Tag: life

Invisible

   When you’re not extremely old and your voice sounds fairly normal,  being hearing impaired is an invisible handicap that can frustrate others as well as yourself.  I’m not using the word “deaf” because I do still hear some things….this hearing impairment of mine is such a strange thing.  According to the various hearing specialists I’ve seen,  I am deaf.  Language deaf in particular.  What -language deaf- means is I don’t hear all the parts of speech anymore, so when someone is talking to me it sounds as if they’ve got both hands over their mouth or like I’m hearing their voice through water.  I’ve lost all mid and high tones completely, so I hear only the base of things, music included.  To top off that annoyance, I have tinnitus…  bells and whistles, crickets, chirps and tweets go off all the time in my ears, 24-7.   That’s my brain’s way of  creating the sound it knows I should be receiving from my ears. Since no sound is coming from my ears, my brain MAKES the sound to compensate.  Crazy, right? 
     For me, the loss of music is the worst. I used to play instruments and absolutely loved music, so many forms of it, too.  Sometimes I can still tell you what song is playing in my vicinity just by the base it presents. The song itself I know only from memory. 
     So.. the invisible part.  When you have a handicap that’s invisible.. more often than not, you are on the receiving end of other people’s frustration with you, not their sympathy.  Now, I don’t want people’s sympathy – Lord knows there are worse things in life than being “deaf’.  I am so grateful for the life I have, in so many ways.  There’s no denying, though, that the frustration displayed by others on occasion gets old.   
   A few days ago I was at the grocery store and apparently the clerk asked me if I had any “gold coins”.  I didn’t hear her and kept looking down at my purse trying to find my scan card.  When I looked up she was staring at me with a pissed off look.   I recognized the look and said “I’m sorry, I’m hearing impaired. Did you say something?”… She then repeated the line, and because she wasn’t using her mouth much I couldn’t read her lips.   Not her fault, but I had to say it again… “still didn’t get what you’re saying, I apologize… can you try one more time? ”   and she said loudly and clearly.. “are you for real?” The person behind me  kindly touched my arm, looked me right in the eye and spoke clearly using her mouth expressively… and I got what she was saying.  One stupid line took three minutes and a snarky comment to get past.
  My part time job is as editor of a local publication.  Part of my job is having to interview people to highlight their business here in town.  I have a very understanding employer, and because of the hearing issue, I conduct interviews through e-mail and it’s worked out really well… most of the time.   I send a series of questions,  simple questions that are easy to answer, which are answered in return e-mail.. .. and I spin an article out of the info.  Sometimes… the message is lost on the person I’ve contacted for the interview.  
Recent conversation via e-mail:
 Good morning! Below you’ll find a few questions regarding the profile article that will appear in the ____.  Please answer at your convenience in return e-mail and I will put together an article and get it back to you for review. 
 *I prefer to interview in person – call me. 
 I understand, but as we discussed earlier, I am hearing impaired and prefer to gather information via e-mail so that I have all the details correct.  Should only take a few minutes of your time, you have a week to get it back to me. Thank you! 
  *Can’t you just call my secretary then?  I hate typing.
  I can’t call her but if you forward this e-mail to her or give me her e-mail, she can answer the questions too. Whatever works is fine with me. 
*  How about you just come in and we can talk in my office? 
I understand that might be easier for you, but I will still be attempting to read your lips and write on the paper at the same time, I fear I won’t get the information correct, really need the article to be accurate. 
* OH, I see.. just bring a tape recorder and you can write it down later! 
I won’t be able to hear the tape later.  Any chance you can just type the answers to the few questions in an e-mail?  I pulled the rest off your website. 
    Mind you… all this was e-mail back and forth. Already he had typed almost as much as if he had just answered the questions initially in e-mail.  I haven’t heard back yet… probably because he’s frustrated. 
  Last Saturday night I took one of our dogs to the emergency vet. The jury is still out on whether she’ll be OK, we go back to the vet today.   Anyway… the receptionist had multiple piercings on her lips, big hoops and little studs, my God that had to be uncomfortable.   As you can imagine, I’m staring at her lips to try to decipher what she’s saying. I do this with anyone I meet.  She doesn’t know this, of course, and by her demeanor it’s clear she thinks I’m staring at her piercings and has taken offense.  I realize what’s happening and say “I’m sorry – I am hearing impaired and need to read your lips to get through the conversation, that’s why I’m staring at your mouth, I  should have explained, I apologize”.     She then smiles and says.. .OOOH…. that’s ok then!  I thought you were being rude. 
  I was chaperoning at one of my son’s dances. A few other moms I had not met previously were there as well.  The next day I got an e-mail from a good friend –  “Hey,  I guess you were chaperoning with  (insertname) last night. She called me this morning and said – Wow,  M’s mom is a real bitch. Several times when I tried making small talk she just flat out ignored me!.   My friend has a great sense of humor, laughed and said –  She’s deaf!!…. and I had to laugh too. 
*sigh.  I hate rude people. I hate looking or behaving like a rude person, yet that’s the impression people get around me on occasion. Sometimes I think I should just wear a sign that says – I’m deaf.    Out of frustration I actually had a tee shirt made that says  Deaf on the front, and Still Deaf on the back.  Then I realized it sounds like I’m frustrated, so I never wore it. 
     For my family, it’s just as annoying for them as it is for me.  Can you imagine having to repeat yourself sometimes three and four times to get a simply line of communication across? Daily?  Or how about that closed caption scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen, always.   
    What I have to stop doing is the apologizing.  Bad habits are hard to break, though.  It’s not other people’s fault that they can’t see my handicap, but it’s not my fault that I’m deaf either.  I can’t change my hearing status, but I can certainly stop apologizing for it.    NOTE TO SELF. 


