I think I understand my friend, Kelly, and her “obsession” with concerts… (Kpolark.blogspot.com). My husband took me to see Cavo, Lifehouse, and Daughtry on Saturday night. (I say he took me – I probably dragged him) We had the best seats I have ever had at a concert and as we listened to the music – it all made sense to me.
All of these people different ages, different ethnicities, different backgrounds, all singing along – all coming together to share in the universal language of music. No one cared about anything else - at least not for a few hours.
It was riveting, especially in such a time of turmoil and unrest in our country. The bands were outstanding and the energy they exuded was amazing. Being at that concert re-charged me and gave me inspiration on so many levels.
After treading water last weekend with my submission for my writing retreat, being at the concert put so many things in perspective. One: I am an artist or at least I am attempting to be an artist and that, alone, means struggle.
The bands we watched Saturday night struggled, too. I sat thinking about: how many bars they probably played at and how many demo tapes they sent in waiting to be discovered - even, how Daughtry failed at American Idol only to achieve greater success afterwards. They never backed down because they believed in themselves and that is what I must do: believe in myself.
I have to have faith in my ability and the story I have to tell and, above all else, I have to believe that it IS what I need to focus on. I have to quit allowing everything else to get in the way because this IS important to me.
And, I don’t just mean random everyday stuff like laundry or gardening: I mean baggage. Things that find a way to interfere with what I believe in – things that emotionally burden us and force us off track. I have to be done with all that stuff that doesn’t matter.
I don’t want things that get in the way to define me – I want my passions to define me: the animals, the writing, all the parts of me that matter not all of the little stuff that gets in the way of pursuing them: all of the stuff that stunts me, paralyzes me from achieving my goals and dreams.
It was freeing that revelation – the concert – the whole night. It made me re-discover who I am and where I want to go and even why I want to go “there.” I want to be a part of that magic - not the fame and fortune - but the opportunity for people to escape because of my ability to tell a story - to transcend them for a little while to a place that takes away all of their cares and worries. That is what I want and it is time to make THAT my priority.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Truths: Agony
I just hit the send button on an email… an email that has the potential to change my life – good or bad… I do not know.
I signed up for a week long writing retreat at UW Madison in June. Thinking that it is was a “retreat” and an incredible opportunity to work on my book about my experience since rescuing Thorp at a puppy mill auction.
A retreat, right? Doesn’t a retreat sound tranquil, peaceful- a quiet refuge?
To my horrid surprise – there will be nothing tranquil about this… It is work. I received our first homework assignment last week and it was anything but easy. In fact, it was nauseating.
At first there was confusion, which made me panic. The original course I signed up for was filled –go figure – so based on recommendations, I chose a fiction course on finishing up your novel. Even though my book is non-fiction – it is considered creative non-fiction so the thought was that it would all work out fine.
Until, I made the mistake of sending in my plot summary and leaving out all of the creative parts – leaving the instructor pondering why I was in her class at all.
Perhaps, I have written too many newspaper articles where I had to tell a two page story in 2 columns…my plot summary left out all of my emotion and there wasn’t anything creative about it.
I was crushed…and panicked and unable to sleep.
I had been dreaming about this course – this retreat – and now, I was left wondering if I was unwanted…unworthy...
I tossed and turned and decided that I could use all the help I could get – that I just had to suck it up and re-write my plot summary. My book IS good - damn it and I had to believe in myself or I was never going to get it past the print button on my own computer.
I have spent the last 48 hours revising a 1 ½ page plot summary. 48 hours contemplating a comma, a word a paragraph and still, my stomach is knots.
Writing a book within your own 4 walls is safe – having a few friends critique it – is safe – printing it at a box store – is safe…BUT, sharing it with other novel writers…is NOT safe. Everything I love about my book – everything that makes it mine – is open…and because it is a true story – reflecting ME – I become open and no longer safe.
And, I am scared to death!
Hitting that send button meant that I was good with what I wrote – that I was ready for someone else to critique it...but I am not.
