Year 29

I recently celebrated my 29th birthday. This year also happened to be my golden birthday. Turned 29 on March 29th. To mark the occasion my family went out to eat for dinner. There ended up being 18 of us around the table. I felt incredibly loved and special to have so many people who traveled to celebrate with me.

Now, I recently was reminded that when we celebrate a birthday, the age we are turning actually marks the completion of that many years. So having said that, I have been thinking on what I have come to learn in those 29 years.

I know that it doesn’t take much effort to be kind. People go out of their way to be mean and rude to each other these days and it boggles my mind, and hurts my soul. If you just take a breath, and think a moment, being kind to your fellow person makes the whole day much brighter. Spreading just a little positivity can lift spirits and it might come back around to you in ways you never expected.

Laughter has become some of my favorite sounds. I treasure the memories of chatting with my siblings or my friends and everything we said would just make us laugh even more. My parents were never afraid to laugh and have fun with us while growing up. They would sing along with us in the car, be incredibly silly with us, and show us that it doesn’t take much to have a wonderful time. Those moments will forever be something I will hold close to my heart.

Finding small moments of joy or positivity can lift your spirit. When I have those days where it felt like everything was working against me, making a small list, just three things long, of the little happy moments, would change my perspective and show me that it wasn’t as dark or bleak as I had thought. Once in a while I reach for one of my notebooks and find that looking back at the happy moments from previous days helped me see that times where I feel like I can’t get any headway, are really not as horrible as I have been thinking.

I have been learning and growing for 29 years, and I will continue to grow and change as I age. So I am grateful for moments like birthdays that remind us to pause and reflect on how far we truly have come.

Thank you to everyone for all the birthday wishes and the love sent my way. Here is to year 30 and all the incredible moments that are to become wonderful memories.

A Super Duper Kanine

Cooper was a year and a half years old when we adopted him from the local humane society. He is a blue tick coon hound mix. That means he is black and white. The coon hound part of him becomes very apparent whenever he decides to use his voice. Baying instead of the normal barking that I have grown used to having grown up with plenty of dogs around.

Coop had a bit of a rough start to life. When we rescued him, you could see all his bones. The humane society had put twenty pounds on him already and he was still so thin. We got right to work making sure he knew he never had to fight for his next meal or worry about when he would be fed again. His story from before coming home is a bit of an unknown thing. We know he came from Texas, and was so skinny, but other than that, there is just a big question mark. So I can’t say that anyone ever meant him harm, and I would like to think that he had a loving home that just couldn’t care for him and his brother. His brother was adopted out to a wonderful family around two weeks before Cooper joined our family.

River has become like a brother to him. That relationship was pretty quickly formed. I am guessing because Cooper was used to that dynamic. River is pretty much the same size as Cooper and they love to run around the backyard at top speed. There are patches of dirt that will never grow grass again due to the boys using those sections as racetrack. Cooper looks so graceful when he is running across the yard. He stretches out and can gain momentum with ease. It is a stark contrast to the goofy run he does when one of us humans call his name and he is happy to see us. If you remember the sort of run that Jack Sparrow did in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, then you have a pretty good idea.

It took about three days before he felt confident enough to use his voice. I was actually kind of startled when he first barked at River during a play session. Little steps along the way have shown his comfort level and confidence rising. His silly run, being so proud of himself when he knows what to do for a command, and giving lots of kisses, have been some of my favorite milestones that have come with nurturing Cooper. He really has come out of his shell, and shown us just how goofy and loving he really is.

These days, I am lucky enough to be one of his favorite people. Whenever I am playing games in the living room, he will hop up on my lap and demand hugs. This has lovingly become referred to as a Cooper Break. I must pause my game and snuggle with the boy for a bit. He will eventually get down from my lap and I may resume my game. Being reminded to take time to pause and enjoy the little things like hugs from a giant baby like Cooper, is one of the reasons that I am forever grateful to have him.

I saw on Facebook once, a picture of a dog looking out the window while laying on the window’s bench seat. They were mostly in shadow, because the sun was setting outside. The words on the picture read, “Sometimes I like to look over at my dog, and watch them enjoy the life I have given them.” I couldn’t help but think of Cooper and how much his life has changed since coming home. He is probably chewing on a toy while laying in the giant bean bag chair in our living room right now. He will never have any more worries in life. Just love.

Back To School Memories

The lead up to back to school was always one of those times of year when Mom broke out the important To Do list. Things like clothes shopping, new shoes, and yearly appointments like the eye doctor and getting our vaccines were always included. Supply shopping had its own list that needed to be checked off. There were also those odds and ends that needed to be picked up that weren’t included on the general list for each student. I always had to get a new water bottle because I would find a way to break mine between school years. (One memorial school year required several water bottles because I couldn’t seem to control my klutzy tendencies whenever my water bottle was around.)

When my siblings and I joined sports the list got even longer. We had to add in sports physicals with the doctor. Then equipment for the sport was added to the supplies list. I enjoyed basketball in elementary school, up until I didn’t hit a growth spurt and was the second shortest kid in my grade. Middle school was filled with volleyball practice and games. Sadly it also consisted of many doctor appointments for sore knees. When high school came around, I did a year of color guard. During the last week of the season is when my left knee subluxed and effectively stopped my foray into athletics.

I joined choir, which meant that some fees would pop up during the year, but at least I didn’t have to rent an instrument. (Tried to play the trumpet for a year, that didn’t work out.) My sister was in orchestra, as a violin player. There were supplies she would need for upkeep.

All of those things sound a bit tedious writing them out like this. But I have very fond memories of the moments leading up to the start of each year. I love new stationary and I was very happy to have an excuse to indulge my obsession. New pens and notebooks were treasured items for me. As I got older, I would figure out what to look for as features in the items that I chose for my supplies. Back packs had to have a certain amount of pockets, and the side ones needed to be able to fit my water bottle, and in my high school years, my morning bottle of pepsi.

