You may have noticed that I post a load of pictures on Facebook and Instagram of my two West German Shepherds, Ryka and Calypso. I adore my four-legged companions and all my friends know this. They love tagging me when they find posts about shepherds. This story was shared by a friend this morning and it touched my heart so deeply that I wanted to share it here.
It happened as the Martin family pulled into a strip mall outside Atlanta. The dad went into a store to buy a new dog collar for Noah. Out of nowhere, a road rage incident erupted in the parking lot. Gunfire hit the SUV.
Diondra Martin told INSIDE EDITION, “Glass was flying over my head, over their head.”
A bullet hole pierced the seat just inches from where Diondra’s son was sitting.
“When I took them out of the car and realized where the bullets were, I was like, ‘Oh my gosh. They were that close!’ ” exclaimed Diondra.
A 911 caller said, “Somebody got shot. I heard around 8 gunshots outside in the parking lot.”
Then, a remarkable thing happened. In the hail of bullets the dog raced to the front seat.
Diondra explained, “His body was pushing me to stay this way.”
Diondra believes Noah was coming to sheild her and that’s when a bullet hit him in the neck.
“The bullet was coming towards me and it hit him in the neck,” she said.
That’s right! Noah took a bullet for the family.
“It was so heart breaking. I saw the hurt in his eyes,” she recalled.
You won’t believe what happened next.
The gravely injured Noah took after the gunman, as seen on surveillance video.
Dad, Kadon Martin said, “I see my wife over there screaming, and she was bloodied up.”
Kadon ran after his wounded dog and showed us how he found Noah lying on the sidewalk. Kadon explained, “I grabbed his head and I opened his mouth and tried to blow in his mouth.”
But it was too late. Noah died from the gunshot wound.
The loss is too much to bear, and Kadon tearfully stopped and had to leave the room.
Diondra said, “It’s very hard on him. He’s never cried like that before.”
But the story doesn’t end there.
Dog breeder Elizabeth Wilkerson heard the story of brave Noah on the news. She drove 750 miles from her home in Michigan to deliver a very special present to the Martins.
Wilkerson told INSIDE EDITION, “The whole situation just broke my heart.”
Meet their new dog, Kris! We were there for the big moment!
The children were overwhelmed with joy. But none more than dad, who broke down in tears, telling Wilkerson, “Thank you so much. Thank you so much.”
A happy ending to a tragic tale.
But the family will always have a special place in the hearts for Noah, who took a bullet for them.
“He saved the kids. He saved my lfie,” said Diondra.
I was bound and determined today to sit down and just write. It’s something I’ve been feeling the need to do and not having the time to do. It’s Lent for anyone who is Catholic and a time of reflection; at least that seems to be the theme of the homilies at church these days.
I don’t know if I just didn’t understand exactly what reflection was, or just wasn’t in a place to reflect. That statement will no doubt resonate with only those who have been in a state of flux as I have been. So much in my life is unsettled and will remain that way indefinitely. I think that is what makes reflection difficult for me. To reflect means thinking back on some of the most painful parts of my life, and while it may be helpful to work my way through those parts, it is truly not possible. There are missing parts and people who are needed to work through those parts. It is not only my healing that is needed.
I have been reflecting on what a mess parts of my life have been. I do not think that as children, we think about growing up and looking back on our lives trying to figure out what was truth and what was not. Sadly, this past year has been one of many revelations; most of them not good.
I’ll probably be writing more on reflection later, but for now, on to the “lighter” side of life.
If you follow my blog, you know that I have two beautiful West German Shepherds. They are my two loves! Calypso seems to have her own “Lucy” moments, like her mistress!
Hubby wanted to have chickens and so he built a chicken coop. All I did was warn him, the chickens had better be secure as Calypso (and Ryka) were here first.
We weren’t going to start with the chickens so soon, but a friend of Hubby’s wanted to get rid of a few of his so it jumped started the process. He quickly built a coop of his own design and instead of the six he was hoping to house, he ended up with nine chickens. Well, there’s a saying that goes something to this effect – “You get what you speak into your life…” Well, he’s been saying that he might have to give three away if they start fighting because he really only wanted six and built the coop for six.
…and then there were eight. Hubby built the pen on skids so he could pull (see the chain?) it around the yard with the tractor so the chickens would have fresh grass. He pulled and parked it one night, not noticing that it sat on uneven ground. That was all that chicken needed! It bypassed the barbed wire along the bottom and out and about it went. Didn’t take long for Calypso to spot it – I wasn’t there but I know my dog VERY well. It looked like a chicken feather plucking contest in the back yard. The chicken was confiscated from Ryka and Calypso in the front yard. It wasn’t in good shape from what I heard.