As I told my husband how I was feeling – he brought up the contestants on American Idol and how it must feel to have Simon critique them in front of millions of people…how any artist is always open to the harshest of words because everything they do is subjective.
He told me that he could never do that – and that he knows that I can. (that is why I love him).
But, can I… I feel so exposed, so vulnerable. And yet, if I don’t allow myself this moment – how can I ever believe in my book – how can I ever know that it is good enough for other people to buy?
It feels like jumping off a cliff and just hoping someone will catch you before you hit bottom. – Right now, I am just hoping that I bounce!
Retreat, my ass... seems more like some sort of boot camp to me… pure agony.
I gotta go – I think I am going to puke!
I signed up for a week long writing retreat at UW Madison in June. Thinking that it is was a “retreat” and an incredible opportunity to work on my book about my experience since rescuing Thorp at a puppy mill auction.
A retreat, right? Doesn’t a retreat sound tranquil, peaceful- a quiet refuge?
To my horrid surprise – there will be nothing tranquil about this… It is work. I received our first homework assignment last week and it was anything but easy. In fact, it was nauseating.
At first there was confusion, which made me panic. The original course I signed up for was filled –go figure – so based on recommendations, I chose a fiction course on finishing up your novel. Even though my book is non-fiction – it is considered creative non-fiction so the thought was that it would all work out fine.
Until, I made the mistake of sending in my plot summary and leaving out all of the creative parts – leaving the instructor pondering why I was in her class at all.
Perhaps, I have written too many newspaper articles where I had to tell a two page story in 2 columns…my plot summary left out all of my emotion and there wasn’t anything creative about it.
I was crushed…and panicked and unable to sleep.
I had been dreaming about this course – this retreat – and now, I was left wondering if I was unwanted…unworthy...
I tossed and turned and decided that I could use all the help I could get – that I just had to suck it up and re-write my plot summary. My book IS good - damn it and I had to believe in myself or I was never going to get it past the print button on my own computer.
I have spent the last 48 hours revising a 1 ½ page plot summary. 48 hours contemplating a comma, a word a paragraph and still, my stomach is knots.
Writing a book within your own 4 walls is safe – having a few friends critique it – is safe – printing it at a box store – is safe…BUT, sharing it with other novel writers…is NOT safe. Everything I love about my book – everything that makes it mine – is open…and because it is a true story – reflecting ME – I become open and no longer safe.
And, I am scared to death!
Hitting that send button meant that I was good with what I wrote – that I was ready for someone else to critique it...but I am not.
As I told my husband how I was feeling – he brought up the contestants on American Idol and how it must feel to have Simon critique them in front of millions of people…how any artist is always open to the harshest of words because everything they do is subjective.
He told me that he could never do that – and that he knows that I can. (that is why I love him).
But, can I… I feel so exposed, so vulnerable. And yet, if I don’t allow myself this moment – how can I ever believe in my book – how can I ever know that it is good enough for other people to buy?
It feels like jumping off a cliff and just hoping someone will catch you before you hit bottom. – Right now, I am just hoping that I bounce!
Retreat, my ass... seems more like some sort of boot camp to me… pure agony.
I gotta go – I think I am going to puke!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Truths: Soapbox on Corporate America
Okay, I feel because I have my own blog that once in awhile I reserve the right to get on a soapbox and preach my beliefs about the world. I am sure if you are a reader that is no surprise.
Today is that day. With the latest greed driven disaster: the BP oil spill... really, we should call it an oil GUSH... I am left to ponder the ways of the world and ultimately, scream, "greed drives atrocity."
No matter what BP says, or doesn't say, what really happened is that they got greedy and instead of taking the time and money to fix what they knew was broken they chose not to... Not fixing it meant more money in their pockets...at least they thought it did.
Now, instead, innocent people are dead and millions of things will be negatively affected by their costly mistake. Who truly knows the effects of this disaster: no one.
I cannot fathom the pain of the families who lost loved ones to this preventable tragedy and I shutter to think of all the wildlife and sealife who will be only helpless victims of corporate carelessness.
I won't even begin to say how this only proves drilling for oil off more of our own coasts is nothing but a bad idea.
