Dad.

I love my dad.  Simple as that.  It has always been that way although I must admit, my love for my dad has changed a bit over the years. When I was very young, my dad seemed very mystical to me.  He was a spirit who came in the night leaving all sorts of gifts for my brothers and me: a beret from Bermuda, a rug from Indonesia.  He was a Major in the Air Force and during this time, he flitted in and out of our lives on a breeze.

When I was a teenager ( the nightmare of all teenagers), my dad was a statue.  A rock.  And I thank God everyday that he didn't smash my head against that rock for all of the stupid, stupid stunts I pulled.  My dad, during this time, was dealing with his own challenges and sometimes that caused a rift between us. 

When I was a young parent, my dad was. . . well, my dad.  And my kids' grandpa.  My dad blossomed into this guy who didn't mind having his toenails painted or having make up applied or playing with Barbie dolls.  All of my kids have loved him from the moment they met him.

When I was a older parent, my dad was my standard of living.  To me, he has been the forest - as strong as an oak tree, as reliable as the sap of a maple.  To this day, my dad is all things natural and woodsy and strong.  I think my dad has become more mellow through the years.  It breaks my heart to hear him tell me that he is sorry that he doesn't talk much.  Because that is so wrong.  He talks very little but he tells me a lot.  He doesn't understand that I get him.  I don't talk much either but that doesn't take away from the time we spend together. 

My dad.  He is, hands-down, the best kind of dad.  I see him in my son's chin, my daughter's nose.  I see him in the way my oldest son deals with bad news and in the way my oldest daughter deals with good news.  I see my dad in the hollyhocks growing along my fence and in the mighty oaks that are thriving behind my house. 

I see my dad in everything.  And I love him.  And I thank God everyday that I have him with me still.  

Smiles.

My grandson with a fist full of peas feeding them to his new friends, Max and scraggly kitty;

this smile makes my heart sing;

and this little wow-wow face.  A great day at One Old Goat Farm!

Progress.

The good news is that the deck is secured, the skidloader has been removed.  The sofa is still there which is probably a good thing because it makes it more likely that it will be taken to the transfer station immediately. 

Other good news is that Dolly Llama and new horse, Buddy, have become pals as is evidenced by their nuzzling and sharing of secrets. 

Buddy enjoyed his stroll through the field this afternoon although his newfound llama llove missed him terribly and stood by the fence looking very forlorn until he returned.

But Dolly llama wasn't the only animal pouting this afternoon.  Bunny-chaser Sebastian and Firestarter Casper stared out the window watching Buddy and Haley ride away.  Neither Sebastian or Casper felt particularly sad that Buddy left the farm for a bit but they were both quite miffed that they couldn't follow along.

But other than two disgruntled dogs and a lonely llama, things were good here at One Old Goat farm.  Nothing fell, nothing broke, nothing burned, no fights, no tears: quite the opposite.  Today was full of smiles and laughter and much happiness.  The outlook for tomorrow is the same.

Is we redneck? Or is we hick?

Yes, that is a skidloader holding up our deck.  And yes, that is a sofa setting on the deck.  And yes, that is a hot tub (someone's project from last summer)partially hidden behind the deck.

Sometimes I really dread the phonecalls I receive at work.  This time last year, the call was that our boxer, Casper, had nearly burned down the kitchen.  This year, it was that the deck had collapsed.  I am a very good spouse because not once did I mention that the old sofa - the one into which that fire-starting dog had dug a hole the size of a bowling ball - was way too heavy to be set on this part of the deck.  Not once during the day did I mention how many years I've reminded someone that we really needed to add supports to that portion of the deck.  Because I am a very tolerant person.  And I won't complain to anyone as long as the deck is fixed by the end of the weekend.

Play nice.

Play nice.  I remember my mom saying this to me and my little brother.  Just play nice.  My mom is easily one of the nicest people I know.  I am sure she would disagree.  Seriously though, my mom is the nicest person you could meet and if you don't already know her, you should try to meet her.   She is the one who has taught me that is better to be nice, that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.  Don't get me wrong - she knows how to express an opinion better than anyone I know but still, she is nice to people.  And that is something that is sorely lacking in the society I've encountered throughout the years.