Calypso has been spending an in ornate amount of time in the kennel as of late. It seems as though all I need to do is walk out of the back door, and they head to the kennel. The chickens have gotten used to Calypso running around and around and around the coop. Even after three weeks, she still finds them fascinating. She loves the excitement of making them fly. Ryka sometimes joins in, but for the most part is content to sit and watch between naps.
…and then there were seven. Hubby really should have known better on this one. He didn’t put the dogs in the kennel before going to the coop. He opened the door and a chicken saw a dog and a dog saw a chicken stepping out, and that was all it took. Calypso made a move and the second chicken was confiscated in the front yard. This one was still in good condition as Hubby chased Calypso and grabbed it. However, it was dead. Hubby cleaned this one and put it to cook.
I learned a few fascinating things with this chicken – one, there was a soft egg that the chicken would have laid the next day. Call me silly, but I didn’t grow up on a farm and never gave an egg much thought other than the fact it came in a carton at the market. Two, old chickens taste and smell horrible. While Hubby was chowing down on chicken stew, I had to shove my bowl away. I am extremely taste and texture sensitive. It was awful!
There are still seven chickens to date and I informed Hubby that if he would like for it to stay that way, he had better begin speaking it into his life, as in “I always wanted seven chickens!”
I learned an interesting trick this week. I saw this on Facebook. What would we do if not for Facebook. It is such a wealth of information! (laughing) I boiled a dozen eggs the other night and tried this technique out. After the eggs were boiled and slightly cooled, I put them one at a time into a mason jar. I filled the jar with tap water to about the height of the egg, capped it, and then shook it viciously. The egg pealed itself! I kid you not! I was so excited and making such a commotion that Hubby ran to see what I was doing. After that, it was a fight to see who was going to peel eggs. Why I didn’t just give him his own jar is beyond me.
And, being the Lucy that I am, what would a week be if I didn’t cut or burn myself at least once! I have no clue how I did this, especially since I was being careful, but I managed to make a connection with a knife right at the knuckle. Hubby did a great job of bandaging it in a way so that it stayed immobile to it could heal. The cut probably needed stitches, but I’d rather suffer. It has finally healed but looks like I have an extra ripple. Oh well. Doesn’t look any worse than the arthritis on my fingers.
I have friends who home school and this semester Hubby is teaching a farming course to them. They are gardening in our back yard. It should be quite interesting for the kids. They planted seeds and are documenting their growth through germination, planting and harvest.
Calypso and Ryka each get a “cookie” in the morning. The difference in personalities is so great and really comes through in the little moments. This is each of them waiting for me to hand them their cookie.
Ryka, ever the patient one, and Calypso in her “I want it and I want it NOW” way. She is the wild child. She lives life to the fullest. I guess I should be glad she’s a dog and not a kid.
I love taking pictures and while I was out walking a couple of days back, I took some shots of what I refer to as “Around my yard” on Instagram. You can follow @SouthernCharmPlanner if you are interested. There is a sunny shot of a beautiful Red Maple tree in my front yard and then a shot from a different angle on a cold and cloudy day. I love the contrast of the bare Crepe Myrtles and the Red Maple in the background along with the gray sky.
I also took a few shots of my front porch, along with some of the bird nests in the trees in our yard.
Other than a favorite of mine, Homemade Hot Chocolate, that’s about it for now. Hope to see you again next week! Please feel free to comment about your week.
Here are few more of the chicken and pet pictures. Enjoy!
My dad passed away Tuesday evening at the age of 84. He had been struggling for a while, suffering from Alzheimer’s, Dementia, and Parkinson’s. The one person who should have been holding the family together, was more instrumental in tearing it apart so that now we are a family divided.
The last time I visited with my dad was this summer. He didn’t seem to know who I was. He still looked well and I felt good about my visit with him. That was the last time I saw him. I know that as time marched on, his condition deteriorated and I chose not to visit. While some may view this as a cop-out, I look at it as self-preservation. The family drama also made visits difficult.
I lost a sister fifty years ago to Leukemia. I was 5 and Debbie was 7. I remember some things as though it happened yesterday. It was an event in my life that changed me forever. I do not deal very well with losing people. I know that it’s part of life; just not one that I deal with very well.
I’ve been through a lot of loss in my life, beginning when I was very young. The last, and most devastating loss was during my divorce from my children’s father. That was 18 years ago. Although they are blissfully unaware of what transpired (the therapist said I protected them too much) and how things have progressed to where they are now, it was through manipulation called Parental Alienation Syndrome. That’s the problem with PAS. Children do not normally realize what happened until sometimes many years in to adulthood and they get angry any time it is mentioned. Sometimes much too late to reconcile with the alienated parent.
