tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61584311585169980922024-03-05T09:39:24.963-08:00Finding the Wonderful in Todaysasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.comBlogger150125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-21072787936371045422013-09-27T22:32:00.000-07:002013-09-27T22:32:54.406-07:00Love Letter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78SQY8q_sV00Q-Rk5VWEA8oMHj7mfI15XF7aiC_TZp34vwe8xrTSJU8qhRNc04BXG7vMhh1wiQGkNPtPTO_lHfIg_oRKJGVWnYTAkU-T8sp0-aEN1JApk19TEOgOyMmWAMNsupIII6S-o/s1600/IMG_1992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78SQY8q_sV00Q-Rk5VWEA8oMHj7mfI15XF7aiC_TZp34vwe8xrTSJU8qhRNc04BXG7vMhh1wiQGkNPtPTO_lHfIg_oRKJGVWnYTAkU-T8sp0-aEN1JApk19TEOgOyMmWAMNsupIII6S-o/s320/IMG_1992.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>before you</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>the hum drum of daily life was boring and held no meaning</i><br />
<i>going around in circles, repetitive tasks to pass the time</i><br />
<i>seasons cycled through without notice</i><br />
<i>escape</i><br />
<i>thats all i could think of</i><br />
<i>get away</i><br />
<i>live near the ocean</i><br />
<i>adapt to a rythmic quiet life at sea</i><br />
<i>hide within myself</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>after you</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>then there was you and only you</i><br />
<i>our hearts collide</i><br />
<i>although the world is still rotating</i><br />
<i>time pulses around us, unnoticed</i><br />
<i>life is shared, revealing a sense of purpose</i><br />
<i>loving you</i><br />
<i>thats all i think of now</i><br />
<i>eating up life in big bites, forgetting to chew</i><br />
<i>i love you</i><br />
<i>i always have</i><br />
<i>i always will</i>sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-42163857956206811742013-04-24T20:52:00.002-07:002013-04-24T21:12:50.038-07:00Personal Tormentors<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZxqVMpVqVY38w4MBqxQEjQIfgg2PqPPX8RsKDjejz2wPXD8tiEg_c6rPW9CmuMc5eKIpC_Q7JSDzj7ozahUkoncmYgO1UTDzhxR5TnMKZGPa-3tsuL9zStTZkQGxi5-WKU9PaIrarn3B/s1600/strength.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZxqVMpVqVY38w4MBqxQEjQIfgg2PqPPX8RsKDjejz2wPXD8tiEg_c6rPW9CmuMc5eKIpC_Q7JSDzj7ozahUkoncmYgO1UTDzhxR5TnMKZGPa-3tsuL9zStTZkQGxi5-WKU9PaIrarn3B/s320/strength.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"A strong woman has faith that she is strong enough for the journey <br />
-- but a woman of strength has faith that <i> it is in the journey</i> that she will become strong." <br />
-anon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My mother always said that when life throws you lemons, add tequila and make margaritas. I'm sure she didn't mean that we should proceed to the nearest bar, although I just might have done that a time or two, as a healthy buzz can sometimes change one's perspective. Instead, I believe she meant that we need to try to find the best in others and in the situations we find ourselves in, no matter who is at fault.<br />
<br />
With respect to her advice, this isn't always the easiest path to navigate. At first glance it appears much easier to dwell in the immediate misery, becoming bitter and resentful, holding a grudge, plotting revenge and crawling inside of ourselves. Be forewarned that doing so will shut us off from the rest of the world, stunt our personal growth, shade our happiness and wither our hearts (advice from my dad). We might as well be dead. Instead, although more difficult to traverse, it would appear to be wiser to choose the path to enlightenment which enables us to become better people through the difficult circumstances and blunders we sometimes find ourselves in.<br />
<br />
Ultimately, these stressful situations most often involve a person who suffers from delusions of their own creation. I have no doubt these people have encountered their own personal trials but I also have no doubt that they have chosen to not better themselves because of those events. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that they live in a hallucination that is a complex web of pretenses and passive-aggressive motives that are required to maintain their deceptive reality. Unfortunately, I am sure we have all found ourselves faced with one of these so called personal tormentors of self esteem. Others might call them bullies. They are like the angel of death but instead they come to prey upon our self worth, hacking off bits and pieces of it until we are reduced to a shameful pile of insecurity that resembles our tormentor. Didn't someone say that the greatest cowards are most often the greatest bullies?<br />
<br />
Ultimately, we must make a choice on how to react to that situation or that person. It's not always simple to remove ourselves from this type of oppressiveness. It takes time, patience, planning, and maybe even a good margarita (or two or three) to help us cope and forge a way out. But what I have found works best is a regular regime of dosing the self-esteem - consistently doing something that makes us feel worthwhile - mantras in front of the mirror, a therapist, a daily hug, writing in a journal, eating chocolate, a spa day, yoga, shopping, hanging with good friends, etc. Much satisfaction can also be found in the role that karma plays - allowing the timeless cycle of what goes around, to come around. This ensures that the seed of self-respect that is planted within us, is nurtured and never allowed to waste away. This cultivates an unbreakable pride and belief in the self.<br />
<br />
And to those challenges we are facing or have faced, we may not fully understand why we had to go through them, but we will be able to say without a doubt, that we were able to emerge with only a few scratches because we reached deep within ourselves and found the will to survive.<br />
<br />
And with that, I have this to say to a former personal tormentor who attempted to ruin me:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your lack
of self respect, I learned to revere mine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your lack
of organization, I honed my skills at juggling multiple priorities<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your
inefficiencies, I became a trusted resource<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your
childish immaturity, I matured and embraced my adulthood<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you were
uncaring, I cared even more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you took
credit where credit was not due, I was not responsible for your failure<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you stole my
ideas, I thought of better ones<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your lies,
I held steadfast to the truth</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you sought to
destroy me, I became powerful<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you never
followed through, I never let anything slip by<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you disliked
me, I liked myself even more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you put me
down, I learned to build myself back up stronger<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you told me I
was worthless, I grew to be invaluable<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your
unprofessionalism, I developed expertise <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because you hated me,
I discovered how to love myself<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your
cruelty, I found compassion<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your
deceit, I acquired integrity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">because of your weakness, I
have limitless strength</span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;">And most all of, I forgive you. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18px;">Because in forgiving our tormentors, we allow ourselves to grow and move on so that now when it's time for a margarita, it's not to drown our sorrows, but instead it's to celebrate our life, and applaud our strength. Although we might just be reveling in the fact that our tormentor no longer has a stronghold on us, we do wish for the sake of all humanity and the intricate web that connects us all, that they might grow a heart one day and resolve to become better people. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18px;">Either way, each step we take through the journey of life, we are given the opportunity to enjoy it fully and to love ourselves and others with wild abandon. No one can ever take that away from any of us. So the next time you get a lemon, throw some tequila into the mix but don't cry about it, see it as a chance to find something wonderful, even if it is not immediately apparent. Because love is what makes the world go round. And without it, we'd be just as bad as our personal tormentors.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-56398567584858211562013-04-10T21:10:00.001-07:002013-04-10T21:11:47.156-07:00Tribal Law of Sisterhood<br />
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<em style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><strong>"Stop fighting and bickering. </strong></em><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><strong><i>One day you will realize how thankful you are for one another."</i> </strong></span><em style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">~ Our Mom, Mother of 4 Girls</span></em></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is something about having sisters that is an incredible gift. My three sisters are my best friends. No matter where we are in life or where life takes us, we always have each other. We are sometimes strewn miles apart in our locations, differences, beliefs, convictions and habits, but our hearts are melded together in a bond that cannot be broken. A bond that does not judge and a bond that only gets stronger with time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Of course as young girls, we fought, yelled and slammed doors in one anothers faces. We stole clothes from each others closets and tattled when appropriate and to our advantage. But as we grew up into young women, then wives, then mothers, we restored our sisterhood when we found we could balance life a little easier when we could revert to our familiar and comfortable role as sisters. There is nothing in the world like having sisters. And there is nothing in the world that I wouldn't do for any of one of them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's hard to explain sisterhood to those who don't have sisters. It's a complicated relationship based entirely on the cosmic rules of birth, shared blood and circumstance. Sisters aren't able to choose one another. Thrown together by fate and by the family they are born into, they must learn to tolerate one another's sudden appearance into their lives. Suddenly everything must be shared, and attentions must be split. Then rules and boundaries must be created in order to maintain individual identities while concurrently becoming friends. Conflicts arise as these boundaries are identified and experimented with. Lines are drawn and re-drawn, some are negotiated, some are forced. Yet inevitably with time, these closely guarded borders loosen. There is no need now for such a tight reign as we sisters have grown to trust and rely on one another and as we realize that without a doubt, if all others fail us, we will never fail each other. </span></span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 15.994318008422852px;">Our sisterhood is a tribe whose terrain is protected and defended vigorously.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #646464;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">Of course, mistakes are made, communication errors abound and misunderstandings occur. Enough battles will be fought to sink any friendship but not a sisterhood. These things only </span><span style="line-height: 15.994318008422852px;">strengthen</span><span style="line-height: 16px;"> the bond and enforce the reliance on one another. For that is all it is - a temporary blip, a learning experience, learning to say I'm sorry and being sure to forgive. Because now matter what we do, we will always be sisters. We can never change that fact. Ever. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #646464;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">Soon we appreciate the dawning realization that we are each others keepers for our entire existence and probably beyond. </span></span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 15.994318008422852px;">We have pack codes, a secret language and an intimate knowledge of each other that begins at birth and goes on through out our entire existence. We accept each other completely for who we are.</span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 15.994318008422852px;"> </span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;">We expect and fulfill a lifetime </span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 15.994318008422852px;">commitment</span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;"> to each other that requires no </span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 15.994318008422852px;">ceremony</span><span style="color: #646464; line-height: 16px;">, no legalities, and no approvals. There is not another person on this earth that can penetrate our sister tribe or understand us the way we understand each other. We can all speak at once and still have heard each word the other said. We can speak with no words and still know what the other conveyed. We are each others universe, a vast and complicated territory where no man dares tread and where others are intrigued by the mystery of this intense relationship we have. We are impenetrable. We are sisters united by our childhood. We know each others hearts, fundamental selves and are linked by a volatile love that gives meaning to our lives. There is no better friend than a sister and my sisters, there is no one better than you!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><i><b>She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child</b>. <span style="font-size: x-small;">~Barbara Alpert</span></i></span></span></div>
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sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-73166797037102806102013-04-09T20:00:00.000-07:002013-04-09T20:24:45.509-07:00Ensalada de Pollo de BlingIn my never ending quest for excellent lunch menu items, I've come up with a fabulous spring recipe worth sharing. This dish, best served cool, is easily transportable and would be great to bring to a potluck, a picnic, a luncheon or even as a dinner side. I personally think this dish would pair nicely with blanket rolled out at the beach, bare feet and a bubbling Prosecco. But without all that glam, it still worked nicely for my weekday work lunches which I paired with a big ole glass of agua.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ensalada de Pollo de Bling</span><span style="font-size: large;"> (glammed up chicken salad with some bling)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Dairy Free, Grain Free (so naturally Gluten-Free), Egg Free and can be made Nut Free</i></span></div>
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<ul>
<li>Cook a whole organic pastured chicken:</li>
<ul>
<li>Wash the chicken and remove innards</li>
<li>Rub in a bit of olive oil and a good bit of salt and pepper</li>
<li>Cook at 450 degrees for 15 minutes then turn down heat to 375 degrees for another hour, depending on the size of the chicken </li>
<li>When done, check to be sure chicken reaches appropriate temperature</li>
</ul>
<li>Set the chicken aside to cool</li>
<li>Pull the meat off from the bone</li>
<li>Shred or chop the cooked chicken into bite size pieces and put in a bowl</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXIaDfrei9_Fwptmt8AN7_1DB41YHnZdCwHLnbFmXurrGWNJkTjBS5ewbK_0ad_IOYwuZ1NjPVzQfJ9yxoOQlmv9lEY7xFS_XLRYIb-vXrmT2T5ZCy3qsbAh_TIF0pVrAFeXQP22Dxe1b/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXIaDfrei9_Fwptmt8AN7_1DB41YHnZdCwHLnbFmXurrGWNJkTjBS5ewbK_0ad_IOYwuZ1NjPVzQfJ9yxoOQlmv9lEY7xFS_XLRYIb-vXrmT2T5ZCy3qsbAh_TIF0pVrAFeXQP22Dxe1b/s320/photo+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div>
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<ul>
<li>Add to the shredded/chopped chicken:</li>
<ul>
<li>1/2 cup chopped golden raisins</li>
<li>1/4 cup finely chopped nuts (I used walnuts, pecans, pumpkins seeds and macadamias that I blended lightly together in a blender so they came out somewhat powdery - I don't like to have to chew nuts but still want the benefits)</li>
<li>1 chopped organic apple</li>
<li>2 cups chopped organic greens (I used kale and chard)</li>
<li>Organic olive oil drizzled on to taste</li>
<li>Pepper to taste</li>
</ul>
<li>Mix well. Then throw off your shoes, pour yourself a glass of Prosecco and savor the goodness.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBs_AG6Q0GKjHjhlF-N_GPtLPiJ0S9FACrWOXVs5yHQtWQffQ39kl9CdVy_nt9b1RfwNobtLhwdvhn0BkgsJL-pcEv-LAovBEos7iywaThb5pHweijj_IoRW87w5YIaYkzMU0N5HrGfmKR/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBs_AG6Q0GKjHjhlF-N_GPtLPiJ0S9FACrWOXVs5yHQtWQffQ39kl9CdVy_nt9b1RfwNobtLhwdvhn0BkgsJL-pcEv-LAovBEos7iywaThb5pHweijj_IoRW87w5YIaYkzMU0N5HrGfmKR/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="238" /></a></div>
<br />
Some other ideas, as this is a very malleable recipe:<br />
<br />
-Substitute flax oil for the olive oil<br />
-Eat with a red wine rather than a white<br />
-Use the chicken carcass to make yourself some good ole healthy home-made broth<br />
-Wrap the chicken in lettuce to make a chicken taco<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-60138021441481792522013-03-15T20:00:00.000-07:002013-03-15T21:15:26.759-07:00Remembering Maddie<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white;"><i><b>I don't know why they call
it heartbreak. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white;"><i><b>It feels like every other part of my body is broken
too. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white;"><i><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~Missy Altijd</span></b></i></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Animal friendships must be inextricably linked to human friendships. For when an animal leaves this world, no matter
where the human relationships involved in that animal's life have ventured during those years, they are most
always brought back together to mourn the loss. It is as if love has scratched a trail across our hearts so that we may always find our way back to ourselves and to each other. And so I begin with </span></span><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">the story of Maddie. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGmhnmIU74cd5abVMgDJe6SqNAJKW1w3wpBPRlgUtrZNVi2vW_EcOCp8MCOQPAwkzeQMBGRcii_kVpYYJIK2OCj_3y_azVfv7Cm8gwKt4MOOthCIja8mlzuC9cZXfT-MBuPtHpeUENSP-/s1600/super+baby+maddie+with+W+and+S.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGmhnmIU74cd5abVMgDJe6SqNAJKW1w3wpBPRlgUtrZNVi2vW_EcOCp8MCOQPAwkzeQMBGRcii_kVpYYJIK2OCj_3y_azVfv7Cm8gwKt4MOOthCIja8mlzuC9cZXfT-MBuPtHpeUENSP-/s320/super+baby+maddie+with+W+and+S.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super tiny baby Maddie with Warren and Sarah</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Many years ago, while