   
  
 
  
  

Cleaning House

      When I started this blog years ago I had many followers because we were doing a major reconstruction of this old house, and folks from all over enjoyed following the process from start to finish.  We even had a person of importance contact us to photograph the house, unfortunately it beared no fruit in the end.  Boy, when I look at that post now, the house was decorated so differently, I guess I like to change it around now and again.   Stella of course was a much smaller scale project.

     During that time, I contemplated adding in “ads”, with the thought that if I were going to spend time devoted to this blog, I might as well make a little money doing it.  But then when I saw the actual ads on my page, I hated the look, the distraction, the noise. The creative side of me was revolted, and so I stripped it all down to bare blog again. Ah, much better.  If you come here now and then, you’ll notice the look of my blog changes frequently.  My creative restlessness is obvious – and it was one of the main reasons I considered moving over to wordpress.  After doing some research, I’ve come to the conclusion  it would just be too big of a pain in the a** to change it over, and I like the idea of FREE with blogger. I just hope Google doesn’t decide to ditch it all some day, now that would suck. 

    
     What attracts you to any given blog?  For me, getting the sense that the author of the blog is real in their expression of their experiences and what they are sharing is key.  I love learning about regions other than the one I live in, the sharing of ideas, recipes, political exasperations (because lately that’s all there is), gardening and health advice, family values, issues, trials and triumphs.  I like the friendships that inevitably form if you stick around long enough, and it’s a stress reliever in some ways – a creative outlet, a place to share.  My blog face has changed once again, all the “clutter” is at the bottom – blog roll, labels, search box, etc.    When you visit, I don’t want you to be assaulted by a bunch of stuff all at once.  I hope I finally achieved a soothing pallet for your viewing pleasure – if not in my words, at the very least in the visual.

      Because I am procrastinating once again as I glance over my shoulder at the dog who needs walking (actually it’s ME who needs walking) and   I hear the whisper of the laundry pile sitting on top of my bed with a soggy little dog sitting on top of that…  (yep it WAS a clean pile) …. let me share just a few more things with you today.

 Great recipe below  I’m going to make and bring down to the cottage this weekend for the family – because can we all say a collective Hallelujah to the approaching sunny 80 degree temps?  We’re actually going to drag the kayaks down to the waters edge and maybe even get in them for the first time this season….

Skinny Zucchini Casserole

 That’s the healthy part of this  weekend’s meal plan… and this is the other part…

Trisha Yearwoods banana Pudding   because Dang…..

 Now, off to walk that dog…..  Till soon, friends…. thanks for stopping by.