This is a loss I wake up with every day of my life. While we bury some of our loved ones, grieve, and somehow manage to move on with life, this is different. It is a loss of a loved one every day and you continue to grieve, but not move on.
My Dad wasn’t perfect. None of us are. But, he was a good dad. He was a State Trooper for many years and because the pay was extremely low, he sometimes worked three jobs to support his family. If I had a “situation” he was there to fight my battles, to defend me. He sewed my broken bra straps. He dried my tears. When I needed a bug collection for science class, he helped me catch the bugs and then he carefully preserved them and mounted them inside of a glass case that he built for me.
He built two wooden shadow boxes and hinged them together. It had a handle and a latch and looked like a wooden briefcase. Inside each side he mounted styrofoam board with my bugs and installed glass over each side. It was the best in the school. While others mounted their bugs on poster board, my dad helped me mount them in first class. I was teased unmercifully, but like Dolly Parton’sCoat of Many Colors, that bug case was made with more love and attention that most kids get in a lifetime.
There was a Christmas when I received a little keyboard and I learned to play the Blue Danube. He was so proud. Anyone who came to the house had to listen to me play! I remember my dad singing all of us to sleep with Red River Valley. I also remember him keeping a little jar of lemon drops on the dresser and we were forbidden to enter my parents bedroom. We’d go to bed and listen to make sure they were in the kitchen and one of us would sneak into the room and take a couple of lemon drops. He never said anything about the missing lemon drops, although I’m sure he knew we took them.
He passed on his love of German Shepherds to me. He accepted me as the person I am. I am proud to have had him as my dad.
When my dad began feeling the effects of his illness, he mention two things that he wanted to do. One was visit the State Police Academy and the second was to visit his hometown of Olla, Louisiana. My husband (also a retired trooper) made arrangements to take him on a tour of the academy and he had the opportunity to sit in the Colonel‘s chair. He enjoyed his day tremendously and I was so blessed to have this time with him. The second in command presented him with two State Police medallions and when we returned home, I printed a photo of the old academy and of him in the Colonel’s chair and framed it along with the medallions. He loved to look at it everyday and tell the story. I regret that his health soon declined and we never had the chance to take him to Olla.
My dad had retired from the State Police by the time my second daughter was born, but when my first-born was little, he loved driving up to my house and putting the lights on for her. She would stand in the window and clap her hands. She adored her grandpa and he her. She was the first grandchild and the darling of his eye. He often picked her up and took her home with him.
While I miss my dad terribly, I know he is in a better place. A place where he can no longer hear the drama and manipulation around him. A place where he can now hold the child he lost so many years ago. That brings peace to my heart and I feel more happiness than sorrow. I’ve had him all these years and now my sister will have her turn in eternity. That makes me happy.
Those thoughts will carry me through his wake and funeral. I’ll grieve but it will be bittersweet. Goodbye for now my wonderful Dad. You were here for me when I needed you and I will miss you. Enjoy your life in eternity.
As the days are slowing creeping by, more memories have been floating around and I wanted to add them to this post, mostly for myself, but I also thought you might enjoy them as well.
When I posted on Facebook – what did we do before Facebook – to let my friends know that my dad had passed away, they began sharing memories of their own, which in turn, brought back memories for me.
There were times when I was stopped by policemen and didn’t understand why. I was always told I was going too fast, when I was pretty sure I had not been. Years later, I found out the reason. My dad, who was a State Trooper at the time would occasionally come across other law enforcement officer’s children who were speeding. He had a habit of following the kids home or driving them home, if need be, and standing there while they admitted to their parents that they had been driving way too fast, or were inebriated. Turns out, it wasn’t always appreciated by the parents. Also turned out, I was an easy target. I drove to school my senior year and like most places with one highway, it was easy to spot your target. While it bothered me at the time, I’m pretty proud that my dad tried to take the better road by trying to help these fellow classmates out rather than plopping them in jail. I can only imagine the retaliation I would have received if that had happened.
My high school boyfriend said there were many scary moments with my dad (I think I may remember more than my fair share – blushing here) but the one he really remembers is when he hit a parked car as he was driving past my house – about 15 miles away from where his father thought he was.
Another school mate admitted that my dad had stopped him for speeding and he must have been singing my praises (he was a friend) because being my friend got him out of a ticket.
