I call this "Things That Fly"

I shall attempt to ease myself back into writing again by creating a theme for this first post in nearly one year.  The theme is "Things That Fly" only because I began by picking five photographs from this summer and they all had flight in common.   In case some might be wondering about where my writing has been this last year, let me respond by saying that I feel as though someone has absconded with both my creative mind and my initiation skills.  It is rare, of late, that I have had just first of all, time to sit and write, and secondly, the discipline to do so.   But I have noticed that, as the last few months have gone along, I am restless, indecisive and panicking to put words out there.  My mind is in so many places, I am not even sure where to begin.  There is much to tell, yet much to keep close to my vest, simply out of love for others.  Therefore, I must proceed with calculated caution.

Above: Tethered balloons at Lakefest 2013  

This is a great opportunity to visit and talk with people whom you may not see often.  Because I am not myself these days, I lounged on a towel and stayed very close to my children.  I am not quite the conversationalist I would like to be and I avoid people more than I used to.  It is sad, but I have become painfully, socially awkward, much like I used to be prior to my years at college.  For the most part, I am most comfortable with family and close friends, because they are good at making me feel safe.  I realize this part of the story exposes some real vulnerability on my part; this is who I am at this stage of life.  Anyway, my youngest had decided to brave the balloon ride this year.  It was to finally be her year.  Once she got in the basket and she heard the burner, terror set in and she became Edvard Munch's The Scream.  My girlfriend got it on film, but Elena would kill me if the photograph ever made its way onto the internet.

Above: Wild ponies in Corova lending a resting spot for a bird.  

I understand this is not quite symbiosis, but at least the bird has a place to light for a while.  The pony says, "What have you done for me lately?"

The Dude and I own this lovely bit of sand up on the four-wheel-drive area north of Corolla.  We have big dreams of one day building a house there.  It would be a rental property but we would also be able to enjoy it during the year.  It is a nice dream.  When we visit there, it almost seems like it could come true in a heartbeat.  But then we come home to reality and it seems as though the dream might never come to fruition.  Oh well, as Pete quipped in the movie Rudy, "Having dreams is what makes life tolerable." You can see that here--> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdYI9hwf-tk

Above: Osprey with his prey in the dead tree behind our place.

Above: Our nation's bird, The Bald Eagle, in the dead tree behind our place.

That dead tree is quite a hangout for all sorts of birds, especially buzzards and crows.  Occasionally, we have special visitors like ospreys and eagles.  I love where we live, mainly for this reason.  We have wildlife all around our home.  I find it relaxing to watch the turkeys, owls, deer, foxes, bunnies, and, especially, the birds in the dead tree.

Above: Sandpiper (Scolopacidae) at Kill Devil Hills

There is something very amusing about the behavior of the sandpiper.  They skim along the surf there, constantly searching for some piquant treat in the sand.  Then as the tide comes in, they skitter away, just far enough ahead of the water to avoid getting their feathers wet.  It is like a tiny clown act at the circus, yet it is part of the bird's very survival.  This one probably would not appreciate me being amused at his expense, if he were aware of me, 

which he was not.

And so goes the first entry in about one year.  There is not much to tell, other than I remain, and I feel blessed to remain.  Thank you for reading.

Checking in

It's been quite a long time since I produced a blog entry here. Do people even do this anymore? Is the act of jotting down a few thoughts even en vogue these days? I wonder if technology has left me behind, especially since I never even bothered to open a Twitter account and I don't know what any of the little acronyms and symbols mean. Like, when I cruise through Instagram and I see something like #feedyourface, I don't understand what the little pound sign is for. And then I look at some of the other blogs out there and I see how complex they are...do these people have real jobs and kids and other stuff to do?? My little footprint looks so lame over here on blogger. It's more like booger.