This year I found myself missing the steps that would lead up to the start of a new grade. Thankfully as a writer I have reasons to still buy some of my favorite school supplies. Maybe one day I will have kids and they might end up changing my mind on how I fondly look back on the days just before the first day of school, but for now, I will hold on to those moments.

Writer’s Block: Shake It Out

Being a writer is never a straight forward process. It requires creativity and inspiration. When I write, I have music playing, but it can’t have lyrics because then my mind will attach to those words and not the words on my page. It also can’t be too loud, or I get a bit overwhelmed by the noise.

Music is one thing that helps when I have writer’s block. I will be listening to music in the car while I drive, and scenes that I want to put in my book will pop up in my mind. Usually they are related to the song that I have playing but I try and use those ideas when they actually fit the flow of the story. Can’t just throw something in because I thought of it, it has to mesh with the rest of the plot line.

I also will put on music when I am really blocked. Stepping away from my keyboard, I will dance for a little bit. Nothing too crazy, but enough to shake up my body and the moment. Focusing on dancing and the music helps me feel a bit more energized. It might even spark emotions that I want to convey through my characters. The feeling of the music becomes a sound track that helps me get the creativity flowing again.

Another tactic is a change of scenery. For a while I was writing with a tower computer. I would sit at my desk and work on my book. Often this led to me having a hard time sitting still. I would swish back and forth in my chair, tap my finger on the desk, and stare off into space trying to think of something that was good enough to capture my attention again, to write about, to continue the story. Now that I have a laptop again, I can be found in multiple spaces around the house, working in a setting that just feels right for the day. I will be in my room, with the door closed, when I feel the need for space, or I will set up camp in one of the living room chairs when I want to feel like I am still part of the tempo of the house.

My pets are also a wonderful distraction. They have no preconceived right or wrong ideas of how to act, so having them around, and playing with them, will help me find a new angle to see things from. They make me laugh and pull me close when they want a hug. Sometimes all I need is to curl up with one of them for a moment and take a deep breath. I am forever grateful for them.

Writing a book takes patience, something I am still working on improving. Funny thing is, I tend to have more of that virtue when the creativity is flowing.

Summer Heat 2024

When I was a kid, Summer was spent doing our best to find fun ways to stay cool. Dips in the kiddie pool, popsicles, and running through the sprinkler were the popular solutions to the heavy humidity that weighed us down. Living near a lake for part of my childhood also helped. My family is big into water activities, including going to the local beach, and boating when we get the chance.

Now that I am older, I don’t run through sprinklers anymore. (Bad knees) I mostly only dip my feet in the kiddie pool to cool down. Popsicles will never go out of style, but I much prefer ice cream. Trips to the local beach have become fewer and far between, but they certainly hit the spot when I do get to go.

I recently went to the beach to celebrate W.’s 5th birthday, one of my best friends children. He had a blast getting to swim in the lake with his friends, and play in the sand. I was one of the few adults with a full swim suit on, because when you go to the beach, you wear a suit in my family, so I was out in the water with the kids to make sure they stayed safe as they went deeper. The water certainly helped me not feel the sun’s heat as much. (I will be forever grateful to my parents for the swimming lessons growing up. They really help in moments like that.)

What I didn’t notice while at the party was how red my skin was getting. I did apply sunscreen part way through the event, but I was too late. When I got home, I was already feeling the tender spots on my shoulders and back. My face was pretty red as well. Thankfully I normally recover fairly quickly from sunburn. I am already back to normal, and it has only been a week, only a little bit of pealing.

Taking care of my sunburn is what reminded me of those long summer days when we would spend so much time in the sunshine, but it felt like those nasty UV rays couldn’t touch us. Maybe my parents were more liberal with the sunscreen than I remember.

Today is going to be another warm day, so make sure you stay hydrated and protect your skin from those UV rays.

Halloween Memories

Yesterday was Halloween. I absolutely adore Halloween, but have noticed a change as I have gotten older. Traditions and routines have changed with the passing years and I can’t decide how I feel about it.

Some of the favorite memories were the family time. Trick or treating involved all the grand kids getting ready in their costumes, then posing for a picture out on the front step with the pumpkins we had carved for the year. We would set off into the neighborhood and knock on door after door. Somehow the miles we ended up walking didn’t even phase our young bodies, we just kept moving if it meant more candy to add to our bags.

Obviously pumpkin carving is a Halloween staple. One that my family honored every year, including this one. Yesterday I spent two hours elbow deep in pumpkin guts trying to clean out the large cavern inside to allow me to be able to cut a super cute face on one side. I went for a traditional Jacko lantern face this year, with the one tooth on each side of the mouth. In the past I have attempted many of the fancy designs, and several even turned out great. There is something about the traditional face that keeps brining me back to it though.

I no longer get super dressed up, or go out to a party like I did as a kid. But I refuse to let go of a few traditions. I will try my best each year to carve a pumpkin, and get at least a few sweet treats to eat. And who knows, maybe if I have kids, they will get to enjoy all the traditions that I loved as a kid. A full circle moment would really make my heart happy.

Back to School and the Basics

As we start to send the youngest amongst us back to the classrooms, I have been thinking about my time in the k-12 grades. I grew up during a very interesting time to be in school. Tech was taking off, computers becoming something we could fit in our pockets and use every day.

Going to the computer lab was something that everyone looked forward to when I was in elementary school. We would play games to learn basic skills like typing and math. My favorite though had to be the Oregon Trail games. Not sure if I ever got my little group of people to the end of the trail though. If I remember correctly, I managed to kill off my entire group one way or another every time.

