tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13139201911653863262024-03-13T19:09:34.497-05:00Magnolia"Run where you'll be safe,
through the garden gates,
to the shelter of magnolias."
-The Hush SoundMitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-48069358766910648522019-06-21T08:02:00.001-05:002019-06-21T08:03:29.284-05:00The Longest Day<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I was clueless.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">One year ago today, June 21, the first day of summer, the longest day of the year, I had no idea what life had in store for me. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Perry and I arrived at a beach in the Wilmington, N.C. area for the first night of our anniversary vacation. We had an oceanfront condo so close to the waves you could throw a rock from the balcony and hit water. It was very hot, but we got settled, went to dinner, and watched fireworks on the shore. It was a great start to the trip.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I was blissfully unaware that my mom would pass away unexpectedly that night from cardiac arrest at the age of 69.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The next morning, June 22, my Apple Watch started ringing. Early. I looked to see Uncle Jim's name come across the screen. Half asleep, I hit whatever button would make the noise stop and rolled over. That’s weird, I thought, I don’t think Jim's ever called me before. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I got up to find my phone charging in the living room. A little more alert, and with a feeling of dread, I called Jim back. Not only did he never call me, but it was 5 a.m. in Indiana. Way too early for good news.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">“Mitzi, I got some bad news," he said.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">“Okay," I replied.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">“Your mom passed away last night," he choked out.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Silence.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">“What?” I said in disbelief.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I don’t remember much more of the conversation, besides sobbing uncontrollably and telling Jim I would call him back when I got myself together. All of this made Perry yell, “What is it? What is it?” I told him, then we collapsed into a heaping mess of tears.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">From that point on, it was a race to get home with a flurry of decisions to make. Should I fly and he drive up with the dogs later? Should I drive in with the dogs and he fly up later? We were four hours from our home in Charlotte, and our dogs were boarded there. The trip to Mom and Dad’s was another nine hours.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">In the end, we decided to go home to Charlotte, get the dogs, repack, and hit the road north. It took most of the day and well into the evening before we rolled in the driveway around 10 p.m. Uncle Paul had stayed with Dad until I arrived. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The next two weeks would be full of revelations as Dad and I adjusted to this strange new world without Mom. With the help of family and friends, we figured out the arrangements and honored her life. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">My three best friends were instrumental in helping me through it all. Sunni read the eulogy I wrote for the service. Rachel also read at the ceremony and watched my every move, making sure I had food or drink or whatever I needed. Joni offered her home as a place to stay as well as a home base for sorting through all of the things that go along with having a funeral. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Members of my extended family pitched in where we needed them. Aunt Dot helped me find a place to have a meal after the service. Uncle Paul and Uncle Joe offered to help with insurance and financial advice going forward. They also informed me that the plots next to my sister, Staci, had been purchased, and Mom could be buried next to her.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The community flooded the funeral home with hugs as well as stories about Mom and how much she meant to them. And, of course, how much I looked like her. Even strangers who just saw her out and about at Walmart, Goodwill, and Nobles paid their respects. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The support was tremendous, and we were grateful to have it. Even though the thank you notes still sit in a box untouched somewhere in my home. For some reason, I could never bring myself to write them.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">So, for me, June 21, the first day of summer, is not the longest day anymore. That was June 22, 2018. Since then, I have cried, smiled, reminisced, laughed, and thought about calling Mom a million times. But I can't. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Instead, I hold on to my memories of her and check on Dad as much as I can. Life must go on, and I'm so glad she gave me one to live.</span></div>
Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-76704268995425539772018-06-28T06:36:00.000-05:002018-06-29T07:35:55.578-05:00Dear Mom<div data-test-id="message-view-body">
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I knew this day would come. I had no idea it would be so soon.</div>
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It still does not seem real. I keep thinking you'll walk through the basement door with bags in hand and stories about who you saw in town. </div>
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I told Perry the other day that I needed to get you down to the beach, at least one more time. You never wanted to step foot in the ocean, but you loved to watch the waves and walk along the sand, especially at night. And it had been so long since you'd seen the coast. </div>
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We once stayed at the Brown Hotel in Louisville, and you read every pamphlet, brochure and binder you could get your hands on in the room. Then you accidentally ordered a movie from the TV remote, and I had to call the front desk to cancel it. You were so embarrassed; you shouted, "Take this thing away from me!"</div>
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I watched you wander about Graceland and take in all things Elvis, one of your favorite singers. I found your admission ticket from that day in your purse, along with your laminated 1971 concert ticket stub. I'm so glad I was able to get you to Memphis.</div>
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I remember things growing up that you probably didn't realize. Like how you warmed my clothes up over the screen in front of the fireplace before school. Or when I was sick, you would tell me, "I wish it was me and not you." </div>
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I loved taking you to concerts and musicals. Watching you watch whatever was happening onstage was the best thing in the world. We sang every song of "Mamma Mia" together and sat in wonder at "Hair" -- wondering if they would go through with the nude scene and how we would react.</div>
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And where would we be without our shared passion for music? I grew up listening to the best stuff because of you: Blondie, ABBA, Elvis, The Beatles, Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen, John Mellencamp, Roy Orbison. I remember the day you came out of the house into the front yard, so excited, saying, "I found out who sings, 'I Won't Back Down', it's Tom Petty!" Hopefully, you've gotten his autograph by now.</div>
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You loved me and Perry so much. You were always giving us gifts year-round, odd and ends that you'd pick up here and there. You gave us things we didn't even realize we wanted or needed. And cards came in the mail throughout the year for Valentine's Day, Easter, Christmas and birthdays. Just to name a few.</div>
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You told people you didn't have grandkids; instead you had granddogs. You got such a kick out of Gizmo, Jack and Smoky, and insisted I didn't feed them enough. They were spoiled with treats and toys. Your face lit up when you saw them.</div>
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You painstakingly took care of Dad for nearly 45 years. It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it. There were good times, and there were bad times. But there was love. I know this to be true. I saw it.</div>
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I wonder what it was like the moment you were reunited with Staci. I can't imagine how happy that must have made you after all of this time. I had 39 years with you; it is her turn now.</div>
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It's time for me to say goodbye and try to move on. The pain is deep, and I don't think I've even begun to explore the depths of it yet. But it was no surprise to me the many, many, many people who have said such nice things to say about you over the last few days.</div>
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You were the cool mom, the funny mom, the kind mom, the smart mom, the Jeep-driving mom, the CD playing mom, the dependable mom, the comforting mom...you were my mom. I love you.</div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">"I've seen fire and I've seen rain, </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again."</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">"Would you know my name, </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">If I saw you in heaven? </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Would it be the same, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">If I saw you in heaven? </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I must be strong and carry on, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven."</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">"Oh, mirror in the sky, </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">What is love? </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Can the child within my heart rise above? </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Can I handle the seasons of my life?"</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">"Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go, </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">You have made my life complete and I love you so. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Love me tender, love me sweet, all my dreams fulfilled, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">For my darling, I love you and I always will."</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">"And when the night is cloudy, </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">There is still a light that shines on me, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Shine until tomorrow, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Let it be, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I wake up to the sound of music, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Mother Mary comes to me, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Speaking words of wisdom, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Let it be."</span></i></div>