Anyway, where have I been for these last months? At the risk of sounding like a "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" report, I'll sum it up like this- I set out with two goals this summer. #1 (and I know what the pound sign means in this context) Spend as much time with Mom as possible without making a nuisance of myself. #2 Spend real quality time with my children and put aside selfish personal pursuits in order to do so. This includes living on FB continuously, blogging, even reading and scrapbooking. I think I accomplished both goals #1 and 2, I even took a poll with my kids. They tell me they had an awesome summer and now they are so excited to be back at school. Yes, there have been brief flashes of inspiration to pull out the laptop and write something...but I simply could not bring myself to turn on the 'hotspot' and pull up my page and do it. If I'm to be totally honest, I think a part of me is running away from my fears and my sadness. I'm not going to dwell on that point here, at least no further than to make another appeal to my friends and readers to continue to lift Mom up in their prayers. I can tell you that we enjoyed some tacos together this evening and three of the the grandkids managed to entertain in their special way... I'll leave that to your imagination.

This school year promises to be a busy one for me and challenging for my girls. The funny thing is, as busy as I know it will be, it doesn't seem to phase me these days. I hope this positive outlook continues despite the few folks who like to fling their negativity around like stinky poo. If you see me, I'll either be smiling or I'll have my focus face on. Focus face doesn't mean I'm unhappy. It only means my head is full of my to do list...so for the love of tacos, don't say something asinine, like "smile Stephanie"- I could smack people for that. Don't ever presume that someone is unhappy and needs you to tell them to smile. Nothing makes me go from a perfectly awesome mood (albeit with a neutral, focus-face) to a totally annoyed condition faster than the directive to smile. How about you go find something productive to do since you are so bored that you have to worry about what my facial expression is. I'm not directing this to you, fine feathered friends and readers; just venting about this little pet peeve of mine. Anyway, back to my point, this is going to be a great school year, I'm positive!

The Dude will be back on stage next month in the lead for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I was not excited about this at all until we sat down and watched the movie together. I must say, it was one of the best movies I've ever seen. I was sad when it ended. So now I'm excited to see how it goes here in our little community theater with hubby as the lead.

One last note: I had the BEST of intentions that I would write this detailed entry on our trip out to Yellowstone and surrounding areas this summer. It never happened. The closest I got was posting some random photos onto FB. I'm attaching a few of my favorite photos from the trip here. Go to Yellowstone. It's awesome. That is all I have on that for now.

...where the evening meal is negotiable if there is one.

A completely irrelevant title for my ramblings. The thing is my kids have fallen in love with Paul Simon's Rhythm of the Saints and for now, they want me to play it every time they are in my car. It's so cute when you realize how cool your kids are. Their taste in music is so like their Dad's it's not funny. And the things I love that he doesn't care for, well they just happen to dislike as well.

I'm sitting here at Duke Radiation Oncology waiting for Mom's appointment and today she has run into a familiar face and she is enjoying a normal conversation with this lovely smiling person. I'm so grateful for friendly people because it makes a difference when sweet people reach out and treat you like a person.

Here, enjoy some of what the kids and I are enjoying!

The Coast

Proof

Yah! We love Paul.

FROG

"Helpless now I stand..." -Hodel

I know that it seems ridiculous, but this may be my favorite photograph ever taken of myself. Of course, it's me pretending to be someone else, and I'm wearing a funny hat, and I'm singing really loudly, which is the only way I know to sing.

Anyway, I feel helpless. I'm guessing this is a natural feeling. Some days I get angry, but mostly I feel helpless. Then I feel guilty for focusing so much on what I'm feeling.

I used to think I was a pretty strong person but nowadays, inside, I'm an emotional train wreck. I do a fairly good job of hiding it and so everybody thinks I'm on the level. Truth be known, I'm just a ball of nerves, rolling down to the bottom of a rocky hill, hoping for a soft splash into a pool. At this point, I'm hoping not to land against a tree or into more turbulent waters (i.e., the Upper Gauley). It's just that none of us knows what to expect out of the situation. With Mom beginning her radiation and chemotherapy drugs tomorrow, I can't help but be scared for what is to come. So many potentials and no certainties. Possible sickness, hair loss, short term memory fails, emotional turmoil, you name it, these things are all looming over us like a giant storm cloud. And are we promised sunshine later? No, I think not. I hate stepping into a giant unknown and I hate it that Mom has to lead the way for us all. She made the comment after her first visit to Duke that although the new cancer center is beautiful, all the people appeared as if they were thrown adrift in a sea without a life-raft; and that she is one of those people. It is the most tragically poetic thing I've ever heard my mother say. I don't want her to feel adrift, and damn it, I don't want to feel that way either.