going to school and living on campus with my husband, we became friends with
Lisa who was the apartment manager in our building. I have to credit my
husband, Warren, for the introductions. I tend a bit on the introvert side of
things and had not yet made it a point to meet my neighbors. Within three days
of my husband moving in with me, he had met most of the tenants on our floor,
including Lisa who lived right next door. After a few times of hanging out with
Lisa, we discovered, besides a mutual love of cocktails, a friendship that
would stand the test of time. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJmyc1R9PDV1_BsMVtuqRoFZEVSFYjrTNLqQaREI_Ine9U35Nsl0ilDBbfgY8awq3VUYrkqMv34wMa1FxG112aNCbCWgcBJDwU-kY9gkjRTjkDSVvgkfm3uKh9nyOdRC6pLGUJnLHCxkg/s1600/Lisa+Sarah+Warren.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJmyc1R9PDV1_BsMVtuqRoFZEVSFYjrTNLqQaREI_Ine9U35Nsl0ilDBbfgY8awq3VUYrkqMv34wMa1FxG112aNCbCWgcBJDwU-kY9gkjRTjkDSVvgkfm3uKh9nyOdRC6pLGUJnLHCxkg/s320/Lisa+Sarah+Warren.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisa, Sarah and Warren</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Not long after we met
Lisa, we met Jenny, one of Lisa's long time friends. As fate would have it, the
four of us bonded pretty much right away. And not too long after we all met, Lisa brought Maddie home. A 'teeny tiny and too young to be away from her mom' kitten. Of course, we all immediately rooted ourselves in this baby kitten's life, establishing our role
as godparents, even introducing her to our cats who zealously took on the role
of cat cousins.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BH3Ki74ciiMIQ3VbbyX3jUGrU4eUKA0OTXCBg8lyrrf0WYaPR97yENO6Y0PUf0KWgBBt_A411m5i8yZjZQFp7NqbXNxb8Fx7Z_nLvnRO9W0C7ryAKyLDdO2hh7DniRJTHJSXOMFzsBGr/s1600/Lisa+Jenny+Sarah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BH3Ki74ciiMIQ3VbbyX3jUGrU4eUKA0OTXCBg8lyrrf0WYaPR97yENO6Y0PUf0KWgBBt_A411m5i8yZjZQFp7NqbXNxb8Fx7Z_nLvnRO9W0C7ryAKyLDdO2hh7DniRJTHJSXOMFzsBGr/s320/Lisa+Jenny+Sarah.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisa, Jenny and Sarah</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Lisa had trouble deciding
on a name for this little bundle of strawberry blond fur. So for a while we
tried out the name Dixie on her. Then for a time she was Montana Poquito. There might
have been more but eventually Lisa settled on Maddie. Once Maddie had her name,
she officially began her life as a kitten. A crazy one at that. You know how
kittens are, running wild at all hours of the night only to drop like a
narcoleptic, sleeping like the dead. In a short time, Lisa was a bit overwhelmed. She
wasn't sure this business of being a cat mom was really her thing. She even
asked us how we would feel about adopting Maddie. Of course, as much as we
loved Maddie, we knew that Maddie and Lisa were meant for each other. We pushed
Lisa to give it a couple more weeks. Wanting to really give it go, Lisa
tried. Within a few short days, Lisa came by our apartment to inform us that
she had fallen in love with Maddie and was going to keep her. We sorta knew
that was going to happen!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7oepL0JEI0_JTJllIg25d7JomZGJT0Wg5O2NwCAqwEhy1qw6b8iXO3H9NLLPtbcxiy5C1mO3BPMKwQDAv05dpIOH7qK4OEXCVDAZ-g5l5ZOU6GZHzAmUr-Sc1Fd-XIixdcSlK1qd4O5Wf/s1600/Maddie+baby+with+W.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7oepL0JEI0_JTJllIg25d7JomZGJT0Wg5O2NwCAqwEhy1qw6b8iXO3H9NLLPtbcxiy5C1mO3BPMKwQDAv05dpIOH7qK4OEXCVDAZ-g5l5ZOU6GZHzAmUr-Sc1Fd-XIixdcSlK1qd4O5Wf/s320/Maddie+baby+with+W.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warren and baby Maddie</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">As Maddie grew, we had
'cat play dates' with all of us. Our cats would visit Lisa's apartment where
they would teach Maddie how to do cat things like getting up on the kitchen
counters, knocking knick knacks out of windows, and playing chase up and down
and all over the living room. And we would invite Maddie over to eat catnip and
hang at our pad. Just like their humans, the three cats became best of
friends. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-RC7XGcN0hugGuPvXOQKjEGIbnA0VAx-_uhyONnWSZPQV86Avk8DIw2zb0ZfgE-8JoMQ6yX41pJvDUY-31G2F_KQxZQuvjRmikDdCcYyKARtmAO7cEya5uyIVlAE-b9gqlKwllAvD8xG/s1600/three+kitties.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-RC7XGcN0hugGuPvXOQKjEGIbnA0VAx-_uhyONnWSZPQV86Avk8DIw2zb0ZfgE-8JoMQ6yX41pJvDUY-31G2F_KQxZQuvjRmikDdCcYyKARtmAO7cEya5uyIVlAE-b9gqlKwllAvD8xG/s320/three+kitties.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oshun, Maddie and Boozie eating catnip</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Maddie even adopted one of her miniature toy kittens as a baby of her own. She took 'Baby' as we now called it to the food bowl, to the water bowl and all around the house with her. There were some times when we panicked that Baby may have been lost. This was not a phase, for Maddie kept Baby with her for the rest of her days.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxh_GF8KrR92oJkFCROESuYlkm4UIfoOeyJnBcxTJwDci9m7kVDRZgxaun2ZmWVVGtjbC_kY7p4TkLv-pVIbiVuV6bCIf28zeOo10aupxUWpcGK0xUyWLu7UXNq_TUsp50g1KpmA6sQeQ/s1600/baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxh_GF8KrR92oJkFCROESuYlkm4UIfoOeyJnBcxTJwDci9m7kVDRZgxaun2ZmWVVGtjbC_kY7p4TkLv-pVIbiVuV6bCIf28zeOo10aupxUWpcGK0xUyWLu7UXNq_TUsp50g1KpmA6sQeQ/s200/baby.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eventually, we all graduated
and moved from campus. Without planning, we happened to move to the same
neighborhood as Jenny, and Lisa was just a bike ride away. As we were now in the
'burbs, we began to teach our cats how to be outside. Warren built an outdoor
enclosure out of chicken wire where the cats could come and go outside from an
open window in the house. When Maddie visited she would join her cousins in the
big adventure of discovering the outside world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUGCWg-tamkIBYvHHw84yViSf7PmfYjbQVVg-xAJfELPpY6WshB3pq76iIdi18qkwxdIxlubkcyu0mq3TLLKEx7difykZOl_qlK7G4lzK9T6f_7QQ1cNJFDiuLjNBlQUJiptvNQqdbMJr/s1600/outside.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUGCWg-tamkIBYvHHw84yViSf7PmfYjbQVVg-xAJfELPpY6WshB3pq76iIdi18qkwxdIxlubkcyu0mq3TLLKEx7difykZOl_qlK7G4lzK9T6f_7QQ1cNJFDiuLjNBlQUJiptvNQqdbMJr/s320/outside.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oshun, Boozie and Maddie in the outdoor enclosure</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After a few years, as it happens, the four of
us moved farther apart, got real jobs, and began to carve out our own niches in
the world. We didn't see each other as much but when we did, it was always a
reunion for us as well as </span>expectant<span style="font-family: inherit;"> updates on our cats.</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Sadly, we lost Oshun when she was just 5 years old and
Boozie when he was 11. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then we mourned the loss of Jennys best canine friend Frieda. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">But Miss Maddie out lived them all. Just recently, at 14
years old, Maddie’s heart grew old and eventually stopped beating. She joined her cousins in the spirit world. W</span>e are certain that they welcomed her and showed her around. In fact, we are even more certain that they have resumed their play once again and are now wreaking havoc all over cat heaven! </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66KW_zhTgQkVzBh_Gaz1ZHYTMubPeUUWvVKd1ud-9sSRrTZs0gc8TMecViYaPe3XirEOLbwEj0O5F5MP8Jk0b0cYozZPT1YULohlr1UOcRsSiHMsa2kQo_TFifc96SM6LRjwn5ubqDZM6/s320/Maddie+and+Warren+growing+up.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="239" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maddie growing up, with Warren</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcdFos_BzW9wCcFdr0Ao_adyQUrpQEHevCBmN2-l0yNdilI4AMFh8uG0Bjpx0qmDZ19jlSIxuZcHQsfJUpQ8yQrPuYmxsRMAWkb_D-N0x7w60Wxe5z0Z6v8v8nATzNTffbGx8ihxIFJQ1/s1600/Maddie+and+W+growing+up.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcdFos_BzW9wCcFdr0Ao_adyQUrpQEHevCBmN2-l0yNdilI4AMFh8uG0Bjpx0qmDZ19jlSIxuZcHQsfJUpQ8yQrPuYmxsRMAWkb_D-N0x7w60Wxe5z0Z6v8v8nATzNTffbGx8ihxIFJQ1/s320/Maddie+and+W+growing+up.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maddie growing up, with Sarah and Warren</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66KW_zhTgQkVzBh_Gaz1ZHYTMubPeUUWvVKd1ud-9sSRrTZs0gc8TMecViYaPe3XirEOLbwEj0O5F5MP8Jk0b0cYozZPT1YULohlr1UOcRsSiHMsa2kQo_TFifc96SM6LRjwn5ubqDZM6/s1600/Maddie+and+Warren+growing+up.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When the news reached me, Maddie was already gone. Brokenhearted for our animal and human friend, I immediately contacted Jenny to let her know. We all reconnected by voicemails, missed calls and texts, sending our love out to Lisa and to each other. Warren and I pulled out our pre-digital camera/pre iPhone photos (aka: paper photos, remember those?) where we spent a better portion of the evening </span>reminiscing over Maddie pictures<span style="font-family: inherit;">. Tears slid down our cheeks even as we chuckled as we remembered her shenaningens which led to us remembering all the great times we all had together.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Coming together in not only the good times but also in the hard times is the true celebration of friendship.</span>That's </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">when we realized how our animal friendships have made way for our human friendships. Going even more out on a limb, we pondered whether our animal friends choose us so that they may be there with us as we forge a path through life, leading us to people we need to have in our lives; and when they leave us, it is not just their time to go, but also their way of saying they have done their part and can only journey with us so far. They know we will be ok for they will truly not be gone because they will live on in our hearts forever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We will miss you, Miss Maddie and we are very thankful for the friendship you provided us and for the human friendships you encouraged. You took such wonderful care of your mama. Please stay close to her heart while she heals and visit her now and again. I just know she'd appreciate that! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><b>-<span style="text-align: left;"><i>Kahlil Gibran</i></span></b></span></div>
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In loving memory of Maddie,</div>
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Sass</div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">This post is dedicated to all who have mourned for the loss of their beloved pets. </span><span style="background-color: white;">Our friend Deb lost her cat, Texas; our other friend Deb lost her dog Tobin; my friend Karen lost her dog Buck; my sister Barb who lost her dog Shera, her cat Urni and her dog Chad-Chad; my sister Janet who lost their cat Peaches; my sister Susan who lost her cat Ariel; my parents who lost their dogs Timmy, Freda and Annie; my inlaws who lost their beagles Bacon and Bits; Pam and Dave who lost their lab; my friend Roz who lost her two cats; my aunt who lost her Dalmatian; my friend and sister Gwyn who lost her cat; my friend Kathy who lost her rottie Athena; our friends Irene and Dave who have lost and loved many pugs and precious Goldie; my cousin Sandy who lost Lacey just today; and all those who I have not mentioned - you are loved.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
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<!--[endif]-->sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-28097839003188880292013-03-08T17:01:00.003-08:002013-03-08T17:32:56.389-08:00Rhythm and Honey of Words<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 17.984375px;">"</span><i style="line-height: 17.984375px;">To re-create something in words is like being alive twice</i><span style="line-height: 17.984375px;">". -unknown.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was inspired today but one of my favorite authors, <a href="http://www.carolinaderobertis.com/"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Carolina de Robertis</b></span></a><i>. </i>She urged us writers to </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">"</span></span><i style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">...Read. It’s hard to make the time, I know, I know. But don’t skip it. That’s like a pro athlete who skips exercise. Or a chef with anorexia. Reading is the essential foundation of the love affair with language that lets you make art...". </i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">If you read my blog regularly, you know I've already written about my own <a href="http://findingthewonderfulintoday.blogspot.com/2010/12/purveyor-of-stories_6.html"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>love affair with reading</b></span></a>. I'll knock back 1-2 books a week, sometimes reading long into the night or straight through a whole weekend. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">When I read, a sequence of mystical events are initiated. The more I read, the better I write. Ideas flow freely, inspiration abounds, </span></span><span style="line-height: 17.984375px;">creativity</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"> jumps at the chance to express itself and then the urge to write is insatiable. Two choices exist, write or don't write. If I write, I am afforded the chance to scribe with the cadence that drives me and for a little while be cured of the fever. If I don't write, I am enveloped in an emotional tormented state, my ambition at war with my purpose. Eventually, as I hold my impulse at bay, my motivation wanes and the next time I feel the compulsion to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard), it becomes just a little bit harder to get the words out, almost as if that were punishment from whatever forces demand the words flow. </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I might as well obey or suffer the consequences, right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 17.984375px;">My mother says<i> </i></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i>all writing is a kind of suspended mental moment. We can never go back and recreate it, we can't remember how we wrote it, and we don't know where it came from</i>. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">So you see, it would be as if I were squandering a precious gift from the gods. It is my sense of duty, my obligation to read countless books, burning the midnight oil. I take pleasure basking in the the rhythm and honey of other writers words and that my friend, makes my words all the sweeter. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-44222410549737923642013-03-06T20:44:00.002-08:002013-03-07T10:36:12.945-08:00In the Kingdom of the SeasonsEvery Spring I find myself in awe and wonder, full of hope, and just a little bit stir crazy. There is always a tug of war in the kingdom of the seasons. Winters are long in the Pacific Northwest. The sun rarely visits, the days are cold and soggy and the nights are spent listening to the freezing rain pouring through the heavens. Evenings become our saving grace. Inside, in the warmth, we wear our winter socks and huddle under blankets watching movies and playing games. We concoct all sorts of soups, stews and big cuts of meat that simmer all day then deliciously greet us after work with edible aromas. We scour our bartender bibles for strong libations. Winter has taken hold, continuing his nefarious rule over the seasons.<br />
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However, once the December holidays have been thoroughly celebrated then boxed up and put away, we begin the long descent awaiting Spring. Our rain jackets and rain boots grow mildew from never completely drying out. The moisture cultivates farms of intricate moss that flourishes on every crevice of our cars, windows, front steps, bare tree limbs and walkways. It seems that every movie has been seen, every seasonal recipe tried and every game overplayed. Newscasters have worn out and overused their synonyms for rain (precipitation, showers, drizzle, driving mist, freezing rain, deluge, torrents, downpours, sprinkles, buckets...). Intrinsically, the desire for Spring takes root leaving us restless and ill at ease.<br />
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Then one day, almost imperceptibly, Spring arrives at the heels of Winter with Summer pushing in from behind, poking her head out just enough to encourage the sleeping trees and dormant bulbs to stir, setting in motion the miracle of life. Although she never rushes into things, the magic by which this mysterious season deposes her beauty around us always lures me into sheer amazement. When did the flowering fruit trees suddenly turn pink and the tiny green sprouts pushing through the hardened winter earth become bright yellow blooming daffodils? Birds begin to appear with their morning melodies when yesterday and in the long months before there was only silence.<br />
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As we emerge from hibernation, we find ourselves revitalized and consumed with plans. We pour over seed catalogues deciding what to plant in the vegetable garden; when to order mulch to fill our sodden garden beds, when to sprinkle grass seeds over muddy lawns; and what we will grill on the first sunny day. We schedule summer trips to the beach, make reservations at campgrounds and purchase wood for backyard fires.<br />
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On weekends, every window is forced open to let the stale Winter air free, inviting in the tasty breezes of early Spring. Rugs are taken outside and shaken furiously. Flowers, although mostly out of season still, are picked or bought and displayed on tables to discourage the Winter spirits from lingering.<br />
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Winter may imagine itself to be the more daunting force of nature but Spring is resilient and set in her ways. She will toss Winter from the dominion with a mandate to stay far, far, away while Spring has her corresponding time on the throne. After months of plowing through Winter's monotony, Spring reminds us to slow down and coast in neutral while enjoying her wanton displays of beauty. She puts a spring in our steps, gives us hope and inspires. Just as the withered world around us is coming back to life after a long slumber, so it is as our spirits re-awaken.<br />
<br />sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-78702014805669847792013-03-05T17:11:00.001-08:002013-04-07T13:56:22.289-07:00Fragmented (or Fermented?) Thoughts<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>'Wine is bottled poetry.'</i> <span style="font-size: x-small;">- Robert Lewis Stevenson</span></div>