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Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-18086728476582597742017-12-31T05:26:00.001-06:002017-12-31T05:29:04.860-06:00Land of the LivingOn January 10, 2011, I started a journey on the road less traveled: night shift. Or at least some version of it. As executive producer of the morning newscast, my schedule was somewhere in the vicinity of 3:00 a.m.-12:00 p.m. but could change to a much earlier start time if I had to fill in as producer. Which happened during sick days, vacations, etc. At any rate, it was quite the adjustment.<br />
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<i>(My move from evening producer to executive producer of the AM show at WFIE)</i></div>
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Fast forward to October 4, 2015, when I started another soon-to-be night shift producer role in a different state, 500+ miles away from home. I had a similar wake up call, anywhere between 10:00 p.m. and 3:00 a.m., sometimes with last minute notice. Plus, it was an overall difficult transition after working at my previous TV station for 11 years.<br />
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<i>(The big move from WFIE in Evansville, IN to WCNC in Charlotte, NC)</i></div>
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The week of January 8, 2018, that will all change. After seven years of an erratic, exhausting and abnormal schedule, I am joining the land of the living. No more trying to adjust to normalcy on the weekends. No more having to take naps on vacation, because I just can't keep up. No more waking up between 3:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. on the days I'm off work, because my brain thinks it's "go time".<br />
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<i>(Exciting day at WCNC, Dale Jr. was a guest on the morning show)</i></div>
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My new gig as digital content producer is at the same station, and it's not 9 to 5, but it's a step in the right direction. It's a familiar role, yet different in so many ways it's already rejuvenated my overall career mindset. I'm beyond excited on all counts. Oh, and I get my full Sunday back.<br />
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<i>(Puppy Bowl 2017, one of my favorite times on the WCNC morning show)</i></div>
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So here's to starting fresh in 2018, and a promise to myself to NEVER EVER go back to the dark side. Yes, free time during the day has its perks, but there's also so much sacrifice that goes along with it. And I have found it's very hard to crawl out of that black hole once you're in it, or I wouldn't have done it for as long as I did.<br />
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Thankfully, I got the chance to make a change, and I've seen the light.<br />
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<br />Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-4798024714196369942017-04-13T14:29:00.001-05:002017-04-13T14:29:40.345-05:00An Off WeekI've been off this week. Not from work. From all of my other obligations. CMS is on spring break. The sorting group at Loaves and Fishes didn't meet today. And I haven't really made going to the shelter much of a habit lately, although I did commit to going in early on Easter Sunday since the staff is off. Other than that, no appointments, no meetings, no nothing.<br />
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I'm also on a different schedule than normal, which has been hard, so it's been nice to sleep when I want. But if I'm not careful, I'll snooze the day away. The first week on this schedule was hell. I could not get on a consistent sleep schedule, and I was burning the candle at both ends. I'm managing it better now, and there is a light at the end of the tunnel.<br />
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So what have I done with myself all week? I slept. I walked the dogs. I read. I rode my bike. I did some yoga. I had lunch and took a stroll with Pmo. I watched T.D. Jakes and Steve Harvey. I listened to podcasts. I might have even watched some Downton Abbey for the millionth time, I can't remember.<br />
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Point is, it's nice to slow down once in awhile and let your options flow. I'm lucky to get one day a week where I haven't committed myself to something, let alone five or six. It's not to say I don't enjoy my commitments. It's just good to breathe. And snore. With no alarm.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-20792248991855048572017-02-22T17:40:00.003-06:002017-02-22T17:40:36.900-06:00Lunch EncounterThe beauty of a city like Charlotte is that it has so much to offer. Shopping, restaurants, bars, breweries... you name it, the Queen City has it. New houses go up every day, the job market is promising. Plus there's plenty of green space: parks, trails, walkways, greenways. You don't really have an excuse to be a couch potato around here. Especially with events that mix the beer with the brawn.<br />
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Yet, the small town girl in me recognizes a good thing when she sees it, even if it's not an urban advantage. Case in point, I tried a new place for lunch today after reading with my CMS student. I crossed the lake over into SC with the intention of getting a smoothie. I ended up instead with a sandwich, chips and a drink... as well as a pickle and a little dab of coleslaw... which I learned come complimentary with the sammie.<br />
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When I walked in, I was instantly greeted by a woman behind the counter with a sweet smile and chomping at the bit to tell me the different breads for my sandwich and an array of drink options. Then I sat at a high top table awaiting my food. The place was not fancy, in fact, the floor looked like it could use some work. But that didn't stop a steady stream of folks from filing in, taking the time to exchange pleasantries before grabbing a bite to eat.<br />
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This simple, everyday experience made me stop and think: I wonder if there are people in CLT who've never ventured out into these smaller communities. Especially those who are from big cities. Oh sure, they go to secluded mountain towns and trendy downtown areas on the outskirts. No, what I'm talking about are these plain old places where people have lived and worked their entire lives. There are no attractions, no hot spots, no claims to fame. Just pure hospitality. <br />
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There's something to be said for the way a lunch lady's smile brightens the day. The way religious music playing off an iPod fills the room with a sense of calm. The way a dab of coleslaw tastes so damn good you wish you could've ordered a tub.<br />
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Then, you see a woman, walking away with the smoothie you should have ordered, whipped cream and all. And it's official: you're definitely coming back. For the treat, and all the feels.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-84792856178076431432017-02-12T14:22:00.000-06:002017-02-12T14:22:22.551-06:00HookedThis has been one warm weekend. In fact, our air conditioner is on right now, in February! That being said, it's been a great two days to get the dogs out.<div>
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On Saturday, we went to the Riverwalk in Rock Hill along the Catawba. Problem is, everyone else did, too. So with the extra people, and Smoky's unpolished public manners, it wasn't that fun. Plus, it's a bit of a drive.</div>
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Today, we went with the sure thing: Copperhead Island. It's five minutes away with a paved loop and plenty of lake views. There we are, on the first leg of the trail, about to come off the fishing deck, when I notice Smoky has picked up something. I see fishing line coming out of his mouth and bend down to get it before he swallows, silly dog. But, oh no, it's not just fishing line. There's a hook at the end of that fishing line. And that hook is stuck through Smoky's tongue.</div>
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I'm calm at first, but as I examine further, it's not just one hook, it's got three prongs with a piece of something stuck on one of them. The reason, I'm guessing, he grabbed it in the first place. Smoky is now trying to get out the hook himself, gagging and licking and wondering why this great treat is hurting him. Then as I try to remove it, he squirms and jumps around even more, becoming most uncooperative. </div>
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Pmo has gone ahead down the trail with the other two dogs so he doesn't have a clue what's going on behind him. Mind you, at this point, I'm still thinking I can handle the situation, so I didn't yell for him. Luckily, a couple we passed earlier on the path has made it to where I am, and they stop to help. </div>
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The man holds Smoky's mouth open to let me get a better look at how to remove the hook. But in all the commotion, I can't tell which way to pull it, and I'm afraid I'm making it worse. I'm still holding myself together, so close to the brink of panic, when the man says, "He can't breathe." </div>