My good friend, Lucy, whom I love so so dearly, wrote in an IM to me today "FROG" This means "Fully Rely on God" and then she followed it by saying that I WAS strong despite how I was feeling right then. Lucy and her FROG are my inspiration for today's post. Thanks Mrs.Lucy for your continued support and love and prayers.

Step through the door for Normal's room and look around.

It didn't last very long but I was able to catch a glimpse of Normal for a little while. She was playing in her room, in the corner labeled "Crabtree Valley Mall". She was beautiful.

It rained buckets in Raleigh, but we were undeterred because in a mall, you don't much care what the weather is out of doors. My mom had been itching to go shopping at Crabtree for weeks. She seemed to be carefully storing away some extra energy like a hungry squirrel. For us, making a plan like this is a daunting task. It's kind of like holding your breath to dive down into the deep end in hopes to find the ring you just lost 11 ft. down. Who knows what you are liable to come up with. Thanks to a wonderful friend and brother and sister-in-law, my kids were taken care of for the day so I could roll with whatever happened.

Mom and I got a late start due to some fresh-homemade-tiramasu-bearing visitors who had stopped in, (I am absolutely not complaining- you NEVER complain about delicious desserts being delivered to you.) and then we were off.

She wanted to shop; she shopped. She needed some space and independence, I gave it to her, not going too far of course, as I'm horribly protective. She very much blew me away with her ability to be herself. The woman is strong and determined and very much wants to be back to being her. Shopping is a big part of that. Shopping alone, being free to browse where she pleased, is a big part of that. For me, stopping in for a quick snack at Khanki's sushi bar makes Cinco de Mayo totally bearable. I make chit chat everywhere I go, so the chef and I got along famously. All in all, it was the most normal thing I had personally done in a long time. Really since March 23rd...you never completely push your reality out of your thoughts, but it's nice to bury it under receipts and shoes and jewelry and clothes.

Therefore, after 37 years of being on planet earth, I finally understand Retail Therapy.

Warning: Angry Post Ahead

It's not that there's any new information out there. It's not that something worse has happened. I'm just ANGRY today! I am so angry at this whole cancer thing. I hate it. I hate cancer. I want to kill it. I want it to die and leave my mother, and so many other beautiful people alone! If it were a giant beast lumbering around in my yard, I would go out with a sling blade and hack it to bits and then I would laugh in its mutilated face. I hate you, stupid disease. Die you dirty, sorry, sack of ... well you know the rest.

And this is how it goes. I have a little peace and then I'm sad and then I just want to throw something like a tantrumming child.

I mean, hey, I know we all have to go sometime. But nobody bargains for this crap. What a load of bologna. (As a side, folks may wonder how it is that I can hold my faith in God through this sort of weather. My answer to this is "If I abandon my Lord during a storm, how can I expect Him NOT to abandon me?" I'm angry at mutating glial cells, not God.)

I want use lots of lots of expletives here. I'm used to them shooting out of mouth most anytime; however, it's just not nice to type them here when most anyone can pull it up and read my words. Just know, that today, I'm pretty ticked off at this ridiculous disease and it can kiss my butt.

Have you ever?

Have you ever stared up to a starry sky?

Last night, after the opening night of Fiddler on the Roof, and after relaxing with a few friends, I looked up at the stars and thanked the Good Lord for such an awesome evening.  Not only did the show go well, but my beautiful Mom was able to come and actually enjoy it.  I had feared and fretted that the stars would not align properly and she wouldn't feel like sitting for a three hour show.  But I fretted for nought. The Lord is SO GOOD!
I had said to myself that if I could get through this one night, with Mom watching, and give her the best performance I personally could give, then the rest of the nights would be a piece of cake.  This remains to be seen of course, but I think I did my very best last night and I enjoyed every second of it.  All day, prior to curtain, I was pumped up, as if on some illicit street drug.  It's amazing what adrenaline can do for you. I felt the way I feel when I reach the end of a tremendous, exhilarating hike in the mountains.  You know, the kind of trail that takes you up and up until you reach a gorgeous hanging lake filled with trout?  That kind of high.