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This is not the first time I have felt frustrated by the fragmented thought process of poetry. Where is the wonder and meaning in a poem that everyone delights in? It should be easy to understand given that the verses are anywhere from 1 to 5 words each. Even the words themselves sound beautiful so there must be some profound meaning in these disjointed riddles, right?<br />
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Perhaps I am too literal in my attempts to fathom any comprehension at all. But that can't be right. There have been poems that have spoken so loudly to me that my inner being is shaken.<br />
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At the pinnacle of my youth, I discovered a book of poems by my then and still beloved Jim Morrison. I was perusing a used bookstore with a friend of mine who shared in my bygone era infatuation of this deceased musician. Eager to delve into the personal world of his strange and mysterious short life, I waited until late at night when I could be alone with just my thoughts and my book. As I read his poetry, immediately I became frustrated with his words. What was he talking about? Was he on drugs? Well, yes of course he was on drugs, it was the 60's. Still, it didn't make any sense to me. Desperate to make some sort of connection, I closed the book and held it close to me and closed my eyes. I asked the spirits to show me what I needed to know. Then I opened the book and read a canvas of words that finally spoke to me. In fact, those words made so much sense to me that it couldn't have been just chance that I encountered them. It's true, those words of his. They described what happened to me <a href="http://findingthewonderfulintoday.blogspot.com/2009/04/metamorphose_22.html"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">the year I grew wings</span></a>. I read the two poems over and over and pretty much memorized them. I marked the page in the book, copied them down in my journal, then put the book away, forever. Yes, that's right, forever.<br />
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Another time, the passionate love poem, Sonnett XVII by Pablo Neruda, peculiarly found its way to me just as I was in the throes of a <a href="http://findingthewonderfulintoday.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-it-stoned-me-to-my-soul_9.html"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">love affair with the man I would eventually marry</span></a>. I was reading a book of which I do not remember the name, when the author mentioned Pablo's name. Uncharacteristically curious, I looked him up. The first book I found was the 101 Love Sonnets. And you know the story from here. Of course I didn't read the whole thing. I just asked for guidance. The implication of Sonnett XVII was instantaneously clear as Pablo portrayed for me what true love was, in perfect fashion, what I couldn't put into words. As before, I copied the poem down and memorized those heart felt words. I bought Pablo's 101 Love Sonnets but was never again able to attain that same sense of discovery as I had with Sonnett XVII. Sadly Pablo ended up on the bookshelf next to Jim Morrison. Never to be opened again.<br />
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Of course, I've written my own poems*, few and far in between, and usually after a bottle of wine, in which case I would call these 'fermented thoughts'. And these may very well be the only time I can pretend I am ever so slightly poetic.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Philosopher; font-size: 15.199999809265137px; line-height: 16px;"> </span>I suspect that there are certain types of people - those who read, write and enjoy poetry and those who don't. It appears I am the latter, most of the time. I know I missed the boat on this one. Some may be aghast at my remarks and I mean no disrespect. I prefer complete sentences with punctuation and thoughts that don't leave me in conundrums searching for hidden meanings. It has become apparent that if a poem needs to speak to me, it will search me out and it will find me. For now though, I am content to leave the fragmented thought process in the capable hands of our world poets or at the very least on my bookshelf collecting dust.<br />
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* <u>"Poems" I have written but cannot be responsible for:</u></div>
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<i><a href="http://findingthewonderfulintoday.blogspot.com/2009/04/blogging-under-influence_7.html"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>Blogging under the influence</b></span></a></i></div>
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<i><a href="http://findingthewonderfulintoday.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-done.html"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>So Done</b></span></a></i></div>
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<a href="http://findingthewonderfulintoday.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html"><i><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>Super Star</b></span></i></a></div>
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<br />sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-12607707939384069702013-02-22T21:56:00.002-08:002013-03-15T21:31:59.491-07:00Ridin The Crazy Train<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been writing this blog in my head every morning for a few years now. It's time I get this out of my system. Release the rage. Commuters rage, that is. I'd like to take you with me for a moment to the dark side where you will be subjected to the how it feels to commute to work by train five days a week. Granted, I don't live in a huge city by any means. But that doesn't matter. Commuting by train is similar anywhere. So this story could easily be adapted in other geographic locales. Get out your tickets and get ready to ride the crazy train.<br />
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A few years ago I resolved that life was too short to be spent in traffic. My car road rage was getting the better of me, turning me into a crotchety, uptight, profanity flinging, horn honking byatch. A perfectly timed commute could turn into a nightmare behind a slow driver, getting stuck behind a damn biker who appears to think the roads were made only for them, an accident leaving traffic suspended for hours, a broken red light, a bus that must stop to pick up riders every few feet, a bridge up to let a ship pass and whatever other incident could be imagined. No matter, it was always something, every morning.<br />
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It was obvious that I was nearing the point of no return so I turned in my downtown parking pass and proudly purchased an annual train pass. Looking forward to my new commute, I planned to drive a mere 5 minutes to the train station where I would catch the train then sit back and peacefully read my book for 40 minutes. Or so I thought. I had no idea I was stepping from one hell hole to another.<br />
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I'll just give it to you straight. The train does save me money on gas. I can put 10 bucks in my tank and it lasts 2 weeks. That is good. But that is all that is good. Who could have known that the 7:14am train is really the bitch train. Composed of every commuter who has to be to work by 8am, resolved to press on another day, this train contains the worst of the worst. It's crowded so a seat is rare and elbows jabbed in my sides are plentiful. Bodies are compacted against each other so you can view the nose hairs of the person squished up in your personal space. It reeks of coffee breath, perfume, after shave, body odor, farts, and hairspray. You name it, you can smell it. If the train is delayed, then the phones come out in masses, echoing voices inform bosses of impending lateness and the sighs begin. The conductors of these trains are just as ruthless. They slam on the brakes, purposefully I am sure, so that all those standing are shoved into each others personal spaces even more. They send argumentative announcements through the stat-icky speakers reprimanding commuters to get in the train quicker and to press in closer to one another so we can fit more people in. Soon, I could feel my old acidic rage gurgling up my throat like a nasty heartburn. A quick fix to my working hours solved this dilemma. I avoid this train at all costs now. I will not ride it anymore. <br />
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Now my train of preference is the 8:14am train. Just an hour later, this train eases up on the chaos of the earlier trains. It's still pretty packed but most everyone shows a lighter side. Usually there is a seat and if not, one usually opens up right away. The conductor likes to let us know as we cross over the bridge what day and time it is as he gives us the weather forecasts and encourages us to take a break from our books to admire the sun or more often the rain clouds. He informs us if the platforms are slick. He kindly explains delays and apologizes if the train is having technical problems. He wishes us all a wonderful day. I can swallow my rage on this train. Most of the time.<br />
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For it seems that no matter what train I'm on, I am still subjected to the very worst of the human race. The nastiest of which is the cold and flu season. Somewhere along the line, mothers forgot to teach their children cold and flu etiquette. Caught up in the drama of my latest book, I'll be rudely pulled out of my story when my hair blows off my neck by the person behind me who has just begun a phlemy coughing fit. DID YOUR MOTHER NOT TEACH YOU TO COVER YOUR MOUTH WHEN YOU COUGH? What is wrong with these people. Then there's the person next to me who needs to blow their nose but won't. Instead they sniffle back a mucousy bubble every 2.2 seconds. WHAT IS WRONG WITH BLOWING YOUR NOSE? GET A KLEENEX FOR F*** SAKE. Yes, my rage begins to seep through my pores at this point.<br />
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Then there are the crazies. Oh yes, the world wouldn't be complete without the crazies. On my right and two seats down is the chick who can't shut up about how many times she's been in jail and how she's gonna kick Susy's ass when she sees her because she stole her cigarettes, not to mention her baby daddy. Then there's the 13 year old couple making out in the seat in front of me, oblivious to their lip smacking saliva filled kisses and groans. Of course there's always the crazy who gets on the train pissed off at the world who wants to kill us all or convert us because Jesus is coming TODAY!!! Every now and then the guy next to me falls asleep. His head falls on my shoulder as he snores. A swift elbow to the ribs and he lets out a few curses and goes back to sleep but this time not on me. Most often my quip is with the people who seem to think it's ok to talk on their phones. Loudly. I really don't care to hear about your weekend. What really gets me oozing though are those selfish idiots who sit in one seat then fill the seat next to them with their bag. It's rush hour and I'm sorry but your seat is the only one open so move your bag because I"m sitting there.<br />
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It's true, I've learned to tune much of it out. That's what headphones and iTunes were created for right? Plus the world is full of imbeciles and it's really of no use to pay too much attention to them. The goal was to get rid of the rage. And I know it doesn't sound like it but I've pretty much learned to do that. Commuting on the train requires a strength of character. Not a problem here. I can elbow my way through the crowd and beat anyone to the first free seat. And, the 40 minutes each way a day allows me to pretty much consume a book a week, too. Now that's nothing to complain about coming from an avid reader like myself.<br />
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As for train etiquette, I think I have it down. I always use the restroom before boarding the train. I can never predict a 40 minute commute turning into a 2 hour long crawl. I wear deodorant and my fellow passengers should too. Make 'train friends'. These are people with whom you share only your first name, the general vicinity of where you work, what book you are reading now, and of course, the weather. These are also the people who will save you a seat if they get on the train before you or hold the doors if you are running late, and you for them. It's good to have these commuter friendships.They can get you places.<br />
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Viewing humanity from the perspective of a commuter is uncivilized, vulgar and sometimes downright revolting. We are exposed and raw. The best and the worst of our human-ness is depicted in our daily actions as we board and ride the crazy train. I can only wonder what the person next to me has concluded about my character. Must I admit I am one of them?<br />
<br />sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-78132679119098961992013-01-24T20:50:00.002-08:002013-03-07T10:11:39.822-08:00Cave Girl<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ladies and Gentlemen,
cleanse your palettes and get ready to do some taste testing! There's one
wonderful constant in my every single day and that is.....FOOD! You got that
right. I attribute that to being born a Taurus who exhibits an almost stereotypical Taurean love of food. But not just food in and of itself. Home cooked savory, melt
in your mouth, healthy goodness in every bite. Now brace yourself… Due to food
allergies, intolerances and a general demand from my body systems, the gourmet
food of my today is permanently gluten free; mostly dairy free and soy free;
pretty much sugar free; always, always, always certified organic; ideally locally
grown/produced if possible; and ok fine, I'll tell you........... soon to be
95% grain free. That's right. I'm goin Paleo on y'all. The cave girl has
arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What on earth is
Paleo? I heard ya, don't think I can't hear you mumble under your breath. Don’t
get all weird on me now. Trust me, I don’t hold any steadfast beliefs about
what our ancestors ate (which is what the ‘eating paleo’ principles are built
upon) nor do I really care. I respect those who are vegan or vegetarian. And even those who don’t really care what
they put in their mouths. Before I go into details, let’s just say that this is
not a quickly passing fad or a diet of the month. No, this is a lifelong commitment
and it will take whatever form in which my body does its best work. That’s
right, this way of eating has been shown to significantly improve or even cure or
prevent many diseases like ALS, MS, Diabetes, Cancer, Depression, Anxiety, Autism, and Auto-immune
disorders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm going to mix the <span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://www.terrywahls.com/about-Terry-Wahls" target="_blank"><b>Terry Wahls</b></a> </span>diet along with several
different versions of <a href="http://paleodietlifestyle.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: windowtext;"><b>Paleo</b></span></a> to get
just the right proportions to allow for optimal body and mind functions. And
that means saying good bye to the world of grains. Good bye rice. So long
gluten-free oatmeal. Farewell to thee potatoes. Too-dah-loo corn and legumes.
Let it be said that I bid adieu to wheat and barley almost three years and I
don't miss them at all, pretty much because any time I ate them my body reacted
by covering me in a disgustingly itchy blistery rash. However, other grains
became my staples in their absence: especially the rice flour I used for baking
and making gravy to top my pot roasts, and aahhhhh, those fresh organic corn
tortillas. I may mourn for those.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To fill the aching void in my heart
(and stomach), I vow to indulge in 4-5 cups of vegetables per day (pretty easy
to do once you get the hang of it), grass fed/organic meats, hopefully gag down
some organ meats, seaweed (which I get in my raw sauerkraut - a blog post for
another time), munch dark juicy fruits like berries and eat healthy fats like
coconut oil and </span>avocados<span style="font-family: inherit;"> WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!! FOUR TO FIVE CUPS OF VEGETABLES A
DAY?? ARE YOU FREAKIN CRAZY????? Hell no, I'm not crazy and that's actually
where the fun begins. Those vegetables need to be cruciferous in the form of
dark green and leafy; sulfuric vegetables like cauliflower, and brightly
colored vegetables that come in hues of oranges, yellows, maroons and reds. And
baby let me tell you that any vegetable lightly cooked with some garlic makes
me feel like I've died and gone to heaven. Things will not be boring
folks. This cave girl loves Bacon. Everything tastes better with bacon,
especially that luscious thick cut pork from my sister’s organic pig she buys
each year. The other day I cooked the world’s most misunderstood vegetable -
Brussel Sprouts. I love ‘em with all my heart and soul. Just imagine them with
a little pancetta. Oh my.... what a beautiful pairing that made. I think it was
Fran Lebowitz who said: '</span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose
when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I WANT TO DO THIS. In
fact, I've been sorta doing it a little more than half-assed for over a year
now. And that's because I had surgery, have auto-immune issues like food
allergies and my digestive system is sluggish and skeptical about what to do
with the grains I feed it. And of course, like everyone knows... dairy, sugar
and grains interfere with the body's healing process and depress the immune
system allowing for disease. If I'm going to allow my beloved body to heal
completely then by golly I've got to only put in it what will speed that
process along. Plus, I've got to be absolutely sure that I age the way nature
intended and not by the will of corrupt food industry (that is a topic for
another time --- or blog post!). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What will I do with
the other 5% of my dining time? Let’s just say I completely subscribe to
Virginia’s Woolf’s declaration ‘<i>One cannot think well, love well, sleep well,
if one has not dined well</i>’. Yep, you betcha, what’s the fun in life if you can’t
still splurge, in moderation of course, in worldly delights. Luckily, I can.
Although I know some folks whose bodies don’t run that way. I vow to still go out to my favorite pizza parlors
to enjoy a wonderfully mouthwatering gluten-free pizza, perhaps once in a while
I'll treat myself to a Burgerville Tillamook cheeseburger wrapped in lettuce
with sweet potato fries, and I will still of course always, always, always
drink my wine and indulge in appetizing cocktails. Didn't someone’s God say
'Let there be wine'? …Er, uh, maybe that was something else, but I SAID it so I
will make it so! I’ve never been one to commit myself to anything rigid
that allows for no errors or wiggle room.