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Now, in hindsight, I don't think this was true. However, it puts the fear of God in me and I start sobbing. Yet, I continue working on the hook. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, I get it out. Smoky returns to normal, even wagging his tail. Knowing him, he probably would have picked it up again if I had let him. And I just keep on crying. </div>
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By this time, Pmo has come back to see what's holding me up. We both thank the man, me through the tears that just won't stop even though it's all over now, and start down the trail once more. I can't wipe my tears because my hands smell so bad I can't bring myself to put them on my face. My nose is also running, and I'm generally out of breath and just a wreck. By the time we reach the other side of the island, though, I calm down a bit and manage to use the underside of my t-shirt to wipe the mascara off my cheeks. We finish the walk, and we go home.</div>
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So that's why I started drinking beer at 2:00 this afternoon. Our youngest scared me to death, and even though I was probably doing my best to help him, it sure as hell felt like I wasn't. But Smoky seems just fine, besides the fact he now has a pierced tongue. The smell on my hands, despite washing them several times, still lingers.</div>
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Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-9442179062678186752017-02-06T14:09:00.004-06:002017-02-06T14:09:41.113-06:00Turn for the WorseI was called into work last night on three hours sleep. The late emergency notice set me back an hour and a half from when I should have started producing an hour newscast. And it was not only the day after the Super Bowl, it was also just a few days into the ratings period. But I managed.<br />
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I was wearing a hoodie and a headband at the office because I showered quickly and got the hell out the door. Toward the end of my shift, I dropped said headband on the floor, then proceeded to accidentally step on it. So I threw it away.<br />
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I was coming down the stairs this morning after I got home and changed clothes, and my fuzzy socks hit just right on the edge of a step. I came down the rest of the way on my bum. And my hands, my arms, my elbows, my love handles... you get the picture, bruises to come, I'm sure. I sat on the landing, stunned by the pain and how quickly it all, literally, went down, then realized nothing was broken. And I got up.<br />
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That's a fine set of how-do-you-dos for a Monday if I ever heard of one.<br />
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The point is, I couldn't control any of those things. Well, the fuzzy socks may now be banned from the stairwell. And I could be more careful with my hair accessories. But in each case, the only thing I could do was react and move on. Or dwell in my bad luck that seemed to be piling upon me.<br />
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I read somewhere once that it's okay to feel the emotion in the moment when things like this happen, whatever it is: anger, frustration, sadness, etc. Recognize it, deal, then let it go. It's dwelling on the bad stuff that gets you down. And keeps you down. Plus, it's such a waste of energy. You could be doing many more worthwhile things, like sleeping. Which I'm about to do.<br />
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That's right. Just as I was writing this, my boss called to tell me I have to go in early again tonight. I have his ringtone set as a nuclear alarm, so I'm already setting myself up for an exasperated sigh and lamenting. But I had my moment of angst, thought about it a bit and now I'm heading to bed.<br />
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Why? Because there's nothing I can do about this turn of events. And I know now I can handle it as well as the next curve ball life throws at me. I couldn't have said that six months to a year ago. Here's to hoping you can also find some solace in a series of unfortunate events. It could always be worse.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-68633193433911612382017-01-06T15:09:00.001-06:002017-01-06T15:09:18.513-06:00CozyI'd have to say I'm fairly cozy today. I was off work so after I took care of some chores, I set off to complete a task that required a bit of a drive and treated myself to lunch somewhere new. Then I refueled at a coffee shop in the hopes of not lapsing into a nap this afternoon. When I got home, I did some more to-do's on the 'ol computer and have continued to sit upstairs in my "office" ever since, frankly because it's warmer up here than downstairs. I've had a shower, my hair is fixed, a rarity if I don't have anywhere to be. And we're about to get a big snow, big at least for this area.<br />
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I watch the comings and goings of the neighborhood out of my window. The mail truck has come and gone. The school bus rolled by, though I don't think it's the last one I'll see this afternoon. I also watch what's happening in this room. My new paw print lamp is lit up. I have a candle burning. Two black dogs are lying right beside my chair, just waiting for me to hit the couch or bed so they can pile on top of me. But because I'm trying not to sleep, and I have on a cream-colored shirt that's currently free of dog hair, I stay seated. I might even move over to my grandma's glider and read a book, still fighting that nap.<br />
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I'm also listening to the news from the bedroom. Another mass shooting. One more reason to get lost in that book. It looks like it's starting to rain now. I can see windshield wipers swaying back and forth on the passing cars. Snowmeggdon is on the way. So is my husband.<br />
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I can hear the laundry downstairs tumbling. When it stops, I'll know it's time to put it away. I hate that part. But it must be done. That's about all that must be done today, if that even. Well, dinner has to be made. Some chicken tortellini, a little garlic bread, small salad and a glass of wine. Or two. And not long after, the sleep monster, he'll come for me when I just can't keep my eyes open anymore.<br />
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Yes, I'd have to say I'm quite cozy today.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-5611377683775518062016-07-24T08:36:00.007-05:002016-07-24T08:51:00.126-05:00Three's Company TooOne week ago, my day started off pretty normal. I had volunteered to take a dog to PetSmart for an adoption event. So after some breakfast and pug lounging, I headed to the shelter. When I arrived, I asked which pup I was taking, and they said, "You're with Blackjack." He was a new guy. I walk into the "little dog" room to find him waiting in a small cage. After a bit of tussle trying to get on a harness and leash, we were on our way.<br />
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I noticed right away, under all of that hair, Blackjack looked a lot like my Jack. In fact, I used to keep Jack's hair long and wiry like Smoky's. Not that I particularly liked it, just because the thought of getting him a haircut never entered my mind. Soon, we arrived at PetSmart (if I remember correctly, with Blackjack in my lap) and after dodging this psychotic bird that kept swooping at us while I was trying to get BlackJack to go potty, we made a run for the door.</div>
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We settled inside the store with a few other dogs and a ton of cats, just waiting for someone to walk in the door within the next three hours to take them home. From the start, Blackjack wanted to lay on me, so I let him, and he basically proceeded to take a three hour nap. Which didn't bother me at all. People tend to not like a "lazy" dog, but I do. I can keep up much better with a couch potato than a wild child.</div>
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Many people came by and said, "He's so cute!" and asked questions about Blackjack. Most were looking at the cats or the adorable little Eleanor who was stealing the show. Or big girl Reagan who kept rolling over for belly rubs. But when it came to Blackjack, everyone passed. And deep down inside, I was glad.</div>
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The end of the day came, and I asked Becca, the <a href="http://humanesocietyofyorkcounty.org/">HSYC</a> director, if I could foster Blackjack. Since he had just arrived at the shelter a few days before, she suggested waiting a week to see if he got adopted. That's the moment I knew: I didn't want anyone else to have him. So I took him back to the shelter, hastily filled out an application and went home to pick up Pmo. He had to meet this dog. I was so flustered I even lost my keys for about ten minutes before I found them in a box of collars.</div>
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I think Perry liked Blackjack immediately, but he was worried about taking on another dog. Our foster experience with Max went well, but there were a few skirmishes, especially with Jack. And the four of us had grown to be pretty comfortable since Gizmo came into the picture. However, my mind was made up, and I wanted Pmo on board. He agreed, especially when he found out Blackjack was surrendered by his owner to animal control. So we moved onto the next step: setting up a "meet and greet" with our fur kids.</div>
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All morning/night/whatever-you-want-to-call-it at work, I couldn't stop thinking about Blackjack. I was dying to pick up the boys, get to the shelter and see how they all reacted. And it went just fine. Blackjack seemed a little possessive if he was sitting by me when Gizmo or Jack came up. But overall, everything was cool. I was told I would know something soon and we went home, without Blackjack.</div>
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Naps were in order at this point, so after some social media surfing, Gizmo and I passed out on the couch and Jack slipped off upstairs, like he does. I awoke in the afternoon, filled with anticipation. I was so excited I felt like I was waiting on a job offer or college acceptance letter. Then the call came: "I talked to Becca, everything checked out, we're going to waive the home visit and you can come get Blackjack!" I said, "Now?!?!" And I was out the door.</div>