I wish the world would listen to my mom.  She knows what she is talking about.    Or, rather, what she is smiling about.  I remember when I was young, we would drive to Erie to visit my aunt.  And my mom would wave.  To everyone.  I don't know why but embarrassing as it was to a teenage, I thought that was a pretty nice thing to do.  When we are out, she smiles at everyone.  Sometimes a chuckle to go with that smile.  Especially at little kids.  I love that.  Now honestly sometimes, a remark mumbled under her breath makes me laugh even more, but my mom always has a smile for little kids.

So today on campus, at the grocery store, on the road, I got to thinking that there are a whole lot of people who need to spend some time with my mom.  The crabbier that people seem to be, the friendlier I become.  Which makes me think (since I am so much like my mom) that that is the purpose behind her own friendliness. 

This afternoon - in the frame of about a half hour - I think that there may just be a happier bank teller, a happier cashier at the grocery store, and maybe one or two happier people behind the wheel.  I was thinking of my mom as I left the office at lunchtime and I decided to share a little of her today. 

So I hope you enjoy her.  Thanks mom!  I love you!!!!

Remembering.

Yesterday at church, the sermon was about the birth of Memorial Day.  It was an excellent sermon (as most of Pastor Jeff's sermons are).  It really made me think.  Despite having several veterans from several different wars in my immediate family, to me Memorial Day has largely stood for the beginning of summer.  Once Memorial Day had passed, school would soon be over and the hot days of summer would begin.  I remember putting flowers on the grave sites of relatives and attending Memorial Day services but really, the day has also served as simply the starting point for summer.

For the first year since I moved here, there was no service held at the little cemetery across the road from us.  As far as I remember, the local American Legion stopped at most of the little cemeterys in the area to honor the veterans.  I really missed that today and I wonder what I can do to ensure that they come back next year.  Because even though the event only lasted for five minutes, tops.  It was special.  And many years, my kids and I were the only people attending and it was a great way for us to remember who we have to thank for our many freedoms.

 And we have so many freedoms for which to be thankful.  We are so lucky to be able to worship any way we please.  We are lucky to be able to own the land on which we reside.  We are lucky to be able to express our opinion concerning all things.  We have the right to disagree or to agree or to be apathetic. We have the right to all of things because we have had people like our veterans willing to sacrifice their lives to fight for our freedom.

I really do think of all I have.  And the choices I have the luxury of making everyday.  And I am humbled - not only be those who did make the ultimate sacrifice - but by those who signed up for the job knowing full well that the cost may very likely be their lives.  They've done this for me and my family.  And they don't even know us. 

So thank you to Kristen and all of the soldiers in her unit, thanks to my dad and my uncle, thanks to all of those kids I read about every day in the newspaper who have either left for their duty or who have been injured or died while serving our country. 

Happy Birthday!



Buddy

This past weekend we celebrated 3 birthdays.  I can't believe my kids are 28, 24, 14, 14, and 12 (it was the 14 year olds and 12 year old birthdays we celebrated this weekend).  One thing I've learned from having a gap of 10 years between kids is to not wish the time away.  I can remember when my oldest were young - wishing for the days I would be able to sleep more than 4 hours at a stretch, longing for the time when I didn't have to change diapers, act as a chauffeur, deal with a mountain of laundry every day of the week.

Jordan enjoying her Nookbook



Now. . . I know those days will come.  And I'm not looking forward to it. At all.  Sure, I'm tired after working all day and then having to run kids here and there.  But what will I do when there is no soccer practice or band concerts or 4H meetings?  This year was my son's very last elementary school music concert and I could barely control the tears streaming down my face the entire time.

Ikey - just being Ikey;

Sometimes I would rather kick back and read a book than drive the kids one more place.  But I know that there will soon be a day that they will be driving themselves.  I have nightmares about that day. 

There have been times when I haven't listened attentively when one of my children was recounting the details of a dream.  And I know that 5 years from now, I would sell my soul to get those types of discussion back.