Then there were the days were a teacher would wheel in that giant tv on a cart. We all would get so excited because that meant that we would be watching something, more than likely instead of an actual lesson. The lights would be turned off and the teacher would have us move our chairs to make sure we could all see the screen. Due to the size, we would sometimes have to move the desks out of the way to get closer to the screen. Even if we were given a worksheet to fill out while watching, it was the preferred method of learning compared to the books.

By the time I made it to middle school, most classrooms had projectors that attached to the teacher’s computers. They could play videos or show power points much easier. Books were still relied on though. It was still the easiest way to get the required information into our hands and allowed us to have something to work from at home. Computers at home were still the family computer. I would ask my parents for permission to use their computers to do homework or play games on.

Things like the overhead projector, where the teacher would use these transparent plastic sheets to show on a larger scale what they were talking about, were starting to be phased out. It was easier and more cost effective, to just use the classroom computer to provide visuals. Some teachers would even print out their power point slides to make notes easier for students. All we had to do was annotate the provided information.

High school was a fast paced change. Computer classes, on the basics of their functions and their programs like the Microsoft office set, were required to graduate. They were starting to push for us to be ready to work in the 21st century. I even got to use tech for my art classes. Between reference images, printing my written story drafts for a collage, and a beginner graphic design class, I was exploring how to apply computers to every facet of my learning.

My senior year is when they did the trial of giving laptops/Chromebooks to the freshman class. The following year they expected to provide them to all students in the high school. Since I was a senior, that wasn’t going to happen for me. I still had plenty of access to computers at home, plus my own smart phone, so I certainly wasn’t disconnected from the world and unable to complete my assignments. By that point, I was even starting to turn in some work just online to certain teachers. Most still preferred a paper copy though.

College was a major step forward. It is pretty much a requirement to have a personal laptop/computer these days even outside the classroom. Inside the classroom though, it is very needed. All teachers have online connections to their students. Email has become both helpful and a bother. Students can ask questions outside of office hours, but some might even think that teachers are required to answer them in the space of a few minutes even in the dead of night. (The student is up at three am working on homework for your class. Why aren’t you awake to answer any questions they might have about it right then?)

I carried my own laptop with me too and from classes. When I had the time, I would find a table or comfy chair, possibly just a spot on the floor out of the way, and take out my laptop to work on homework or surf the internet. As a writer, I would even take spare time and work on whatever story had been bouncing around in my head that day. Pretty much wherever you looked on campus, several students would have their laptop out and headphones on. On campus computer labs still saw plenty of use as well because they would have programs that our personal devices didn’t. That way we wouldn’t have to purchase them on our own.

Laptops became one of the go to ways to take notes in classes as well. Many students could type much faster than they could write by hand so they chose to keep word documents that served as their notes from each class. Maybe it says something about me that I preferred to use my notebook and colorful pens, other than loving the fact that I had an excuse to buy the large set of colored pens that held so many colors, but I only ended up using my laptop to really take notes in one class. I chose and Anthropology class as one of my gen eds and made several friends in that class. Together we created a word document on Google Docs, and took notes as a group. That way each of us could ask questions and make sure everything was understood.

Through my years in school, I obviously learned a lot. I do count myself lucky to have grown up with these changes in tech though. Having the changes happen as I went through school, made it easier to learn and adapt to having more and more of the world at my finger tips. I still remember a time were leaving school, or work meant that no one could contact you about it and you received some peace and quiet. Being allowed time to turn off the devices and just be unreachable is healthy for the soul.

Barbie: The Woman, The Myth, The Legend

Friday, July 21st, I joined my Aunt (mom’s sister) and her family for a birthday trip to the movie theater. We saw the Barbie Movie. As someone who grew up playing with various Barbie dolls, I really enjoyed the movie. There was more depth than I thought there would be. Also the storyline resonated with me. Now, I refuse to provide too many spoilers, so please watch it yourself if you really are interested.

Like I previously stated, I grew up playing with Barbies. I only had my older brother around at family functions until my little sister was born five years after me. Until she was born I didn’t really play that many girly games, but I was all for it by the time she arrived. Thus started my Barbie phase.

Back in the early 2000s, there were not many options to get extra clothes for these dolls, so often we would be playing with very naked toys. My sister created clothes for them out of various colors of duct tape. Honestly it was a decent solution, the dresses never got lost because you could never undress the dolls again. She definitely deserves points for creativity and getting the job done. (Side note: my grandma hated that we had naked dolls, so we would hide them when she came to visit.)

As we would play, our dolls would take damage in the conventional way, but they also would be broken other ways. My family owned a large black lab, named Bella, who developed a keen sense for doll plastics. It became her favorite thing to chew on. So several of our Barbies became amputees and we would play with them even after they began missing limbs. This created another “game” of sorts. Hide the dolls after you were done playing with them so Bella wouldn’t find them and eat a limb off. Finding spots that our Barbies could live in between play sessions that were both safe from Bella, and hidden from my grandma, was a difficult task all on its own. Not sure if this was typical play with other children, but I would throw my dolls down the stairs because they could fly in my imaginary world. My dad is a big superhero fan, so I guess I get it from him.

These dolls went through the wringer at my hands. Barbies were subjected to the same wear and tear that my other childhood toys dealt with. Hair was cut off and such to make them truly a child’s toy. Looking back now, I can’t help but smile at the memories that Barbie helped me create. I didn’t care about the beauty standards she has become the beacon for. I just wanted a person shaped doll, so I could live out my imaginary stories through them. Maybe Barbie helped me on my path to be a writer and story teller.

Summer Heat

Since we are in the middle of July now, and at the height of summer I got to thinking about how I used to spend summer vacations back in grade school. We spent quite a bit of time outside and would have to find many different ways to try and beat the heat. Summer nights hold my fondest memories though.