I guess those were the good old days with such simple stories. My little group of friends and I were the goody two-shoes as the saying goes. Our idea of trouble was stopping in a curve on the “back road” and running into the graveyard to touch a grave. Of course, it was Deadman’s Curve where the groom was racing to see why his bride had been delayed and they crashed head-on. Doesn’t everyone have a story like this?
My dad’s CB handle was the Toy Maker. He carried his wooden toys that he made in a box in his police unit. When I was expecting my first daughter, he built a cradle for her. It is a work of art. He later made replicas for both of my daughter’s for their dolls. I have a toy train that runs around my Christmas tree each year.
I’m not calling this post finished because I know there are lots of memories that I will remember. Hope you enjoyed some of them.
This is where life happens in the South, or at least some of it.
My porch is not a fancy porch; it is simply my go-to place, my sanctuary; a place to “catch a breeze”.
There is a swing at one end where I sit while my thoughts find form. For the hot summer days that sometimes reach into the high 90s, there’s a Southern Breeze maker – a fan. Here in the South, we make our own breeze more often than not.
The porch is in need of washing for as soon as the mildew has been scrubbed away, it begins to form again. The floor shows the marks of Sentry, a pet, taking a running start and flying off the end in an attempt to avoid landing in the azaleas that line the porch. More marks are noticeable from Calypso, another pet, chasing her tail. Taking up space is a plant bench that my husband made for a daughter. I’m sure she’ll be by at some point to reclaim it, but until then I’ve piled it high with plants; plants I forget to water.
Two rockers take up residence on the front porch, their red surface marred by the chew marks made by Calypso as a puppy. They sport by contrast, fading yellow putty in need of paint. Across the front steps is a double gate; installed in an attempt to keep our two German Shepherds, Ryka and Calypso, off of the porch. Most days, it swings in the breeze as I am not diligent about securing it. I find it comforting to look up and see one, if not both of my dogs, napping at the front door in an attempt to be near me. Some days, all I see is a blur, as they have left their mark, nose prints on the glass, as they have sat watching my every move inside.
We have plans for the front porch. Much discussion flowed about the pros and cons of putting the screening on the inside or the outside of the railings. The porch railings have gone up without the screen. Louvers will eventually be built and installed at either end of the porch for privacy. Landscape will be cut back and the steps widened to accommodate the double screen doors that will be installed.
Until that time, the front porch is a place to sit and relax. It is a place to dream of the future and contemplate the mistakes of the past. It is a place to drift in time as we Southerners are known to do.
Never let it be said that life around me is dull; I’ll just make my own fun. Yesterday was mow the yard day. Trawling season here in South Louisiana opened so Hubby was occupied for the day and I was looking for something to do.
Ryka and Calypso love to ride the new mower so after all was said and done (the yard mowed) it was have some fun time. I pulled up to the kennel and cut the blade, and they both came running out, actually stumbling over each other in their haste to see who was going to climb up on the mower first. This surprised me as Ryka doesn’t seem to trust me. She’ll ride with Hubby, but is quite hesitant if given the opportunity to ride with me. Kind of makes you wonder…but Calypso? Now, that is a throw-back to the 1960s. She is the wild child and doesn’t think twice about anything. She leaps without looking. It’s all about fun.
Now, you may think I’m a little crazy because how do I know what my dogs are thinking? Clearly, if that’s the case, you don’t have a dog (and not everyone wants a dog). Ryka is the regal one. She sits like a queen, acts like a queen, gets treated like a queen. Of course, she’s earned it. She came to us fully trained, but sadly only listens part of the time. When I call her, she sometimes just sits there and looks at me. Just like a teenager! I’ll tell her to “come” again and she’ll put her head down and give me the sad eye look. Generally, the third time I call her, she’ll slowly drag her body up – like it’s a huge chore – and walk on over, hoping there will at least be food. On the other hand, if she thinks there’s a belly rub coming, she’ll flip over in a nano second.
Calypso – what can I say? She’s the wild child. She’s half Ryka’s age at 3 and has Doggie ADD. She loves spring – she loves any season. She loves the cold and wet and mud in the winter. She loves the cool days of fall and spring. But, she especially loves the summer months with swimming and bugs. Actually, she loves water period. She loves chasing anything that flies by. I love sitting on the porch swing watching her run back and forth. If you’ve ever watched a cutting horse, you’ll understand. She is very graceful. She runs and cuts and heads back and spins on a dime. Shepherds are very powerful animals and to watch her run and gain speed and cut is actually quite a beautiful dance. What is particularly interesting to watch is when a mosquito hawk (dragon-fly) lands on the chain link fence. She does a series of tapping with her back legs until she gets her position just right and then up she goes on those hind legs and grabs the bug without ever touching the fence – that is grace. Then, in a New York second she’ll bite your finger trying to get her doggie cookie – we’re working on that one. I can feed her ham or cheese and she is quite careful about nibbling it out of my fingers as not to bite (I’m constantly trying their patience on that one so they remember not to bite the hand that feeds them), but if I have a dog cookie, she’ll take my fingers off in the process. I’m still scratching my head on that one.