Haley riding her new horse, Buddy;

I'm lucky.  My kids will cuddle with me.  They still enjoy 'mom-time' and a trip to get an ice cream cone is still considered a special treat (or at least they let me believe it is).  I don't want these days to end.  But yet every May 27th and 28th (and October14 and December 27th), we celebrate the progression of another year.  It is nothing to celebrate.  I need a few more days or months or years to thoroughly and completely enjoy my kids.  I want my kids - all of my kids - to stay where they are right now.  I don't want my oldest son to move to the opposite side of the country, don't want my daughter and grandson to move six more hours away, don't want my kids to drive.  I want things to stay the same.  But they can't and they won't.  So I will enjoy what is now and not wish for tomorrow.  Because tomorrow will come whether I am ready or not.  And I am not.

Home - where I want them all to stay.

Sun. Day.

 Two days without rain.  One day actually with sun - today was a bit dreary but no rain so who's complaining?  Everyone was out today - visiting neighbors, going to church, working in the garden, mowing the lawn......there was no excuse to be stuck in the house. 

Even the bunny who apparently is star-struck by all things chicken came over to check out the hens today. 

As always he was a little bit timid, hanging out by the woodpile, peering from a comfortably close distance - so close but yet so far.

He eventually got up the nerve to get a little closer.  So close, in fact, he was actually in the chicken yard!  He sniffed around but when he realized the chickens weren't quite as enamered with him as he with they . . . . . off he hopped!!

 Other animals on One Old Goat farm came out to play and to see what the commotion was all about.  After all, it has been weeks since that big yellow ball was up in the sky and since wetness has not fallen from the sky. 

The season's kittens were checking out the hullabaloo.  These kittens are new enough to us that although they are very, very curious, they hiss if a human gets too close.

 All of the animals seemed to be kicking out the cobwebs of winter.  All of the farm - animals and humans both - have been suffering from an unusually bad case of cabin fever.

It was so nice to get outside, to smell the trees and the flowers, to listen to the horses whinny, the cow moos, the chickens cluck, and Dolly Llama....well, whatever it is Dolly Llama does.

Lunchbox is very happy that his pen is finally drying up;

At One Old Goat Farm, improvision and creativity are a necessity;

And even though most of the day was spent inside, even Fat Max agreed to go inside if it meant a snack;

And so did Sebastian,

And also Casper, the boxer, who is recuperating from a nasty ear infection.

Uncertainty.

A group of people where I work will lose their jobs on Monday. Until now, these things only happened in other places. A major University has always been safe. I thought. As I sit at my desk, I listen to the conversations around me. It makes me sad. I’m listening to people say goodbye to the lives that they’ve had for years.

I can’t blame the organization – things are what they are. As we change technology, technology changes the way we live. As a result, the needs of a business may change to the point that people are no longer needed.

But isn’t it an oxymoron to use technology to provide the personal touch? To be a personal touch, shouldn’t a person be the thing doing the touching?

As someone who tends to hide from the rest of the world on a regular basis, technology has been a way for me to step out of my self-imposed isolation and to communicate with others within my comfort zone. And part of my attraction to using technology in communication is that for the most part, I don’t need to see another human face. I can get my point across much more effectively by the written word than by spoken word. Behind a computer screen, I can be anyone.

But a good portion of the rest of the world is not like me, thank goodness. And although I can certainly understand the reasoning of an organization for closing a department and ending jobs when there is no demand, it still hurts. I wish my co-workers the very best. And Godspeed in securing another position.

Rain Dance.



We told him NOT to do it!  We told him to STOP!



But he kept on,

Dancing and dancing and dancing his little boy rain dance,

He was a whirling dervish,

And with his mission accomplished, his job was done and he went home.

Thank you, little boy, for the rain!!!!

Goodbye.

The world's best dog died today.  My pal Bear. My most favorite running buddy.  He was a great dog - the kind of dog who only comes along once in a lifetime.

I have some really great dogs now but Bear was something different.  From day one, it was clear he was special.  He was the best combination of retriever and Chow chow.  He had the disposition of a lab and the black tongue of a Chowchow.  He never missed an opportunity to grab a snack or a belly rub.  He tried desparately to run with me every chance he got.  Leaving the house for a run with another dog was the worst kind of betrayal.

Bear loved most everyone but he hated other dogs venturing into his yard.  He was incredibly gentle but I just knew that he would lay down his life for me.  I remember one of our runs where he bolted after a groundhog - clearly protecting me.  The groundhog never had a chance.

I'll miss Bear terribly.  And he leaves behind some other very, very good dogs.

I love you Bear.