Specifically in high school, I had a group of friends that I still care deeply for. I am blessed with friends that have stuck with me and we still often chat to this day, nine years after I graduated. Summer was spent spending time together. We would all get together at our friend M.’s house and have a bonfire. Some nights involved movies, others board games. We would fill the house with our laughter and chatter until we decided to call it a night.

I wouldn’t call us angels, but for the most part we didn’t do the rebellious or illegal things that stereotypical high schoolers do. Inside jokes would fill our time together. Teasing each other with affection and sarcasm often too place.

My favorite memory has to be when we went to a playground by M.’s house and goofed around until we needed flash lights to see the world around us. Old school playground rules came back full force. If you were matching someone next to you on the swings, then you were “married”. The guys helped us girls get as high as we could on the swings, and helped spin the merry go round (? not sure if that is what the playground version is called.). Our laughter grew with each passing antic and sometimes got to the point where we all had to take a moment and pause long enough to take some deep breaths and get a normal amount of air back into our lungs.

Summer featured the local public pool. Most years my parents would either by a year pass or pay the fee each time we went swimming, no matter where we lived. My siblings and I learned to swim quite early in life, and my parents made sure that we were strong enough that if we were on the water, and fell in, we would be okay. Because of this training, we became little fish. A trip to the pool was always welcome and we were always excited. The pool was a sure fire activity to tire us out, and even though we were exhausted by the end of the trip, we still didn’t want to leave.

I will probably always prefer seasons with less heat, like spring, but I know that those memories hold that warmth of summer and I wouldn’t change a thing about them.

Phone Culture

This last week I got a new phone. My old one started to close out of apps that I was using and the battery life was pretty bad. Thankfully I had the option of getting one of the latest models, one of the Pixel 7 line. Obviously the new phone had updated features and a improved camera, which were big pluses for me when picking out which one to go with. But this whole process has brought a few things to mind that I didn’t think of before.

Since my phone was ordered online, and was being shipped to my house, I had to wait for it to arrive in the mail. I took the time to search Amazon for a new case that was both decent protection and still fun to look at. I ended up with a blue case that has some fun colors on the back. The drawback I found here is that my case wasn’t scheduled to arrive until Friday, the phone was projected to be in my hands by Thursday. That meant I would have some time where my phone wasn’t covered in a case, while it was in my hands.

I am a fairly clumsy person. This fact has always made me giggle due to the fact that I danced for color guard in high school, which required grace. Normally the two don’t match up. Anyways, this is the reason I have always tried my best to find a case that would really protect my phone. Lucky for me, I haven’t broken a phone yet, it is always “old age” that takes them out.

But the search for a case, and that time spent without, had gotten me thinking. Why would anyone choose to go without a case on their device? My mom always said, you pay quite a bit for that phone so it is worth your investment to pay for a decent case to protect it. So why, when you have the option of paying a little more to protect your phone, would you willing take the risk of making it easier to break?

Another thought that came to mind, is the amount of apps I have on my phone. When you have to transfer all your information and these days that incudes the apps, everything gets logged out or reset most of the time. So I have ended up deleting several apps that moved over and I realized that I hadn’t opened them in several months. So I got curious if that process is the same for everyone. Do you remove apps your not using periodically? Maybe I should start trying to implement that practice with my phone? Please let me know what you think.

One thing I will forever be thankful for though is that I am able to have a phone. That device allows me to stay in contact with my three best friends, and my friends from high school. I use it often to text my friend who lives in Virginia, sending her pictures just to make her smile when she has had a rough day. Because of my phone, I was able to send another friend a pride filled text when she graduated with her doctorate in veterinary medicine. Almost every day I get sent cute photos of my honorary niece and nephew and all their cute faces, thanks to their loving mommy, who is also my friend.

What comes to mind when you think of how cell phones are handled now, vs what they were when they first became a thing? Please let me know in the comments. I would love to hear from you.

A Day to be Repaired

On May 28th, 2019 I had surgery on my left knee. There was quite the build up to the actual operation though. I had spent nine years trying every other option that my doctor offered to relieve the pain I was constantly living with. Nothing was showing up on the MRI scans or X-rays. No one could tell me what was causing me so much pain. I had gotten to the point that I was starting to think that there was no fix for me, and/or it was all in my head.

It all started October 10th, 2011. I had been dealing with knee issues, mainly jumpers knee, since sixth grade, but that day was different. During color guard practice for our home show that others had been setting up for to go on that night, I was turning around, and when I went to bend my knee, it gave out. Staggering amounts of pain came from my knee and I couldn’t speak through it in a normal voice. I was told by my coach who had to have been 50 yards away, that he heard what sounded like two hollow metal poles hitting each other, and when he turned to look all he found was me on the ground holding my flag like a safety blanket.

My teammates helped me off the field, and my mother was informed. She had been helping set up so she came to check on me. I iced my knee and marched through the pain that night to go on with my marching band. I told no one about the pain for the next week. The weekend after Home Show was the state compotation and I wanted to finish the season. Come Monday I couldn’t walk due to the pain.

This set of events started a sequence of many doctor appointments and treatments that ultimately lead me to being sent to the Mayo Clinic central hospital in Rochester, MN. There I met Dr. Dahm. That woman was my savior. She listened and helped me decide it was finally time to tailor a known surgery to my needs. Before I had been told that there wasn’t great odds that I would have less pain after. She didn’t promise pain reduction either, only that the structure would be repaired and that I would be able to learn to trust my knee again.

So I scheduled the operation for the summer months because I really didn’t want to be on crutches during the winter, plus I could wear shorts with the giant brace that came with recovery. My mom, grandma, and I spent the night before in a hotel. Needing to be at the hospital bright and early, and living three hours away did not mix. Doctors came in to the preop room and signed my knee to make sure we were all on the same page. Didn’t want to cut open the wrong limb. They even showed up this laser guide that helped the nurse put my IV in. My grandma was very interested in that laser thing.