But, more importantly this disaster allows me the opportunity to share what I have felt ever since attending my first dog auction... that if people were not driven by money, by greed - regulations would never have to be so stringent.
The reason that the Dept of Labor came to be was because of the slave labor companies chose to instill on children, impoverished families and helpless people. Grueling hours in poor conditions and minimal wages. Companies didn't care - so the government had to step in with rules and regulations to keep corporations from exploiting human beings.
Then came OSHA, the safety patrol, because companies chose to put employees in harms way by ignoring safety hazards and forcing people to work in unsafe conditions - some to the point of death. Fixing things and making them safe would be too costly they would say - so instead of using better judgement and protecting their own employees they opted to pocket the money and look the other way...until OSHA stepped in, and again, rules and regulations were implemented by the government.
Then came the EPA, the environmental patrol because companies didn't give a damn about what they were doing and causing our own Earth to deplete and deteriorate. It was too costly to remove oil or double barrel waste and prevent it from filtrating into the soil. It was too costly to prohibit unsafe emissions from pouring into our own air. Scrapping old batteries and dumping waste into our water supplies was second nature and a cheap way to get rid of what no company wanted. Until, the EPA stepped in an started fining corporate America for killing our environment one emission at a time, one nuclear waste at a time... the government had to step in...again.
There is also the Department of Ag..who was forced to step in and regulate our own food processing. Things we eat were left to the demise and cheap processes of companies. In the name of money, our own food was sacrificed leaving numerous people dead and to this day, many more sick.
Most recently, to protect animals, new laws, state by state have been passed to provide animals with basic necessities: room to turn around, food and water and adequate shelter - but only because people complained enough... and only because the people raising the animals had no regard for the animals well-being - only the money that was put in their pockets. Besides livestock, man's own best friend: dogs, were treated like commodities. What a horrible irony.
I am not for big government - I don't like being told what to do - I hated being made to wear a seatbelt! But, without regulations Corporate America has continually chosen money over ethics - greed over values... the only way to control it - to attempt to improve things is to regulate people - to fine companies and to make laws because companies only seem to care about profit even at the risk of losing it all...including human life
Shame on all of us for letting companies determine what is important in the world.
Today is that day. With the latest greed driven disaster: the BP oil spill... really, we should call it an oil GUSH... I am left to ponder the ways of the world and ultimately, scream, "greed drives atrocity."
No matter what BP says, or doesn't say, what really happened is that they got greedy and instead of taking the time and money to fix what they knew was broken they chose not to... Not fixing it meant more money in their pockets...at least they thought it did.
Now, instead, innocent people are dead and millions of things will be negatively affected by their costly mistake. Who truly knows the effects of this disaster: no one.
I cannot fathom the pain of the families who lost loved ones to this preventable tragedy and I shutter to think of all the wildlife and sealife who will be only helpless victims of corporate carelessness.
I won't even begin to say how this only proves drilling for oil off more of our own coasts is nothing but a bad idea.
But, more importantly this disaster allows me the opportunity to share what I have felt ever since attending my first dog auction... that if people were not driven by money, by greed - regulations would never have to be so stringent.
The reason that the Dept of Labor came to be was because of the slave labor companies chose to instill on children, impoverished families and helpless people. Grueling hours in poor conditions and minimal wages. Companies didn't care - so the government had to step in with rules and regulations to keep corporations from exploiting human beings.
Then came OSHA, the safety patrol, because companies chose to put employees in harms way by ignoring safety hazards and forcing people to work in unsafe conditions - some to the point of death. Fixing things and making them safe would be too costly they would say - so instead of using better judgement and protecting their own employees they opted to pocket the money and look the other way...until OSHA stepped in, and again, rules and regulations were implemented by the government.
Then came the EPA, the environmental patrol because companies didn't give a damn about what they were doing and causing our own Earth to deplete and deteriorate. It was too costly to remove oil or double barrel waste and prevent it from filtrating into the soil. It was too costly to prohibit unsafe emissions from pouring into our own air. Scrapping old batteries and dumping waste into our water supplies was second nature and a cheap way to get rid of what no company wanted. Until, the EPA stepped in an started fining corporate America for killing our environment one emission at a time, one nuclear waste at a time... the government had to step in...again.
