Someone's Little Girl

Vegas & Molly are back in Iowa and I am visiting family in Florida, my hometown. There is a palm tree outside of the window and a tropical depression begin to rumble through. I love spending time with my parents and brother. My heart swells to three times its normal size, just like in the book “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”. Last night we sat around the table with my cousin and his lovely wife eating what we normally eat on Christmas Eve – conch chowder. Cuban bread, homemade cookies, laughing and I just felt warm all over.

Black Bart, Sammy and Becky all live here with the humans. Bart (real name Bear) looks like a bear. Becky, also a rescue, furrows her brows and looks very worried. She would wear glasses if dogs wore glasses. Sammy is a chocolate lab and like most chocolate labs is sweet as the day is long but isn’t the sharpest pencil in the box. In this way, he is like his cousin Vegas. We have had two sweeeeming sessions and lots of treats. I, being the doting Aunt, like to hand out kibbles and treats all day long so as to bribe my way into the heart. Or stomach as it goes.

I’m a nester by nature and am happiest closest to the hearth. I’m going through cookbooks and catalogs with my Mom. She is going to cook a prime rib on Sunday because I won’t be here on Christmas to enjoy it and she knows it is one of my favorites.

I spend my days in Iowa attempting to be a responsible Golden Retriever, paying a mortgage, playing nice and not biting anyone.

But some days, it is ever so sweet to be someone’s little girl again.

Peaceful

I loved the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. I can see vividly the wagons and the paths they carved as they rolled across the prairie. Some ruts can be cozy and comforting.

Don't get me wrong, I am always up for the unexpected car ride or walk in the park but for the most part, I find comfort in little day to day patterns, the assurance that Molly will wake me up with a gentle lick and Vegas will gently roll her head into my thighs for the morning ear rub.

I find the quiet moments of life often the most rewarding. There is a new bird bath that is fairly overflowing from all the recent rain. There are six bird feeders, one suet feeder and one bird bath in our small yard. Bird feeders may seem like a cruel joke to someone with two bird dogs but birds and dogs seem to live in peace for the most part.

Tonight I will sit on the back step of my little red brick patio and watch the sparrows and cardinals delight with the fruit and nut feed. Vegas will roll in the dirt and wait for Lily the cat. Molly will eat the bird seed that falls to the ground. We will be content and at peace.

Tonight I hope your peaceful place finds you.

The Old Blue Sofa

Today we say good-bye to my parent's old blue sofa.

My parents old blue sofa isn't blue anymore. It isn't actually my parent's either - it lives with me in Iowa now. The sofa has been part of our family longer than I have been alive. Vegas and Molly sleep on it and watch for us on it.

It is a great napping couch - the kind that envelopes you because the springs and cushions are worn. I remember sitting on it with my Grandpa when he read me bed time stories. I had to sit very still and act more like a little girl than a Golden Retriever (which was not easy). Vegas is not the only girl that knows how to do the Squirmy Worm. My brothers and I used to sit on the couch on Christmas morning while Dad sat under the Christmas tree handing out presents in his bright yellow robe reminding us to save the tags (for writing thank you notes).

I have t-shirts from runs that I did fifteen years ago and I know exactly where I was when I did the run and who was waiting for me at the finish line. I have dishes that belonged to my grandmother and I use every one of them. Nini's kitchen smelled like oranges, fresh brewed coffees and gardenias (from her garden in Florida). There are dish towels and jelly jars, spoons and crocks that keep my mother with me in my kitchen. I open my pantry and see jar of chili sauce we canned together last year as she told me about her grandmother.

I am always afraid that if I let the stuff go, then I will lose the memory or the person attached to the memory.

My blessing is much bigger than the old blue sofa. I will keep the memories and love because at the end of the day that's what it is all about - love. A family that filled me with memories of love, and joy and fun; A family that loved me so much they made me a Golden Retriever.

Sights Unseen

Vegas has a passport, of sorts. It resides folded within my own and provided proof to the officials in Niagara Falls that Vegas was in fact an American dog and up to date on all her vaccinations. I have no criminal past, nor does Vegas but I have never passed through customs without assuming that I was going to get in trouble and be thrown in jail. Vegas has never acted guilty of anything, even when she was.

Vegas loved the Falls. She took her big lion shaped paws and placed them on the cement wall, lifted herself up to look at the water falling down (see above) and looked upon the loud blue water with the same delight as the rest of us two legged tourists. Her picture above is of her staring at the Falls.

Fall has no longer teased us with its appearance but has arrived in all earnest. The humidity is gone, the screen doors are letting the warm breezes through and the leaves are starting to change colors and twirl off the trees. The weather we are having now is what this Iowa girl used to call winter when she lived in Fort Lauderdale. It is glorious.

Vegas and I can't stop smiling. We love having family visit. We love watching the birds at the feeder and the feel of the change of season. We love looking at the old pictures and remembering the trip to Buffalo. We cleaned the kitchen window and the sun is shining through and lighting the wood floor.

All is well.