Just like religion, I take bits and pieces from what I know to build
something that works for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve been desensitized. I’ve felt the negative
effects of my unhealthy food choices. And after a few trial separations, it’s
easier now for me to turn down what used to literally be impossible to resist. It’s an essential part of my Taurean being
that I pamper myself with good eats. I’m just a little wiser about my choices
now. I will post pictures of these
edible paleo delights and share my journey. We won't always talk food here but
since food is many times my wonderful, trust me; it will be discussed from time
to time. After all, as B.W. Richardson said, ‘<i>Preserve and treat food as
you would your body, remember that in time food will be your body</i>’. I know, right? ‘Nuff said.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-41206182828510371242013-01-23T20:57:00.000-08:002013-03-07T10:12:30.156-08:00Remembering the Wonderful<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bolder;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: bolder;">day basis. </span><span style="font-weight: bolder; line-height: 24px;">-Margaret Bonanno</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I asked you right now what the highlights of your year were, would you be able to immediately, with little thought involved, throw out your top 10 in the last 365 days? What about your top 35? Probably not. If you're anything like me, you live day to day, managing appointments and work schedules; maintaining relationships with your husband, children, family and friends; filing taxes; paying bills; getting cars fixed; traveling or having guests stay at your house; dealing with emergency situations, crises or sickness; making grocery lists, shopping, cooking and cleaning; driving kids to and from endless destinations; volunteer work; and oh, did I mention going out and having some fun and then oh yes, that wonderfully delicious thing called thing called sleep? Yea, that is called life and life's busy and it can pass you by. In fact that's what it does. No matter what you do, the clock still ticks, the sun still rises (lucky for us!), and time passes. Eventually, those little high points through out the year that made you smile are buried and eventually hard to recall if not forgotten completely. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I always talk about finding the wonderful in every day and I do work very hard to be sure that I can come up with at least one wonderful thing even during the shittiest of days. That's good and all but I want, no, actually, I <i>need</i> to start remembering the wonderful in my days. Not every day but at least some of them. To achieve this fine goal of mine, I've decorated and labeled a jar where we will write down and date, something good that stood out for us in any given day. Then next December on New Year's Eve, I will sit down with my husband and we'll pull out each tiny sheet of paper and read what is on each one. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can already picture it... a cold brisk December evening where we are sitting at the dining room table, each of us with our choice of cocktail in hand, reading and reminiscing about the year that has just about wrapped up. I have no doubt that some of the things we read will be fresh still in our memories and we'll probably chuckle a little bit as we recount that particular day. What I am most excited about is reading about something that I had completely forgotten about yet it was significant enough that one of us thought to write it down. This is where we'll really take a trip down memory lane, evoking piece by piece the specifics of that noteworthy day. I am even going to set the jar out and offer our visiting/overnight house guests a welcome to donate a bit of their own something good to the jar.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What do I hope to gain from this? I foresee this evening a year from now as an intimate look into the recent past. I don't know, maybe I want a sense of closure to the year, and face it, musing over the recent past is entertaining. More than that though, I want to get a sense of my person, who I was 365 days ago as opposed to who I think I am now 365 days past. And I want to see how those experiences shaped me, changed my perceptions or even perhaps jaded me. I want to see how it impacts my husband and of course, us as a couple to share this with each other, summoning up each story together. Warren and I always have fun together reminiscing anyway. Sometimes we find ourselves at the dinner table long after dinner, polishing off a bottle of wine or laying in bed talking late into the evening topping each other with bygone chronicles of our recollections of a particular event, tales of one of our many cats or dogs, childhood anecdotes, sagas we've lived through and well, you get the picture. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My sister started a jar and one of the first things she put in the jar was her daughter's first steps. Very significant yet in a year, her daughter will have been walking non-stop for many months. The newness will have worn off and as I said before, life is busy. Can't you just picture my sister, a year later, pulling out that piece of paper describing her daughter's first steps? How many emotions will rush through her as she spends a few moments reliving that day and marveling at how fast time flies and how much her kids have grown and changed in just one year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After we have read, reflected and mused over our recent past, I think I'm going to put those pieces of paper into a photo album in order of date - considering that photo albums still exist. I wonder, do they? Or I might scan them and save them electronically, maybe even post them here on my blog. That way our family or descendants or whomever reads them can not only acquire the essence of who we were but maybe even themselves discover the epitome of attaining the wonderful in every day and making that realization an essential part of their lives. Or, knowing me, I might just label the jar and put it up in the attic. Maybe when I'm 80, I'll want to pull it out, fix me up a cocktail and settle in to read the contents of the jar to our grand children, nieces and nephews. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's an experiment in the works and if all goes well, I might just do it again every year. I can't remember who said it but this quote pretty much sums it up: '<i>Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance!</i>'. To me, this jar gives me a reason to do the happy dance on an almost daily basis, whether grudgingly on a low day where I may have to dig a little deeper to find that one good thing or with enthusiasm on an unrivaled superbly wonderful day where that one amazing thing no doubt makes the cut. I will purposefully appreciate these moments that gave me or someone else a glimpse or a blast of happiness. That is what makes life so wonderful, the abundant little good things that blend with the occasional awesomeness that make for a years worth of memories that must be re-hashed. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">There's one thing that I have no doubt of - There's always something good in every day! It's up to me to find it, identify it, notate it - if I so please, and cherish it. I'll never get that day back or get a re-do, and sometimes I am thankful for that depending on what kind of day its been. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ultimately, as I find my wonderful in the days to come this year, I know I am going to feel, live and breathe more in the present than I ever have. And that just might be the first good thing I put in the 2nd jar next year!</span></div>
sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-8069979236650046572012-11-12T14:18:00.002-08:002013-01-23T20:58:39.575-08:00The Dogs Are Alright<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Sometimes finding the wonderful in something terrible awful is a feat to be accompolished only by those with a tough skin. But as many of us are celebrating the 5 year anniversary of the Vick Dog Rescues, I can say without a doubt that this is one giant big happy WONDERFUL!!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wrote the essay below in March of 2011. <u>At the end I have provided a fabulous update!</u> Many links are provided should you want to read more. Please keep in mind, I am not a professional but I have done extensive research. Everyone has a different take on this event and this take is mine, whether you like it or not. Now lets sit back and enjoy the story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">What started it all</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;">Who would have thought that a
horrific event, insanely covered by the media, would be the catalyst that was
to change history for dogs, specifically Pit Bulls raised as fight dogs. I
viewed the PBS Need to Know video aired January 21, 2011 titled ‘Where are the
Michael Vick Dogs Now?’. (Link to video: </span><a href="http://badrap-blog.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-owe-pbs-thanks.html"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">'The Dogs Are Alright'</span></span></b></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;"> ) The video explored the
fates of the dogs seized from Michael Vick's property and it was suggested that
most of the dogs rescued in this case proved they deserved a second
chance. As I viewed who the key players were in the evaluation and
ultimate salvation of these dogs, I was introduced to two key antagonists who
suggested the dogs be put down, in addition to a formerly unknown San Francisco
Bay Area dog rescue who's actions in this case were key to the dogs
survival. </span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">What’s the story anyway</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;">In April of 2007, authorities
busted a Virginia dog fighting ring where 52 dogs were seized off of a property
owned by NFL star football player Michael Vick. Because the case involved
a celebrity, there was a media storm and incredible publicity surrounding the
story. The question that was being voiced the most by the media and the public
was what would happen to the dogs after the case was over? Surely they would be
saved, right?</span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">I want to know more</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;">What events unfolded that
allowed these dogs lives to be saved? Who were the main players and organizations
involved in the evaluation and rescue of these dogs? Who were the
antagonists? What happened to the dogs? Is the public rehabilitation of
the Vick Dogs enough to change the protocol for how all fighting dogs are
handled in a rescue operation involving a dog fighting bust?</span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">Unfolding of Events</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;">According to Jim Gorant, in his
December 24, 2008, now famous </span><a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/magazine/12/22/vick.dogs/"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">Sports Illustrated</span></span></b></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;"> article, Virginia Judge
Henry E Hudson, presiding over the Vick Dog case, and the office of
Assistant Attorney Mike Gill, both received an incredible amount of
letters and emails pouring in from the public demanding to know what was going
to happen to the Vick dogs and insisting that the dogs be saved. Right at
that same time, Donna Reynolds, co-owner of the San Francisco area Bad Rap dog
rescue, sent Mr. Gill a proposal suggesting individual evaluations of each dog
to see if any could be spared. </span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">Main players and evaluation
processed exposed</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;">Protocol in these cases
historically has always been to send the dogs to a shelter where they would sit
as ‘evidence’ while the offender awaited trial. Once the trial was over, no
matter the outcome, the dogs were then euthanized because until this Vick bust happened,
all fighting dogs were deemed killing machines, blood thirsty, and kennel
trash; and therefore unable to be rehabilitated into society as family pets.
</span><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; padding: 0in;">Judge
Hudson acquiesced to the public outcry, appointing Dr. Stephen
Zawistowski, head of the ASPCA, to be put in charge of putting together an
evaluation team for the dogs. The team would be Donna Reynolds and Tim
Racer, co-owners of Bad Rap Dog Rescue + one more Bad Rap member; 2 ASPCA
staffers; and three outside certified animal behaviorists who were not named.
The evaluations would put the dogs in these categories: "euthanize;
sanctuary 2 (needs lifetime care given by trained professionals, with little
chance for adoption); sanctuary 1 (needs a controlled environment, with a
greater possibility of adoption); and foster (must live with experienced dog
owners for a minimum of six months, and after further evaluation adoption is
likely)." Rebecca Huss, an animal law expert at Valparaiso University, was
designated as the person who would decide where each dog would go after being
evaluated.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXldogX4AXzDhht9p2rrtAlkSig_Ke67ECGLMv_u4ZG5EDJYAzPoMAmuk77GrRHVEdJYDqi5-xNLThbcADYTA2o7mgCeU24zgrAH_e7O9JVYqAPCCl8UzBsSZfQ7IyVpFQU1-BZZKzlTf/s1600/doll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXldogX4AXzDhht9p2rrtAlkSig_Ke67ECGLMv_u4ZG5EDJYAzPoMAmuk77GrRHVEdJYDqi5-xNLThbcADYTA2o7mgCeU24zgrAH_e7O9JVYqAPCCl8UzBsSZfQ7IyVpFQU1-BZZKzlTf/s1600/doll.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Vick Dog being temperment
tested by a doll representing a child.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Photo Courtesy of BAD RAP </span><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOU6cdnrl6GNIHsN5KK-xpox5CGwKjjhJmydC_On1_qU2nJag4cqAATfIqCyNU5a8ZC3e6ud17ETjK5kXCbj0uRG5JWbCeRn2zmny-1u2xe-ydjOKRQzvMq-klA9WrpxIUzTtcjTrNrbk/s400/doll.jpg">https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOU6cdnrl6GNIHsN5KK-xpox5CGwKjjhJmydC_On1_qU2nJag4cqAATfIqCyNU5a8ZC3e6ud17ETjK5kXCbj0uRG5JWbCeRn2zmny-1u2xe-ydjOKRQzvMq-klA9WrpxIUzTtcjTrNrbk/s400/doll.jpg</a></span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Dogs personalities are as
varied as humans. During the evaluations, Bad Rap owners said time and again,
it was essential that the dogs were evaluated as individuals. My favorite
quote in all of my research was from Donna Reynolds who said in t</span><a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22844052/l"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">his<b> AP story</b></span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">, after the dogs had been
evaluated: “This is the big secret. Most of them were dog-tolerant to
dog-social. It was completely opposite of what we were led to believe."</span></span><br />
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; padding: 0in;">The antagonists</span></b></span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></b></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">It is mentioned many times in
many articles and videos that PETA (People for Ethical Treatment of Animals) ,
who had <u>not</u> seen or evaluated the dogs, had deemed the Vick
dogs to be “ticking time bombs and should be put down”. Even more
specifically, PETA spokesman Dan Shannon said, "The cruelty they've
suffered is such that they can't lead what anyone who loves dogs would consider
a normal life. We feel it's better that they have their suffering ended once
and for all." </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Even the HSUS (Human Society of
the United States), who also had <u>not</u> seen the dogs, called the
Vick dogs “some of the most aggressively trained pit bulls in the country” and
recommended euthanizing the dogs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">So what happened to the dogs</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">47 of the 52 Vick dogs seized
were saved. Two had to be euthanized at the shelter because one was
deemed too aggressive to be rehabilitated and one dog was too sick having been
overly bred and was suffering physically and mentally. 25 dogs were deemed to
be ready for rescues and ultimately fosters. 13 of those 25 dogs were
given to Bad Rap to take to California. The other 12 were sent to various small
rescues. The remaining 22 dogs were said to be not adoptable but with time and
work a few could possibly be. Those dogs were sent to Best Friends Animal
Sanctuary in Utah where they would continue to be trained in hopes of someday
being adoptable.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_XKX-yOVnHPnwOPN7Bor4SUIqGIxy38C4VvBP8vFv09SHayLzSGktzKoK9PGVGIxMnMq-AG6VE0wYGmJh7y2LlCj-MHNo1gGNqWEUo8dmR27MMDjpKAFvEw5SXmnxyhoU7bVHSGqKNpQ/s1600/cgc+131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_XKX-yOVnHPnwOPN7Bor4SUIqGIxy38C4VvBP8vFv09SHayLzSGktzKoK9PGVGIxMnMq-AG6VE0wYGmJh7y2LlCj-MHNo1gGNqWEUo8dmR27MMDjpKAFvEw5SXmnxyhoU7bVHSGqKNpQ/s1600/cgc+131.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span>
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Vick Dog Grace gets her Good
Canine Citizen's Certificate. Courtesy of Vick Dog Blog: </span><a href="http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-canine-good-citizen.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-canine-good-citizen.html</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Luckily for my research, BAD
RAP, the organization that took 13 of the Vick Dogs, was very vocal in their
rehabilitation process of these dogs. As soon as the gag order was lifted at
the end of January 2008, they started a blog – </span><a href="http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">, that chronicled (and still
does) the journeys of these survivors. After viewing many interviews with Tim
and Donna from Bad Rap, I discovered that all of their Vick dogs have been
placed in foster homes or have been adopted. The dogs are in homes with
other pets and some with children. According to Tim and Donna, their Vick dogs
did not necessarily need to be ‘rehabbed’ but just needed a stable situation
that involved structure, a routine, a warm bed, a lap to lay their heads on to ‘decompress
from their past and to heal from the mental and physical abuse they endured’.