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Pmo and I had been talking about names ever since we met Blackjack. I wasn't coming up with anything good. Then Pmo said, "Well, he looks like he came out of a chimney with the gray on his face. How about Smoky?" Worked for me. We were also calling him "Wolfie" for awhile, until he got his haircut and his wolfieness went away. </div>
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It's been one week now, and we're working on a few assimilation issues, the biggest being attachment. When I leave for work at night and Pmo goes to bed, we can't have Smoky whining for me and not settling down. So I'm teaching Smoky to "stay" while I do other things and also leaving my clothes around the house so he picks up my smell when I'm gone. He's not too excited about the leash, but he will at least go for a walk. Smoky was not eating at all at the shelter, now his appetite is just fine. He's also not crazy about the pet taxi, which he'll have to get used to in order to take any trips with us. </div>
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Right now, we're all on the couch. No, wait, Gizmo's on the recliner. But we do all fit on the sectional, thank God we got it. A king bed may have to be next. We plan to get Smoky his own name tag and leash today, plus take all the boys for a walk before the sun sets us on fire. </div>
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There you have it. Even though we were perfectly happy with two sweet dogs, and we're outnumbered now, turns out three's company, too.</div>
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<i>"Come and dance on our floor, take a step that is new</i></div>
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<i>We've a lovable space that needs your face, three's company too"</i><br />
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Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-17868582106137076182016-07-14T11:44:00.000-05:002016-07-14T11:49:13.539-05:00Find Your Good<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've never been much of an activist. I don't participate in protests. I'm not one for a sit-in. And God help me if I ever try to go on a hunger strike. Don't get me wrong, I have beliefs and principles. I'm just not that involved, and I doubt I will ever be <i>that</i> type of person. However, I have found my own way to "change the world", and in light of the hate spreading throughout our nation so rampant right now, I'm beginning to understand why it's not only good for the cause, it's good for me, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When there's a tragedy like a mass shooting, and people are trying to make sense of it, this quote from Mr. Rogers almost always starts circulating on social media. I know I've shared it a time or two.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">In other words, find the good. I say, find YOUR good. Start with something to make yourself feel better, and the rest will follow. Whether you're going through a personal struggle, or you're tired of seeing all the violence in the news, giving your time on your terms is a easy way to bring what really matters into focus.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Again, don't get me wrong, I can lie around, play on my phone and watch TV for hours with the best of them, and not get off the couch for a whole weekend. With snacks and a pug, of course. And that's fine, sometimes you just need to do that. I'm a staunch supporter of "me time". But I think part of the reason I began going to the animal shelter this year was because I have all the "me time" I can stand since I work overnight. And there's only so much TV-watching, nap-taking, house-cleaning, errand-running, pool-sitting I can do before I start to feel like I'm just worthlessly killing time. Plus, I don't have any kids, and I don't see myself going down that path. <i>That</i> takes up a lot of time. <i>That</i> is a major contribution to society. So if I'm not doing that, what am I doing?</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I found the <a href="http://humanesocietyofyorkcounty.org/">HSYC</a> online and read up on how to volunteer. The guidelines and instructions were super easy. I knew exactly what I could do, what was expected of me and how to go about it. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to do, and I could come at my leisure. Pretty soon, I was walking dogs a few days a week, even taking them to adoption events. And like I said, it does me just as much good as it does them. Especially when I've had a rough day at work. Any worries seem to wander away, replaced by wagging tails and wet tongues.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now I'm looking at other ways to donate my time. I've applied at <a href="http://www.cms.k12.nc.us/cmsdepartments/cpfe/volunteers/Pages/default.aspx">CMS</a> to help children learn how to read. Because I like to read. So far, I've received a clearance status as "unsupervised without driving". Whatever that means. I'm waiting to find out the next step. And, if for some reason that doesn't work out, or if I just really never want to be lazy again, I'm going to check out what I could do at the <a href="https://www.cmlibrary.org/volunteer">library</a> to help out.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">It really doesn't take a lot, and you can do it. Start small, with something you love. Why it never occurred to me before to volunteer at a humane society, I'll never know. For once in my life, I was looking for a way to get to know my community since I moved away from home. Which was odd. Normally, I prefer to mind my own business and keep to myself, being an introvert and all. But something about the <a href="http://www.charlottesgotalot.com/">CLT</a> area made me not only want to explore my surroundings and what they had to offer, but also see what I could offer in return. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So get out there. Find your good. For yourself and whatever cause you choose to back. There are so many different things you can do for non-profits. You don't have to work in a soup kitchen if you don't want to. Or if you do, go for it. We have something in CLT called <a href="https://sharecharlotte.com/">Share Charlotte</a> where you can find all the different charities, what they're about and how you can help. I'm sure there are similar organizations across the board that make it easy like that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alas, the time has come for me to bring this blog to an end. You see, I also volunteer as a pug snuggler. Now that's a demanding job.</span>Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-12450528652213194022016-04-10T05:52:00.001-05:002016-04-10T05:57:17.647-05:00At Home with MaxMax was one of the first dogs I met at the Humane Society of York County. The cute little guy reminded me of my terrier mix, Jack. I took Max to an adoption event early on, and I've walked him at the shelter several times since. Every time I go back, I think he'll be gone, that someone has taken him home. Alas, not yet. So I decided to break him out of there until that day arrives.<br />
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I've never taken a dog home without the intention of keeping him forever, so I wasn't sure what to expect. My concerns were the same, I'm sure, as anyone who plans to keep a dog in the house: accidents, barking and chewing. I'm happy to say, after spending a week with Max, he's been found not guilty on all three counts.<br />
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Max must have been potty trained at some point. I haven't seen him hike his leg on anything in the house, and that's the number one thing I look for in a male dog. He's enjoying the freedom of our fenced backyard immensely, but he also loves to be taken on walks. Just like my terrier mix, it's hard to totally wear him out, because he could go for miles.<br />
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Max loves to be outside, even if it's just to sit out on the deck. In the house, he wants to be near you most of the time, just like my pug, Gizmo. Max can also relax on his own if you need to do something without him. He goes in his crate with little problem, although he'd rather sleep in the bed with you or be free to roam around when you're gone. He doesn't make any fuss overnight, however, he does get quite excited when you come back to let him out of his cage.<br />
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Max gets along fairly well with my other two dogs, but he may do better in a home where he's the only pet. There have been a few scuffles, as to be expected, but it's only been a week. I'm sure, over time, everyone would get used to each other and things would be just dandy. My own dogs have spats from time to time, and they've been together for two years now.<br />
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Overall, Max is a sweet, loveable dog that anyone would be lucky to have. He'd be great for someone who's looking for a companion to just hang out with or go on adventures. Will you be the one to give him a "fur"ever home?<br />
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<a href="https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/34174135">https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/34174135</a><br />
<a href="http://www.humanesocietyofyorkcounty.org/">http://www.humanesocietyofyorkcounty.org</a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/HSYC.animals">https://www.facebook.com/HSYC.animals</a><br />
<a href="https://www.instagram.com/humanesocietyofyorkcounty">https://www.instagram.com/humanesocietyofyorkcounty</a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/HSYCPUPSKITS">https://twitter.com/HSYCPUPSKITS</a><br />
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8177 Regent Pkwy<br />
Fort Mill, SC<br />
(803)802-0902Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-91230600363788457092016-03-07T15:41:00.002-06:002016-03-07T15:44:29.861-06:00Religious RootsWhen I started training to be a dog walker at a shelter in Fort Mill, SC, the volunteer took me along the preferred route: cross the street, go up the hill, take a right down the abandoned road, turn around at the end and come back. On the street where traffic could not go, I noticed right away I was walking through what used to be a grand entrance of some sort: the two way traffic setup, divided by a median with tall trees. It was in my imagination anyway. The current landscaping left a lot to be desired.<br />