Signs have been popping up all over the parish (we are in Louisiana) in the shape of forks. It’s all about tourism. I was at a meeting focusing on our Parish Comprehensive Plan (I’m on the Planning Commission) and there was talk about a new fork that had popped up. To us, who live here on the bayou, it depicts a little humor. It is so often the answer when someone is asking directions – “It’s up the bayou” or “It’s down the bayou.” It is a phrase I even find myself using it quite a bit. I’m a transplant to the area and never gave it a second thought until one of my daughters asked me – “How do you know what is up the bayou and what is down the bayou?” I guess it’s one of those relevant things – if you are here, that’s up and that’s down. Move a little and what was up is now down, or visa versa. Anyway, I thought you might enjoy the sign and a little trivia. This particular sign can be found once you exit the interstate, (which crosses Bayou Lafourche) and you circle around to Louisiana Hwy. 1 which runs with the bayou. Instead of Raceland or Lockport, it just simply states “Up the Bayou” or “Down the Bayou.” You have only those two choices.
I did have a little excitement this week. I attended a meeting and then headed off to grocery shop. My habit is to put my keys in my pocket when I exit my vehicle and then lock the doors. That way, I NEVER forget my keys. There’s that word I NEVER try to use because it always comes back to bite you – NEVER! About half way through shopping I happened to run my hand down my side and realized in a panic that I didn’t feel my keys. At that point I tore my bag apart searching, hoping frantically that I had tossed them inside. No keys.
I did my best to calm down and then began praying in earnest. I completed my shopping and retraced my steps back to the truck. No keys. At this point I was beginning to panic. I stepped up to the window and there on the console were my keys and after my initial excitement, I realized they were locked in and I was locked out. And, to make it worse, Hubby was at a meeting 40 miles away and that person had picked him up at our house – 15 miles “down the bayou” and that is where his set of keys to my truck were. Not a good situation and to make matters worse, it was 6:00, the time his meeting was set to begin. I was quickly adding up the miles involved to get my truck opened – 40 + 15 “down” + 15 “up” + 40 back to the meeting = I had better find another way into the truck.
Then I remembered – ONSTAR!!! Then, I thought oh no, how do I call OnStar? I am one of those people – the one who is so organized, she panics that maybe that is the one time the information won’t be found. I did have my phone and I called. The kind lady asked how could she help and of course, being me, I told her my keys were locked in my truck and I was locked out of the truck. The whole process took less than three minutes. I gave her the needed information and she told me to step away from the truck and the locks popped up. Magic! Needless to say, there was a whole lot of prayer thanking going on.
I’m sure those weren’t all of my adventures, but I think I’ve blocked the rest out. See you next week!
I’ve been kind of missing in action lately, but I’m back. Hope there is someone out there that noticed, after all, we all like to know we’ve been missed.
My husband has been suffering with a neck injury with different diagnosis coming in from a chiropractor, a PCP, a doctor of physical medicine, and now a physical therapist. One was insistent that cracking the neck and back was going to fix it. While I didn’t agree with the method, I was willing to support my husband’s choice to try non-evasive first (although in my opinion, that constitutes evasive). With that treatment ending and the symptoms worsening, we then took it to the next level and medical doctors. We know there is arthritis in his neck, but none of this was explaining the numbness and pain radiating down his arm.
After x-rays and an MRI, we are now in physical therapy and at least things are beginning to make sense. The therapist was able to isolate the nerve causing the pain and some interesting things have begun to happen. Hopefully, improvements will follow. Seems between the two of us, we’ve been making a few too many trips into New Orleans to Ochsner.
Physical therapy is proving to be quite the interesting journey. Luckily, we found a wonderful therapist who doesn’t mind being asked questions and explaining everything going on. I have been known to irritate even the nicest of doctors with my questions. I never left the “why” stage behind. She would do something and I’d ask what she was doing, why she was doing it, and what she hoped the outcome would be. I was very impressed because she is very open with us. She is also confident that the nerve is not permanently damaged and she can restore what has been damaged through treatment. After three months of horrible pain, it is nice to see Hubby finding some relief. The physical therapist also uses dry needling and that is interesting.