Additionally, I find myself amazed at the talent in the cast and crew of the show.  I find it so cool that I'm working with brilliant actors!  I'm enjoying the experience of acting with my Dad and also pretending to be, what, fifteen?  I pull of fifteen pretty well I think!  Ha!  I don't usually laugh at my own jokes...

Anyway, four more shows.  Prepare to be amazed.  This may be little C'ville, but we put together a killer show!

Musings of a Tired Girl

Mama had said, lying in her ICU bed in Lynchburg, "I want to have a party. I want ya'll to cook some Boston Butts. Everybody bring a dish. And I'm not going to lift a finger! Ha ha ha!" Even in her weakened state, she was party planning. I can tell you, she didn't lift a finger tonight but I suspect she had a mighty fine time. Thankfully, she was having a really good day (as opposed to one of those other days when she was so sleepy she was unable to find a good reason to get out of her chair). So many wonderful people attended her little soiree, from family members to friends to acquaintances just wanting to show support. It was amazing! I felt God's presence in so many of the happenstanceness (I know, not a word, so I made it up) that made up this great event. You know, the kind of random things that made a party memorable and amazing. Mama's cousin, whom I have only seen one other time in my life, just happened to be visiting from Rhode Island and came to be with her tonight. We just happened to have the very best cooks in the world working on those famous Boston Butts. Seeing Mama sitting in the sun, early in the afternoon, shooting the breeze with a small crowd, was a beautiful thing. In her attempt to give a small speech, she brought several of us to tears with two simple sentences. I just can't get over the strength this woman has in the face of adversity. Some of my close friends came and showed their support and so many people said all the right encouraging things. The above photo shows a small amount of the people who came, beginning to line up to eat. There's no telling how many people attended tonight and I am thankful for each one! Mama showed off her appetite for all the wonderful food people brought. Thankfully, she still loves food! She got to sit at the table with her cousins and this seemed to be the best medicine. It's not often you have so many of the extended family all in one place. Some very talented guitar players just happened to pull out their instruments and play as some of us sang along (and then along with that, I was able to pin down my accompanist for an upcoming wedding- yay!). Just when I thought Mama was losing steam, Herbert brought in her baby, Trac the furry maltese, and sat him in her lap. You have never seen such a smile! I guess I never realized how therapeutic a small pooch could be.

I had an inspiring conversation with one of my favorite people and she said to me that on some days I would have 'stand in the gap' when Mama could not. This got me thinking about the Lord and His Miracles, His Greatness and His Grace, His Mercy and His Love. I've always believed in God on some level but I've not always understood many things about God and the mysteries that go along with having a faith in a supreme being. I know some people go to churches where they seem to experience the Spirit on a level I can't quite figure out. They 'lay hands' and they are more verbal than I'm used to. They might 'speak in tongues' and they may even heal the sick right there on the spot. I do not in any way dispute these experiences. I just can't help but wonder why I've not had the gift of the Spirit come on me in a public place like that. It's another mystery. Anyone who knows my own story, which shall not grace this writing, knows that I have my own experience with The Lord. My good friend, Christy and her hubby once told me that I seemed, for a while there, to have a 'direct line to God,' and I absolutely did. Trust me, it's a party line, anybody can call Him on it. And the other mystery to me is how so many wonderful people I know who don't know God and don't believe that a 'Maker' even exists. It is so strange to me how the human race runs the gamut from one extreme to the other. So back to standing in the gap. I came home tonight, tired as I am, and determined to write a blog entry to give my humble perspective on the celebration, found the need to research 'standing in the gap' just a bit. I found several webpages which gave the scripture where it can be found in the Bible and other miscellaneous sites, but the one I really like is this one -> http://www.bible-knowledge.com/tbn-testimony-stand-in-the-gap/ with an amazing testimony illustrating just what 'standing in the gap' even means. So I learned some stuff too and that's always a good thing.

To all the wonderful friends, family, and acquaintances, I just want to say how grateful I am that you attended Mama's party. And didn't she just GLOW, even when she began to get weary!? You all have given her support and encouragement that will continue to carry her in her fight and I can't begin to thank you for that! Wow! What else can I say? And Amen!