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The more I walked, the more I wondered, "What was here? Something big must have been here." Once I began following other dog walking paths, I found another clue: a big slab of concrete where some structure once stood. And in the distance, every day, there was the sight of that big high-rise with the broken windows and huge parking lot. This is an old picture I found online. The building with the domes is still there. The fence is not.<br />
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My first thought: it was some sort of college campus, and the tower housed dorm rooms. But why the fancy entrance then? Then I rationalized it was an assisted living complex. But then what had stood nearby on that concrete plot, and why was it torn down?<br />
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I finally got my answer last week. I discovered a new, longer path around the lake, and another, far more seasoned volunteer, ended up alongside me with her dog of the day. I asked her if she knew what had been here, before all of the new housing developments and dog walking took over. She said, "You've heard of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker?" I said, "Yes." She said, "This was Heritage U.S.A."<br />
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You know the Bakkers: the PTL Club televangelists who ended up ruined by money and sex scandals? It turns out I've been walking dogs smack dab in the middle of what used to be their Christian-themed amusement park! It opened the year I was born and attracted millions of visitors, until it closed in the late 1980s. That slab of concrete? A castle stood there. The high-rise? It was supposed to be a hotel, but I don't think it was ever finished. There was also an amphitheater, a water park, a train...all of the typical theme park attractions.<br />
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I found this picture of the castle online, and it best represents what I see when I walk. The bridge over the lake is still there. I walk through a housing development to get to it. Starting in the bottom right corner of this photo, I go across the bridge, up the steps in front of the domes, then head back through a field just to the right of the castle, I mean, empty concrete slab. Then it's pretty much a straight shot back to the shelter.<br />
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Isn't that crazy? I can't wait to go back this week and look for more park remnants. From what I can tell, the whole thing was torn down only a few years ago. So I missed my chance to truly explore it. But, I knew I was onto something...Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-41406308403543398782016-02-21T10:05:00.002-06:002016-02-21T10:05:51.778-06:00The Reality of ResolutionsMy last blog was six weeks ago. So I should have several in the can by now, if I had kept up with my goal. But, I'm blogging now. Pat on the back.<br />
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I have kept up with volunteering at the animal shelter, and I love it. I do feel pangs of guilt for neglecting my dogs and going to play with others. But Jack and Gizmo get plenty of love when I get home, along with plenty of smells. I have fallen in love with a few shelter dogs, but so far I have not taken any home.<br />
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Yoga never happened. I was getting so much exercise walking the shelter dogs at first, for free, I thought, "Why should I pay for a yoga class?" Truth is, I can do yoga at any time. For free. In my living room. There are two mats in the closet, right by the TV, along with the yoga DVDs or plenty of videos on youtube. Just need to set my mind to it.<br />
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Meditation went well for awhile, but that, too, has fallen by the wayside. I'm hoping because I'm less stressed and don't need it as much? I tend to meditate when I'm having difficulty. Same thing with praying. And though the past few weeks have not been all rosy, things are getting better in the "what is my purpose" department.<br />
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I've completely stopped the brain games (Lumosity). It was fun at first, but I just got bored with it. And I didn't feel like it was doing me much good. I'll stick to reading ebooks and tons of articles on other ways to get smarter.<br />
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The classical music? Love. Pretty much a daily habit. It's calming, relaxing, peaceful, lovely...and I feel very intellectual when I'm listening to it. Like I need to have a library, with many leather bound books, and wear my glasses, though I tire of them easily.<br />
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Like this blog, I haven't touched my journal in six weeks. Probably too much to ask of myself for today, but hopefully, I'll get back to it soon. It's another one of those things: if I don't sit down to do it, I won't. I default to flipping through my Facebook feed with the TV on in the background. FOMO?<br />
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Meanwhile, Pmo and I are still all about discovering new parks, mountains, eateries and breweries. And loving every minute of it. I tried to eat healthier yesterday. I had a salad. With my boneless wings. Dipped in teriyaki and honey BBQ. So freaking good!Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-25471009500695549082016-01-10T05:41:00.001-06:002016-01-10T05:46:57.713-06:00Mental MakeoverAt 37, I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Unfortunately, the time has come to admit, I am well into adulthood and should know what I'm doing by now. And who I am.<br />
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I'm on a mission of self-improvement for the new year. Losing weight would be great, but I don't enjoy that pressure. And I like food. I am trying to eat better, just for the sake of living longer with less ailments. I'm always "trying". Willpower is a fickle beast. Especially when you live in a city with a restaurant on every corner.<br />
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What I am "into" right now: cerebral enhancements and soul searching. My passion for pups has led me to volunteer at an animal shelter. My struggles at work have steered me toward brain-training games, reading more books and listening to classical music to help me focus. My general disposition (the way I handle, or don't handle, stress/people/life) has driven me to take up daily meditation and possible bi-weekly yoga classes.<br />
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Writing lists and scheduling events helps me <i>attempt</i> to keep it all going. I'm more inclined to follow through when I see an activity on a calendar, and I haven't over-scheduled myself for the day. Getting, or staying out of the house helps. too. I can tell myself I'm going to do yoga when I get home 1,000 times. But the minute I hit that recliner, it's "Downton Abbey" episodes with a blanket and snacks.<br />
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I'm having to push myself in a way I've never thought <i>necessary</i> before. Even further outside my comfort zone than just moving away from home. There were several opportunities to attend the animal shelter volunteer training before I actually did it. I would come up with an excuse each time and say, "I'll go to the next one." Finally, the new year arrived, and I was out of excuses, so I just told myself, "you're going." This sort of thing is hard for an introvert. Meeting new people scares the you-know-what out of me. Being in unfamiliar places makes be uncomfortable. But I think I've finally realized, I truly just need to not "be me" sometimes, for the sake of personal growth. And those other activities that allow me to revert to my inner, quiet, self...become rewards for good behavior.<br />
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Writing more is another goal of mine. I've started another journal on my computer, because my handwriting is horrible, and I'm so used to typing all of the time anyhow. I've read plenty of articles that say getting all your thoughts down on paper is a very good way to release. Hopefully, blogging more will also become a regular habit in 2016. I've really slacked off in the past few years. I think I had almost 80 posts one year in the early days! My goal has always been at least once a week, but I've found one reason or another not to write. I'll fix that. Excuse me, while I go add "blog" to my list/calendar :)Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-51190313457656117502015-08-22T05:27:00.000-05:002015-08-22T05:27:28.890-05:00The New NormalMy home is very empty. Not only of furnishings, but the usual sounds and smells. In fact, new ones are emerging: inactivity, staleness, sitting. Creaks and pops, waiting to be disguised again by the hustle and bustle of a full family. A regular routine. A lived life.<br />
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At the end of this year, which if you didn't notice is fast approaching, Pmo and I will have been together for nine years. In that time, we've rarely been apart. I take a few weekend trips each year to see girlfriends, but that's about it. We're very used to being together, doing things together and that's the way we like it. So, needless to say, it sucks when he's more than 500 miles away. Thank goodness for Skype.<br />
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Pmo's promotion took him to North Carolina, along with his and most of my possessions. We decided to go ahead with the move before I had secure employment so he could get on with his new role. I'm hanging back until 1. the house sells or 2. I get a new job in Charlotte. We really like the area, so I'm eager to get down there and start exploring our new city together. <br />
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Before I start sounding too "woe is me", I know the situation is harder on Pmo. He's the one alone in a new place, though thankfully he knows a few people. I have familiar surroundings and the dogs to take care of and keep me company. I also don't mind being alone. But still, it's just not right being without him.<br />
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This weekend, I will mow grass for the first time in more than a decade, possibly longer, I can't even remember. I'll have to take the trash out to the curb Sunday night. I won't be able to turn in early and let someone else take the dogs out. I won't be treated to a great breakfast, then asked with much anticipation, "What are we going to do today?"<br />