I only have one comment. If that is how women act when they are PMSing, geez, no wonder we get on everyone’s last nerve!
Our latest trip into New Orleans this week was for follow-up blood work and an ultra-sound for me. The numbers having to do with my liver and gall bladder were elevated. I have two rare blood disorders and have blood work done every six months to monitor my elevated red cell count and platelet count. Those numbers are elevated, but within the same high range they have been for a year. I have to admit that if I get another tech that hurts me the way this one did, I’m calling for someone new. I have a huge bruise on my arm. She stuck me and then moved the needle around for a while (which, by the way I could feel) before she managed to hit the vein. I don’t watch, but I could feel it and it hurt. I told Hubby he needs to be my advocate next time and instead of watching, needs to stop them. He said had she moved it one more time, he had decided that he was going to stop her and call for someone new.
On the bright side, I did a little shopping this month and bought some cool stuff. I’ll be sharing those goodies throughout the week. First up are my little books from May Designs. I have recently returned to journaling and a pretty book is always enticing and I love these. I also have one for the Facebook group 360/30. The group gives a month’s worth of thought-provoking prompts at the beginning of each month. And I use the third for my medical records.
And where do you put such pretty little books? Well – in a pretty little pouch. I found these cute Hadaki bags on-line. It came in a set of two, one of which was the perfect size for my little books, along with a pretty colored pen for each book. You’ll come to notice I’m more than a little obsessed with pretty pouches. I have amassed quite a collection through the years and I love mixing them up and using them for different purposes. One can never have too much pretty pretty.
I recently found a couple of shopping apps and I’ve been trying them out. You receive a list of items each week and if you purchase any of them, you can earn money back. It isn’t always items I use, but I’ve managed to rack up about $4 for just buying what I already buy. One is Checkout 51 and the second is Ibotta. I think they are available for both iPhone and Android.
I also use Grocery IQ as my grocery list app. It is connected with Coupon.com and I was able to utilize a few coupons there as well. One was for antiperspirants. It’s no secret that I love my Secret – unscented that is. When I sweat I do not want to smell like baby powder sweat, or citrus sweat. Anyone else with me? Well, being Southern I suspect that if I am invited on a picnic – and sweat – those in attendance will sniffing the air to see who smells like the Ambrosia (with a twist of sweat.) My new deodorant, thanks to a coupon, is Secret Citrus (I kid you not!) I truly just do NOT want to smell like something when I sweat. The best case scenario would be to not smell, but do you really want to smell like Spring – with a touch of sweat? Who thinks up these fragrances? We truly need to have a sit down with them – and soon.
We had a little family drama this week as well. If you follow my blog, you know that I adore my German shepherds. Ryka never darts out in front of the truck when we come through the gate, but this time she did. I had just closed one gate after Hubby came through and was starting to close the second when I looked up and saw Ryka start to cross in front of him. It happened so fast. The truck bumper hit and flipped her and then she rolled to a stop as Hubby did, right against the tire.
I did what any good Southern lady would do. I let out a blood curdling scream. Jamie Curtis in Halloween doesn’t have anything on me! I think I frightened Ryka more than getting hit by the truck did, but thankfully, she got up and walked away. I still shudder when I think about it. I was quite upset the entire afternoon and that night I spent about an hour just cuddling and playing and rubbing them before I came inside.
I was always concerned about Calypso because she insists on running down the drive in front of the truck and escorting us to the garage. Before the truck, we had a suburban and we could at least see her ears as she galloped along. The truck is so high, she would have to be a horse to be seen. Ryka always lagged behind and this was completely out of character for her. As they say, “All’s good in Hollywood,” at least momentarily.
WHAT!? You say? No. I didn’t get flowers. I didn’t get candy. Those are all items easily picked up at the market while frantically trying to get home in time for a romantic dinner before Valentine’s Day goes to hell in a hand basket.
What I did get for Valentine’s Day is love. And why is that enough? I’ve had the fake flowers and the fake candy – the items grabbed in a rush because it is what you’re supposed to do. I’ll take true love any day.
Hubby likes to say that everyday is Valentine’s Day because we live in Valentine. We really do – Valentine, Louisiana, a little settlement along a lazy bayou. And, it is Valentine’s Day everyday – except for when it’s not, we all have those days.
Hubby got up bright and early to go fishing this morning. He has been so busy building a house (he’s in construction) that he hasn’t had the time to just relax and let his mind wander a bit. So, he loaded up the boat and went fishing. Why does it not bother me that instead of spending today with me, his wife, he is out in a boat? Because it makes me happy to know he’s finally relaxing a little. That is what love is about. That is what Valentine’s Day is about.