There is also the Department of Ag..who was forced to step in and regulate our own food processing. Things we eat were left to the demise and cheap processes of companies. In the name of money, our own food was sacrificed leaving numerous people dead and to this day, many more sick.
Most recently, to protect animals, new laws, state by state have been passed to provide animals with basic necessities: room to turn around, food and water and adequate shelter - but only because people complained enough... and only because the people raising the animals had no regard for the animals well-being - only the money that was put in their pockets. Besides livestock, man's own best friend: dogs, were treated like commodities. What a horrible irony.
I am not for big government - I don't like being told what to do - I hated being made to wear a seatbelt! But, without regulations Corporate America has continually chosen money over ethics - greed over values... the only way to control it - to attempt to improve things is to regulate people - to fine companies and to make laws because companies only seem to care about profit even at the risk of losing it all...including human life
Shame on all of us for letting companies determine what is important in the world.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Tails: A Myriad of Thoughts
So, I am looking for a dog to adopt for a new friend. I love looking for dogs for people, I have even given thought to starting a little business doing this very thing.
Most of all, I love the idea of helping people to find their way to adoptable dogs instead of pet stores and backyard breeders. (I am all for good breeders, it just seems that they are few and far between these days).
Recently, on this new search – we decided that perhaps, a puppy was the way to go to. The breed that they were looking for is hard to find in a shelter and the rescue orgs for the breed are geographically challenging.
I was extremely skeptical of going towards a breeder. After all that I have witnessed in the puppy mill arena and all of the stories I have heard from colleagues – I doubt anyone who sells puppies for a living.
We thought we found a good breeder. She said all the right things when I asked her all of the hard questions. She sounded sincere and good hearted. So, with the feeling that we were on the right track, my friend went to go see the breeder – so excited and so sure that she even was prepared to put down a deposit.
Well, anything she had heard from me and others about what to look for – the filth and the mass amounts of dogs – all appeared in front of her. She said it was so horrible they walked right back out.
Now, on one hand – I guess it says something that the woman wasn’t even trying hard tp mask what was obviously a backyard breeding operation. And, I am grateful that she made it so visually noticeable. It was critical that my friend saw the breeder for what she was – not a good breeder.
It sounds like she might have all the right intentions but somewhere along the way lost sight of what she was doing and either got too involved in the money and/or became a hoarder.
Not only is my friend devastated, but I am left to mistrust all breeders again and left to forewarn everyone about who you come across on the internet. People sound good, puppies look adorable, but that does not come close to what might be going on behind the scenes of that professionally run website. The pictures are fake or completely a hoax and the dogs are literally living in squander.
I know for many it is hard to believe. I think it might have even been hard for my friend to believe - that people would really treat animals like that – but now she is left with an image she cannot get out of her mind.
It amazes me in some ways that people can do this – treat animals like they are nothing but dirt on the floor.
I know animals are a lot of work and now that I have added a frog to my ark – I feel like I am operating a zoo!
(By the way the frog made it through the weekend and I have fed him crickets twice! And meal worms. And even though it goes against my moral compass – I have to admit that watching him eat is pretty cool!)
But, last night I realized that I am practically a zoo keeper and that 8pm in our house is feeding time. The animals get crazy. The cats meowing up a storm, Penelope jumping up and down like a rabbit and the frog staring at me like he needs something.
I go downstairs and fill the cat bowls and dish out the wet cat food – the main treat of the day… the dogs knowing that this is their treat too because each of them will get a spoonful. Everyone following me around like I am the pied piper…
All I need is a sign that reads, “Feeing time: 8pm each night” and an audience to watch.
I finished the feedings and sprayed down the frog cage – turning off his daylight so he can pretend he lives in the tropical rain forest of Australia.
The house becomes silent and all of the animals are at rest for the evening.