Life and How to Live It

LIFE AND HOW TO LIVE IT

I look in all sorts of places for hope these days. Mom's attitude is wonderful; this gives me hope. She gets stronger everyday; this gives me hope. Last night, she said to me on the phone, "I don't think the Physical Therapist had me up walking enough. I'm going to ask for more walking tomorrow." HOPE HOPE HOPE! I must say, my Mom is AWESOME! I found a page today on Duke Hospital's website which I will share right here. It if full of HOPE! I also found an interview with Dr. Friedman at Duke's Brain Tumor Center which gives me HOPE also. When I found out, through my sister, yesterday that Both Dr. Allan Friedman and Dr. Henry Friedman had agreed to take on Mom's case, I began to cry and praise Jesus. The Lord has given us this HOPE!

I went to play practice last night with this praise on my mind and it was a much better practice than the last one, where I became breathless and numb, and angry and hysterical. Mom says she's going to try to come to the opening night and so I have every motivation to be the best Hodel in the world for her.

The above photograph was taken at the Rembrandt exhibit in Raleigh, NC. It was the last excursion she took with her granddaughters (sorry, Bentley probably wouldn't have enjoyed Rembrandt). We took the trip thinking it would be fun before she had her last back surgery. We never dreamed we would be where we are now. I had been kind of dreaming about going to the beach with her and the kids this summer for a long weekend. I'm still holding on to that one, and why not? I haven't been on vacation with Mom in many years. To write off this wish would mean I've given up HOPE, which I'm not.

The spiderman is having me for dinner tonight.

This is how I imagine I would feel if it were me. Annelise and I were driving home late from the hospital last night and we were jamming The Cure's Disintegration. When Lullaby played, I thought, "yep, that weirdness is just how I'd feel.". Let's face it, I'm known to be weird anyway.

So, with that being said, I'll launch into what parts of the story I can tell. Remember, of course, the last few days are a blur for me as well as for my Mom. I hesitated about writing all this, but I guess it's no different from connecting with people through Caring Bridge. So many people are concerned and I can't thank people enough for their concern, thoughts, prayers and love.

I thank God that she was surrounded by people when the seizures began. After a couple days of waiting and anxiety, an MRI revealed a lesion (later called a mass then finally a tumor) about the size of a 'shooter' marble, what Mom affectionately calls a 'belly buster'. It was located above her right eye on the frontal lobe, a place, the neurologist assures us, that's about the best place for a mass to be.

This news was akin to being punched square in the belly despite two days of personal mental preparation. It was in the midst of my 5 a.m. P90X workout Monday morning that I lost it and began to cry. We had to pause Tony and his maddening routine for a few minutes. I blame this on a well-placed photograph of Mom on the shelf next to the television.

Tuesday was a big day. We bid adieu to Mister Tumor. If I could have au revoir-ed that heifer out a window, I would have. But I couldn't. They had plans for it in Pathology. So we wait. We wait to see what kind of lesionmasstumor we happen to be dealing with. One of the text messages I received Tuesday was a co-worker asking if we had a name for it. I answered back, "George". (see this is what I do in times of duress- make completely inappropriate, irresponsible and ridiculous jokes that no one really appreciates. And yes, I say duress, as I feel psychologically pressured.)

'George' being gone, we await pathology results to know where we go from here. I suppose the answers to this will be fodder for the next entry. Wednesday's follow-up MRI showed that they got it all. There are no residuals of 'George' left thanks to the wonderful Dr. Kucia, a neurosurgeon of epic proportions as far as I'm concerned. However, not all the doctors are in agreement with this interpretation...and so we wait...more.

I just can't say enough good things about this hospital. These are the best doctors and nurses. The neurological ICU is top notch all the way. Hey I can't even complain about the hospital food. I've been making myself some killer salads. Now, Mom proabably will disagree on this point as the Speech Pathologist has only cleared her to eat purée. This is code for 'moosh'. She wasnt nearly thrilled about eating that as we were to see her actually eat today.

Through an acquaintance of Herb, Mom's name was even added to the prayer list at Thomas Road Baptist Church, which I think is über cool. This means several hundreds of people will be lifting her up in prayer, on top of all the people back home already praying.

