail mail card list as I checked off names. It brought back memories of an annual conversation with Mom about those from whom there was no card. Explaining to her that being in her 90s she had out lived most of them was of no comfort. They had been her friends and she wondered... I find I'm getting too close to those years. She made me promise to write everyone in her address book when she was gone so they'd not have to wonder about that card that didn't come. It was a bittersweet chore when I did it because of the wonderful remembrances I received in return. I think Mom would have liked to have written similar notes to the families of her friends.

Now days who knows? The postal service no longer forwards mail so if someone has moved I have no way of knowing. Most likely no one gives a thought to an address book and who in it might wonder...

So here we are. Everything is packed and stored. The house has been thoroughly vacuumed though I have a ton of cleaning to do. We resumed our exercise programs. The diet to shed holiday excesses begins today for in earnest. And I'm back to my computer.

I can't wait. There has been so much I've been just itching to comment upon! I even subscribed to a clipart service so I don't have to spend hours searching for appropriate illustrations! One stop shopping.

I'll let this suffice for today...but, I'm back!

Nostalgia

There are days I get so upset with the news and it's implications I can't even rant about it. Today is such a day so once again I decided to bury myself in the season.

This is the second time I've felt compelled to bake some cookies so I dug out my Mom's old tin cookie cutters. Do you remember them? Boy, I sure do. I remember my Mom spending hours in the kitchen, working on an old gas stove quite unlike the Viking range in our kitchen. She turned out magic. Animal cookies, caramels, apricot bars, nut balls, rum balls and even an edible fruit cake!

I kept those cookie cutters more for the memories than to actually use. But I have her recipes so I decided to have a go at it. The cookies are on a plate in the dining room waiting for Hub to dig in. The first batch lasted about two days. There are quite a few more this time so no more. He has his own baking to do anyway. He makes stollen every year and it will last us until New Years and maybe a few days beyond! Then it's South Beach diet time for me!

While I'm in nostalgia mode I thought I'd show you some close ups of some of the ornaments. These two are old ! A hand blown glass hot air balloon and an extremely fragile egg shell!

This set includes a gift - a little devil of a nutcracker from Christian Steinbach for my having bought so many of them from him!

The little wooden cutout was from some of our "between opportunity" days when we made our own ornaments. Boy, that was awhile ago!

The cuckoo clock came from one of our many trips to Switzerland

And the angel. Hub's Mom made that and it has been with us forever. Somehow she remains in tact. We will never replace her.

And of course there has to be a Saint Bernard! You rarely see anything related to Saint Bernards so when Hallmark came out with this one several years it had to be added to the collection!

So that's a little trip through time with me. Sometimes it's just better to remember the good things. What isn't will be there tomorrow - or whenever I feel like addressing it. Today's its cookies. I'm wondering if we still have and hot chocolate. For this short period of time I feel like a kid again!

Christmas, Pure And Simple

I just finished browsing the headlines and could find little to cheer. So. In the spirit of the season I'll share with you some of ours. As you probably know, you can click on the photos to enlarge them. This is our house. It's a hodge podge of items we've accumulated over the years. Luminaria from Santa Fe. The choir figures were made by Hub's Mom when he was a youngster. They are older than old and we love them!

This is Bacchus helping out last year. It was our last Christmas with him. : (

This is where all our "kids" rest and this is their tree.

This would be our tree with its thousand points of light and lifetimes of memories. We have ornaments from our parents from when they were youngsters, we've ornaments we've collected from all over the world along side those that were gifts and old wooden cut outs we painted ourselves when times were tough. As I said, a lifetime.

I had a wonderful early present yesterday afternoon. Our vet called. No. My friend who was our vet called. I hadn't seen her for awhile. Things at the clinic were slow. She came by and we visited for two hours before she had to leave to pick up her husband who is also a vet at another clinic. It was wonderful. We talked dogs. Animals. Bacchus. She had her dog with her. As they were leaving she let Abby out of the car to stretch her legs. She wagged and romped and got her ribs and chin thoroughly scratched by me. Then just before she got back into her car she gave me the gift of a wonderful memory. She ran into a pile of snow and made an angel. Somehow I think Bacchus was with her.

Death Takes A Holiday

If Congress really wants to put forward some meaningful legislation they need to ban the use of cell phones while driving. Full stop. Few things in the world can't wait until a driver gets from point A to point B.

Friday night we had a surprise as we pulled out of the garage on our way to the art walk. It was snowing. There was none in the forecast but never-the-less it was snowing. Just hard enough to muck up the streets to a fare-thee-well. By the time we reached town my smooth soled shoes made walking a challenge. No one was prepared. We couldn't help but notice as we waited for the walk signals how many people passing by in cars that were on their phones. The same was the case as we headed home, being extra vigil at stoplights as cars were tending to slide through them. Too many drivers were on their phones.

It's not unexpected around here because Idaho has no penalty for talking or texting while driving. But we were lucky. We got home without incident.

A sixteen year old in Washington, from which we are maybe 15 miles away, wasn't so lucky. Having her license for a mere three weeks, she didn't have the experience to handle the icy conditions. She lost control and crashed. While talking on her cell phone with her boy friend. He heard it all. She died. On December 5th, 2009. No Christmas for that family. Or the boy friend!