It is what I do every night because my animals are my family. They count on me everyday to do these things for them because they cannot and when I took them in I agreed in some silent way that they would be taken care of. Their needs would be met and they would be loved.
When people, like this horrible breeder, fail to meet those needs, I have major issues. I am angry and irritated that they pawn themselves as caring breeders but do nothing that a good breeder would do and I am saddened that there aren’t enough laws prohibiting people from doing this.
See, my theory is this – if more people adopted animals these breeders would soon go out of business – their commodity, which is how they treat their animals, would no longer have the market and they would be forced out. We wouldn’t have to depend on legislators to do something about it.
And, along the way, millions of shelter animals would find homes. Sure, at some point the shelters would empty and we might need to breed dogs again – but I am happy just waiting for that day.
Most of all, I love the idea of helping people to find their way to adoptable dogs instead of pet stores and backyard breeders. (I am all for good breeders, it just seems that they are few and far between these days).
Recently, on this new search – we decided that perhaps, a puppy was the way to go to. The breed that they were looking for is hard to find in a shelter and the rescue orgs for the breed are geographically challenging.
I was extremely skeptical of going towards a breeder. After all that I have witnessed in the puppy mill arena and all of the stories I have heard from colleagues – I doubt anyone who sells puppies for a living.
We thought we found a good breeder. She said all the right things when I asked her all of the hard questions. She sounded sincere and good hearted. So, with the feeling that we were on the right track, my friend went to go see the breeder – so excited and so sure that she even was prepared to put down a deposit.
Well, anything she had heard from me and others about what to look for – the filth and the mass amounts of dogs – all appeared in front of her. She said it was so horrible they walked right back out.
Now, on one hand – I guess it says something that the woman wasn’t even trying hard tp mask what was obviously a backyard breeding operation. And, I am grateful that she made it so visually noticeable. It was critical that my friend saw the breeder for what she was – not a good breeder.
It sounds like she might have all the right intentions but somewhere along the way lost sight of what she was doing and either got too involved in the money and/or became a hoarder.
Not only is my friend devastated, but I am left to mistrust all breeders again and left to forewarn everyone about who you come across on the internet. People sound good, puppies look adorable, but that does not come close to what might be going on behind the scenes of that professionally run website. The pictures are fake or completely a hoax and the dogs are literally living in squander.
I know for many it is hard to believe. I think it might have even been hard for my friend to believe - that people would really treat animals like that – but now she is left with an image she cannot get out of her mind.
It amazes me in some ways that people can do this – treat animals like they are nothing but dirt on the floor.
I know animals are a lot of work and now that I have added a frog to my ark – I feel like I am operating a zoo!
(By the way the frog made it through the weekend and I have fed him crickets twice! And meal worms. And even though it goes against my moral compass – I have to admit that watching him eat is pretty cool!)
But, last night I realized that I am practically a zoo keeper and that 8pm in our house is feeding time. The animals get crazy. The cats meowing up a storm, Penelope jumping up and down like a rabbit and the frog staring at me like he needs something.
I go downstairs and fill the cat bowls and dish out the wet cat food – the main treat of the day… the dogs knowing that this is their treat too because each of them will get a spoonful. Everyone following me around like I am the pied piper…
All I need is a sign that reads, “Feeing time: 8pm each night” and an audience to watch.
I finished the feedings and sprayed down the frog cage – turning off his daylight so he can pretend he lives in the tropical rain forest of Australia.
The house becomes silent and all of the animals are at rest for the evening.
It is what I do every night because my animals are my family. They count on me everyday to do these things for them because they cannot and when I took them in I agreed in some silent way that they would be taken care of. Their needs would be met and they would be loved.
When people, like this horrible breeder, fail to meet those needs, I have major issues. I am angry and irritated that they pawn themselves as caring breeders but do nothing that a good breeder would do and I am saddened that there aren’t enough laws prohibiting people from doing this.
See, my theory is this – if more people adopted animals these breeders would soon go out of business – their commodity, which is how they treat their animals, would no longer have the market and they would be forced out. We wouldn’t have to depend on legislators to do something about it.