The next thing I knew I was being wheeled into the cold operating room. I don’t remember much after that until I was eating dinner in my room. The doctors were pretty happy that I was hungry after, because the stomach tends to be fairly tired after surgeries.

My mom found a shirt, that I still wear these days, in the gift shop. It states proudly that I was repaired in Rochester. The laughter that shirt caused really helped me feel lighter after the surgery. What made me feel even better was when at my post op appointment, my doctor told me that they found the reason I was in so much pain for so long. The back of my knee cap was pretty damaged from rubbing on the bottom of my femur. With the structure work they did in the surgery, I no longer have to worry about that.

Recovery was quite the process. I hated not being able to do things for myself. My sister heard me complaining about that and found her own way to help me feel better. Normally I am the one who scoops the ice cream for the family when we have it. I couldn’t do that confined to a large chair in the living room though. But my sister told me to grab my lap desk, and brought me over the scoop, the ice cream, and my bowl. I was able to serve myself at least and that absolutely made my day. It was the little things like that, that made me feel more like me.

I will forever be grateful for the scars that I now carry on my knee. 36 stitches, eight weeks using crutches to walk, and four months in a brace at all times. People say that your don’t know what you got until it is gone, and those moments of recovery certainly taught me to value the ability to do things for myself, and to find joy in the little things during the day.

Summer Storms

One year my family had a reunion hosted at our local campground. We had set up in the group site so everyone could be together and the spaces used for meals would be communal. My parents had set up their big green tent which houses six people, while my sister and I were in smaller tents. Think sort of like having our own bedrooms while camping.

We didn’t expect the rain. Several of us threw on ponchos and other rain gear, mostly the younger generation, and played in the rain as it fell. The older folks laughed at our antics and sat together under the large roof structure that was at the center of the site. A smaller pop up was set up to go over the grill so we could still have our meals and various card games started to make their way to the tables as entertainment when we were done for now playing in the puddles.

That night I fell asleep to the sound of rain dancing on the outer shell of my small tent. Rain has always been one of my favorite sounds. The drops of water hitting the roof, or colliding with the windows just to run down them, helps me fall asleep. There is even a rain noise maker app on my phone for when I am having a difficult time getting my mind and body to wined down at the end of the day. It put me into such a sound sleep that it took quite a racket to wake me.

My father woke my sister and I up in the middle of the night. I was startled awake by the entirety of my tent shaking, thanks to my dad who was doing his best to get through the sleep fog. He called to me through the roar of rain and thunder, trying to get me to be awake enough to understand my situation at the time. When I moved on my air mattress, the entire thing shifted across the bottom of the tent. This action startled more awareness into me. Deciding to truly test out what I had just felt, I poked at the floor in my tent. The water outside had gotten so deep that it waved back at me with ripples.

It was by that point that I understood that I had picked a low spot in the ground for my tent, and that pretty soon the water was going to be so high that it was going to start to pour in my zippered door. I quickly, or at least as fast as I could possibly half asleep and walking on water, got out of my tent and rushed through the rain that was hammering down with my dad to the tent that he shared with my mom. Inside, my mom and sister were waiting and trying to set up a spot that would be comfy enough for us to sleep through the rest of the night.

Dad pulled the stakes that anchored our tiny tents to the ground and tried his best to pull them to higher ground. Thankfully it was this action that made it so I didn’t have to spend the following day in the same pjs. We had to find a way to dry out some of the larger things because water has a way of being a pest, but for the most part we managed to find our way through the storm.

Those memories serve as great reminders for me. The warm glow of happy faces and laughter shows me that even when the world around you is trying to throw everything it has at you, trying to knock you down, you can still dance in the rain and count on those closest to you to come to your aid when it certainly looks bleak.

The Family Pet

I always was surrounded by animals growing up. Several dogs at once, and a few cats that would lounge around the house like royalty. My current lot is three dogs, (River, Cooper, and Maggie), and three cats (Erza, Pho, and Gobi). Something I have learned being with these animals through my life, is there is a very deep connection that forms between an owner and the pet. Even if the animal did not choose you as their human, you become attached to the creature, and your memories have this happy glow to them.

My pets have always been furry, and that would be because I am not a huge fan of the other varieties. I am glad that other people find space in their hearts for these animals, because I certainly wouldn’t be able to properly take care of them due to my aversion. If you own a creature of the scaly persuasion, then I am truly happy for you. Those animals deserve to have the best life that can be given to them.

Cats in particular seem to really enjoy being around me. Since I was ten years old I have been a proud cat mom. Now for those who are against using the parent terms with our fur babies, please note that I have thought it through and found it appropriate. You take care of every need these animals have. You buy them toys and food, take them to the doctor when they are under the weather. There is a responsibility that you take on when you adopt an animal. I don’t have kids, so I can’t compare completely, but too many people their pets are their babies.

As a cat mom, I have had a partner in crime, a best friend, and a furry soulmate all wrapped into one. Smokey was my first cat. My dad brought home two kittens when I was ten years old. They had been barn cats and he only meant to adopt one, but couldn’t separate them because they were playing together and having the best time. So Smokey and her brother Riley became part of our family. Riley chose my younger sister as his person, and he completely understood what she needed out of that relationship. Smokey chose me and I was completely honored to be her person.

It wasn’t very obvious at first, but turned out that Smokey was born blind. There was no physical problem with her eyes, which we a crystal blue that I just adored, so we assumed that the connection along her optic nerve or in her brain wasn’t quite working. This fact never changed anything for me and our relationship though. Even though she couldn’t see like an average cat, she never knew what she was missing. I would pick out toys that made noise, or had reflective surfaces because it seemed like she could pick out some lights and shadows. Smell was a big thing for her, and it seemed to drive how she found her way around the world.