To make matters worse, Washington does have a cell phone while driving ban. Especially for novice drivers . I'd consider a sixteen year old licensed for three weeks a novice, wouldn't you?

The law is often broken in Washington because there are no teeth in it. It's a secondary offense making it nearly impossible to enforce. Would a stronger law have spared this young lady? It's hard to say, but if part of driver education is the knowledge of a stiff penalty if caught, it might at least be a deterrence.

People resisted seat belts at first too. I can remember back that far. People would also get used to turning off their cell phones.

I'd bet my life on it. Congress?

Can You Hear The Bell?

I love holiday movies, as schmaltzy as they are. They are pure escapism and I sink into them with tissues at the ready. I cry so easily.

To my surprise sometimes Hub even quits his infernal channel surfing to watch one for more than 10 seconds at a time. I don't know if he was really interested or he was burned out on all the Christmas Carol wannabes last night. Back to back we had Susan Lucci in in Ebbe and Vanessa Williams in A Diva's Christmas , both following the original, which is worth watching! We were tiring of the theme.

Then came one of my annual favorites, The Polar Express, asking the age old question, "Do you believe?" I got to thinking about that when the ghost asked the question. Even more so at the end when the boy and his sister could hear the sleigh bell yet their parent's couldn't. You know what? I can. I refuse to let it go.

It's about all there is left. There is so much I do not believe in, I find a degree of comfort in being able to believe in the magic of Christmas. Even with all the commercialization and the minimizing of the religious aspects of the season, it remains the most happy time of the year. There is a nip in the air, people tend to be more cheery. The sights and smells of the season are warm and inviting from roaring fireplaces to the twinkling lights that adorn just about everything.

Have you ever gone into a Christmas shop in the middle of summer? Doesn't it take you right back to the season? No wonder the 4th of July has barely passed when we start to see the beginnings. It's far too soon, there are other holidays to enjoy, but I understand it. Nothing else is as festive for adults and children alike.

For this one Friday I'll set aside all that I don't believe in any more. Beliefs that have been tarnished by age and experience. Today I'll get ready for the December Art Walk where people will be meeting and greeting and carolers will be singing. Wine will be sipped and surely in these temperatures our noses will be nipped.

Too soon this holiday season will be tucked away for another year. The year itself will be summed up for New Years. Highlights and lowlights. List upon list naming those who have left us. When you come right down to it, I don't find New Year's all that festive any more. Maybe that's why we no longer stay up until midnight to welcome it.

But that bell. I hear it. I need to hear it.

Right Within Our Own Borders

Though out of the headlines for the moment, the issue of a Palestinian homeland is still at the center of any hope for Middle Eastern peace. Looking at the map and seeing the dwindling territory from what once was theirs made me realize we have a not so different situation right here within our borders.

It has caused a great deal of bitterness between the Hopi and the Navajo for many were displaced from lands on which they had lived for generations. I haven't made a study of all aspects of it but it has been going on since the 1800s. The rancor remains.

What's interesting to me is how it affects the daily lives of those who live there. It's a strange entanglement because it's hard to find a pure Hopi or a pure Navajo yet, as in the case of our friends, they'll fight over who and where potters can dig their clay!

Many Hopis and Navajos have married one another. Utes and Paiutes and Apache come into the mix not to mention whites. Our friends' daughter is married to a native of Tonga. How's that for blending blood lines?

So what do we have in the end? Indians. American Indians. Any lineage other than that is blurred!

Over time things have gotten complicated. These Indian nations are considered sovereign. They have their own government, their own police and they subsidize their own people with proceeds from coal and oil operations as well as their casinos. The thing is, we also subsidize them. It's all tangled up in treaties from years past I guess but the reservations for the most part have become welfare states.

They live differently than we do. Many live in abject poverty. In many parts of the reservations you can't get a cell phone signal. How novel. They don't have yards with well groomed lawns and kids on swing sets. They view life differently. Most of us don't really understand their culture. Sound familiar?

We travel that country often, yet I never get used to seeing cows and horses, sheep and goats and dogs lying dead and bloated along the roads. This isn't wildlife road kill. These animals are their bread and butter. It's just - different.

I've often wondered if it would be better to mainstream them into our society. After all, with all the inter-marriage they, being the first peoples, are the most American of all!

It is sad to me that these people harbor anger among themselves. It just doesn't seem right.

Dog Daze Of Vacation

I love dogs. You who follow this blog know it. A shy three months have passed since we lost our beloved Bacchus. The emotion still bubbles to the surface, sometimes at the most unexpected of times.

That's one reason we were anxious to take our trip. To get a change of scenery and let some of the memories fade. The fact that he accompanied us on our route many times over the years might suggest we should have done something different, but we had places we wanted to revisit and friends we wanted to see. We were enjoying the freedom of fewer rest stops, and in some cases better motels. We were on a quest. To find pinion wood for our fire pit. Oh, that aroma!