I’d rather have a Husband, who when the water lilies are in full bloom and floating by the wharf, leans precariously over the water and snags a few of the beautiful purple blooms – because he knows how much I love them rather than one that grabs a bouquet at the market at the last second. Being thought of is Valentine’s Day.
I’d rather have a Husband, who when it is very cold outside, lets my two German Shepherds into the garage for a warm night’s sleep because he knows how much it would mean to me (without being begged to.)
I’d rather have a Husband that takes the time during running errands and says let’s stop for burgers at the Goal Post (a little drive-in) than one who takes me to a crowded restaurant just because it’s February 14th.
I’d rather have a Husband who takes a look at my dirty truck (yes, I have a truck) and sneaks out to wash it to surprise me.
I’d rather have a Husband, who just this morning, grabbed a plain sheet of writing paper, and left me a beautiful note saying how much I mean to him, rather than grabbing the first acceptable card from a rack.
I’d rather have a Husband who comes and sits on the porch swing in the evenings with me, rather than watching Gilligan’s Island.
Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day and I didn’t get flowers. What I do get is Valentine’s Day – every day – in Valentine, Louisiana.
Happy Valentine’s Day – every day – to my Husband. Love you to the moon and back!
How do I start except for saying my poor dog. First, she fell off of the wharf on Sunday and last night she got locked in my husband’s workshop for the night. I was teaching religion and while I was gone, it started thundering, which Sentry is deathly afraid of, so she kept following my husband, Jeffery, in and out of his workshop. Once she observes a routine, she becomes complacent so she must have stayed inside for a while and when he closed up, she got locked in. That was around 7pm last night because that’s when I drove up and I assumed she was under the house because of the rain.
This morning I went out to walk and I called and called and rang the bell – no Sentry. I looked under the house, in her house, in the barn – no Sentry. By this time I am getting frantic (remember, I am SO good in a crisis) and I am almost in tears telling hubby that he has to come and help me because I can’t find her. THEN, the idea came to me that she may be in the workshop (has happened before) and so I knocked on the door and she started whimpering. She doesn’t bark when I call her; which I do not understand. It would make my life so much easier. I wouldn’t have to panic quite as often.
When I opened the door and out she ran, she followed my trail back and forth and round and round before she came to me. That trail was a definite indication of how frantic I was quickly becoming. She is perfectly fine now but probably won’t go in to the workshop for a while. Getting back to our Sunday event when Sentry toppled off of the wharf – what a frantic time again! My husband and I were sitting in the swing on the wharf enjoying the slight breeze and peacefulness. Sentry was lying in her usual spot – the edge of the wharf – watching the fish jump and the minos swim by. She is fascinated by them. It all happened so quickly that I’m not sure what exactly happened, but the next thing I knew is that she was in the bayou! She just seemed to roll right off of the wharf and SPLASH!
Of course, I am sooooooo very helpful in a crisis. I did the only thing I could think of – I started screaming! Now, we all know how much that helped. My husband was sitting right next to me – I am fairly certain my screaming did nothing to alert him to what he had already ascertained – the dog was in the water. Now most people probably wouldn’t panic. They know dogs can swim but you have to remember – this is MY dog and she’s never been in anything deeper than the ten inch ditch in the back yard; and that, she just splashes in. She still had her leash on – thank goodness – so we (make that hubby, not screaming me) were able to guide her around the pilings and the crab trap and the fishing line, 20 feet down the wharf to ground. None the worse for wear, she shook a few times and went right back to her spot, you guessed it, on the edge of the wharf.
Fortunately, life went quickly back to normal and we went back to swinging. (Little did I know that there would soon be another crisis…….)
Is that a catchy title that makes you want to read this post? No. I guess not. But, in my defense, my brain is a little fried from doing the number thing all day. My business computer crashed a couple of weeks ago and spent some time visiting the Geek Squad. While it was having a vacation, I was having to pay bills and conjure up make-shift invoices.
Now, the computer is back, safe and sound, and with its data fully restored which means I’ve been hard at work inputting numbers and more numbers, and did I say NUMBERS?!! I am a confessed numberfobic (I think I just invented that word.) I do not even count change, I break a dollar – yes, I am one of those. Please do not ask me to do math without a calculator and someone to help. Seriously!