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But, hopefully, our routine will be back soon, and things will be righted again. Many things will be different though. The dogs will have a fenced yard and no longer need leashes to keep them safe. Trash day will move from Monday to Thursday. We'll have to find a new place for our Friday night happy hour. The smell of bacon and hashbrowns will return, but in a different kitchen. Life, as we know it, will be full again.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-2199478523818696452015-02-21T11:24:00.005-06:002015-02-21T11:24:32.395-06:00The Bucket ListMom tells me many a story about Dad, but I found this one particularly funny.<br />
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He came in the house one day mumbling something about a bucket. And she says, "What?" He says, "I need to get a bucket of lyme. I need to put that on my bucket list."<br />
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She says, "Oh." And let it go. For a second or two.<br />
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Then she says, "Wait, bucket list? You need to put a bucket of lyme on your bucket list?"<br />
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He says, "Yeah, that's what I said."<br />
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Still trying to process what she heard, and what he must be thinking, she says, "Do you know what a bucket list is?"<br />
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He waits a moment and says, "I guess not."<br />
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Then she proceeds to tell him what a bucket list is.<br />
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He apparently took the term a bit too literally.<br />
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The end.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-8495656886325607752015-02-21T11:16:00.000-06:002015-02-21T11:16:26.510-06:00The GriddleMom got us a griddle for Christmas. Among many other things. The woman goes overboard. Anyway, when I took the old griddle to Goodwill, I somehow, accidentally, put the new cord with it. So now we had a new griddle, with the wrong cord, and no way to cook pancakes. We even looked online to see if we could order the part separately. No dice.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to the day after Valentine's Day when we came back from Brown County to pick up the dogs at her house. I had debated on telling her the story, because frankly I was embarrassed that I could do such a stupid thing and ruin a perfectly good griddle. But I decided, what the hell, she might think it's funny. So I tell her. Then she goes outside and comes back in with another griddle! Pmo and I were flabbergasted. I said, "Where did you get that?" She says, "Out of my van." <br />
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If you didn't know her, you'd probably think this was strange. If you do know her, you'd know this is dead-on Darlene.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-14359806610464378402014-07-17T18:37:00.001-05:002014-07-17T19:03:23.690-05:00ShiftingI've been on a new shift at work for a few weeks now. If you've read my previous blogs, you know this has been a long time coming. My dual role as line producer and executive producer had ended, and now I'm just executive producer. I start my day at 3am instead of midnight. It may not sound like a big deal to you, but believe me, it's a major improvement. <br>
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I used to go to bed around 2 or 3pm and get up at 10 or 11pm. Which means I spent the afternoon and evening asleep while most people were getting off work and having dinner. Now I'm awake when Pmo gets home so we watch Nightly News, or maybe an episode of The Waltons, and have supper together. We've even taken the dogs for walks the past two nights because it's been so cool. Sure, I still go to bed at an insanely early hour (7pm), but I truly feel a bit normal now. <br>
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Since this is virtually a new position at work because the job has always had two facets, I honestly didn't know what to do with myself the first full week. When you've produced an hour of news (or more) every day for 10+ years, you get used to the rhythm, the details, the deadline. The first half of my day still has that in a sense because that's when the show airs, but someone else is responsible for putting that hour together and making sure it gets done. I help, tweak, take care of issues, look for new content, etc. After the show, I move on to planning for the next day and beyond. That's where I was a bit lost at first because there's no structure, except what I make of it. And I'm a structure gal! <br>
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But I'm in the groove now. It's not that I wasn't doing anything, I just didn't know where to start. I have plenty of ideas and to-do lists that I'm now prioritizing which has helped. I attend the morning meeting. I have time to talk to people about things in person instead of having to send them an email and wait for a response. I have time to take a break and visit Pmo. I have time to plan. I have time to think. <br>
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I didn't know what to do with myself at home either. It was hard to stay awake past 3pm at first. I have at-home to-do lists, too, and other recreational things I could do like read a book or watch a movie. But I sat there in my chair for a few days, trying to figure out where to begin. My bedtime deadline was much further away now. Gizmo did not mind me sitting around at all. He was more than happy to help me be lazy. Jack was confused though. He would go into the bedroom at the normal time I would lie down, then come out a bit later, look at me, and trot down the hallway. <br>
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The 2am wakeup call is not bad. I wear a Fitbit that has a vibrating alarm so I don't wake up Pmo. Since I'm sleeping right up until the very last minute, I no longer snooze. But I do have a backup, audible alarm on my phone in case I don't get the jolt on my wrist for some reason. I lay out my clothes before I go to bed and try to have an idea of what I want to take for "lunch". I can get out the door in a little more than a half hour.<br>
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Weekends are better. I no longer have to take a nap on Saturday to make it through the day. Well, it may still happen if we're not active, but at least it's not as necessary as it once was. And I'm not completely off the hook from the night shift. I still have to fill in when someone is on vacation or sick. But for the most part, this is my new routine and I'm loving it. <br>
<br>
I managed to stay very busy today: after leaving work and getting an oil change, I took the dogs for a walk, cleaned out my car, vacuumed the house and wrote this blog. However, I'm looking forward to "sleeping in" until 5 or 6am this weekend ;)Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-37712547113678686672014-05-27T13:45:00.001-05:002014-05-27T13:45:30.175-05:00You Should Be DancingMaybe it's because I've heard "Night Fever" three times in the past couple of days (radio/store/Pandora), but I just read an article in Rolling Stone on Barry Gibb, the last Bee Gee brother, and it made me really sad. And angry. And happy. I'll tell you why.<br />
<br />
It makes me sad because Barry seems quite depressed without his family. Although they didn't always get along, and he wasn't on the best terms with each of them when they died, he seems to grieve all over again when he speaks of them. The wound opens up and he has to close it.<br />
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It makes me angry because there's a moment when Barry looks back on his career with doubt, disdain even. The article says he will greet a fan at his home every once in awhile. Barry says, "It does your heart good. Makes you realize not everyone hated it." I'm not angry at him. I'm angry at people who worship the Kim Kardashians of this world, who have not contributed one lick of anything to society, yet they are put on pedestals to fawn over and we are supposed to give a damn about their every move. And here is this great, magnificent singer/songwriter who's made such beautiful music...playing the role of Eeyore: head hung low with a "thanks for noticing" kind of defeated attitude. <br />
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It makes me happy because Barry is going out on tour again. By himself, for the first time. It seems he became a bit of a hermit after Robin died and some friends/family had to snap him out of it. I understand wanting to be alone, hide from the world, not be "on" all of the time. I totally get that. But he has a gift and I'm glad he's still willing to share it, even if it's only six shows and will cost him as much as he will make. Haters be damned. You've got fans, man.<br />
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I'm also happy that I downloaded some Bee Gees songs I didn't have. And I should be dancing with night fever on the way to work later. That's what's important. Not a multi-million dollar wedding. Not a clothing line. Not a reality show. Music lives. Music lasts. Music counts. The rest is just cheap entertainment.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-71411471028231372014-03-24T10:30:00.001-05:002014-03-24T10:33:39.187-05:00So Much, So SoonWe've had Gizmo for more than two weeks now, and he's fitting in nicely. Jack and Giz have started friendly "sparring" as Pmo calls it, and I even caught them laying on the big dog bed together. For about thirty seconds. Then there was some tussle over a rope.<br />
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As I type this, Giz is laying underneath my chair. <br />
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He's always waiting for one of us to sit down so he can plant himself on a lap and snooze. We had one night in the beginning where he did not like being left alone in his cage, and I had to go sleep with him in the guest bed. But since then, we've somewhat trained him that it's "quiet time" when he's in there, and he's been pretty good about not yipping at night.<br />
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Now Giz is in my lap. If he sits still, he gets to stay.<br />