Here and There

      Just so ya know – I typed a whole lot of hateful spew here and then deleted it all.  Who needs confirmation of his royal HighnASS’s offenses dujour?  It’s getting so I’m afraid to turn on the TV or click on the CNN icon or open my FB page or read my E-MAIL for crying out loud – every single morning I wake up and wonder – what will the offense be today?   I’m trying like hell to just ignore it, and yet that feels irresponsible too.  
      What do you do to divert your attention from things-that-are-driving-you-batshit? Me? I’m taking care of me just a little bit better than I did all winter. (10 extra pounds to prove it… which means I have that damned 20 to lose that I was trying to lose last year.  Yeah. That.)   Spring has arrived according to the calendar, and in the last few days the temps have begun to rise… as have the crocus!
 The dogs and I have been out walking the fields again… 
The skies have been so blue…. 
 The  horses aren’t quite used to the Spring schedule yet.. This is Max’s  – hey, aren’t you supposed to be giving us grain right about now? – look…   As the days grow longer, they stay out in pasture longer and aren’t given grain till bedtime, meaning when darkness falls and they’re closed in for the night. 
  This morning I took a load of bedding and curtains down to the cottage and oh, if I could send you  the joy of salty sea air as warm sunshine hits your face as I experienced it today.. I would, my friends, I would. 
 While soaking it all in, I spied with my little eye…. 
Can you see it?….. 
… a piece of cobalt blue sea glass – a rare treasure around theses parts.   Now, if it weren’t such a hard-to-find color, I’d toss it back into the sea for a little more seasoning – but it’s edges are soft and it does have enough scruff to make it a keeper because what are the odds I’d find it again?  
    When I saw that flicker of blue… that little glass treasure, I felt the Universe was sending me a message ….   And that reminded me of something else… 
    Why I let this get away from me still surprises me.  There was a moment  years ago now.. when I was sitting outside a hospital on a retaining wall, taking a break from my vigil at my daughters bedside.  I was looking up at a window on the 4th floor where all I could see were balloons…. the ones suspended above my daughters bed.  I was saying to myself….. How are we here, how did this happen.. look at all these people around me, just going about their day… buying food , God, I can’t even eat…. and they’re LAUGHING… laughing…. while my daughter lies up there with her life hanging in the balance.  How do I ever live my life…..    And just as important…. IF I ever do get to life my life again, and my daughter is a part of it… please don’t let me forget how precious life is, how grateful I need to be, each and every day, for even the little things. 
    A funny thing happened on our way to “recovery”.  My daughter, through her own trials, found comfort and wisdom in inspirational quotes.  Still does. ..and it’s these inspirational quotes that I turn to when I need a reminder.  I’ll share them here with you – 
     

  
 Till soon, friends – 


       

Leaning In

  T’is true, we’re in mud season and I’m doing a happy dance.  New England is known for it’s erratic weather behavior and I’ve lived here long enough to know Mother Nature may throw us a few more zingers before Spring arrives, but the past few days have been lovely and tomorrow even lovelier. The Snow has melted for the most part and farm chores are a heck of a lot easier, and certainly dirtier. 
 I’ve been doing some spring cleaning in this late winter reprieve – paddocks mucked, horses blankets aired out, coats brushed… 
..the coop has been raked out, fresh bedding replaces old, the girls wander around the yard while I work.  Occasionally a hen will walk right up to me and tell me what she thinks about all the ruckus around “campus”… or that she’s waiting for me to leave so she can lay an egg in peace. 

   There are days when I ask my self why I have decided to continue on with all the barn and coop work for all these years – mostly when the weather is awful and I’m out in it when I’d rather be in sitting by the fire, or when the arthritis flares.  But I keep coming back to the same answer – and it’s as simple as this – I love my animals.  I love being around them, caring for them, they bring me peace in an ever turbulent world.  They keep me grounded.   
     I wasn’t going there today but heck, here we are.  Let me share two experiences that I have had with my animals and I suppose I need to change the post title.  
     I will never forget several moments I had years ago during a horrible time in our lives.  My daughter had been in a car crash and had been in a coma for weeks. Her future was uncertain. The first time I came home from the hospital after the accident I laid on my bed and cried, didn’t know what else to do with myself.  My littlest dog, Rudy, now deceased, laid down next to my sobbing self and wailed like I’ve never heard a dog wail.  He knew I was in great pain and decided to join me in mourning. 
 A few weeks later, I came home from the hospital to change clothes, take a shower and go back to be with her.  While home, I walked out to the barn and stood with that horse you see above… and cried. And cried.. and sobbed till I couldn’t breath.  He stood in his stall with his head down, just letting me lean in.  At that same time a squall had blown in. Normally, my horse would be spooked by the sudden roil of thunder and flash of lightning. This time he stood stone still.  That particular storm was bizarre – very quick – torrential rain, wind, the works… five minutes start to finish. When it was over the sun shown so bright – I left Opie’s stall and walked back to the house feeling.. renewed?  Recharged.  The demeanor of my horse and the shock of that sudden violent storm and then the radiant sun breaking through the clouds was a message.  I’m not religious but I do believe that was a message.  I couldn’t know it at that moment, but the next day my daughter woke up.
 So why do I continue to toil over these critters who aren’t really working farm animals as much as they are pets?   It’s those  relationships we forge, the connections I won’t be without.  I actually feel sorry for folks who never come to know the love and companionship of an animal. 
This is Bailey telling me it really is past bedtime, Mom, can’t we please go to bed now?  
   