All of the dogs were required to pass their Canine Good Citizens test and to
attend with their fosters or adopters weekly training sessions with Bad
Rap. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdyCPhnV04IyUVwuVo1wb4WX-0FABAyaNgWBN7-HL7fFyzqCvRGjmx7yr18YCNXvggXRsF9C6sNNQKGAJgfMgfUHki9Kn-tNwN0LBWGRbApzrIX3158M-Ek4mMfNQNOq91mpXKCsjO_RH/s1600/DSC_0199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdyCPhnV04IyUVwuVo1wb4WX-0FABAyaNgWBN7-HL7fFyzqCvRGjmx7yr18YCNXvggXRsF9C6sNNQKGAJgfMgfUHki9Kn-tNwN0LBWGRbApzrIX3158M-Ek4mMfNQNOq91mpXKCsjO_RH/s1600/DSC_0199.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Vick Dog Uba and her foster
sister. Photo courtesy of Vick Dog blog: </span><a href="http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html</span></span></a><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Of course the news picked up on
some of these sweet stories of the dogs: Inside Bay Area reported at a </span><a href="http://bayareanewsgroup.com/multimedia/iba/2008/player/?f=pitbull_0125"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">Press Conference</span></span></b></a><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">where the world was introduced
to the dogs; One of the dogs Jonny Justice made a fabulous appearance on
the Rachael Ray Show </span><a href="http://loop7.com/badrap/rescue/video/vick/index.html"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">- LINK</span></span></b></a><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">; </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> The CBS Morning Show
reported on </span><a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=6884146n"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">'The Lost Dogs'</span></span></b></a><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">- a book that tells the stories
of each of the Vick Dogs - with the author Jim Gorant; and Tim
Racer, co-owner of Bad Rap Dog Rescue appeared on </span><a href="http://edition.cnn.com/video/#/video/us/2008/01/25/intv.racer.badrap.dogs.cnn?iref=videosearch"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">CNN</span></span></b></a><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">just after the gag order was
lifted when he could talk freely about the Vick dogs.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKpwNgqkq0XzNb_UEoj2PFQd3rlU1mW1EdPV2VMW1r_WYVVbZjENkk7YjdxX_KYe4Fy8ZZ58TFi2KQNl3Y23YErpHIp6x2SwTPsF4AtbksJ-zMa_9fgG2o43U1AileN8V7xcmg6JQ5ILXV/s1600/ry%253D400.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKpwNgqkq0XzNb_UEoj2PFQd3rlU1mW1EdPV2VMW1r_WYVVbZjENkk7YjdxX_KYe4Fy8ZZ58TFi2KQNl3Y23YErpHIp6x2SwTPsF4AtbksJ-zMa_9fgG2o43U1AileN8V7xcmg6JQ5ILXV/s1600/ry%253D400.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Vick Dog Frodo and Tim Racer,Bad Rap Co-Owner. Courtesy of Vick Dog blog: </span><a href="http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2009-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2010-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=50"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2009-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2010-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=50</span></span></a></span></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgV4Y2UOPP1Slr0u7de1Dmz5XXII0Bl4_UssCg5VVr6DMMHIRzbbwkKWLyTKS2ysTKGetVTeLaWi-JCuS2XzjU2a14ryxzUrz-n-WquUvMn9ZECHBAV7xyPvlNyBY_853qzxZchmtAkDb/s1600/IMG_2870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgV4Y2UOPP1Slr0u7de1Dmz5XXII0Bl4_UssCg5VVr6DMMHIRzbbwkKWLyTKS2ysTKGetVTeLaWi-JCuS2XzjU2a14ryxzUrz-n-WquUvMn9ZECHBAV7xyPvlNyBY_853qzxZchmtAkDb/s1600/IMG_2870.JPG" width="256" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3nAWoYpcaQhRHw0ML4kVctWDqpQw8vIJlGgkZbAb_i2dBDsOcFceoBwA0BvcQ_4JYyZvihqo96iqj1Jx-brUxTr0xVsnym9jwNrRqKZeviKklpH1Fhb4MO2786tufUXGWYMRS79vvjPO/s1600/0000-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3nAWoYpcaQhRHw0ML4kVctWDqpQw8vIJlGgkZbAb_i2dBDsOcFceoBwA0BvcQ_4JYyZvihqo96iqj1Jx-brUxTr0xVsnym9jwNrRqKZeviKklpH1Fhb4MO2786tufUXGWYMRS79vvjPO/s1600/0000-2.jpg" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Left:: Vick Dog Teddles and his
human foster brother. Courtesy of Vick Dog blog: </span><a href="http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html</span></span></a><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Right: Vick Dog Jonny Justice
on the cover of </span><a href="http://www.parade.com/news/2010/08/15-can-you-teach-a-bad-dog-new-tricks.html"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">Parade Magazin</span></span></b></a><b><u><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">e</span></u></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">What about the future of seized
fighting dogs?</span></b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">The story of these dogs is not
a pretty one but given a second chance the journey of these dogs establishes
their worth and their ability to be reintegrated into society as loving family
pets. As the dogs journeys and the court case was documented, public perception
appears to have changed over the course of time. The public generally now
sees the dogs as victims instead of viscous beasts to be destroyed. Many
hauntingly beautiful visual essays and books have been written about the Vick
Dogs. Here are a few examples:</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://badrap-blog.blogspot.com/2010/08/jim-gorant-lost-dogs-our-review.html"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">The Lost Dogs</span></span></b></a></span><b><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">-<b> </b>The book that
brought the Vick dogs to America's living rooms. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Washington Post photo essay by
Pulitzer Prize winning photographer </span><span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/photo/galleries/vickdogs/"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">Carol Guzy</span></span></b></a></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">The world's very first peek of the Vick
dogs that came home with BADRAP -</span><b><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/files/specials/interactives/_national/rescued_dogs/index.html?SITE=NVREN&SECTION=HOME"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">AP PHOTO GALLERY</span></span></b></a></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> </span></b><span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://photobooks.myshopify.com/"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">The Photo Book Project </span></span></b></a></span><b><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">by Melissa
McDaniels. I can tell I am going to have to start saving my money.
Another book I want. This book is all pit bull photographs, convincing
their audience through visual rhetoric, to change their minds about the
pit bull breed. The photographs portray famous pit bull personalities -
the Vick Dogs of course, Oogy - the best story I've read about a puppy
pitbull used as a bait dog that is deformed but found a loving family, and
also some dogs next door. Yep, gonna have to buy this one.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">This special PDF on the four dogs adopted
from BADRAP is a keeper. </span><span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="https://www.box.com/shared/static/8u8dcuodcf25prxxotm6.pdf"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">The Vick Dogs</span></span></b></a></span><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">. </span></b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Wow. A visual and written
rhetoric on the four of the dogs adopted out from Bad Rap. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">According to Jim Gorant, as of
today, PETA's position remains unchanged even though to this day they
have <u>never</u> met any of the Vick dogs. PETA believes that there
are too many dogs in overcrowded shelters that are lacking resources. The
organization says that money should be spent on the spays and neuters of the
shelter animals and on the shelters themselves instead of focusing on fighting
dogs that in their opinion are too risky and not worth the cause.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Author, Dorothy Patent, who
wrote a children's book on one of the Vick Dogs, </span><a href="http://network.bestfriends.org/initiatives/pitbulls/16600/news.aspx"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">Saving Audie</span></span></b></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">, says that this case and how
the dogs were handled set the precedent for how future fighting dogs were dealt
with. Bad Rap co-owner Donna Reynolds said all fighting dogs should
be able to be evaluated and rehabbed, and this case proves they deserve better
and deserve to be evaluated as individuals and to be treated
as individuals.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Dr. Frank McMillan, Director of
Well Being at Best Friends Animal Society says “We know so little about
dogs like these because so few of them have been allowed to live. We’re
learning a lot, but the work still doesn’t permit concrete conclusions. These
dogs really represent the start of these kinds of studies.”</span><b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">My turn</span></b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Back in 2007 while I watched
this case unfold in the media, I was maddened by the initial focus on Michael
Vick and the endless media questions asking how a beloved football star could
do something this awful. As a dog rescuer, I immediately was saddened by what I
knew would be the fate of these seized dogs. Yet what I didn’t realize was the
publicity surrounding Michael Vick would ultimately save the dogs. I am
so overjoyed that this case was made so public because it made the rest of the
world ask – What about the dogs? In addition, the overwhelming public support
of the dogs, enabled the evaluation efforts to happen even under the public
warnings of two of the biggest animal welfare organizations that were against
the rehabilitation of these dogs. Not only that, the public journey of
these dogs recoveries and reintegration into society, has helped these dogs to
be seen as just dogs – dogs in need of a second chance. Dogs that needed
to be looked at and evaluated as individuals instead of just the grouped
stereotype that was ultimately denying them a second chance at life.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I am disappointed with PETA and
HSUS. As large, successful and well known animal welfare organizations, they
could have put their clout to good use by really speaking in defense of these
dogs, thereby really giving some push to help future dog fighting
victims. But they chose not to for reasons that I can’t seem to figure
out. Neither of these organizations met the Vick Dogs and their opinions were
so generalized and stereotypical. Only HSUS changed their opinion later,
though only after Michael Vick began volunteering for them as part of his
sentence.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">Duped</span></b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">As a teenager and young adult,
I always fancied myself an activist, quoting from famous activist organizations
like PETA. I mean, they're the most animal friendly organization around, right?
Even staunch republicans or backwoodsmen would be able to recall a PETA
billboard portraying some animal's rights or a PETA anti-fur campaign
highlighting a celebrity caught wearing fur. As an adult, however, I've learned
to research an organization now before I back it which more often than not,
leads me into the webs of deceipt, lies and corruption of what I once thought
was an organization I should back and support.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">The Center for Consumer Freedom
(CCF) investigates organizations like PETA and HSUS. They have found that
both of these organizations created the myth of Pet Overpopulation in order so
they can justify their high kill shelters and not look for alternatives to
euthanasia. HSUS is basically front and center in creating a shelter system
designed to euthanize. However, to avoid a tangent here, let me just say that
while PETA supported Michael Vick's prosecution, at the same time, PETA was
also in trouble with the law for inhumanely
and needlessly euthanizing homeless animals in a North Carolina court
case. Possibly, these misguided views and deep pockets are what caused these
two organizations to mistakenly and publicly voice their opinions against the
Vick Dogs. This only led folks to become suspicious about their
activities, which in turn led the CCF to investigate both parties and
ultimately discover their cover ups and corruption. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUMom17FPnDJJWZAOLRtcpLgGMdahGg-q-SflwdKARyqmV5gYPhrvx_SSgc10ZMEuW2lkXEK0iQOOC6IT52ETdYyrs-FsAkM5ibujZ3TnMo2j_dB0-QSMsADTqzCxy1f5eovZvqQBLhFD/s1600/peta-kills.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUMom17FPnDJJWZAOLRtcpLgGMdahGg-q-SflwdKARyqmV5gYPhrvx_SSgc10ZMEuW2lkXEK0iQOOC6IT52ETdYyrs-FsAkM5ibujZ3TnMo2j_dB0-QSMsADTqzCxy1f5eovZvqQBLhFD/s1600/peta-kills.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-no-proof: yes; padding: 0in;"></span><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"></span><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /></span>
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">
</span></span></div>
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">PETA is being compared to
Michael Vick as seen well known in this photo here</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 8.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Courtesy of </span><a href="http://thecommonconstitutionalist.wordpress.com/2012/02/29/newsflash-peta-lies/"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 8.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://thecommonconstitutionalist.wordpress.com/2012/02/29/newsflash-peta-lies/</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I even feel the HSUS has done
me (the public) wrong by publicly commenting on the Vick Dogs being vicious
creatures but then turning around and running a fundraising campaign in order
to raise money to care for the Vick Dogs - of which they played no role in
whatsoever. Later, HSUS even took Vick on as a public speaker, publicly defending
him.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I feel somewhat satisfied
however that PETA and HSUS opinions were overruled by public outcry. I am
also amazed by the willingness of small rescue organizations like Bad Rap and
big rescue organizations like ASPCA who came forward and took a very public
chance on these dogs. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: large; padding: 0in;">Epilogue: The Dogs Are Alright</span></b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Even today, as breed profiling
still exists, and many cities across the country and the world pass breed
specific legislation that outlaws the owning of pit bull dogs (and many other
breeds), there remains a bigger hope for these dogs than there was 6 years ago.
Dogs rescued from fighting busts are now largely evaluated and sent to
rescues or sanctuaries though sometimes not without a fight. Just three
months ago, a dog fighting operation was busted in the Richland Parish of
Louisiana. Nine pit bulls and a litter of puppies were seized and ordered to be
euthanized. The Delta Humane Society (DHS) with help from Bad Rap, got the
judges orders overturned and the dogs were then turned over to the DHS who took
it upon themselves to evaluate and get these dogs right into rescues. In fact,
Bad Rap just received three of these dogs (and one today). (</span><a href="http://badrapbarncrew.blogspot.com/2012/02/finally-names-for-new-kids.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://badrapbarncrew.blogspot.com/2012/02/finally-names-for-new-kids.html</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> and </span><a href="http://badrapbarncrew.blogspot.com/2012/02/mystery-novel.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://badrapbarncrew.blogspot.com/2012/02/mystery-novel.html</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> ) </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Not only that, BadRap, took one
of the rescued Louisiana dogs, Tallulah (picture below), this week to UC
Berkeley, to share her story with a group of students studying animal rights.
Interestingly enough, many of the students knew only a tiny bit about the Vick
case and generally agreed they figured that most dogs rescued from fighting
rings would have aggressive personalities. Donna and Tim were able to
tell the Vick Dog stories along with introducing Tallulah, who proved the
rescued fight dog stereotype wrong once again. She amazed the students with her
gentle persona and her willingness to accept love and pets from them. There is
no doubt that her impact on these students will be a positive influence
furthering their studies.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span>
<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBox-sfrY8c5rduKYU-bZuyIbzWlxen2NzefydzKNugMLiTtRwG_grInqLfo_QqmFMmuTXIJ-Ibz5YIftFAzqhfeyIY6ogmQqE0GzGlbj6oolbH46wLgEO71kzei8x65nZFMp7U9SnUb7p/s1600/423631_10150618790117399_1150719667_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBox-sfrY8c5rduKYU-bZuyIbzWlxen2NzefydzKNugMLiTtRwG_grInqLfo_QqmFMmuTXIJ-Ibz5YIftFAzqhfeyIY6ogmQqE0GzGlbj6oolbH46wLgEO71kzei8x65nZFMp7U9SnUb7p/s1600/423631_10150618790117399_1150719667_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #333333; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">TOP: The final survivor from a dog fighting case in rural
Louisiana - Benny! - arrived safe and sound into Oakland and is tail wagging
happy. Heartfelt APPLAUSE to the small but mighty </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Delta-Humane-Society/108897051101"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">The Delta Humane Society</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #333333; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">. Every single dog from this case went to
rescue and their abuser is being brought to justice. This is no small feat for
a community that has no animal control facility orumane investigators. We
salute DHS workhorse Casey Lattimer for insisting on nothing but the very best
outcome from day on</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150618790117399&set=a.109100972398.99670.21764607398&type=1&theater"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150618790117399&set=a.109100972398.99670.21764607398&type=1&theater</span></span></a><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #333333; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">MIDDLE: Catfish Jones and
Miss Tallulah (BOTTOM), both survivors of the recent Louisiana dog fighting
bust. Photo</span><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #333333; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"> courtesy of Bad
Rap: </span><a href="http://badrapbarncrew.blogspot.com/2012/02/finally-names-for-new-kids.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 7.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://badrapbarncrew.blogspot.com/2012/02/finally-names-for-new-kids.html</span></span></a><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #333333; padding: 0in;">Final Thoughts</span></b><span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #333333; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I've spared you, the reader,
the horrific details surrounding the Michael Vick case because I know you are
capable of finding that information if need be. Sometimes to be sure you see
things in a well rounded way, educating yourself on the not so pretty details
is necessary. I urge my readers to be sure they understand what these dogs go
through if only to broaden your views in understanding how hard it is for folks
to truly believe and insist these dogs get a second chance. It would be
possible and perhaps easy to believe that no dog would be able to overcome
those horrific circumstances to which it had been subjected to. But dogs
are amazing creatures in their ability to rebound, to let go of the past and to
trust again, all of which are part of the reason most of them can
be reintegrated into society. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Ghandi once said that a society
can be judged by the way it treats its animals. We as a society then have
a long ways to go. But because of the Michael Vick case and many of the
subsequent similar dog fighting cases after that, we have proved that these
dogs do deserve a second chance. The Vick(tory) dogs - as they are now
called, shows how a small group of humans along with public outcry can
instrumentally overpower the 'powers that be' and can begin to open hearts
and change the history for all fighting dogs.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuVE2j9WvsYYDvGKJa-j6hJpA0M4Ajbcgu1odSVpE06YyAbjbExv-w2ZsaiX1xsZPMHWVhVNKZBtvmTOvt6Y5GPUknYrlKPr7n4xTPhqUY7wOfuQmvru7wRR40yKqAOTBASHDC0m7HLjsz/s1600/IMG_0765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuVE2j9WvsYYDvGKJa-j6hJpA0M4Ajbcgu1odSVpE06YyAbjbExv-w2ZsaiX1xsZPMHWVhVNKZBtvmTOvt6Y5GPUknYrlKPr7n4xTPhqUY7wOfuQmvru7wRR40yKqAOTBASHDC0m7HLjsz/s1600/IMG_0765.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 8.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Happy Uba - formally a Vick Dog
courtesty of </span><a href="http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/bouncy-uba-is-back.html"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-size: 8.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: blue;">http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/bouncy-uba-is-back.html</span></span></a><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">*Update November 2012<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Near the 5<sup>th</sup> anniversary
of the Vick Dogs Rescue, many of the Vick Dogs joined their rescuers and
forever families at the Bad Rap Barn for an emotional, happy reunion.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EBhVbKmTU3l6wJduWC_fBWyzdESfkrxosngoN4rgF9ZWh0KGrmTSeivBGCx5o3Mc3omVEijI7ribbfYtBwJK_3xuuc7ZlQHZ6XN7P8x8N3xD1jxJ2ldVjGt5TN9vNSp3BK0nrypnKxca/s1600/Untitled1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EBhVbKmTU3l6wJduWC_fBWyzdESfkrxosngoN4rgF9ZWh0KGrmTSeivBGCx5o3Mc3omVEijI7ribbfYtBwJK_3xuuc7ZlQHZ6XN7P8x8N3xD1jxJ2ldVjGt5TN9vNSp3BK0nrypnKxca/s1600/Untitled1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Vick Dog rescue 5 year reunion.
