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Posts Tagged ‘depression’

2014-04-01 11.44.50
Another mouth to feed, one that decidedly will become a big one.  This  67-yr old, not the least bit athletic, not even remotely athletic, has fallen for one of the litter I wrote about in February.  Lil Bear, I call him.  You can call me crazy.  I wavered for a couple weeks. I brought him home to ‘try out’ with my other two older, wonderful dogs.  That didn’t exactly go well.  Freckles is afraid Bear will eat his food.  Snickers is afraid Bear will take his spot next to me on the couch.  My reassurance did not help.   I brought him back to the litter the next day.  It was hard, I cri ed.  My husband said we don’t need another dog.  No one really needs one dog unless it’s a service dog.  But three!  He’s right, I don’t need another dog.

Lil Bear, hit my heart hard!  When I went to help my daughter clean up after the first 6 pups left, I tried to ignore him.  I cleaned up poopey papers, washed the floors as he and his litter-mates chased the mop.  I hugged and petted each pup equally.  Well almost.  when I picked him up for his lovin’, he looked into my eyes and he laughed, I know he laughed.  He knew he had me.  Another of the litter was adopted.  Down to 5 from the 11 Maisey had birthed.  I knew the last male was being kept by Julie, my daughter.   I tried out a female which was my preference if I was crazy enough to have another dog.  The little girl was so spooked by my female beagle, I thought she’d die of fright.  After an hour or two, I took her home.  She was sweet but I knew she would be forever skittish.  I really don’t need another dog anyway.

Julie reminded me that soon after their ‘fixin’, the remaining pups would be going to the adoption center.  Last weekend I decided I do need another dog and brought ‘Bear’ home again.  My logic is flawed I’m sure, but here it is.  My daughter owns his mother.  His favorite playmate of the litter is also going to be with my daughter.  I’m sure Bear will be a frequent visitor at the home four short miles away.  Julie will often take bear to the beach with them all to run.  She will also care for him if I need to travel.  Bear Loves Me!  Enough said? No?

I LOVE Li’l BEAR! Now he is mine.

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2014-02-28 09.40.18   I’ve been going through a rough spell during the last few months.  Isn’t it always the post-holiday season, winter cold, false spring starts that drag you down?  Newly sprouted spring bulbs frozen in place by an unexpected cold snap, Christmas debt, flu-bugs, sometimes I wonder how anyone makes it through the doldrums of February and March.  This year I received an unexpected lift.  11 to be exact.  It sort of redefined life, mine especially. My daughter found a young female puppy cowering in traffic in the pouring rain.  She called the police and pulled the dog to safety.  After 5 days at the pound, ‘Maisey’ became part of her family.  Vet checked her over and owner didn’t want this passive little girl, so Julie brought her home. Some short weeks later, a trip to the vet confirmed she was pregnant.   Maisey underwent an ultrasound and was expecting  6 pups.  In the early evening of February 21, Maisey made her nest in a closet and set out to birth her pups.  Julie had tried to get her into a child’s swimming pool to present her babies, but Maisey had other ideas.  The first pup was born about 6:00 PM.  Myself and Pappa rushed through supper and drove the few miles so we could witness the remaining births. By our arrival, 3 pups had been whelped, and so we were privy to the birth of the next 3.  A message awaited us when we arrived home, 3 more pups had been born during our short 15 minute trip home.  It was now 9:30PM.  Before 11PM, 2 more pups were born.  11 pups total, and one exhausted momma. My husband and I have been able to babysit on an almost daily basis.  Walking momma dog, and seeing to the puppies feedings and cleaning has been a joy.  Updates to come.

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ice-fire-robert-frostI cannot continue

tears fall inside

I have no backbone

I hate conflict

I hate fighting

tears fall inside

I hate hurting any breathing thing

I hate being hurt

I hate seeing anyone in pain

tears fall inside

I was born with extreme sensitivity

I cannot continue to argue

I don’t want to continue to argue

I don’t want to continue

tears fall inside

no-one knows it but I’m at risk

take that how you want

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1900 US Census

1900 US Census

I have spent the better part of this summer looking for my grand-father.  No, not a living-breathing man, but a man who has turned to dust along with any sign of his beginnings or his middle.  All I have is his end.  Death by alcoholism in Louisville Kentucky July 29, 1904.

I’ve done a lot of genealogy research over the years, tracing my mothers family back to Maryland in the 1600’s.  I’ve followed my paternal grandmother’s folks from England into Pennsylvania and then into Kentucky and Indiana.  Always my attempts would uncover just a little more.

Now there’s George.  My proverbial brick wall.  I have to do this research, but only the Lord knows why.  He sticks in my craw, that’s all.  My dad never knew his dad. My dad only knew his mom from the age of 16 until she died in 1941.  He spent the years after George’s death in an orphanage, because his mom was too ill to care for him.  There were family members that could have taken him in, but I guess he was considered tainted because he was born ‘too soon’   My Daddy always wanted to know about his father and the family before him, but even after his reunion with his mother, no words were of him were spoken.

The fact is, there are no facts. Oh, there’s an incomplete marriage record of grandma and grandpa George crossing the state line to get a married quietly, without fanfare, no friends or family in attendance.  Quickly too, as grandma was 5 month pregnant with my dad.  And there’s death record, short and concise.  Oh, and there’s actually a story in the newspaper about his gruesome death by alcohol and a tiny blurb about services being held at his brother-in-laws home.

So, I’m chasing George and I’m becoming familiar with every Campbell family in the mid-west, central-plains that had a George, born between 1861 and 1869, in their family.  I’m gaining insight into the lives of these people, the difficulties they faced, how they moved about and why.  It’s been such an educational experience.  In the end, maybe I’ll catch up with George and know who he was and why.  Maybe I’ll have to wait and meet him in heaven, though I wonder if he’s there.  In the meantime, I have a spreadsheet over 500 entries long that covers from 1870 to 1940 of a man (or men)  named George Campbell.  I will share what I know if you will share what I don’t know.

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Sensitivity

Has anyone else noticed the lack of sensitivity in people today. Or maybe I just run in the wrong circles. Maybe I have surrounded myself in this senseless world full of senseless tragedy, with senseless people. I don’t have a thin skin. As a matter of fact anyone will tell you I can brush about anything off, even when I shouldn’t. Anyone that knows me knows that as quick as I am to anger, I’m even quicker to forgive. People (a huge generalization) are insensitive. They can feel their own pain or discomfort or elation and joy, but not another’s. They don’t bother to ‘read’ people, they can’t feel them.

This morning (Father’s Day) I got up and while my husband still slept, I made homemade muffins and biscuits. I worked as quietly as possible. When the smoke alarm went off I quickly opened doors and turned up the oven fan to make it stop. I knew I had awakened him, but thought maybe he would fall back to sleep. I arranged the table and placed his napkin (on which I wrote ‘happy Dad’s day, I love you’) nearby. Everything was set in place including a red nasturtium bloom on his plate. He did sleep a little longer. I heard him arise awhile later, and he completed his morning bathroom routine. When he finally emerged he said not a word. He walked right past the table so carefully set. Not even a ‘good morning’. I knew he was angry that the alarm woke him, but that silence hurt. It cut like a knife!

Ok, as I sit here in a breakfast joint with an endless cup of coffee.  I feel better now that I have spouted off.  Thank you again “Teddy’s Pieces”

coffee

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Mother

Estee Lauder’

a cloud of white

sometimes blue

red poppies and black roses

and petite vioets

Mashed potatoes piled high

chicken frying

and pickled beets

pretty dresses

for mine and me

as hard as I try

I don’t remember 

a kiss goodnight

next to my bed

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