At age 24, I unfortunately lost her due to the original brain condition that she was born with. The vet told me to be very proud of how long she had lived because most cats with brain issues don’t live to be 14. Two weeks later, I adopted Erza. Some may say that is too fast to adopt another, but I had all this love to give and without my cat to give it to, I was lost. Erza helped heal me. She gave me plenty of reasons to smile again and to feel safe loving another cat like I had with Smokey.

Each animal has their own personality. Smokey was fairly calm, and took her time figuring out her next move. Erza loves to play with my pens, and throws her whole self into every adventure she possibly can have. (Obviously this will sometimes get her into trouble.) These differences made me feel my grief in the beginning, when I so desperately wanted Smokey back. However as time has gone by, I realized that I love that Erza is not a carbon copy of my first kitty. I enjoy watching her eyes and how they explore her surroundings, mostly because Smokey’s eyes never reacted to her world. Erza chases after toys that I throw, and I really enjoy that I am finding a new way to interact with my cat.

Our pets have love to give, and I am completely certain that they understand us in their own way. They come give us cuddles when we are sad. They know when to back off and give us a moment to ourselves. Specific words make more sense to them, like your word for their favorite toys, or what you call their meals/food. Overall though, I know that Erza understands me when I explain something to her, and the other animals in my house show the same intelligence spark in their eyes. (Don’t get me wrong there are some animals that are not the brightest crayon in the box, but the same goes for people.)

That bond that forms between us and our pets is incredibly strong and I know that I never want to go for very long in my life without having some form of it. To know the love of an animal, is to know truly unconditional love. They don’t know the concept of hate, or prejudice. It certainly makes me laugh when I see them thinking that a stranger is just a friend they haven’t met yet. They never dislike someone without getting to know who they really are.

I will forever be thankful for the time I got with Smokey, and all my other pets who have passed on. I am also so grateful for the bonds that I have now. The possibility of even more bonds out there that I have yet to make excites me. Hopefully some of you readers feel the same way.

Letter to the Future

Recently one of my friends had her second child, and it got me thinking. Maybe, someday, they might need to hear some advice or memories that I have to share. So here is a letter to W. and A., her children, from an honorary auntie.

Dear W. and A.,

Who knows if you will ever actually read this, but I thought I could at least try and leave some form of a note for you in case you need this somewhere down the line. You two were/are my first try at being an adult figure for children. Of course I babysat back in high school but it is different when one of your best friends has kids. With that fact in mind I have a few things that I think you should keep in mind as you explore the world and this crazy thing we call life.

First I want you to know that your mother is one of my favorite people in this world. She has been there for me through quite a bit and has never once complained. You are incredibly lucky to have been blessed to call her your mother. Never forget that you got a good one and that I know for a fact that each day as you grow, she only loves you more and more than the day before. So don’t worry if you have to tell her that you screwed up or that something about you is different than the majority. She will love you just because you are her child. That will never change.

Second, being normal is vastly overrated. Some of the most interesting people I have met in my life are the ones with quirks. They look at the world from a different perspective, and sometimes that is exactly what you need, a fresh set of eyes. Surround yourself with the people who have dance parties while making dinner, and are so passionate about something that they can’t help but share that enthusiasm with the world. Without the type of people who are different from everyone else, we would never have gotten the advancements that make your life easier and more interesting.

Third, create art whenever you can. You may not be hanging in galleries across the country, but you will have a creative spirit. That spark can take you places you only dreamed of. Art is one of the purest forms of self expression, and sharing that with the world is a beautiful thing. Trust me, at least you will be able to decorate your future homes with things that matter to you.

Fourth, know that there is no one right way to do things. If there was only one correct path in life, we would all be the same. Having a world filled with diverse people confirms that there are an infinite amount of ways to move forward with your life. Whatever you attempt, if you get frustrated because it is not working out like you hoped, try another angle. You two are such unique people that there has to be a path that is completely your own.

And lastly, celebrate with your friends. Your mother and I have been there to cheer each other on since high school. I got so excited when she told me that she was expecting you, both times. She was thrilled for me when I had my knee surgery, and then showed her the scars that meant I was healing. When life gives you people that you just connect with, make sure to celebrate their wins and take an interest in more aspects in their lives than just them as a person. It will only show them how invested you are in the friendship and make it that much more rewarding.

You two are incredible and I am honored to be part of your lives. Watching you grow and learn is a true joy. I hope life is easy for you, and that you always know that you have some place to turn should you need it.

Your honorary Auntie,

K. F. Wiltrout

Changing of Seasons

For a while now I have been working on taking a photo of my local spring house in each season. The last one I had to capture was the spring season. Today I finally managed to take that picture. I thought it was so interesting because of the foliage around such a small but unique building, and how it would change through the year. Finally getting the picture to complete my set has gotten me thinking about what else changes with the seasons.

Fashion of course changes. You need to dress according to the weather. Although pretty much all of us know that one guy, usually a teen, who will wear short year round, weather be damned. After the heat of summer I look forward to when it is finally cold enough to wear my own version of a uniform which consists of jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel over shirt. Usually all of this is combined with my current favorite pair of converse shoes.

Activities change with the time of year. In winter you can take your kids sledding down the local hills. Then in summer you take trips to the local pool for swimming lessons. Holiday traditions often follow along with the time of year the holiday takes place in. Christmas has songs that call for a white blanket of snow to be covering the ground outside your window. While a holiday like the 4th of July features water games and grilling out with family and friends.

Something that I am thankful doesn’t seem to change with the seasons, is how close my family is. No matter the weather we find a way to share the love. Home cooked food, fresh treats, pictures sent over text, a long phone call that makes you remember just how great it is to catch up with someone who means quite a bit to you. We always find ways to connect with each other. (I am also grateful for the internet and how easy it has become to stay in touch with family I only get a chance to see in person once a year.)