Photo courtesy of </span><a href="http://www.badrap.org/five-years-later"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">http://www.badrap.org/five-years-later</span></a><span style="font-size: large;">
Read the details of what each Vic(tory) dog is doing now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-15263504205801952082012-06-08T21:05:00.001-07:002013-03-07T10:19:24.382-08:00My Name is Sass and I will not be defined by one thing, but an everlasting list of things<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">On days when I am feeling like everything is too much and I am not sure where I belong, who I am, why I am, I say to myself…. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.4; text-align: center;">My name is Sass, I am 41 years old, my home is where my heart is – it is small, cozy, comfortable, full of dog hair and lushly landscaped like a forest. I live with my wonderful, loving, sexy, big hearted husband of whom I adore and my three </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.4; text-align: center;">(and sometimes four)</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.4; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.4; text-align: center;">crazy dogs and a big fat talkative cat, in a pacific northwest town not too far from the beach. We live for our happy hours together every single Friday where we reconnect after a long work week over strong drinks and bar food. I have a son who has a heart of gold, strong politicos, and an arsenal of guns, also of whom I adore. I have three sisters and a mom and dad – all who I see often and all of whom I cherish. I am proud to have eastern band Cherokee and white man redneck in my blood. I am blessed to have the best inlaws and brother n sister n laws ever. I come from a good family with cousins, aunts and uncles from all different walks of life. I can count my good friends on one hand. I have a self sustaining, self fertilizing, self watering organic garden. I will share with you anything I own. Everything I own has been gifted, found, rummaged, donated, refurbished or purchased gently used. Although I may ‘play the game’ to get what I need like a decent job, a paycheck and a roof over my head, I believe only in the laws of nature and in the world of spirits, rejecting anything superficial. I may own my house but I do not believe in owning land. I believe a good buzz can be good for the soul and that grapes should be eaten only as wine. I find pleasure in reading a book a week and then passing it on. Consuming delectable, fantastically prepared food turns me on and an epicurean dessert could make me climax. And there is nothing better than a good cry or a hearty long laugh that comes deep from within the belly.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">THAT IS ME. AND I LIKE ME. Some times its just saying the simple things and remembering to not let all the complicated stuff define me. I focus on the stables in my life because everything else is so changeable, shallow, unforgiving and detrimental to the soul. This mantra provides me with a sense of normality, although normality is something I am never able to reach, I don't fit into a box. I don’t fit into society’s expectations for me.<br /><br />Have you ever wondered where you belong? The answer is in your loved ones arms, with a few simple stables. Stop trying to define yourself, stop trying to be so keen to fit in and belong. Yes, it's true that we as human beings need to connect to people with similar experiences and mind sets but this isn't us full stop. One part of me doesn't define me. I am so much more and so are you. Because really you can be who ever you want to be. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1aPG9uzbXVwwdrSu28Fj459gh6GjzTXanuTuVOu371Xbkst49N0vF0IUBXqZtfk6_dHsEON34lekTVAbpVKR9MVsNs0vaSMs0KgK_sno3QMuCwXa5m7sD2Pzo9pB2d9DxJfLih1fiXs/s1600/lil+red+ridin+hood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1aPG9uzbXVwwdrSu28Fj459gh6GjzTXanuTuVOu371Xbkst49N0vF0IUBXqZtfk6_dHsEON34lekTVAbpVKR9MVsNs0vaSMs0KgK_sno3QMuCwXa5m7sD2Pzo9pB2d9DxJfLih1fiXs/s320/lil+red+ridin+hood.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-53066941444476004262012-04-10T16:53:00.001-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.468-07:00Get your Ginger on<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqAwnqnfi-RD3QOvslFMDMT1LLgKzeRt3zwytwDVoFxDk75cVIZFyiLBKpWcqJdlQebdW1APO_JWXBwbQi_3PnFTmmqflOqyxNip30dBPRhZ6T7LRMbjV8mMgzmM-sdGPEBcOBih3L2Q/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqAwnqnfi-RD3QOvslFMDMT1LLgKzeRt3zwytwDVoFxDk75cVIZFyiLBKpWcqJdlQebdW1APO_JWXBwbQi_3PnFTmmqflOqyxNip30dBPRhZ6T7LRMbjV8mMgzmM-sdGPEBcOBih3L2Q/s320/photo+1.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="color: black;"><span style="color: #222222; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><span style="color: #222222; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit;">My wonderful lately has been found in making my own as opposed to buying it. In the last few weeks my focus has been on my homemade ginger ale. Oh so refreshing and so good for you. It's really very simple to make. It costs less and it's much better for you. Plus, I don't count regular ginger ale soda as real food. It's stuffed full of unrecognizable ingredients and packed with preservatives. There is one ginger ale on the market that's pretty good - Reeds. But it's so dang sweet it makes me feel ill after just a couple of swigs. And before we get started, let me just give an BIG thank you to my sister Barb for getting me hooked on this one!</span><br /><span style="color: #222222; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">To make my ginger ale, you only need one ingredient - Ginger and of course, access to fresh filtered water. Plus, if you make it yourself, you can control the sugar content, or lack there of. And you don't have to use this just for ginger ale. It's great to keep in the freezer and pull out when you need a bit of hot tea to settle an upset stomach or nausea. It will also stimulate your digestive system, if you know what I mean and helps alleviate arthritis pain. Of course, the concentrate could also make a mean martini! </span><br /><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Here's the simplest recipe of your entire life:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><strong>Ingredients:</strong></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2 large Ginger Roots</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">8 cups filtered water</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 lemon (optional)</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><strong>To make the ginger concentrate:</strong></div><div style="text-align: center;">Remove the skin, use a knife to cut off the pointed edges then peel the skin off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX02DGufQI7v9GduKCx-XCH2eu94XpJUjxkCLQM47V8N54UCp3prUdAGjoUoCqycnElQ1llv_tKEg7j4DIclVMf7EnSWPHro83Fg8KpUURTBPOOXHNzUPV3noZOMUIx2Eyfg2p5JE6HJQ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX02DGufQI7v9GduKCx-XCH2eu94XpJUjxkCLQM47V8N54UCp3prUdAGjoUoCqycnElQ1llv_tKEg7j4DIclVMf7EnSWPHro83Fg8KpUURTBPOOXHNzUPV3noZOMUIx2Eyfg2p5JE6HJQ/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="239" /></a></div></div><div style="color: black;"><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222;">Grate the peeled ginger</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqk8dGtSDEcgi0CXVzzwtMn4mvByoXahz3d3Yeysi72vn4xPYj21Or0faWLZtBCr-ka_ZGGgPJy1vK537-lvAmO2iqy7JuEOWZjPO5SFQUSCL0mISdO31tmGuddkBXKQ76nkR9Ph-FxY/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqk8dGtSDEcgi0CXVzzwtMn4mvByoXahz3d3Yeysi72vn4xPYj21Or0faWLZtBCr-ka_ZGGgPJy1vK537-lvAmO2iqy7JuEOWZjPO5SFQUSCL0mISdO31tmGuddkBXKQ76nkR9Ph-FxY/s320/photo+3.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: black;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Put the peeled ginger into a sauce pan and add 8 cups filtered water.</span></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bring the water to a boil, then immediately turn down to a nice simmer.</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Simmer for 1 hour and stir occasionally.</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Add the juice of one lemon when done simmering.</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"></div><div style="color: #222222;"></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2A2KEC_iyjkpfUgp4N6QKEu_PFWwAy1IjKQhDgrVlwhBd1v5yiZ0AmCC4rLEIxdMb6dyjPsbhV-PB9g37FuJnhInNN38Icpwu956woBNLyNt8eQg19dmDqDylXcH5E8oNkIAL1NF6IQ/s1600/photo+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2A2KEC_iyjkpfUgp4N6QKEu_PFWwAy1IjKQhDgrVlwhBd1v5yiZ0AmCC4rLEIxdMb6dyjPsbhV-PB9g37FuJnhInNN38Icpwu956woBNLyNt8eQg19dmDqDylXcH5E8oNkIAL1NF6IQ/s320/photo+4.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Pour through a strainer and press on pulp to get remaining liquid out.</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Strain one more time.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Put in glass or plastic jars, label and freeze.</div><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTgujl5uTD_wJATAvEhwavnNhWCTJfTv4XOaHZhJn9dICk84SnKxpWsCyvJeqbOlsjrVvjYNKG7VgqfsNIyqNKtg8Xwd8uvxZStWshrN6pshGfT1r2e9jCS0F7YpPwo0oVAzwGOL_6kY/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTgujl5uTD_wJATAvEhwavnNhWCTJfTv4XOaHZhJn9dICk84SnKxpWsCyvJeqbOlsjrVvjYNKG7VgqfsNIyqNKtg8Xwd8uvxZStWshrN6pshGfT1r2e9jCS0F7YpPwo0oVAzwGOL_6kY/s320/photo+1.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><br /></strong><br /><strong>To make a ginger ale:</strong></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You'll need to experiment here to find your preferred taste for this drink.</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Add 2-6 TBSP of ginger concentrate to a tall glass. Like I said before, it's all in the taste preferences of the beholder. Start conservative then add more to taste.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"></div><div style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Add 4-6 drops liquid Stevia (be sure you buy real Stevia and not the chemically manufactured version of it)</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">OR you can add a bit of sugar water but the whole point is to get away from the sugar right? In fact, I'm at the point now, where I don't even like an sweetener in mine.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Add ice and f</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ill the rest of the glass with your favorite selzter/soda water.</span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Stir and then sit back and start sipping. You'll be amazed at how refreshing it is, not to mention addicting. But at least it's good for you, right?</span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzogUGpKEvtQM9pELcq6V_7iorYdKIiYNqcsfjAT6uOxY3hdtJLnue_ZzVEwHs8pYcT3HJQrLKKuhPOiXLTD76pZWfqj7Y8sbrC927686AH2Dof4s94-S1ghIbJ0AK76V8SECWma_KLY/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzogUGpKEvtQM9pELcq6V_7iorYdKIiYNqcsfjAT6uOxY3hdtJLnue_ZzVEwHs8pYcT3HJQrLKKuhPOiXLTD76pZWfqj7Y8sbrC927686AH2Dof4s94-S1ghIbJ0AK76V8SECWma_KLY/s320/photo+5.JPG" width="239" /></a></div></div><div style="color: #222222;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cheers!</span></div></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #222222; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></div></div></div></div>sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-50995332067362499022012-03-25T21:01:00.001-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.465-07:00Dirt Lover<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="background-color: #e5e5dd; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;">In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt. </span></i><br /><i><span style="background-color: #e5e5dd; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;">~Margaret Atwood</span></i><br /><i><span style="background-color: #e5e5dd; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Two days after Spring arrived, it snowed. We awoke to a light dusting really, maybe a couple of inches. By late afternoon the same day, if just arriving on the scene, you'd never have guessed it had snowed. All evidence erased and with it my hope for Spring. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcnkuHb7hFOgoISAHkz8w9oYPyymDOA4cSECnH38FDDEsgjgwXJY0QNQcD8bKXgfZ5uaUDcc2_orWPfO_465-vtNf-B9gs9xJnjQEcwHqD3J6b0AfZFCOwg5QfEt2aFltzYermGvtpkw/s1600/hands+in+the+dirt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcnkuHb7hFOgoISAHkz8w9oYPyymDOA4cSECnH38FDDEsgjgwXJY0QNQcD8bKXgfZ5uaUDcc2_orWPfO_465-vtNf-B9gs9xJnjQEcwHqD3J6b0AfZFCOwg5QfEt2aFltzYermGvtpkw/s320/hands+in+the+dirt.JPG" width="238" /></a>Now I sit here, one day later, basking in the warm Spring sun. My body has forgotten how intoxicating it can be to have the warmth of the suns rays penetrate my deprived translucent winter skin. I'm drunk with the sun's kiss, stoned to the soul. I could fall in to eternal bliss right here.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">But there's something about the first bona fide spring day that snaps me to my senses. Dirt. I need to get my hands into the dirt. An hour later, I've dug out a bush that did not survive last summer's heat. And into the newly bare earth, I transplanted another bush that had outgrown it's previous locale. Standing back to admire my work, I dusted the dirt from my hands and smiled lovingly at the soil now caked in between my nails. Garden gloves are standard protocol but today, I claimed to not recall where I stored my gloves as winter arrived so many months back.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Nin-pE9_b4ZBAPuVmJOJw1KAUKhwoxd2u0eyd2mAOCswoBwAR0G6vJ5u_q0JzFBe7xUKdmYUQNyY1Z1sAmokHKd2joisChPOgxFU9AcUhaJwF7yLZfhfpk5PvwFiYsGCtgDMyTU4UEI/s1600/sun+in+the+rain+clouds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Nin-pE9_b4ZBAPuVmJOJw1KAUKhwoxd2u0eyd2mAOCswoBwAR0G6vJ5u_q0JzFBe7xUKdmYUQNyY1Z1sAmokHKd2joisChPOgxFU9AcUhaJwF7yLZfhfpk5PvwFiYsGCtgDMyTU4UEI/s320/sun+in+the+rain+clouds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Later, a cool chill drew goose bumps on my skin, I bid the sun goodbye as it retreated behind the clouds rolling in. Tomorrow it will rain, as it will the next day and the day after that, all the way through the rest of the week and on through the following weekend. I'm ok with that. The sun was my wonderful in today. It's brief visit will sustain me for a little longer as I glimpse winter's strength waning, it's presence fading a tiny bit with each day. And tonight I will slumber with the aroma of Spring lulling me into a contented sleep.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-52580463231007470162012-03-21T15:18:00.001-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.466-07:00Happiness Is My Pillow<div style="text-align: center;"><i>In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesn't merely try to train him to be semi human. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog. ~Edward Hoagland</i></div><br />I've often marveled at our dogs abilities to deem the couch and our bed as their preferred places to sleep. They will spend ten minutes building a nest among our covers, destroying the blankets and flinging the couch covers, until a suitable pile has been formed on which they will plop themselves down upon it and be asleep immediately.<br /><br />One of our dogs has become quite taken with a chair pillow from our garage. If we leave the door to the garage open, he sneaks out there, grabs the pillow, brings it inside and places it wherever he thinks is most comfortable.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKq-b9k21k2SI4gRVTS-My8D6GwyfKUOHR7EmUn3JFulpQAugIrMskeD0BGTZ13L_c5iY97TgCggNXPIzlv9KUhGCZGS5VAnMBam-bLPDBqicrZ4tSs8lemVlZRXmqs4zTm6cN19oY39Y/s1600/sprawled+out+on+floor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKq-b9k21k2SI4gRVTS-My8D6GwyfKUOHR7EmUn3JFulpQAugIrMskeD0BGTZ13L_c5iY97TgCggNXPIzlv9KUhGCZGS5VAnMBam-bLPDBqicrZ4tSs8lemVlZRXmqs4zTm6cN19oY39Y/s320/sprawled+out+on+floor.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes he prefers the floor</span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Wte031NaDKuP1m0ab7t0ESKnmln0X08ZaeeO9ivTquWHRT_kYQZxJLIhdVPwwq-yooCI2Q6nDPIiFSq3LuwK5VHXfwQrEcpnUaJ_qUYB4oQx8tUOpAaFiAzhZqo72szu5Z5TUxUE5QU/s320/sleepin+on+floor.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" separator"="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnuE-a_sfReFr-uizWRQuaB31p5d9G5q7bCZHmAUqB4BNwRFo8t9x2yWeA6zWaplo6RL1k1N9tKYj5nk-TNStwxLpb6lS1g8GspExcml6iU_9zzOPy3vc1rT57t4wNWByD7q-fOpDP7s/s320/sleeping+on+%3Cdiv%20class=" style="clear: both; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Other times the table will do just fine.</span> </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnuE-a_sfReFr-uizWRQuaB31p5d9G5q7bCZHmAUqB4BNwRFo8t9x2yWeA6zWaplo6RL1k1N9tKYj5nk-TNStwxLpb6lS1g8GspExcml6iU_9zzOPy3vc1rT57t4wNWByD7q-fOpDP7s/s1600/sleeping+on+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA59zdbYplmZ0MIfk6YFeUHhiZ3jHjQKp4-ghMDUsXgPfRwrZG_48l7dE1E4rwNAybGves5EB9fNYUEfdRQne96IhXo7T9nQF7z9LGqWWXbqw5H3lQ5emcXug751BwaUgPXS0udbWt1pU/s1600/sleeping+on+pillow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA59zdbYplmZ0MIfk6YFeUHhiZ3jHjQKp4-ghMDUsXgPfRwrZG_48l7dE1E4rwNAybGves5EB9fNYUEfdRQne96IhXo7T9nQF7z9LGqWWXbqw5H3lQ5emcXug751BwaUgPXS0udbWt1pU/s320/sleeping+on+pillow.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: large;">Usually though the couch works best.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2s1zG7TLAEbhb8LMzBnndMiYErKanCsbVQrX3pnLkF9bZZAWWeR2sX9XnHHe8Vs0g4whUrPdgYqJ_2FMxiBe7ba_al94rVcJ5Zn-1h1NI4Tyex1C_paJOmtSTHmPv3nHClpqVke_21U/s1600/crashed+out+with+pillow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2s1zG7TLAEbhb8LMzBnndMiYErKanCsbVQrX3pnLkF9bZZAWWeR2sX9XnHHe8Vs0g4whUrPdgYqJ_2FMxiBe7ba_al94rVcJ5Zn-1h1NI4Tyex1C_paJOmtSTHmPv3nHClpqVke_21U/s320/crashed+out+with+pillow.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA59zdbYplmZ0MIfk6YFeUHhiZ3jHjQKp4-ghMDUsXgPfRwrZG_48l7dE1E4rwNAybGves5EB9fNYUEfdRQne96IhXo7T9nQF7z9LGqWWXbqw5H3lQ5emcXug751BwaUgPXS0udbWt1pU/s1600/sleeping+on+pillow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNxwXCoIvCMTdWSRL_IkvUw67JcOkpxI86yGfwyQ-t-4S2nWiDlnWeLuwtfeWCdvAps8E8lXYKUnha0SmqoI8WvoWlaC9RzOgrtRFG-fiOW0jfbFMeQAMLEUZJ1Rv3UC1u7RTYoWAKRo/s1600/proud+with+pillow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNxwXCoIvCMTdWSRL_IkvUw67JcOkpxI86yGfwyQ-t-4S2nWiDlnWeLuwtfeWCdvAps8E8lXYKUnha0SmqoI8WvoWlaC9RzOgrtRFG-fiOW0jfbFMeQAMLEUZJ1Rv3UC1u7RTYoWAKRo/s320/proud+with+pillow.