Take a moment and think back to when you were a kid. How much time did you spend out-of-doors? If you were like me, the answer is “a lot!” And, although I grew up in a Colorado suburb, we always had a yard and a neighborhood and, as I got older, various parks and edges around town to explore and spend time in. I still remember reluctantly being called into the house, long after dark, on many hot summer evenings longing to remain outside.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” So begins the novel, “A Tale of Two Cities”. But this is a story about two cats—cats with very different life stories, who are now living in “the best of times,” in spite of uncertain beginnings and ongoing challenges.
I think my approach to flower gardening is fairly typical among those who live in northern climes-- once winter’s hold is broken, approach gardening with robust abandon! Then, as the days get longer and summer rolls along, garden less and less, in direct proportion to whatever minimum effort is needed to keep the weeds at bay. Don’t get me wrong—I love my garden and, at a minimum, I visit it every day. But gardening is a lot of work and summer beckons with
Driving out the road on this snowy day, a sentimental country Christmas song came on the radio, "The Christmas Shoes." It had a catchy tune, so I listened a bit…little did I know that it would so quickly transport me back to another time.
"It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line
Trying to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood
Some moments in our lives stay with us, reappearing in our consciousness again and again. This entry is about one of those moments in my life from several years ago. While I don’t think about these events often, when I do, they are as vivid as when they happened.
“Nothing you have ever witnessed before has prepared you for the sheer stabbing shock,” so declared a poster for Alfred Hitchcock’s iconic movie, “The Birds”. Strong words for cinema that would now seem tame compared to recent fare. And yet, there is something about nature gone awry that still strikes deep.
I love happy endings and I love animals. Stories about homeless animals that find good homes are, to me, picture perfect moments. It is in that spirit that I regularly write "Happy Tail" stories for the Gastineau Humane Society (GHS). Each story features an animal adopted from there. Both the GHS and the Juneau Empire have generously agreed that this blog is also an appropriate place to further share these stories. Here is the most recent, Maya's story.
Today is my father’s 92nd birthday. Our birthday celebration will have to wait a couple more weeks because my dad is currently in Texas for a month, training field trial dogs with my stepmother. If anyone feels well enough to be on a road trip in their nineties, more power to them!
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