 Till soon, friends – 

The gift you can give yourself

  I don’t watch a lot of TV, but in the winter months when the light fades early and we’re inside more than outside, we like to unwind in front of the tube.  Two things amaze me (and piss me off)… Sometimes the commercial breaks are so long you forget what you were watching. Then there’s the fact that you pay for 600 channels and there are only about five stations that actually have quality viewing. The rest is just crap.  I love the history channel, Discovery Channel,  CNN before the Orange Scream came along, a few series have caught our attention over the years – The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Poldark to name a few….  and there’s the sports package for the Mr. 
  
     Anyway… Dr. Phil.  Occasionally I tune in, when his guests aren’t the Jerry Springer type.  I often wonder why they load so much makeup on that mans head,  he looks like he’s been dipped in the stuff. You’d think in this day and age they could figure out the stage makeup and make it look a little more natural.  His show is also obviously an infomercial for his and his wife Robin’s many products, but that’s to be expected.  Speaking of which, where did half of her go?…  She’s a good example of a beautiful woman who let weight loss goals take away some of her natural beauty. Angelina Jolie.. another case in point.  
  
    So Dr. Phil… recently there was a mother/daughter situation where the  young adult daughter wanted  help for  a better relationship with her mom. The mother was a real hardass, apparently had been abused as a child herself and abused her children physically in return as she raised them. She is an adult movie performer and is raising yet another child, whom she says she’s doing a much better job with now that she has “grown up”.  The daughter is angry for all she’s been put through, and wants her mom to apologize and to be a more supportive -mom-.  While the mom comes off as a cocky b*tch during the entire interview, she also apologizes repeatedly and doesn’t deny the abuse. Because of her  tough attitude, though,  the apologizing doesn’t seem sincere. The daughter is clearly struggling and after an exhausting back and forth and many interjections by Dr. Phil,  he shuts the whole thing down and says  (this is not word for word, it’s the jist) 
     Look, it comes down to this.  What is it that you want from your mother so that you can move on.    She had no answer for him.  He asked the question repeatedly but neither the mother or the daughter had any answers to the question. It was pretty clear the relationship wasn’t going to change.  
     He then said to the daughter…. This is what I want for you.  I want you to build relationships with quality people who want to be in your life, who are worthy of your trust, who will support your positive goals in life. You’re looking for something from your mother that she doesn’t have to give.  If you came into my office and asked me if you can please have a zebra, I don’t have one to give you, it’s that simple. You are looking for something to come from your mother that she does not have to give.  You will always, always and forever struggle with this relationship if you keep looking for something that isn’t there.  You need to accept it for what it is and move on.  

     How many people can relate to that simple truth?  Boy, did it strike a chord with me.  I’ve talked a little about my relationship with my father in this space before, and to be clear,  I did not suffer the kind of abuse the woman in this story had.   Ours has been an emotional struggle… but the bottom line in his advice is so spot on.  Part of my anger toward my father has been that he was not what I wanted him to be as a Dad.  That’s not necessarily a fair request, because he can only be what he is. At times he did try in the ways he knew how, it’s that simple.  What I’ve been looking for is not coming, I’m angry at him for something he’s not even aware of.  In order to find peace of mind, I have to grant it to myself.  Accepting that simple piece of advice above is the most important part of the equation. 
   I’m not gonna lie, it’s still hard for me to visit the nursing home and do the grocery shopping and get him the things he needs because that little disappointed and resentful part of me still tugs at the edges.  As I grow older and he just grows old I’m slowly figuring out how to release the expectations of that little girl, the teenager, the young woman who wanted the Hero figure.  He did what he could with what he had, and that’s the truth. 
   He had his 80th birthday a few weeks ago. I decided a  party was in order, something I have never done for him before. I know that sounds harsh, but it was a result of the nature of our non-relationship, those resentments.  I got in touch with some of his old boating friends and some folks he worked with before retiring. They were happy to meet us at his old haunt, a local eatery and pub nearby. He didn’t know they would all be there. I picked him up at the home and we drove down the Boston Post Road instead of taking the highway  so he could view all the Christmas lights.  He was like a little kid, admiring some of the big lighted trees in the town greens we passed.  I was amazed that he noticed them at all.  Then I remembered some of the decorating he did when I was a young girl and he still lived -home-.  I also remembered the drives he took us on in our neighborhood to see the lights of Christmas.  He wasn’t always gone. He did what he could in the ways he was capable.  
  So we walked into the dining area where a large table had been set up for our party, and the look of surprise and delight on his face when he saw those old friends and some family  brought tears to MY eyes.  Tears of happiness… for him.   It was also obvious these people cared about him. He had forged some meaningful relationships, whatever they may have been. 