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Sometimes posing with the pillow is fun too.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhWP7SJBK3rdZQxK_OhXLwvv13-NVpAJsN3foTqVirPJVO4RoqM7wk4CNrePXm5gqJRTVOIQfUmGGw581t7xioy3gvGxpf8BKjK692vHlF37T3jThLZQVy0Q5AtKKpG4rvLlD5UdqIsw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhWP7SJBK3rdZQxK_OhXLwvv13-NVpAJsN3foTqVirPJVO4RoqM7wk4CNrePXm5gqJRTVOIQfUmGGw581t7xioy3gvGxpf8BKjK692vHlF37T3jThLZQVy0Q5AtKKpG4rvLlD5UdqIsw/s320/photo.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> I've stopped trying to figure this out. He must have his reasons.<br /><br />sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-72567789407534609792012-03-17T22:54:00.001-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.485-07:00Things you should know<i>Be at peace and see a clear pattern running through your life. Nothing is by chance.</i><br /><br /><br />There's some things you should know. I'm all over the place but then again, maybe not. My focus in life is clear. My fervor well anchored and acted upon. Though, on an given day, one of my passions may stand out, my emotional state emphasized. The world will take me by surprise. Disappointment may be an unwelcome guest. Frustration may cross my path. Overwhelming sadness may take up residence, albeit temporary, as it's never allowed to stay long. Uninhibited happiness may rush over me like a rapidly overflowing river whose sandy banks cannot hold back the rush of water. You name it, it has visited. That's what makes my life a crazy pot-marked emotional response to all that goes on around me and in whatever I encounter as I ride the waves of life. I will take a hold of it. Feel it. Turn it around and around and examine it. If it fits, I will put it in my pocket with other life experiences. If it is not my thing, I will let it go. Whether they are treasures, bewildering puzzles or wrotten piles of steaming shit; they each take to me like a sculptor, shaping me like clay, molding me into who I am, who I am becoming, who I will be. <br /><br />It's true, although I choose with each encounter how I will motivate my self and figure out the conundrums, my response time will vary. It may appear as if I am stuck, suspended in time on a particular issue; or I may revisit it from time to time. Such is my journey in life and one that I have come to take in stride and most of the time embrace. <br /><br />I was meant to go through the first half of my life conducting it in such a way that one would tend to think of as stumbling onto difficulties and misjudgments. But although it wasn't clear in the beginning, those steps were helping to part the clouds of confusion, assisting me in charting out my life path, whittling away at my vague form. The second half of my life, now, I am emerging with a distinct edge, with an almost qualified inner truth and harmony. I can find my way more quickly back to my center, although I still get lost from time to time in the melodrama and the ever moving pendulum of my moods. I will say this again. This is the second half of my life. The feeling is new, almost honeymoon-like. My stride is not without reserve but I walk with a more confident gait.<br /><br />Preparation is key if you are going along for the ride. Then again, you may follow with wild abandon. The revelations may stun, render you speechless, make the hair on your arms stand up, tug on your heart strings, give you sensations and awarenesses previously mysterious. I could never provide an agenda because that's the thing with life, with my one wild and crazy life, I never know what is around the bend. This time though, I'm a little more prepared, a little more of an expert. This is the chapter where I build my connections to the universe, open the channels to the spirit world and experience the tilt a whirl of life with skilled practice, well almost, but close enough. These are the things you should know.sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-32667456543645587412012-01-05T14:06:00.001-08:002012-10-29T15:49:24.451-07:00New beginnings and closing creditsMuch has happened in the past 8 months since we last spoke.... <br /><br />To recap, in April, I was heading for the beach. But what I didn't tell you was that I was going to be meeting my son that I gave up for adoption 22 years ago. I haven't yet found my words for the story of that weekend yet but I can tell you this, my heart is light once again and my life has taken on a whole new meaning. <br /><br />Once summer arrived, my keyhole garden was in full bloom. Cherry red tomatoes took over once I had harvest three rounds of lettuces and kale. Eventually, I harvested my garlic and a few small onions. As the summer progressed, I found myself with a lighter shade of brown hair filled with golden sun bleached highlights and a fabulous tan. <br /><br />Just before fall settled in, my sugar and i took the dogs to the beach for a week where we took long leisurely strolls on the sand, shopped daily in town for our food, took mid day naps and cooked outrageous dinners. <br /><br />With the rainy season upon us, we took it in stride that our Blazer season would be in hiatus due to the NBA strike. Instead, we focused on football with our fingers crossed behind our backs. As luck would have it, on christmas day, our season commenced. Christmas this year was extra special. My parents flew into town to enjoy the first christmas with our whole family together in one place in 15 years! <br /><br />We rang in the new year with family and close friends with glasses of black cherry champagne, homemade cheese dip, and pulled pork sandwiches. <br /><br />This new year appears to be all about new beginnings and new found wisdoms. Which brings me to my closing credits... It's time to move on. Obviously, I haven't written a thing since April. But of course, that doesn't mean I've forgotten about you. Indeed not. You've been on my mind. <br /><br />A change of scenery is in order. A new focus. I guess that's what happens to writers sometimes. Some call it writers block. I call it following the course of my life; rolling with the changes, and being ammenable to switching gears. I'm going to be writing you from a different perspective. Me and my words will be making a new appearance on this blog. I hope you will join me. It's sure to be a fun ride as I let it all hang out while exploring the wonders in life. It's truly been real. May this year be full of blessings and may you always honor the divinity within your self and others. <br />Warmly,<br />Sasssasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-16355903258138409762011-04-13T21:54:00.000-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.443-07:00Packing TransgressionsEveryone has their own special methods to prepare for a trip away from home. It seems that half the fun of going on a trip, is planning that trip. Especially in our family. Especially when it is a family trip. <br /><br /><br />Back in the deep dark depths of winter, it came upon me one chilly wintry night, that it was time for a family get together. A trip of some sort. So where to go this year and when? Then I got to thinking. I am the proud owner of one of the rare spring birthdays in our family and this year is going to be a big one. The big 4-0. What better way to spend my birthday than with family. Before proposing it to everyone, I had to have not only a date but also a location and lodging details. With our ever burgeoning families, we were going to need some serious space. Unbelievably, I found a giant beach house that would provide not only a bed, but a room for each couple, complete with a kitchen, game room, beach trail, wireless, laundry and all that. <br /><br />Now that I had all my details in place, it was time to alert the family to see if they were game. Of course they all were. And this is where the fun begins. Since the actual date of our supposed trip is 4 months into the future, we have plenty of time to discuss and prepare. And although we use the phone a bit in our preparations, most of it is done by emails, long email trails consisting of our humorous and outlandish and inspirational ideas for our retreat. Late night calls will no doubt follow as the date of departure draws near, excited whisperings of plots, plans and ideas hatched while envisioning our weekend away.<br /><br />One of the most important aspects to any of our trips lies along the lines of food. What are we going to eat? We are a family where food revolves around everything we do, especially family gatherings. In our every day lives, most of us are lucky if we eat one full meal a day and snack through the rest. But for retreat planning, we pay special attention to being sure we have a delectable menu item for each of the days required meal times: breakfast, lunch and dinner. Usually we split up our meals between couples, letting snackers and picky eaters fend for themselves. <br /><br />Once the food is planned, there is of course another important characteristic to our planning. What will we drink? And I'm not talking milk or juice. What I am getting at is we are a family who value our together time by hydrating ourselves with our specialty alcoholic beverages. And of course, we all have our preferences. Vodka with blue cheese olives. Screamers. Chocolate Martinis. Wine. Gluten Free Beer. Locally brewed beer. Holiday beer. Whiskey and coke. And so on. There is much to plan as we all check our liquor cabinet reserves and wine cellars and we make lists to run stock up before the trip. <br /><br /><br />Laughably, with this particular trip, there is actually a bedroom for all. But then another string of emails begin, calculating very carefully where everyone should sleep. Or should I say, where everyone would prefer to sleep. All without trying to really say where they want to sleep. Those who seem to think they have toilet issues, believe they should have the master suite with the full bath. Those with kids who sleep lightly believe they should have the farthest bedroom from the late night noise guaranteed to occur. Others want the bedroom with the door that goes out to the deck or the bedroom that faces the ocean with the hot tub inside. With all our spoken preferences, nothing will be for sure until we arrive to our rented house. And there will always be many switches and bargaining going on. Pssst, I'll give you my bottle of wine and put your kids to bed for that room with a full bath!<br /><br /><br />My family will continue the planning until the moment we all actually arrive at the beach house, yet here's where it gets interesting. Or should I say even more intriguing. We all have our funny little quirks about how we individually prepare to pack for the trip. Some of it could be nature, some could be nuture. Either way, we are all a little nuts about it. <br /><br /><br />We'll start with myself. If I have weeks to plan or months which is even better, I will organize the shit out of my plans. There will be of course first the budget spreadsheets. How much to save each month. Then the reservations come next - rental car, dog sitter, cat sitter. All those go into my newly created trip spreadsheet. On another tab of my spreadsheet is what to pack, then what to buy for food, what to do a week before the trip, two days before, the day of. Then important dates go on my electronic calendar. As the months, weeks and days pass, I will be checking off my list to do, memorizing everything. I believe this may have been inherited from my dad whose spreadsheets and lists littered countertops before every childhood camping trip. And I suppose this is still how he prepares for trips. My mother is one who plans the meals, prepping, cooking, storing, shopping; ensuring there are snacks for the drive, snacks when we arrive, snacks for any time of the day and drinks to go along with all. My husband packs 10 minutes before we walk out the door. Well, I would too if my significant other had everything else organized the way I do. Geeesh!<br /><br /><br />One sister has a very special ritual for packing. Not much thought is put into packing until the night before the trip, at which time, they buy a bunch of beer and pizza. They get drunk and pack and then go to bed early (or at least they try to). It seems to work for them except for the minor hangover the next day.<br /><br /><br />Another sister makes mental notes along with paper notes. She makes numerous lists, checks the weather forecasts obsessively and researches nearby restaurants. I would too if I had three kids, two of whom have definite allergies to specific foods and no one wants to leave home without items essential to providing young children with enough to do and enough changes of clothes to match the changes in weather, especially this time of year.<br /><br /><br />My other sister will most likely fly by the seat of her pants due to her busy schedule and never ending motherly duties. She'll crack open a bottle of wine late in the evening after the kids are in bed. Then she'll talk on the phone while she throws her listed items into bags, does last minute loads of laundry. She'll stay up way too late and then scramble in the morning, racking her brain about what it was that she was going to bring. She'll most likely pull out of the driveway with her coat stuck in the car door, a kid screaming because he was buckled up in the carseat backwards and it will be only luck that every family member will be accounted for.<br /><br /><br />Somehow we will all make it to our destination. Somehow we will make do with what we have packed and laugh at what we have forgotten. We'll get lost in the joy and chaos of all being together and none of our packing transgressions will matter anymore. sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-85146623738681787962011-04-06T21:54:00.000-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.494-07:00Memories of Another Way of BeingI have always had a true deep down gut feeling that I chose to be born at this time in history. In addition, I've been told this by several spiritual sources over the years. What escaped me though was why? Why did my starlit soul decide to ride in a human body in this day and age? It's baffled me for years, although it seems I have always known generally why, the specifics always eluded me. They why - I chose to be born so that I would be here for humans transition from clueless wasteful creatures who had forgotten their purpose to humans who have begun to recall their spirituality and connection to all earth's creatures and to the stars beyond their imaginations. Over the years I have seen underground movements form, all seeking wisdom through serving the earth and the great spirit, grow to almost overwhelming masses of people, some scattering the globe. All of whom are working to share the knowledge that was born to them in an effort to turn back the clock and reverse the damage done to the mother earth. But I know my spirit did not come back to earth just to watch, for I could not be satiated with just observing from afar. <br /><br />I'm am here to experience the end of the world as we know it (isn't that a song?) and in doing so, I can slowly extricate myself from it's long held grip. The fall of complex corporations, money, banks, consumerism, mass sensationalized media, traffic, pollution, chemical agriculture, endless NOISE and so forth; all of these dependent upon the Mother's resources, assumed to be there for the taking. I am here to be with humanity as we learn the old ways again. Those who are healthy, self sufficient in growing food, hunting food and networking for food will survive. Others will lie, cheat and steal and eventually die because the world as they knew it did not require them to think or try to survive. <br /><br />I suppose for me there is somewhat of a thrill in the will to survive, to rely upon what mother earth can provide. The decaying rope of this current industrialized culture will finally break away and I will be free! I won't have complex yet shallow worries. No mortgage, no owning land (I mean really who really owns land), no having my identity being stolen because a hacker found his way into a multi billion dollar advertising corporation and stole a file. I won't have to ask my sister every year to sit down to a bottle of wine with me and do my taxes. I won't have to worry about a paycheck, what is money worth anyway when the whole system fails, well, it may be good for starting fires to keep warm in the winters..., I won't have to prove myself worthy of insurance, health care or a raise. <br /><br />So why am I tickled pink at watching the world fall apart? What part of me is so delusional that I must find humor in the tragedy of a grave situation. Well, for one, initially survival after the fall of the world, will be brutal in many ways. Finding good food and clean water will prove to be difficult, especially if the collapse is due to nuclear fallout. Protecting ourselves from those who go crazy and can't handle the forced change will become a way of life. Keeping warm, treating injuries and sickness in the ways of a healer. And so on. I supposed it's because I've known all along that this way of life will not sustain the earth or her creatures. I've been ready all my life for it to go awry. Industrialization has always had a dark looming final chapter that has yet to be read. But many of us still hold memories of another way of being, maybe not in this life, but some of us know that we have lost our connection and that we must re-establish that lost bond if the human society is to survive.