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His bathroom habits are peculiar. He's pretty much housebroken, but he can apparently hold it for awhile because he doesn't go near as often as Jack does or Bug did. If we're patient and take the extra time, he will eventually get around to it. But man, it takes him forever.<br />
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Gizmo's head is on my right wrist. Makes it hard to type.<br />
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He's had a few medical issues to take care of right off the bat. Nothing major. I've taken him to Parkdale twice, and we'll return at the end of this week for another checkup. His corneal ulcer seems to be healing nicely with some extra meds Dr. Saxon gave him. He's been scratching and biting himself a lot. Dr. Saxon thought he might have scabies, so we have a few doses of another med to give him every two weeks to take care of it.<br />
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Gizmo's head is now resting inside my left elbow. A little more manageable. <br />
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We've taken a few walks, the four of us and just me with the fur-kids. We've been to a few pet stores, tried on several soft harnesses and decided on one with purple trim that seemed to fit the best. An emo-looking kid at PetSmart told me in a Napoleon Dynamite voice, "I like your black pug." I let him pet him.<br />
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Now Giz is laying across my lap snoring. Which means I can't reach the stereo and skip this song.<br />
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He's met "Grandma" and "Grandpa" (Mom and Dad), other members of my family and he even got to see Grandpa Everett already. Everyone gets quite a kick out of him. We can't wait to take the boys to the cabin in the fall and on other excursions. Jack is a great, sweet, loving, gem of a dog, don't get me wrong. But something has definitely been missing in the past six months. I think we feel complete again. <br />
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It all seemed to fall into place with ideal circumstances. I happened to have some days off work when we brought Giz home, so I was better able to get him adjusted to a routine, or at least, our best version of a "routine" with my crazy sleep schedule. We have no big trips or plans in the coming months, so he can continue to settle in with us... <br />
<br />
...and besides that, it was just time. Time to fill the void. Bug could never be replaced. We know that. We still miss him dearly and talk about him a lot. But Gizmo has filled our hearts back up so much, so soon. I'm so thrilled we could give this little guy a home, and all of my pug décor and accessories don't go to waste ;)<br />
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I think Giz just tooted on me. Time to get down.Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-86235505891964385082014-03-09T12:07:00.002-05:002014-03-09T12:07:49.679-05:00Have Pug? Will Travel!I've been sending Pmo pics of adoptable pugs for several weeks now. Many have been pug mixes, but we've been trying to hold out for a purebred. The regional rescue organization has plenty of pugs. Most are seniors though, and we were looking for a young adult. We considered starting fresh with a puppy from a breeder, but they cost an arm and a leg. Plus puppies are quite a handful.<br />
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One day, perusing Petfinder.com, I found a black pug who looked fairly young and was less than two hours away. I sent a pic to Pmo. He liked him. I also found a fawn pug that was about the same distance away and probably close in age. They were from two different organizations so I applied to both. <br />
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I then started an email correspondence about the first pug. I found out that he was surrendered from a divorce, had a corneal ulcer that needed care, was housebroken and set to be neutered on Thursday. The humane society said someone else was interested in him, but they didn't want her to adopt him. I thought that was weird for them to tell me that, but I pressed on: submitted the application/references and explained that we took care of Bug's needs for several years in case they had any doubt about us taking care of his eye or anything else that came along.<br />
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Saturday morning, I'm waiting to get my hair done. I check my email and find out the humane society has written back, saying everything looked great and when can I pick him up? Naturally, I freaked out. Did they mean today? Next week? Next weekend? Could we even go today? OMG, we're getting a pug! <br />
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I called Pmo, then I called the shelter to see if they really meant to come that day. After a few phone calls back and forth with them and Pmo, I told my hair stylist I would take a raincheck and we were on the road to pug salvation.<br />
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His name is Gizmo. The vet thinks he's 1.5 years old. And he's a sweetheart. So far, Jack and Gizmo are getting along fairly well. Jack snipped at him early this morning, but they're still getting used to each other. Gizmo is scratching a lot, so I gave him a bath even though he already had one at shelter. Jack was also due for a bath anyway. Gizmo may also be irritated by his recent surgery. He didn't throw too much of a fit overnight when we crated him so we all got to sleep. He likes to take naps on our laps. And he's quick! Super fast. Pmo calls him "Go Go Gizmo". <br />
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We're going to get both dogs out today for a walk and see how that goes. We'll probably stop by the pet store for some more things. I'm also thinking about starting him in obedience training since I've never done that with any of my dogs. But so far, so good. Gizmo is putting smiles on our faces.<br />
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Oh, and the person the humane society didn't want to adopt Gizmo? Turns out she has adopted three dogs over the past few years: one got ran over, one was shot and one mysteriously disappeared. Thank goodness we got the Giz!Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-88482737421399910932014-02-05T12:11:00.003-06:002014-02-05T12:19:52.342-06:00#blessedbutstressedSunday was my 10th anniversary at 14 WFIE. I didn't post anything on Facebook, because honestly, I wasn't feeling too good about the place. It's been a rough start to the year. There have been at least two occasions, fairly close together, where I have felt in over my head and desperate for help. Since I dwell on things, I let those events get me down.<br />
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There are good days and bad days in news. I'm sure it's that way in most jobs. But when the bad days start to pile up in a row, you start to rethink what you're doing, if you're any good at it and whether you want to do it anymore. My problem is I want to be able to handle everything, all at once. Know the answer to every question. Solve every problem. Right every wrong. And when I can't, I take it way too personally.<br />
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I explained these feelings to my friend the other day. I call it my #redneckblowout which my friend, in turn, also dubbed as a hairstyle. There are certain ways you are supposed to handle stressful situations; in a professional manner, don't be condescending, try not to accuse or point fingers, etc. I don't have that skill. I blurt out whatever I'm thinking or feeling at the time with #nofilter whatsoever. It's not necessarily that I'm yelling at everyone, at least I'd like to think I've gotten better at that. It's more like I'm airing my frustrations out loud, and there are people around who are forced to witness the hot mess which is myself. #peopleskills<br />
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However, I hope things are looking up. I think today was a pretty good work day for a change. Switching to a later schedule, doing more big picture planning and less tedious detailing should happen for me within the next few months. I keep telling myself that will help. <br />
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At home, we have some fun events coming up, but they feel so far away. We have Motley Crue tickets for an October show in Louisville. I'm seriously looking into flying us to Hawaii for Christmas now that the flight calendar has extended into the end of December. <br />
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I purposely haven't made any plans for us on weekends so that we can relax, get things done around the house and just be still for awhile. I may just have to arrange something for us to look forward to soon though. We get into the doldrums if there's nothing exciting on the horizon. <br />
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On the go or cabin fever, which is worse?<br />
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Plenty of things are worse actually. At least I have a job. I have my health. I have a home. I have friends. I have a family. <br />
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New hashtag: #blessedbutstressedMitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-74953312415322886962014-01-12T05:36:00.003-06:002014-01-12T05:36:54.442-06:00Movin' and a Shakin' Things UpThis past Friday marked my third anniversary as a vampire...I mean...the executive producer of 14 News Sunrise. Early next month, I will celebrate ten years at 14 WFIE. I can't believe I've been there that long. I'm extremely lucky to have had two other jobs and been employed steadily since college. But in my business, it's not normal to stay in one place for too long, Every two years or so, you fly the coop if you want to move up. I never managed to spread my wings and get off the ground. I've said it before: I love my house, I like this area and I'm happy right where I am.<br /><br />However, my role on Sunrise is about to change, and I'm very excited about it. We are getting another producer. The extra body/brain will allow me to fully come into my charge as EP. I can step back and look more at the big picture instead of being bogged down with the nitty gritty details of my hour of news. I've been in a hybrid role for the past three years. My hours will shift, too. Instead of coming in at midnight, I'll slip in a few hours later, like most of the rest of the crew, and have much more time after the show to take care of issues, brainstorm and get involved with the dayside element.<br />