   On that night…some of the baggage I have been carrying around for all these years was left on that restaurant floor.  I’m not going back for it either.  
   

Warmth

 We discovered Stella’s gas stove works just fine, and just in time for the menfolk to begin interior work. 
Trim work around the windows …. 
 Gate so little dogs and eventual toddlers don’t go wandering… 
Outdoor shower 
 We’ve got some snow on the ground this morning, but it’s soon to turn to rain –  The deep freeze lasted about 24 hours, warmer temps on the horizon.  Around these parts Christmas isn’t quite Christmas until the snow falls.  I don’t know how you Floridians and other warm climate area peeps find the spirit without the snow, but I know you have your ways just as we northerners have ours.  If you’ve got a  Christmas decorations pic you’d like to share, please leave your blog post link in the comments section.  I love to see the different forms of “Christmas” in regions not my own, north, south, east or west. 
These were taken at 6 AM this morning… notice the lights in the front left corner of the house are out.. that’s where Bens bed is, a dog must have darkness to get a good sleep, don’t ya know. 
I’m writing lists for our Holiday family dinner here at the farm – buffet style.  This app looks delish and easy to make, going to try it.  Ask me how much I love artichoke spinach dip. 

 


Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Grease a mini muffin tin with cooking spray.Easy Spinach Artichoke Cups

INGREDIENTS

  • 4 oz. cream cheese, softened
  • 1/4 c. sour cream
  • 1 1/2 c. shredded mozzarella
  • 1/4 c. Parmesan cheese
  • 1 c. canned artichoke hearts, drained and chopped
  • 1 (10) oz. package frozen spinach, drained and chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • kosher salt
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 tube crescent dough
  1. In a large bowl, combine cream cheese, 1 cup mozzarella, Parmesan, artichokes, spinach, and garlic. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.
  2. Flour your work surface, roll out crescent dough, and pinch seams together. Cut into 24 squares. Place squares into muffin tin slots and spoon 1 tablespoon of dip into the dough.Top with remaining mozzarella.
  3. Bake until pastry is golden and cheese is melted, about 15 minutes.

Blanket Season

       Indeed, we were spoiled with a most beautiful Autumn.  Yesterday, Winter let us know she is not far behind and I blanketed the horses to fend off the chill.  She’s sprinkling flurries and whipping winds up on the hill as I type this.   
 The girls have a heat lamp in the coop, because I can’t stand the thought of their little combs and wattles frostbitten when the temps really dip.  Not all chicken tenders (no pun intended!) believe this is necessary, but it makes me feel better.. so.   Henrietta is very appreciative. 
     I’m supposed to be out shoveling sh*t right now, but I’m feeling under the weather today – a combination of stress over the election and it’s fallout, a cold – the first I’ve had in about 15 years,  and perhaps a stomach bug last night just to kick it up a notch.   Of course, fibromyalgia, not wanting to be left out, kicks it up another notch for good measure.
    I keep trying to -reset-  —  Put  the election results behind me and move on. My friends are still ranting and arguing on Facebook, even the “winners”, although we all lost in my opinion.  I’m trying not to get into the fray, but it’s so damn hard when you feel so damn concerned about what all this means.  I was hoping for some Presidential Behavior to arrive with the incoming President Elect, but no.. the 3 a.m. tweets continue.  Doesn’t he have more important things to worry about now??   The whining continues ( Please Donald.. you reap what you sow, simple concept, google it)  He’s taking liberties already with his children, with his business interests,  The Draining of the Swamp didn’t happen, he’s picking from it.   And I called this one months ago…. The First Lady isn’t moving into the White House…. for now.  Yes I know she found a believable excuse but I don’t think for one minute she wants to live in the Big House.    So another special exception will be made for  his wife and one of his children.  What that means for the Secret Service detail and other occupants of the Ivory Tower remains to be seen, but for sure, it’s “un-presidented”.   
   What’s a girl have to do to get out of her own way?  Create.  I’m starting a new painting, an oil of my horse underneath that glorious old pear tree (the giving tree) that still gives about 1,000 pears per season regardless of it’s almost completely hollowed out core.  This is going to be tricky and will take a while, but I’m hoping it will soothe my soul.  My “studio” is now my son’s bedroom – the one he vacated this past year to live with his GF.   They’re doing remarkably well, by the way.. so proud of their accomplishments as they build on their education and career, and learn what living together responsibly and selflessly means.  It’s a beautiful thing. 
  