<br /><br />This new emergent society would value Community and I see that it may become more of way of life than just a word. Humans will come together to help each other survive. As years, decades and centuries go by, a new generation of humans will emerge from the destruction. Sort of like the legend of the great flood goes, only a handful of humanity will survive in hopes that the lesson has finally been learned and mistakes of the distant and not so distant past will not be remade. It could be a human fatal flaw though. No matter how many times the earth is destroyed for us or we destroy the earth, we may not learn. Of course, I won't be around to see that part, where humans are once again living as once again in harmony, as the mother earth prefers. But I will be here, at least I hope to be, to assist my fellow human compadres to get through the initial dramatic and dark changes to come, reassuring that there is hope for us. So then that must it, I am here to be a part of the great awakening and the great change, while at the same time knowing with out a doubt that I will soon celebrate my long awaited freedom from the rat race that was not meant for us.sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-84086513972012313112011-03-22T22:06:00.000-07:002012-10-29T15:49:24.493-07:00Forces of Nature<span style="color: #134f5c;">Winter was cruel son of a bitch this year. He knocked Fall from here to kingdom come and took over with brutal force, ravaging us with winds, rains, floods, hail, snow, ice and bitter, bitter cold. He's having a helluva time trying to continue his nefarious rule over the seasons, but Spring is resisting and steadily gaining control. For even though Winter's cold is still evident, Spring has managed to poke it's head out just enough to encourage the sleeping trees and dormant bulbs to stir, setting in motion that miraculous thing we call life. Winter may imagine himself to be the more daunting force of nature but Spring is resilient and set in her ways. She will toss him from the dominion, his tail tucked between his ass cheeks, and a harsh sentence in hand mandating that he stay far, far away until the other seasons have had their analogous time on the throne. And so it goes, in the kingdom of seasons.</span>sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-13566090656867866512011-02-04T18:50:00.001-08:002012-10-29T15:49:24.440-07:00A loving rivarly, maybeYou could say it was bred into me - my love for the Green Bay Packers, that is. If you aren't familiar with the Packers, let's just say, in my own unbiased opinion, they are the best professional football team in the National Football League. My daddy was a cheesehead, my momma was a cheesehead, therefore, my sisters and I became cheeseheads. Even my brother-n-law was born in Green Bay, who, now that I think about it, was welcomed quite enthusiastically and warmly into our family, no questions asked. As soon as a niece or nephew is born, it's a race to start dressing these new little beings into baby Packer outfits during football season. <br /><br /><br /><br />As it was with our family, so it is with others. However, my husband grew up in a household who yes, spent Sundays worshiping the gods of football but who also sported split allegiances. Papa was not a rolling stone, but he was a lifelong Cleveland Browns fan. Mama, you guessed it, was a Packers fan. But my husband's path was to be colored with black and gold, as he at an early age, declared he was a Pittsburgh Steeler fan. Luckily, when we married, my husband was welcomed with opens arms by my second brother n law who also bleeds Steeler colors.<br /><br /><br /><br />Through out the early years of our marriage, I sent good vibes to his Steelers in hopes that they would eventually reach the Super Bowl and win it for him, since in his lifetime, the Steelers had been less than mediocre players. Then suddenly, Pittsburgh got better and soon they made it to two super bowls and won each one. As proud and happy I was for my husband's team, I earnestly wished for the impossible - a Packer/Steeler super bowl. I mean, how cool would that be to be going up against the love of my life in the all time sports event. However, for this to happen, my Packers would have to start shaping up. <br /><br /><br /><br />As the fervor of the 2010 football season was commencing, I said to my honey, that this was the year that my Packers were going to meet his Steelers in the super bowl. As good natured as always, he said it would be cool, but probably unlikely. Yet, now that we are approaching Super Bowl 49, the impossible is happening! The dream has come true! We are matched up against each<br /><br />other, each of us in gold, but our second team colors run dramatically different. In fact, not only is this once in a lifetime super bowl just a fantasy come true, it is the sports fanatic's idea of the makings of what is being touted as the ultimate match up - and could possibly being the undoing of our families. <br /><br /><br /><br />This Sunday our alliances will be divided. We will all be holding on to the hopes that our quarter back doesn't get taken out in the first quarter, that we can out run, out defend, out think, out throw each other's opponent. I mean come on, his Steelers have been to the Super Bowl, not once, but twice, in the last few years. He's been able to whoop it up on Super Bowl Sundays and claim his stake in football history. It's time for the Pack to hog the coveted spotlight. So, I'm sorry honey, I love you but we're gonna stomp all ovah your black and gold asss Sunday!sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-83298256083210292232011-01-27T20:51:00.001-08:002012-10-29T15:49:24.490-07:00Grocery List for a Happy Life<em><strong>I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. And what I can do, I ought to do. And what I ought to do, by the grace of God, I shall do. ~Edward Everest Hale</strong></em><br /><br />We all have dreams right? And just how often do we follow those dreams? Regrettably, we seem to be lacking in follow-through. Too many obstacles appear to stand in the way. ‘What if's’ abound and doubting Thomas' overloads you with disparaging dissuasions. Soon, our dreams are demoted to silly pipe dreams and eventually, as we realize the error of our ways, are consigned to remorseful 'could have beens.’<br /><br />No way, not me. You won't find me mourning or apologetic for failing to attend to my heart’s desires, which consist of a steady diet of love, kindness and comfort. This so-called grocery list for a happy life isn’t made up of tangible items that can be purchased or collected. However, they definitely can be earned, shared, and most simply, gratifying. Take any human being, for example, and peel away the layers of money, status, material things, heartbreak and baggage. At the core of their being lies the most delicate layer of all. Peer in closely and you will unearth the most humble, barest essentials required for us to flourish: the need for utter kindness and to know love in all its immeasurable bounds. <br /><br />These innate prerequisites for a happy life may be accessible in us all, but only those of us who choose to share these fundamentals with others in need, can really experience the reality of pursuing our dreams. Whatever your aspirations are for your life, you must make a difference. You must always look for a chance to show compassion and offer a plateful of thoughtfulness, initiating the birth of someone else's dreams. You are part of the universe, along with every plant, animal, human and dirt particle. Every act of goodwill weighs heavily on the scales of humanity. Only when you have done this, can you finally toss those preconceived notions aside, open your heart, and take the first stride towards what makes you happy. It is then that you will find the determination that you can, you will, and you shall make your dreams come true.sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-67693710643522429032011-01-09T20:19:00.001-08:002012-10-29T15:49:24.484-07:00Baby MamaI got lucky this holiday season. Two weeks off of work! I had big plans that included doing a lot of nothing. A slothful break from every day routine was definitely in my book, that is, until I received an email from a local dog rescuer who was in need of a foster home for a puppy. We haven't fostered a dog since we adopted our last foster, turning our two dogs into a happy, unstoppable pack of three. But this puppy, oh this puppy was adorable. A 10 week old white pitbull baby with the sweetest puppy dog eyes stared out longingly at me, begging me to be her foster mama. Plus, with a pending two week vacation and no set plans, it would be the perfect situation to train her. Knowing that I'd have to convince my husband, I casually mentioned it to him then stategically showed him her picture. It worked, he was hooked right along with me and soon plans were set into motion and a date was set for her arrival the following sunday.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDL1pU98e1Z1HJbFtjPanv82i8qBwHgE7Rx-WiDAeIi4NNAifC5QXJ4WH6FlicGUIj75qEIndWrIMZS17Nl3Omu42FUlDJWJffDFlQjsxM89xarF_MY2DXeCCDWWQygaf9JF7eSbMJoo/s1600/IMG_7610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDL1pU98e1Z1HJbFtjPanv82i8qBwHgE7Rx-WiDAeIi4NNAifC5QXJ4WH6FlicGUIj75qEIndWrIMZS17Nl3Omu42FUlDJWJffDFlQjsxM89xarF_MY2DXeCCDWWQygaf9JF7eSbMJoo/s320/IMG_7610.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Having raised 3 puppies in the last 5 years, I had no misguided notions about the work that puppies require, not to mention that we had no idea how our 3 dogs would adapt to a puppy in the house. What I was not prepared for was how attached I would become to this little darling. Lilly, arrived at our house on a rainy cold evening. She looked so much smaller that her pictures. All white with black spots on her ears and nose, she sported a pink little coat and shivered in the freezing wind as we tried to get her to pee before coming inside. Her little tail wagged and wagged as we petted her, cooing over her sweet little muffine face. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfp_AFd9Z6OVxM9Ih4etJ7eZ3fWtNwSvWGyP3NWTYzHFI_Rl0ccgZkMjZfzxqfkYpoPw-Vt8jIny5DkOoMSTwit8eTZXrRC_hHso1n_9w8fNW8MO5oi3UUabhIJDvd6qQYlD4lax0mUmw/s1600/Dec+2010+pics+with+Lilly+021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfp_AFd9Z6OVxM9Ih4etJ7eZ3fWtNwSvWGyP3NWTYzHFI_Rl0ccgZkMjZfzxqfkYpoPw-Vt8jIny5DkOoMSTwit8eTZXrRC_hHso1n_9w8fNW8MO5oi3UUabhIJDvd6qQYlD4lax0mUmw/s320/Dec+2010+pics+with+Lilly+021.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>After a nervous introduction with our dogs, it was quickly determined that not everyone was going to get along. Out came the baby gate, separating the kitchen from the dining room, creating a safe place for Lilly to roam without fear of becoming dinner. Our female, Huckleberry, instantly took to Lilly and donned the momma bear role as if she'd raised puppies all her life. Our life settled right into the new routine of taking Lilly out to pee every 20 mins or so, supervising play time, crate training, making sure our dogs got their share of attention, and discouraging biting (damn puppy teeth are sharp!). At night after Lilly was in her crate and all the dogs asleep, I dropped into bed completely exhausted. Luckily for us, Lilly slept through the night with no accidents so a good nights sleep was a given. Her favorite thing to do was to crawl into bed to snuggle with Warren before breakfast. She insisted upon it and would not eat until she had cuddle time. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SiWBzjU2qfoyN8iHmB2w4JlU6v-MsPbLFxHk1KwU291O_9no3RFOrkDvN-xuJr1b2IgINTG3XU3Qqwk8B5EAFB3PnuBWqqtA_MTCFnwg2FOJYaFoNL-_MDfChI3wL8mV3DBgME0aVK0/s1600/IMG_7605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SiWBzjU2qfoyN8iHmB2w4JlU6v-MsPbLFxHk1KwU291O_9no3RFOrkDvN-xuJr1b2IgINTG3XU3Qqwk8B5EAFB3PnuBWqqtA_MTCFnwg2FOJYaFoNL-_MDfChI3wL8mV3DBgME0aVK0/s320/IMG_7605.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Of course Lilly had many suitors who called to inquire about her and a couple of people even came to meet her. As carefully as we screened potential adopters, it was Lilly who told us who she wanted to be her forever family. It turned out to be a young couple, way to young we thought at first. But Lilly insisted and the couple turned out to be just what Lilly needed. Both were raised with pit bulls and other dogs, and were very knowledgeable about the breed. They had just bought a house and the girl had always wanted an all white pitbull, which apparently are not that common. Lilly bonded with them right away, just as we did. After passing a home visit and an intense application interview process, everyone new these folks would be her forever family.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb25pPdhBTwMwBNMWEMQG5Tgh0ayGgNc_AGgbs3CAM91gqdoWhnHx4J5MQzYJ8rRw6rp3KUweGL9aF-5gNUaZ4zMkIk9lRTqEDk_e4qqdxMD5Rf_McMkRGRe7kqumhurqNTCAEOVtQmNY/s1600/IMG_7662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb25pPdhBTwMwBNMWEMQG5Tgh0ayGgNc_AGgbs3CAM91gqdoWhnHx4J5MQzYJ8rRw6rp3KUweGL9aF-5gNUaZ4zMkIk9lRTqEDk_e4qqdxMD5Rf_McMkRGRe7kqumhurqNTCAEOVtQmNY/s320/IMG_7662.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Lilly's new parents came to pick her up on the last day of my vacation. It was tearful, full of hugs, promises to keep in touch and laughter. As they drove away with Lilly, I knew I'd done my job. We gave Lilly a little over 2 weeks of constant love, training, and socialization. Just what she needed to be able to start her life on four solid paws. We will miss her as she etched out a piece of our hearts just for her. But it feels so good knowing that another dog has a forever home and another dog will be loved and cared for forever. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7iC8lT_u-Q6zOdV0kybJh0rt3G1WCK69x1ftrblwa8Wv-FHTQ9vkBdtbo5S8A5Q2i1zSM6EnOkHvEhmi-zEs3KLj8MIUpuClKHdjIKJm8pZOlf0xWiZeMDddFdD-QqoGxj_XrTeGQPYg/s1600/IMG_7660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7iC8lT_u-Q6zOdV0kybJh0rt3G1WCK69x1ftrblwa8Wv-FHTQ9vkBdtbo5S8A5Q2i1zSM6EnOkHvEhmi-zEs3KLj8MIUpuClKHdjIKJm8pZOlf0xWiZeMDddFdD-QqoGxj_XrTeGQPYg/s320/IMG_7660.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>In the end, my slothful vacation days were much more action packed that I had planned. Bein a baby mama takes a lot of work, focus and time. Yet when I returned to work the next day, I was fulfilled and in a good place knowing that as a bonafide dog rescuer, I had done only what I could have done, and that was to open my heart and home to a dog in need.sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6158431158516998092.post-48392670717777763702010-12-06T21:04:00.001-08:002012-10-29T15:49:24.463-07:00Purveyor of Stories<div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>Anyone who says they have only one life to live must not know how to read a book. </strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>~Author Unknown</strong></em></div><br />Two years ago, I began riding the train to work. Granted there were buses I could have taken previously but those involved transferring and other interruptions and, this new train route boasted a full uninterrupted 40 minutes ride each way while dropping me off and picking me up in front of my place of employment. I couldn't resist for very good reasons. One was to save on parking costs downtown, of course and my job pays for a significant portion of my train pass so it was a good budgetary move. But the real reason was, the train ride to and from work would allow me to luxuriate for 80 minutes in my favorite pastime - reading books.<br /><br />There you have it. I am a book junkie. I guess there are worse things to be addicted to. During extreme episodes of jonesing, I've been known to sneak into the bathroom stalls at work just to get in two or three pages of my latest paperback. In fact, if the book was good enough, I'd put off fixing dinner, doing laundry, walking the dogs and whatnot, just to delve fully into my reading. What is it inside of me that is so twisted that I would prefer living vicariously through the lives of the characters in my books, all the while reaping the benefits of their happiness, crying with them in their twisted sorrows, feeling their pain, frustration, terror and injustices?<br /><br />I've been reading books since literally, the day I could read. Wintry, snowy nights of my childhood were spent with all members of the family curled up comfortably in every nook and cranny of the house, each of us lost in our stories, oblivious to the world around us. A lot of the books I read are recommended by friends or family but when I buy a book or pick one out at the library, I read the back cover. If that along with the title speaks to me, I go on to read the first couple sentences of the first chapter. If that grabs me, I'm hooked and the book is mine. I'll read anything but I prefer rich novels that span generations or book series whose central plot defies accepted norms. Then there's the 'why did i just read that' books. Tales that were unexpectedly or otherwise twisted, leaving a foul imprint on my mind, making me want to sleep with the light on, or constantly look over my shoulder. No matter what work of fiction I am furiously devouring, I dread beginning the last chapters. Anxiety of having to forever say goodbye to the characters I have grown so close to is enough to make me slow down and to savor each and every last word.<br /><br />The thrill of finishing a story is undeniable, in a sense, too, because I never ever put a read book back on the shelf. For it is pure pleasure to be the purveyor of stories, passing on the books I have consumed to others who are awaiting to immerse themselves into the narrative time warp. I have sisters, a mother and couple of friends that wait patiently for me to announce I have another book for them. And do I ever. Each week I finish a book. Each week I get a call from a sister asking for the next book. Each week I make special arrangements to get that book to her. The books are passed on and on, only rarely returning to me. And that's the way it should be. No house should have a big library, for those books are just sitting on shelves collecting dust and bugs. But every house should have an open book that is read every single night, whether alone or to another. Books give us occasion to escape, just for a while. A chance to live in someone else's shoes without the repercussions of their actions. An opportunity challenge our convictions and to add insightful chapters to our world view. <br /><br />Now, I've really got to go now because even though I love writing, I love reading more and I've got to get back to my novel, the characters are missing me!sasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16329891504633061852noreply@blogger.com2