Sunday, November 29, 2009

First time for everything.

I think this year might be the first in many years that I have actually been happy about the weather getting colder.  We're supposed to get snow tomorrow... and I'm happy about it.
It's ok, don't call 911.  I don't have a fever, I'm not experiencing dementia.
I'm simply suffering from falling in love with sled dogs.
I've been reading a couple sled dog kennel blogs and they're really hurting with this unseasonably warm weather.  You just can't run these dogs in 50+ degree weather, they can actually suffer heat exhaustion.  Poor things.  If these racers don't get out enough now, they won't be properly conditioned for races this winter and that's just not good.

I didn't know this, but apparently last year the film crew that does the "Deadliest Catch" show actually documented the Iditarod in Alaska.  I found a DVD of the 6 episodes at the library.  I wasn't planning to watch them all at once - so much for that.  I watched the whole thing and was up WAY too late.  I discovered that I absolutely LOVE this woman:


She has participated in the Ididarod since the year before I was born, and she shows no signs of stopping any time soon.  This past March she ran her 27th race.  Of those 27 races, she's only scratched twice.  She's survived a life threatening car crash, breast cancer and had a double massecomy, but she hasn't quit.  She's truly accomplished some incredible things, but the thing I love about her is the relationship she clearly has with her dogs.  You can see it just in the way she talks to them.  I could only hope to be lucky enough to see her cross the finish line in Nome someday.             

Friday, November 20, 2009


I'm standing on the concrete slab with my hands stuffed in my pockets keeping them warm.  One hand clenched around the ID I need to board.  I'm always trying to keep track of that ID.  I don't carry money with me, and if I lose it I've got a big problem.  I'm the only one here.  I position myself about 12 feet from the edge of the slab.  Twelve feet is just the right amount of distance, I think.  A couple other people join me.  Some stand closer to the edge, some further away.  Lots stand near the butt cans with cigarettes in their hands.

The bus arrives.  As people see it pull into the lot, they start moving in my direction.  It comes to a stop right at the edge of the concrete slab.

The bus is full.  There are lots of people that need to get off before any of us can board.  Before the doors even open people start racing past me.  I don't move.  They crowd around the door.  Sometimes they're are so many of them that the people getting off the bus must weave like NFL running backs to get through.  The bus is finally empty, and now even more people push in front of me in their race to board.  I slowly start to take one step at a time toward the door of the bus.  With each step another person arrives and pushes their way in front of me.  I get on the bus, there are still many empty seats.  I choose the one that has the most leg room.  I hate having my knees jammed up against the seat in front of me.  I avoid it whenever I can.

I start to think about what it is that makes people feel they need to push, shove, block, and cut-off anyone between them and boarding this bus.  What is it, exactly?  Why do people do this?  First I ponder, maybe it's a result of people who have not had a lot of opportunities in their lives.  Maybe they have learned they need to fight for everything, because it's the only way they'll ever get anything.  I suppose this is possible, but then wouldn't those who have had darn near everything handed to them (certainly every necessity) in their lives exhibit the opposite behavior?  But, this is not the reality in my experience.  Then again, perhaps the more fortunate exhibit their pushy behavior as a result of a different motivating factor - perhaps they just feel they are entitled to what ever they want.  I'm not sure.  Then I think maybe it's a result of a persons selfish or selfless nature.  I suppose it could be, but I personally can be a pretty selfish person and I don't feel the need to cut people off and force my way onto the bus.  Maybe I'm just not selfish enough.  I don't think i like that theory - too assuming, and highly unlikely.  Maybe it's the way people were raised.  Or whether people are more likely to 'sweat the small stuff'.  I'm definitely not a 'small stuff sweater' - that could explain it.  But my mom used to be prone to sweating the small stuff (I don't think she does as much anymore) and I have never known her to be pushy in these kinds of situations, ever.  Which does lend some support to the idea that how one is raised has much to do with it.  Maybe it's a lack of respect thing.  Though I'm not sure how I feel about just saying that everybody who exhibits this behavior is disrespectful... then again, to some degree, they really are, aren't they ...

WOAH!  That's my stop coming up!

I still don't know the answer... I was just pondering.

Still pondering,

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Always Listen to your Mother

It's true.  They do know best. 

So...say... you were a cat.  And your mother told you to leave the damn bag alone.

It really might be in your best interest to leave the damn bag alone! 

If you don't, this might happen...


I heard rustling of the Schlotzski's bag so I walked into the living room prepared to yell.  This is what I saw.  After I stopped laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, I grabbed the camera as fast as I could and snapped this picture.  Then, I realized he really couldn't get it off and he was beginning to hyperventilate and freak out.  So, like a good mother, I put the camera down and helped him out.  I'm nice like that.  Well, usually.

You think he'll listen to me next time?  I don't.
Cats.  They're not very good at learning their lesson.

I climbed into bed, watched Ever After, and took a nap this evening.  This is what I saw when I walked into my room.  I don't think I'll ever grow tired of this site.


Earlier this week I made this bread.


It looks pretty.  But that's all it has going for it.
It's terrible.  If anybody ever mentions they think cinnamon raisin beer bread sounds like a good idea.  They're wrong.  Run away.  Run away fast.

Love ya,

Monday, November 9, 2009

Naming Photos

Here are some photos I have taken recently.  They're not big stories worthy of a post to themselves, but they're worthy none the less.  So, here they are...

I call this one "Things that make your dog lose his mind and fall in the pond"


This one I have named "Getting through Monday"


"Peace and Quiet"  aka  "Pacifier"


and finally "Ohhhhh booyyy."


Road Trip

On Saturday, Lilly and I took a road trip to Plymouth to see her foster mom and go to a Wildtree party.  We're broke - so we didn't buy anything, but it was nice for Lilly's foster mom to get to see her for the first time since Lilly came home over a year ago.  Lilly didn't react quite like I expected her to.  She seems a little unsure of the whole thing, and slightly confused.

I suppose I shouldn't feel bad about it - she did amazingly well in a strange place with so many people, and it's clear she's become very bonded to me.  She came to me whenever she needed a little boost of confidence, and she was as well behaved as I could ever dream to ask for.

Sometimes I wonder if perhaps she's growing to be too dependant on me, but at the same time I think it's better for her to know she can come to me when she needs me rather than feeling like she has to take on the world by herself.  I see Bailey sometimes struggle with feeling like he can't trust anybody to help him when his confidence wains, and I just can't imagine that's necessarily a better way to live.

Unfortunately, I can't ask them - so I guess I'll just go with my gut on this one.