And, along the way, millions of shelter animals would find homes. Sure, at some point the shelters would empty and we might need to breed dogs again – but I am happy just waiting for that day.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Tails and Truths: You won’t believe…
So, my blog the other day set me off on a tangent even I am having a hard time believing.
I guess winning that frog basket got me to thinking – crazy thinking – with not a dose of reality!
I started to think that instead or in addition to the frogs I have been adding to my house and my garden, perhaps I should consider getting a real frog in memory of my brother.
I know – you are thinking I am nuts – and perhaps, I am… But, this thought sent me on a goose chase (or actually a frog chase) to the local pet places in the area. NO, not Petland, NEVER Petland – not anywhere that sells dogs, EVER!
I went to Petco. The first Petco only had some kind of Red Belly toads – didn’t do it for me. In fact, initially, all I was considering was one of those swimming frogs- African Pygmy frogs (something like that). I thought I could just have a little fish bowl and leave it at that.
But, when my search took me to the Algonquin Petco…that all changed because there they had Australian White Tree Frogs. Now, its likely you have never seen one of these little frogs but if you had – you would totally understand why even the least likely to ever get a frog would fall for one.
They are what cute cartoon characters are made of. Absolutely precious and they make you smile.
I found a guy in the store and asked a million questions. He was so nice and knew so much about the frogs. I must have sounded like a complete idiot. I finally felt compelled to tell him that I did own 4 dogs and 3 cats and that I wasn’t completely incompetent when it came to pet ownership!
Knowing that no good decision comes on a whim, I held back and decided I would think about it. This took everything I had.
I called Susan expecting her to tell me I was nuts, but instead; she thought it was a good idea. I told Bill what I was thinking and instead of saying it was crazy he said we should name the frog Jiminey Cricket.
To which I replied, “You mean Jiminey who eats crickets.”
That is the hardest part for me – the live feedings… Not only does it make me question my moral compass – crickets creep me out!
The next morning my friend Ellen called and said I was flipping nuts! Finally someone trying to knock some sense into me. However, my mind was already made up – I was getting the frog…and naming him, “Jiminey Who Eats Crickets.”
On the way to Petco I kept hoping for some sign that this really was the right thing to do…and that is when Ellen called. Thinking for sure she would tell me to turn around, I answered and her first words were, “Get the frog!”
She had decided that for Mother’s Day she would like a Beta fish… Her dog had passed away a few months ago and while she has cats – she is lonely and a fish seemed an easy way to fill the void. But, we know it won’t - just like we know that Jiminey isn’t going to fill the void of my brother.
But, we try, right? Because it feels like the right thing. Some small attempt to make something wrong feel better. Something to take the pain away and to give us something else to focus on.
I went into Petco and once again had a wonderful new guy who helped me to pick out my frog and got me a cart so we could start filling it with the numerous supplies I would need for Jiminey.
Let me tell you, getting a dog would be easier!
Speaking of dogs… getting a frog was quite a change for me. I had so many concerns that really don’t pertain to a tree frog. I was worried about socialization, if he would be lonely, how much I should play with him.
To which the numerous frog sites all laughed at me. Frogs are frogs they said… They don’t get lonely: they only get hungry and tired.
I am not saying that I agree with that but the truth is that frogs are not dogs. It doesn’t matter how many hours I am home a day. It doesn’t matter if I play with the frog (In fact, you aren’t supposed to handle them much because of our skin infecting them). It doesn’t matter if I have a fenced in yard.
As long as I bought all of this stuff and fed him these disgusting live creatures – he would be happy (or should I just say healthy?)
The guy who helped me was so patient – besides all of my questions – I wanted the tank to be aesthetically pleasing. You know like the one on the box of the aquarium I bought. Silly me – I thought it came with all the cool plants and backgrounds. It only came with 4 glass walls!
I picked out plants – one live since my intention is to create a completely live terrarium – I am in a garden club – I should at least be able to provide Jiminey something real and not plastic!
But, I started small with the plants. The important thing was Jiminey - not my would be garden of Eden.