Did I mention I had my computer back with all its data? I think I did. That’s all it had. I’m not complaining, well, maybe a little. It has been an adventure to say the least to get my computer up and running – even with all its data. I had data, but no Quickbooks to pull the data into any order. I had data, but no Microsoft Word, in which to read the data. I was on a mad hunt for several days trying to locate a Microsoft Office 2007, which is the only thing that would work on my computer. Someone finally located one for me on eBay and it is now ensconced on my computer and I’ve been updating lease agreements and excel spreadsheets for the past two long days.
Considering the amount of time that I spent googling trying to find something compatible (I can beat a dead horse like nobody’s mama), please do me a favor and do not tell me of an easier way that I could have installed or located Microsoft Office. I truly do NOT want to know. It would NOT make my day.
I digress. Getting back to the topic at hand – time management – it sort of worked today, or would have worked today – had it not been for Hubby needing to stop at the bank on his way to the job site, and him not deciding that until this morning. So, instead of getting up at my set time and doing my morning routine before sitting down at the computer, I was immediately thrust into a work environment and have been there ever since.
Since I spent most of the day doing business work and not writing, I am taking a break and writing. It is so nice to be finished with numbers for a couple of days – it’s Southern Louisiana and if you haven’t heard, we are in the midst of a winter storm. This is unusual for this part of the country, so the area is virtually shut-down – at least says the sheriff and parish president.
There is a curfew and I think the only reason people are adhering to the curfew is because it is actually frigid outside. People are out in hurricanes around here so you can safely say it must be the cold keeping them in. Even my two German Shepherds are nesting down in the garage. They wouldn’t even go out to potty!
Texting and Facebook and Tweeting haven’t taken a break though! I’ve had friends and family texting videos and pictures of snow to me all day long. lt’s a virtual winter wonderland elsewhere while here it is a sleeting frozen mess. That’s how I know I’m finished with numbers (did I mention how much I hate numbers?) for a couple of days. No one is going anywhere, unless it’s an emergency.
UPS dropped a pillow off yesterday. Keep up now. I change subjects fast – whether writing or talking (ask anyone who knows me. It doesn’t mean I’m not waiting for your answer, because I am, but while I wait I have a hundred other things I need to say.) I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I had ordered that could come in such a big box. Turns out it was a pillow, a heavy pillow. I had forgotten that a company had contacted me to review their pillow. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to review products on my blog, but after they contacted me for the fourth time, I figured why not. It’s a free pillow and the emails will stop. I have to admit, I will be reviewing this pillow. I had the best night’s sleep last night – ever. (So companies? Keep those request coming in.)
I normally sleep on a feather pillow. I love to punch and push and fluff my pillow and then sink into it to sleep. I am hard on pillows. This is a pillow that is made of rubber pieces and made to feel like a feather pillow – only much MUCH heavier. I smashed and punched and fluffed and then sank into it for a great night’s sleep. I like this pillow. So…I’ll be promoting this pillow quite soon!
My electric blanket quit working this fall, or more accurately, my control (dual controls) stopped working. I have always been very careful with the controls, making sure they didn’t knock against the bed posts (four poster bed), etc. Then, one day it happened. The control literally barely knocked the bed post. Evidently, it was looking for a reason to take a nice long rest because it quit working.
The blanket is old enough now that replacement controls are non-existent – so says the abrupt woman who answered the phone at the company I called. She then informed me I could purchase the same product directly from them for a cheaper price that I could purchase the same blanket (which they sold) from Lands’ End. She was a little pushy and asked me why would I want to purchase from LE when she would give me the website and a 20% coupon off of a new blanket. Because of her attitude, I was really leaning toward hanging up the phone not ordering the product, but I took down the information and headed over to the website to check out the products.
I’m kind of glad I did. Instead of purchasing another blanket, I purchased an electric heated mattress pad. Oh My Goodness! This is so much better than a blanket. Because the heat is between you and the mattress, once you turn it off, you stay warm ALL night. Seriously! The blanket always cooled off quickly and I am thinking it is because it is exposed to the cool air. I look forward to going to bed at night when it’s cold. The heated pad also acts like a heating pad and that feels great on my back.
That’s about it for me today. Tomorrow, I am back on the wagon as far as the Time management Schedule. I really enjoyed my schedule on Monday. I had my day mapped out and it wasn’t stressful. I was able to accomplish everything I wanted to, even with the chaos caused by the business I had to take care of.
Hubby has just finished peeling and chopping apples. I think I’m being summoned to the kitchen to cook something good, so that’s it for tonight.
How’s the weather in your neck of the woods? I just love when readers leave a comment, so feel free to say hello!
In the event you are interested in purchasing an electric blanket or mattress pad, this is the information I used. I am not affiliated with the company, nor do I receive a commission. I just like the product – so far.