For anyone reading, thank you for your thoughts, prayers, concern, love and positive energy! No one will ever know how much all the calls, texts and Facebook messages mean to us. Wednesday she said she wants us to cook a pig for a party and she won't lift a finger! I love it! She's ready to party and I hope many of our family and friends can join us when we celebrate her recovery. This is down the road a ways of course, but I look forward to having her return home with us. Please forgive my typos as I'm typing on an iPad and there's a lot going on around me. I refuse to proofread today, so sorry 'bout dat!

Respirations

We spent the better part of the day watching a two-digit number rise and fall. It was sort of like watching a loved one rumble by on a roller coaster. You kind of wave at them as you watch them smile right before they begin to ascend an almost vertical hill. You think, "geez I'm glad I decided not to get on that ride.". But, of course, she never was given a choice about this event. It just was. I had tickets for a seafood boil and oyster fest in the neighboring county. This is another reminder that making plans can sometimes be a foolish endeavor. It's a no-brainier that I would pack my overnight bag and declare that, like a cat, I can sleep anywhere...and so I am. After all, this is my Mom we are talking about. If you are reading this entry and you wonder what's going on, well your guess is as good as mine. All I can really say is, we are in an excellent hospital and we have the best nurses and a neurologist who interned at the Mayo Clinic. Hey, he had me at Mayo. There have been improvements in her status. Mom is basically stable and so we wait for answers. Diagnostics are on-going in a place like this. As I said, we watched numbers most of the day. How are her lungs functioning? Some effort was spent on trying to keep her calm and cool her down when she had a hot flash. And then before I knew it, it's late and official visiting hours are over. Me, I'm working on four hours of sleep so I'm looking forward to melting into this very nice recliner I've picked out for myself. They just had a gunshot wound come in, along with his distraught loved one who speaks loudly to someone on the phone. She's complaining a lot about the messy weather outside and there is some impatience with hospital staff. Her tone is acrid and I hope she doesn't make anymore telephone calls as I don't require her negative energy. I haven't a complaint in the world despite my anxiety over Mom's condition. They are taking good care of her, she is resting, and they take good care of family members as well. I realize that not everyone who might read this is a Christian and may not pray to any deity. I must admit that I have become so accustomed to drawing strength from my Lord Jesus, that I could not imagine traveling this path without Him. I am grateful that, during a time when I tried to walk away from God, he turned out to be relentless in his pursuit of me.

Bailey's Irish Rudy aka That Rude

How can you not love this face?

I am up late with Rudy on my mind. Earlier, I had received the news, or maybe it was confirmation in my world of denial, that our sweet boxer has cancer. Our veterinarian, whom we trust, says this isn't treatable. But he was surprised at how well Rudy was doing. Rudy-dog is a tough guy after all. I was told that we're going to have make a decision as his quality of life will not go on to be as good as it has been. Of course, on the way home from his appointment, I cried. And then, later as I was at my desk, it hit me again, even harder- I'm going to have to get used to the idea of saying good-bye again. It feels like I just did this with Hakeem the Dream. We lost That Weem in the fall of 2009 and I still pine away for that dog. Chris found Rudy in 2001 and so we've known him longer than we've known our oldest daughter. Chris says that Rudy is the first pet that was all his. I must admit, I was a little miffed when he walked into our first home with this puppy and hadn't asked me about it first. But he was the cutest little puppy I had ever seen with all that extra skin and one brindle ear. I always liked to say that he has a face only a mother could love, and I do love it! Rudy is riddled with bad, recessive genes. Being a white boxer, he knows he's lucky to have survived. Without his one brindle ear he would have been like most whites, deaf or dead. He's always had weird skin allergies, shed like crazy and looked at the UPS man with serious, paranoid disdain. He has, all his life, acted a little bit aloof, much like a person. I must say he's been an awesome pet. He has literally looked after my children as they have grown up. When they play outside, he's never far away. Even now, being as sick as he is, he follows us whenever we jog, ride bikes and go to the lake. He's on three legs since an injury back last winter and he still keeps up with us. He never complains. That is the worst part of this whole ordeal. This 10 1/2 year old boxer-pup never tells you that he is in pain. He lets you doctor on him and tend to him and he has never snapped, growled or whimpered. He still eats like it's his last meal and then goes and kicks Lilly out of her bowl. He just acts normal, with the exception of slowing down in his old age.