  Are you getting ready for the big Thanksgiving Feast?  Most years I have cooked the meal here and various family have been invited. This year my SIL is hosting and I will be bringing a few desserts.. I plan to make an apple pie and a maple cheesecake, which is new in my repertoire… because SOMEONE ELSE IS BRINGING A STORE BOUGHT PUMPKIN!! – WHAT?? GAH!!…  The recipe can be found here if you’re interested.  For the cheesecake, not the store bought. 
    An update on my father and his  life at Apple Rehab- while there are things about him I will never understand or condone, I have to give him credit.  He has adjusted well to nursing home living, something I didn’t think would happen.  He’s made friends.  He has a “coffee clutch” – I call them the rat pack, who hang out in the front hall and watch people come and go.  They play cards, they order take out and have pizza delivered, they flirt with the nurses, they watch football and complain about the candidates.  My dad is one of the “winners”… we don’t go there because in his previous life he was a racist and a womanizer. I can’t tolerate his fist pumping over this one and so he has learned if he doesn’t shut up I’ll walk out.  Sounds harsh, right?  But it is the reality. 
      The one area that is still a struggle is  this –    He is supposed to share his room with another.  So far, he’s been through three room mates – He’s not very considerate, leaving the heat at greenhouse temps (uncomfortable for anyone but him) and never shutting off his TV, not even when he leaves the room for a while. His reason is he doesn’t like the inconvenience of having to turn it back on.   They’ve tried talking to him about being considerate of his roommates, but ultimately they’ve had to separate them.  The home has been very considerate up to this point, but there’s just so much shuffling they’re going to be willing to do.   He lies to me about the reasons for the squabbles so I no longer ask.  They gave me permission to -stay out of it- so that our visits can remain cordial.  for this holiday  I will pick him up and bring him to my SIL’s house, and bring him back home when he peters out.  It’s not the ideal, but it’s what we’ve got. 
  Not the ideal, but it’s what we’ve got.  Wash, Rinse, Repeat…
    There is much to be Thankful for, tis true.   I’ll be back with updates on Stella over at Once Upon a Tide soon enough..  Happy Thanksgiving! and  Peace be with us all. 

Chicks.. on several levels.

   Some girls grab a book and head to the beach to relax.  Me?  You can find me at the coop with another kind of Chicks and Buns….  This life I live ain’t always easy – it looks beautiful, but it’s also hard work and my aching neck tells that story well.  There are some real perks, though.  This is one of them.

 My mom is a breast cancer survivor, as are several of my friends, Pam Fox is one of them.  Pam is an amazing person – a true champion for the Underdog – canines and humans alike.

   She’s walking the Avon walk in NYC to help raise funds – Won’t you please consider a donation in any amount, even $5. gets them that much closer to a cure.  Link for donation below..

http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk/NewYork?px=8114340&pg=personal&fr_id=2486

Banned

 So the Mr. and I decided to take an evening ride down the shoreline on Saturday night, because it was such a glorious (summer!) evening.  We went semi topless, as that’s a heck of a lot easier than taking the entire top off the Jeep.   The evening was enjoyable, relaxing, a welcome reprieve… until…

Here’s where it got ugly.

  I take pride in being one of those Jeep Wrangler owners who participate in the long standing tradition of the Jeep Wave.  If you’re interested, here’s some insight from a serviceman on it’s origin…  If not.. scroll down to the post, continued…

New Jeep owners soon discover a tradition that has been around perhaps as long as Jeeps, the Jeep wave. Some may think its strange or even silly, but before you judge perhaps take a moment and consider this.