One of my best friends recently had a baby and I can’t wait to watch as this new life gets to explore and experience what the seasons have to bring. Welcome to the world A. K.!

Fear’s Power

Fear has this insane ability to cripple us. Nothing truly brings you to your knees like a true phobia. I will never claim to be fearless because my phobias certainly make me look like a total wimp when they arise in my life. Needles, spiders, and falling, seem to rule my life sometimes.

I was 18 before I could muster up enough courage to get my ears pierced. I had already graduated high school and was preparing for my first year of college before I decided that I wanted to wear pretty and fun earrings more than I feared the event that would make that possible. Sitting in the chair at Claire’s I felt pretty silly. I know I should have gone to a real professional to get it done, but we were in the mall and I decided spur of the moment to get it done and over with.

I had seen little girls just hop into the chair and not even flinch when they got their first or even second holes. My fear had me shaking and begging me to chicken out again just like I had every other time I had tried. Starting at age six my godmother tried to take me several times to get my ears pierced, but I couldn’t make it past the colored marker making dots on the skin to make sure they were even on both sides. (On a side note, I had my ears pierced for almost a year before I even managed to remember to tell my God mother that I had finally done it. Sorry.)

When I finally sat down in the chair I asked if they could have another person come over and help so both sides could get done at the same time. That way it would be over quicker. While they set that up, I picked out some starter earrings that had my birthstone on them. By the count of three it was over with and I was being told about after care instructions.

The relief that I felt afterwards was pretty euphoric. I was sort of dizzy and not paying that much attention to the world around me. All I wanted to do was pose for pictures that I could then send to my friends to show them that I finally had done it and could wear pretty earrings.

Looking back, I really wish I had just faced my fear and gotten my ears pierced earlier in life, like those other little girls. Then I could have worn fancy earrings to my high school dances and on the few dates I actually have been on. Learning that I can’t change the past and I just need to live with my life story has been an interesting journey for me. I guess this is just one more quirk that makes me unique.

Easter Weekend: Family Style

On my Mom’s side of the family we have never been very religious. Easter mostly serves as an excuse to come together and spend time with family that we don’t see that often. My Mom has an older sister, who has a family unit of four, and a younger brother, with a family unit of four as well. As the youngest generation grows up, not all of us will spend Easter at home, but the majority of the family shows up.

In the grandkid generation there is my older brother, myself, my younger sister, our cousin L., cousin W., cousin A., and cousin C. all together most of the time. L. spent this year with her boyfriend and his family so we were one grandkid short of a set, but she did a video call to make sure she could say hello and pass on Easter greetings.

Cousins A. and C. are the youngest, at seven (C.) and eight (A.) years old. My aunt and her husband live with them in Minnesota, so whenever they visit, I am very happy to see them. Thankfully this time around, they arrived on Friday so we got more than just one day to hang out and have fun. The girls decorated the driveway of my family’s house, since we were hosting and the weather was so nice. Seeing them draw out this massive hop scotch game reminded me of warm sunny days trying to make the biggest and longest course I could on the sidewalk/surrounding pavement. I would use as many colors as I could to make it more fun and pretty.

Obviously part of Saturday was spent coloring eggs. Each person gets one egg with their name on it, and those are saved for the next morning’s breakfast. Any additional eggs that have been hard boiled, are still colored and put away for the next morning, but they are fair game to any who are hungry. We use crayons to make designs and make sure to leave the eggs in the dye long enough to make the colors extra bold. The vinegar smell always brings back memories of past years when we would dye eggs, but it also reminds me of midsummer when we make brine for that year’s homemade pickles.

The dogs absolutely adore the weekends when we all get together as well. My family’s three, River, Maggie, and Cooper, get together with my grandparent’s dog Ruby and the pack truly enjoyed the nice sunny day we were blessed with. They were running around on the grass that is finally showing from under the melting snow, and wrestling with each other. Maggie, because she is about half the size of the other three dogs, mostly barks from the sidelines as a referee. Meal time has to be their favorite though because they are pros at puppy dog eyes. Small morsels of food make their way under the table and to some very happy puppies.

This year my aunt provided plastic eggs for an egg hunt. I helped out with hiding them in the front yard, mostly to avoid potential doggy yard bombs getting in the way. The eggs held small bouncy balls, dino skeletons, tiny unicorns, and of course candy. Over 50 eggs were hidden with various difficulty and thankfully all were found. Jokes were made that we would lose a few and find it months or even years later and laugh about it.

Easter day featured a large brunch as a celebration. My aunt and her crew had to return home that afternoon so we had decided early on to have brunch be our big meal that day. Colored eggs were surrounded by coffee cake, waffles, an egg bake, bacon, sausage, orange rolls, and topped off by fruit. If there is one thing my family can do, it is cook. Several people were asking for half servings of things because they wanted to maintain room for a taste of everything.

Family has always meant the world to me. Easter is just another reason to see them and celebrate life together. I will forever be grateful to have been blessed with such an incredible family to celebrate with.

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-A small message from Maggie, who hit the keyboard with her paw as I was writing.

Birthdays: Celebrating Another Year!

Well, I have made another trip around the sun. I am another year older. Maybe a little bit wiser too? I have always enjoyed the extra love I receive on my birthday. Getting woken up by my parents before they leave for work, so they can be the first ones to wish me a very Happy Birthday and give me my present. This year it was two new sets of very soft pajamas that I was in desperate need of. As I have gotten older I have come to value more the presents that are things that I need and will actually use, than the silly luxury gifts. Things like new pjs and bookmarks from my one of my favorite fandoms, show that the person was really listening to me and knows details about me that shows they care.

I also love gifts of new things I haven’t had the chance to try, especially art things. My friend B. sends me a gift every year and usually it is some art tool I haven’t been brave enough to spend my own money on because I am afraid that I won’t get my moneys worth out of it. I have gotten to try out so many new things just because she is my friend and she listens when I offer up ideas that I would like to try.