Soon, after paying the bill for the frog that will fill the void, I was leaving Petco when the cashier, another nice and knowledgeable guy, inquired about my email address. I explained that I did puppy mill rescue… and then I remembered I was supposed to ask if the frog was captively bred and not stolen from Australian rain forests.
He said they were – that Petco only sells captive bred reptiles. To which my mind instantly pictured some froggy mill… all of these frogs kept in close quarters only breeding more frogs… How could I?
That and if not in a froggy mill – then stolen out of captivity and contributing to the decreased population of tree frogs in the world.
Gosh, I was a bad person – a hypocrite on some level. BUT I had done my due diligence – I had searched Petfinder for a tree frog to adopt and the closest one was in Canada. Even for me, that was a little ridiculous.
After diminishing my own ethics, Jiminey and I left the store on a mission to set-up the coolest tree frog habitat ever.
And, I think it is. The design would have Martha Stewart drooling and Jiminey seems to have settled in. Though, he hasn’t left one of the tree limbs since he hopped in.
The biggest thing about keeping a tree frog is maintaining a humid environment which means keeping it wet. And, later in the day that is when the true irony hit me.
See, when I was little and I would have to go wake my brother up – he would yell at me and demand that I go get him water – every morning for as long as I can remember. It was always about the water…
And now, this frog that I got in memory of my brother – it, too, needs water every morning!
Who would believe…
And, now above all else – not only do I think Jiminey will help to ease the void of losing my brother – I know my brother is smiling down at me and laughing his ass off.
Anything to make him happy!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Truths: Just When You Think…
The other night I attended a Garden Gala… I think I have mentioned that I am in a Garden Club. I know it might sound silly to some and I am, by nearly 10 years, the youngest member of the club…and yes, the meetings/luncheons are similar to hanging out with my mom and her friends – but they are my friends and they are quite delightful.
In just a over a year, I have met some wonderful ladies (a term I would only loosely for my closer friends!!).
I joined because I desperately needed a diversion from animal welfare – it had left me drained and in despair about the whole world. I love gardening so what a perfect way to learn more.
And, boy, do I need to learn more. I think I hold my own when it comes to making things grow. My house looks nice in the summer (okay, my cabin looks nice in the summer – the house…well, I try – but when you aren’t home that much – things do need water! This year, I am only planting drought tolerant annuals and am hanging silk flower baskets. Being in the garden club, I am embarrassed about the silk plants – but they will look better than dead plants…)
Anyway, some of the women of the group – are expert gardeners and I mean experts. They know every kind of flower there is – when to plant it – where to plant it… I know the flowers I like… and I am learning that you can’t just buy a plant because you like it. In gardening, love, alone, won’t make it grow!
ANYWAY, so I am in this garden club and another local garden club puts on this gala where you have a 1 in 10 chance of taking home a wonderful container full of perennials and annuals.
No, I don’t think all of my friends would want to go. In fact, I asked a bunch and they all failed to respond! But I dragged my dear friend, Susan, along anyway!
I think it is fun. You can win something to take home and along the way you get to learn about and see all of these different plants and what to do with them. (I think I mentioned I could use all the help I can get!)
So, besides the containers, they also have raffle baskets. You can buy tickets and place them in the bags of the baskets you would like to win. (don’t worry, there is a point to all of this)
During “half time” Susan and I went and placed our tickets in the baskets that we liked. There were lots of gardening ones (duh) that I liked and when I was down to my last ticket I noticed a party one that had a fun little frog in it. It reminded me of my brother, Jimmy, who passed away last summer in a drowning accident.
He loved frogs and had a huge collection of them. Since the accident, I have made frogs a part of my life as happy reminders of my crazy brother who drove me nuts most of the time.
Half time was over and the gala began again. I didn’t win any containers (I did last year) and it was time for the raffle.
Everything was handed out and then, my name was called. I won the basket with the frog!
There has been a lot to deal with since my brother passed away. With no will, no spouse, and only a minor daughter, you can imagine what has taken place. I have cursed him a lot in the last few months.