During WWII the Jeep was always on the move, often running back and forth from the front lines delivering vital supplies or urgent messages, or carry wounded soldiers, attempt rescues or bring reinforcements. Some say this is where the Jeep wave began as a way to know friend from foe or acknowledge an officer without a salute that might alert enemies of a high ranking official. Or perhaps it was just a simple gesture from soldier in one Jeep to another Jeep as they passed. A sign of camaraderie and respect between courageous souls in dark and dangerous times.

Others say the Jeep wave began after the war when the soldiers returned home. During the war the Jeep had earned a place in the hearts of many soldiers and as a result, many of those who made it home, wanted to own their own Jeep. Often the drivers of Jeeps passing on roadways would wave at each other, as they knew most likely each other had served. 

Finally some claim the wave began only when civilians started buying Jeeps and taking them off road. They shared fun and excitement of tackling seemingly impossible trails and obstacles in the nimble Jeep, naturally builds a kinship with other Jeepers. The wave acknowledges that shared understanding and appreciation of the Jeeps amazing capabilities and the enjoyment ownership can bring. So next time you see a Jeep, give a wave and if you don’t get one in return, don’t be offended. Just consider it a wave for the ‘One and Only Jeep’ and what it represents, our freedom and he brave souls who fought for it!

Being a Military Service Member myself, I think the wave started in WWII where many brave souls gave us our freedom we cherish to this day. For without what so many did for this country, we as fellow Jeepers would not be able to enjoy the freedoms of off road parks, trails, and just the simple freedom of driving down the road in the summer, top down and cruising. 




   So, particularly on Memorial Day Weekend, you see why the wave is increasingly important to uphold, right?   Apparently.. the Mr… doesn’t wave.  He’s one of those who thinks it’s silly, and if YOU are one of those, just hush.

   My mistake was  I let him drive.  Every Wrangler we passed – and admittedly there are many –  I could tell those who were going to wave as they approached. I can spot the snobs a mile away now, no kidding.  I said, please wave.. don’t be a snob.  He.. Did.. Not.    I began waving FOR him as we rode down the waterline,  the shoreline neighborhoods, The Boston Post Road.  There are several waves, to be clear. Some hold up their hand, some stick them out the side window, a side wave. Some give the peace sign (me) and some lift there hand and wave the full out wave, side to side.   He started holding my hands down, giggling!!…  The nerve.


SO…  He is no longer allowed to drive my Jeep, which while in my possession will represent the upholding of the time-honored tradition of the Jeep wave.


    To all the service men, women and service animals who have given of themselves over the many years of our country’s history, Thank you for your bravery and courage.  Thank you for the freedoms we have, Thank you for your service.  










  

Reaching out, taking in…

    So.. last weekend we had another adoption event –  64 dogs out of 69 found homes.  That’s no easy feat, considering each adopter is screened thoroughly before they can take their dog home – by their vet references, and personal references, and approval from Landlord if there is one.  Connecticut has some very generous folks, I’m proud to say. You know the reputation New Englanders have –  cold, snobby, aloof?  I don’t see it, I see generous people.  


   My favorite dog at last weekends adoption event was Ollie, an American bull dog mix. He would have come home with me if not for my 180 lb. horse, Ben. He has hit the jackpot with a wonderful home and sibling. It’s a beautiful thing. One of my favorite fb sightings are the after pics of shelter dogs in their new homes, finally the life they deserve. I’m so grateful to know the people who are cogs in the wheel that together make these things happen . Life lessons- think beyond just your own needs- Surround yourself with positive people, reach out to help whatever cause that holds meaning for you, it doesn’t have to be monetary, it can be actions, deeds- and your life becomes that much more rewarding.




      This morning was another stunner… the mist coming in off Long Island Sound traveled a few miles upland and landed in our fields… the scent of sea air was intoxicating…  another life lesson – (can you stand me this morning?..lol… )

    Enjoy the little things.. notice them, take them in, don’t let them pass by you unappreciated.   I had a conversation recently with a photographer friend. We were talking about picture quality and how so many people don’t really see the beauty that is all around them, and you can tell by the way they take a picture.  It’s not even about the subject.. because there can be beauty in a simple, simple shot.. like this one below.. it’s just a hay field and misty blue sky, nothing dramatic, no clear subject.  Look closely at all the nuances, there are many layers if you truly –see-.

  Have a good day, All –  and as always, thanks for stopping by.