We purposely left Durango to shun pike through Chama, past the Ghost Ranch and south toward Santa Fe in hopes of finding a roadside truck filled with the aromatic wood for sale. We whizzed by a few before I suggested to Hub he might slow down a bit. It was difficult to see anything ahead of time when we were whipping down the road at 60+ miles per hour! Approaching Santa Fe, traffic took care of the problem and I spotted a whole yard full of piles of fire wood.

They must have pinion! Another pickup was backing onto the property and a pleasant looking young man emerged, talking on his cell phone. "Anyone home?" I asked.

"No one answers," he replied keeping his eye on a passel of dogs who were doing the same of us.

That's when I saw him. In this forsaken excuse of a yard, covered in desert dust. A Saint Bernard. Laying exactly as Bacchus is in the picture. Just watching. I wanted to go to him so badly I had to consciously restrain myself.

"No answer," the young man said.

"Knocking on the door would be less than prudent, " I suggested.

"Too many dogs for me," he agreed.

Yep. Reluctantly I rejoined Hub in our truck. "You can't be sure he's friendly," he said quietly. I just nodded.

On we went. In Santa Fe I scratched the ears of a sweet old Shar Pei that was the house dog at the Christmas Shop. I felt a little better.

Then when visiting our friends in Bloomfield, NM, I got my first real dog fix since August. They raise Bassets and had two puppies left from the latest litter. After dinner, we were introduced and they, along with Mom, were all over me to my unending delight.

The puppies soon were bored with this old lady curled comfortably into the corner of a couch enmeshed in conversation, but I was perfect for Mom. She crawled up next to me and after shuffling around a bit found her comfort zone flat on her back, all four paws totally relaxed, her head in my lap. For the rest of our stay she remained with me as I scratched her ears and brisket; we were both at peace with the world.

They tried mightily to get us to take a puppy. It isn't time yet, by any means, and besides we'd have not been able to take just one. Oh my.

Hub learned something about me on this trip if he didn't already know it. Put an approachable canine anywhere near me and it will always be lovingly acknowledged!

Halloween As A Liberal Holiday

It's raining. It's Friday. The nuts are on the highways. And the radio.

Hub and I were running errands. Conservative talk show host, Sean Hannity was on the radio. He was railing on about how Halloween is a Liberal holiday because it teaches kids to go door to door begging for something for nothing. Wow. Now I realize it takes a lot to fill the hours allotted to talk radio hosts day in and day out, but how absurd does one have to get?

Maybe that's the way it's looked at today. It sure was different when I was a kid. Having grown up Catholic, November first was All Saints Day and we always had to drag our selves out of bed, shrug off our candy high, and hustle off to Mass because it was a Holy Day of Obligation. In other words you had to go.

The night before was Halloween. It really began as a Celtic tradition. You know how those Irish love to party! So, the night before All Hallows was Hallow's Eve; Hallowe'en. The night when the dead wandered, evil dead. People put out food and drink to mollify the creatures before evil befell them.

The tradition continued and morphed into what we as kids knew. Before vandalism and poisoned treats ruined it, kids would spend the night, or maybe even a few nights, before soaping windows, ringing doorbells and running, or rat-a-tatting windows with a homemade notched spool spun with string. Off into the dark we would run giggling at our daring.

Halloween night we'd dress in our homemade costumes and go door to door looking for treats to avoid a repeat performance. It worked, you know, we always got treats.

It's a sad day when all that's left of a tradition for kids is a misconception of what it was about not to mention the politicizing of it.

When happenings like this were more than my Mom could grasp she always slipped into the mantra of how the time she had left on this earth was short and that she had been fortunate enough to have lived in the good old days.

I understand. I really understand. It makes one wonder what kinds of memories kids today will have when they look back at their good old days. I hope it's more than Halloween being a Liberal holiday!

Some Prejudices Die Hard!

Basing his reason on observations, a Louisiana Justice of the Peace refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple. He claims not to be racist but rather he's concerned about the future of any children which might come from the union.

This in a town just shy of 18,000 in the latest census. How times are changing, and not. I can't help believe the gentleman truly believes what he says, no matter that he is breaking the law. In his life and his community he sees that mixed marriages tend not to last and that children tend to be shunned by both races.

I'm sure there are many pockets throughout the country where the same holds true. On a larger scale, however, interracial marriages are not so uncommon especially if you include other races in the equation. I have several friends who have had their children marry a different race. I have friends my age who have also, though it wasn't necessarily as easy for them as it is now.

This day and age I'm thinking the success of an interracial marriage has more to do with the man and woman involved far more than race. As for the children, well, that should come down to parenting. How the issue is handled within the family will prepare the child for life outside it. It should not come from the suppositions of a Justice of the Peace before children are even conceived, no matter how well meaning he may be.

Perhaps calls for his resignation should be heeded. The couple received their license from another Justice of the Peace in the same parish three days later.

When I think of interracial couples who are role models perhaps one should look at former Secretary of Defense Bill Cohen and his wife Janet.

As for the offspring of a mixed race couple, well I can think of one where the Grandparents accepted the challenge after the death of his mother. The marriage didn't last, but the boy was not shunned by family even though he bears the racial characteristics of his father more than those of his mother. All things considered, Barack Obama has done pretty well for himself.