Today, at the vet's office, Rudy came up to me and put his head on my knee, as if to say, "Rub my ear, I need you." It's like he has seen this movie and he knows how it ends. And now, I lie awake in the night and think about what this dog means to me and my family. I suppose I'm going to come at this like I did with Hakeem. I'll feed him whatever I can get him to eat as his health declines and we'll keep him warm and comfortable. We'll show him as much love as a family can give to a family member and then when it's time, he'll let us know. This is how it went down before and it wasn't easy. I expect this will be no easier. I keep asking myself, why do we get pets? We know this is inevitable with all God's creatures. But, in my heart, I know that our lives are so much richer having loved these animals and having been loved by them.
This photo was taken during the summer of 2011. We adopted Lillybelle in 2010 to keep Rudy company after we lost Hakeem in '09. They have gotten along very well since she came to us.
Here Rudy enjoys hosting the Bailey Seafood Boil in 2010. He was still on all fours in this shot. As you can see, his facial expression doesn't change much from photo to photo.
This is almost my all-time favorite photo of Rudy and Hakeem together- the Yin and the Yang.

Fried Dough Night

Each week, The Dude has a night here and a night there when he has an evening meeting or hangs out with some golf buddies. This gives me the 'night off' from worrying about cooking a meal. (I'm still one of those wives who likes to make sure we get some kind of meal on the table for our men, when they're around.) But when it's just the kiddos and myself, we make it easy on ourselves. Sometimes this means mac n' cheese and carrots, corndog and apples, chicken nuggets and bananas... or popcorn, this is always a viable option.

But this doesn't mean I take a break from the kitchen completely. This just means I get some extra time to play around in there. I spend 75% of my time at home in that room. I love it in there. I hang out in there often, sometimes it's just me and the grapes.

Lately, I've been agonizing over all the things I should have learned from Grandma Fleta before she passed from this world to the next. I say lately, but what I really mean is probably most days since 1999.

My most recent quest was to figure out how she made those awesome little fried doughnuts she used to make me when I was a kid. Comfort food at it's most simple yumminess.

As you can see, this time I just started with my own biscuit dough, which I learned from my Mother-in-law. Then I made holes in the middle, well duh, and deep fried those babies in peanut oil. I use the Fry-Daddy but I'm guessing my Grandma used a deep iron skillet.
Taking photos over top of the Fry-Daddy can be hazardous to your face and camera.

Following the oil-bath, they were generously dredged in powdered sugar. My favorite part is the doughnut holes themselves. There's just something about those little power-houses of fried dough in one tiny bite! Yummy!
The girls seem happy with them, but did they resemble my Grandma's doughnuts? Well who knows really, it's been a while but I'm thinking I got close enough to suit me. Making touchstones with your far gone memories is one thing I'm sure we can't do perfectly. But when it's food, as long as it tastes delicious and your memories are simply an inspiration, I'm thinking you can't really go wrong.

Saying goodbye

You were a bright spot in my Tuesday afternoon routine. Always a smile and a hug for me amid the noise of this busy little place. How will I ever wait on the couch for my children's piano lessons to end again without thinking of you? And wondering what you were going to become? Someone said last night you had so much going for you, so much talent. You also had so much love to give to so many people and music that seemed nonstop! I am so blessed to have known you and I thank you for always letting me be myself around you. I will always remember the look on your face when I said on that last Tuesday, "I could just curl up next to you like an old cat." You moved everything out of the way, patted the spot next to you and grinned the widest grin I've seen in a while. It's too bad I wasn't an old cat after all, that spot would have been a pleasant one indeed! Thank you for being so kind to my children. Thank you for encouraging me to learn to play a violin at my old, crotchety age and not making faces when I sounded terrible. Thank you for being my friend and sharing your stories and dreams with me. I am honored to be counted among this group of people with whom you shared yourself. I shall think of you each time I'm at Carter's, each time I play Angry Birds, each time I watch The Big Lewbowski, each time I hear a song from Mumford & Sons, and probably anytime I find a sweet young man sitting around strumming an acoustic guitar. Farewell, sweet Roy. May you be rocking with the Angels above.