So, winning THAT basket meant more than anything else I could have won… I know some might not believe – but to me it meant that my brother was smiling down on me…probably laughing that all of this was my punishment for being a bratty little sister but it also meant, to me, that he thought I was doing a good job. It was as though he gave me the thumbs up.
I think when people close to you pass away – you begin to form this different relationship with them. When you are forced to deal with a lot of the crap they left behind – you talk to them and you even learn more about them.
I loved my brother – but with 9 years difference – we weren’t all that close. I, of course, regret that – but in some ways – I feel like I am the one left with all the loose strings because it is a way to know my brother better and to find closure and peace with our relationship.
It has been a struggle some of it.. most of it. The legal crap and trying to do what is best for my niece. I have felt overwhelmed at times – unsure of what I was doing.
Winning that basket was the encouragement I needed.
Just when you think the people you have lost aren’t around anymore – you receive a gift – a small token that assures you – you are not alone. That, they are watching over you and that has made all of the difference for me.
In just a over a year, I have met some wonderful ladies (a term I would only loosely for my closer friends!!).
I joined because I desperately needed a diversion from animal welfare – it had left me drained and in despair about the whole world. I love gardening so what a perfect way to learn more.
And, boy, do I need to learn more. I think I hold my own when it comes to making things grow. My house looks nice in the summer (okay, my cabin looks nice in the summer – the house…well, I try – but when you aren’t home that much – things do need water! This year, I am only planting drought tolerant annuals and am hanging silk flower baskets. Being in the garden club, I am embarrassed about the silk plants – but they will look better than dead plants…)
Anyway, some of the women of the group – are expert gardeners and I mean experts. They know every kind of flower there is – when to plant it – where to plant it… I know the flowers I like… and I am learning that you can’t just buy a plant because you like it. In gardening, love, alone, won’t make it grow!
ANYWAY, so I am in this garden club and another local garden club puts on this gala where you have a 1 in 10 chance of taking home a wonderful container full of perennials and annuals.
No, I don’t think all of my friends would want to go. In fact, I asked a bunch and they all failed to respond! But I dragged my dear friend, Susan, along anyway!
I think it is fun. You can win something to take home and along the way you get to learn about and see all of these different plants and what to do with them. (I think I mentioned I could use all the help I can get!)
So, besides the containers, they also have raffle baskets. You can buy tickets and place them in the bags of the baskets you would like to win. (don’t worry, there is a point to all of this)
During “half time” Susan and I went and placed our tickets in the baskets that we liked. There were lots of gardening ones (duh) that I liked and when I was down to my last ticket I noticed a party one that had a fun little frog in it. It reminded me of my brother, Jimmy, who passed away last summer in a drowning accident.
He loved frogs and had a huge collection of them. Since the accident, I have made frogs a part of my life as happy reminders of my crazy brother who drove me nuts most of the time.
Half time was over and the gala began again. I didn’t win any containers (I did last year) and it was time for the raffle.
Everything was handed out and then, my name was called. I won the basket with the frog!
There has been a lot to deal with since my brother passed away. With no will, no spouse, and only a minor daughter, you can imagine what has taken place. I have cursed him a lot in the last few months.
So, winning THAT basket meant more than anything else I could have won… I know some might not believe – but to me it meant that my brother was smiling down on me…probably laughing that all of this was my punishment for being a bratty little sister but it also meant, to me, that he thought I was doing a good job. It was as though he gave me the thumbs up.
I think when people close to you pass away – you begin to form this different relationship with them. When you are forced to deal with a lot of the crap they left behind – you talk to them and you even learn more about them.
I loved my brother – but with 9 years difference – we weren’t all that close. I, of course, regret that – but in some ways – I feel like I am the one left with all the loose strings because it is a way to know my brother better and to find closure and peace with our relationship.
It has been a struggle some of it.. most of it. The legal crap and trying to do what is best for my niece. I have felt overwhelmed at times – unsure of what I was doing.
Winning that basket was the encouragement I needed.
Just when you think the people you have lost aren’t around anymore – you receive a gift – a small token that assures you – you are not alone. That, they are watching over you and that has made all of the difference for me.
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