Gifts also have a challenge for the Birthday Person, at least I personally have one. I don’t want to ask for too much from my friends and family. Money is a very real worry for me, and I know the feeling of not being able to afford that one thing that my loved one asked for. So to combat this worry a bit, I try and aim for a decent sized list of things that are around $20. Twenty bucks, to me, seems like a nice amount that you can still afford it but it is a quality gift. My friend A. loves when I go to the Dollar Tree to get her gift. The same amount of money gets quite a few little things that she will find useful and like a treat to herself. Like candy that she doesn’t have to share with her son or husband.

Speaking of A., she is what has become known as my Birthday Buddy. Her birthday is the day before mine, so we have taken to picking a day during the week and exchanging gifts between us. During high school, because her birthday means she is just over 24 hours older than me, it was fun to have someone to go through the milestone ages with. Our senior year, our 18th birthdays landed on a weekend, and my family took me out to dinner to celebrate along with a few of my friends. I hesitated planning the dinner for Saturday because that fell on A.’s birthday and I didn’t want to intrude on her day. Thankfully she is an incredible person and she understood when I asked. She attended the dinner and we sang her happy birthday as well.

Looking back on my birthdays, I have always felt loved and celebrated. No matter how small the present, my loved ones have more than made up for it with time. Time spent cooking my favorite meal for a birthday dinner. Time spent picking up a cheese cake from the bakery. (I much prefer cheese cake over regular cake.) Time spent making my heart melt with mushy notes written on cards. Many of which I keep in a treasure box in my bedroom. But most of all, time spent making me laugh and smile.

I am so grateful for my incredible friends and amazing family. They make each trip around the sun that much better.

Springs To Mind

Even as a kid, I preferred spring weather to those of any other season. I have never been a fan of the deep freeze that comes with winter and the extreme heat that summer brings. The colors of fall are pretty incredible, but spring has always had my heart.

The world comes back to life in the spring. Rain storms provide quiet cozy days spent indoors or splashing in puddles. My family’s garden sprouts new seedlings that will soon become beautiful blooms. Daffodils, my favorite flowers, are one of the first to show off their buds of bright yellow. While I was in college they were the first real sign that spring had started to come to campus and that I wouldn’t have to deal with trudging through the slush and snow much longer.

Every year, for as long as I can remember, I would wish for the snow to be all melted by my birthday in the last few days of March. A couple of times I have gotten close, but never have I gotten it to be completely gone. One year it even snowed as late as May. I was certainly not thrilled with Mother Nature then. The sooner all the snow is melted and gone, the better in my opinion.

This year I am looking forward to those late night thunderstorms that have such deep rumbles that you can feel them in your chest. Rain has always been a calming sound to me and I will often play it as a white noise while I am sleeping or trying to meditate. The pitter patter against the window pane, and the far off grumble of thunder has gotten me to fall asleep more times than I can count.

I am sure Erza is looking forward to the warmer weather as well. The first time it is warm enough for me to open my windows and let the air flow through, she is instantly sitting in the window sill and taking deep breaths of the fresh air and basking in the sunshine. Erza is also harness trained, so she looks for every opportunity to go outside and do some exploring, and maybe even some hunting. Sadly due to our home location, during the winter I have to tell her that it is too cold for her to be outside. “Too cold for kitty toes,” I say. She pouts and yowls her dismay that I am denying her any form of adventure or mental stimulation. Be rest assured though, them moment I deem it warm enough, and reach for her harness, she is instantly purring and helping the best she can to get the buckles clipped in and ready to go.

Spring has always been a sign of hope and renewal for many people. This idea is at the root of my fondness for the season. It stands as a very real sign that things get better, you just have to look for the signs and wait.

Warm Thoughts On Cold Days

Growing up, snow days were always interesting. Sledding with my siblings, playing in the snow, and warm drinks when we came back inside. Now as an adult, I don’t participate in these outdoor activities very often and I much prefer to stay inside when the weather starts to turn sour. When it comes to weather, I am very much a “Goldilocks” type person. Not too hot, not too cold, I need it just right.

On cold weather days now, I curl up inside with my cat Erza, and enjoy indoor entertainment. Reading a book, binging my latest show obsession, or playing with my dogs, all serve as activities to help me get through the day. Every so often though, I will through on my jacket and boots to step outside with my dogs into the back yard. River and Cooper, the two boys, will often race through the snow drifts, wrestling and playing tag, while Maggie, the girl, who is smaller than the boys, barks at them as some form of referee or egging them on from the sidelines. Maggie is small enough that when these large snow storms come to my area, my Dad actual takes the snow plow and makes paths around the back yard to allow Mags to actually go out in the yard with the boys and do her business somewhere other than the shoveled out patio. My grandparent’s dog, Ruby, has become well known for loving the snow and will go out and must roll around on her back at least once before she will come inside. When she comes to visit my house, she absolutely adores having more dogs to romp through the snow with and more space to roll around in fresh untouched powder, because her yard at home isn’t very big.

Warm memories also help get through the days where it seems like the white powder won’t stop falling from the sky. I remember making stews and soups with my Grandma and Grandpa when we would come visit during the winter months. Once we were old enough to start helping out, we would be put to work, peeling potatoes and carrots, chopping vegetables, and mixing up dough for either homemade noodles or dumplings. This work was always accompanied by laughter and most of the time some form of music coming from the player in the corner of the kitchen.

I live in Wisconsin where if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes and it will change. While I really dislike snow, too the point that I tease my family that it is another four letter swear word that starts with S, I don’t think I could see myself being too far from here for that long. Wisconsin is home. Wisconsin has my family, and has been the location that a lot of my favorite memories have been made. No matter my opinion on snow, I doubt I could leave the warm memories and loving people behind.