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On the homefront, I recently invested in a Fitbit Flex wristband. One of the perks: it has a silent wake alarm so, hopefully, I won't be disturbing Pmo too much when my new schedule starts and I roll out of bed in the middle of the night. I've reduced the 10,000 daily step goal to 3,500 for now, with plans to increase it about 500 steps a week. I can't go from 0 to 60 in one day. But the Fitbit is pretty cool. It transfers my steps and sleep habits automatically via Bluetooth to my phone. I have to log other details like my weight, calorie intake and water consumption if I want, but so far it's kept me motivated to hit that daily step goal and feel the buzz on my wrist. Yesterday, I got buzzed at 1:00 p.m.! From the bracelet, not alcohol.<br />
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I prefer winter cleaning to spring cleaning, so I've started a mission to purge things from the house little by little. We took a small load to Goodwill yesterday. I've been doing some general rearranging as well. The spice rack above the microwave was a hot mess, so I repurposed another contraption we already had sitting on the counter and it seems to be working so far. We also trekked to Lowe's yesterday and replaced two light fixtures in the house. We haven't done a ton of remodeling or updating since we moved in five years ago, because the house was in good shape. Still, little updates like that go a long way and make you feel good. There are plenty of things we'd like to do in the future if we could just stop traveling.<br />
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On that note, I'm starting to think about planning our trips for this year. We've talked about going to Hawaii for Christmas, so our remaining vacation days may have to be spent as regional trips over four day weekends to offset the costs. Next weekend is our work Christmas party which was delayed from a winter storm early last month. I'm also going to one of my bi-annual "summits" with my college friends and sneaking in a brunch with another bestie. But besides the upcoming mega-party-weekend, I'm trying to keep things pretty low key right now. We had a jam-packed end to 2012 and I want to relax a bit. <br />
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We'll see ;)Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-18783049496662549522013-12-28T06:10:00.000-06:002013-12-28T06:13:34.902-06:00MORRIS FAMILY YEAR-IN-REVIEW: 2013 <br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">JANUARY<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The year began with a death in the family. My grandma,
Dorothy, passed away. Perry’s granny died just a few months before. Our hearts
were heavy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">FEBRUARY<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Perry got a promotion. After more than 20 years of working
for 14 WFIE in news production and assisting the sales department, he became a
digital advertising designer for Raycom, our parent company. Perry still works
at the station, but now he’s at the corporate level. I was accepted into the
2013 Raycom News Leadership Class and began a year-long quest to improve my
management skills. I’ll celebrate my 10 year anniversary at 14 WFIE in February
2014.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">MARCH<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Perry and I saw P!nk and Bon Jovi in concert in Louisville.
Mom came along to Bon Jovi, too, of course. I flew to Charlotte, NC for my
first leadership class. This was one of two airplane rides I would take this
year. The other was to Alabama in June for the 2<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">nd</span></sup> class. I drove to
the 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> class in October, also in Alabama.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">APRIL<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mom and I went to see Fleetwood Mac in Louisville. Perry and
I returned to the Florida Keys and stayed in a little mom-and-pop resort on the
bay. A few days after we returned home, Bug had a stroke. We didn’t think he
was going to make it. His head cocked to the side and he had trouble walking in
a straight line. He also started having accidents in the house and being picky
about food. But he was still with us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">MAY<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers came to the Ford Center. I believe
Perry, Mom and l all went to this one. My cousin Sarah’s wedding was in Indy
and I did a reading during the ceremony. This was a very hard month at home with
Bug. He became extremely difficult to take care of, testing our patience and
strength. Vet visits increased, and so did the bills.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">JUNE<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">More weddings! My cousin, Rachel, and my co-worker, Katy,
got married on the same day. So we went to Rachel’s ceremony in Tell City and
Katy’s reception in Gibson County. We spent our 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> anniversary in
the Leavenworth, IN area. We stayed at our first B&B and had lots of fun on
a canoe trip, my first.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">JULY</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This was apparently a low key month. I couldn’t find
anything exciting we did on Facebook (my record of all activities) except the annual
fireworks show in Newburgh. FB showed me that I had a Blizzard from DQ and took
Jack to the riverfront a few times. </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">AUGUST<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We planned a staycation that included a few days in Brown
County, IN where we ziplined for the first time. We also enjoyed some of our
favorite libations at Big Woods Brewery. Our friend, Chad, married his partner in
Minnesota and we went to their reception at Aztar. Our neighbor, Judy, passed
away and we went to her funeral at a local church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">SEPTEMBER<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bug hung in there for five months after his stroke, but one
morning, it came time for him to go to the rainbow bridge. We buried him on a
Friday on a hill at my mom and dad’s. We spent the weekend in tears and
isolation. A week later, we attended the wedding of Perry’s friend, Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">OCTOBER<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We look forward to our trip to the cabin in Georgia every
year. This time, it was bittersweet because Bug would not be with us. Just the three
of us packed up and headed south. Jack had a wonderful time on the trails and curled
up with us at night by the fireplace. When we got back, it was time for “bar
Halloween” and we dressed up as Wayne and Garth from “Wayne’s World” which was
a big hit!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">NOVEMBER<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We celebrated Perry’s birthday weekend by going back to
Brown County, IN and later in the month I got a pug cake for my special day. We
also had a cookout at home for my co-workers. They were introduced to my mom
and dad’s grilled chicken and creek fries, also a big hit!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">DECEMBER<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We went to our 2<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">nd</span></sup> ever Colts game and watched the
boys win against the Titans at Lucas Oil Stadium. I also took Mom to see “Mamma
Mia” at the Centre. Perry and I saw Bill Cosby there just a week earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">AND THEN…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have 3 cousins who are getting ready to have babies next
year. The Malone family continues to grow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As for our little family, we plan to adopt…a pug next year. It’s only
been three months since we lost Bug and we’re still healing. But we definitely
think about it from time to time. We’ll also be visiting new places and
stopping by our old favorites in 2014. One goal is to take Jack to the beach or
maybe even spend the holidays in Hawaii. We’ll see. We’d also like to do a
little home remodeling, but we’d have to stay in one place for a bit to do that.
</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We hope you’ve had a
great year and the next one is even better! -Perry, Mitzi and Jack Morris</span></i><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></em><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313920191165386326.post-47438425895482406072013-12-07T06:27:00.002-06:002013-12-07T06:42:05.904-06:00Dream for an Insomniac<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You can’t
make this stuff up. That’s a phrase we often use in the news. The story is so
outrageous, so stupid, so unbelievable...it can’t be true. But it is.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s how
the dream I just had went down. So many people were in it. It was so weird and unexplainable
at times. But it happened. And I had to write about it immediately or I would
forget. It’s 4:30 in the morning, by the way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pmo and I
were living in a house (not a van) on the bank of a river, with a considerable slope down to
the water. Next to us was another house, but it was a houseboat. And not your
typical houseboat. Picture a mobile home with the floor cut out and plopped
down on the deck of a boat. I’ll call it butter dish boat. You can see it now,
right?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This next-door
butter-dish boat must have been floating on a man-made pool of water, like a casino
boat that’s legal in Indiana but doesn’t actually sit on an existing waterway. There also had to be some sort of canal from this pool of water that led to the
river below because of what happened later. I’ll get to that.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In our
house, we were getting up to make breakfast and coffee because we had
friends stay over: Rachel, Nick and Andrea. I couldn’t find the coffee cups,
someone had moved them (I’m looking at you Pmo). I could only find huge cups you would get in a specialty shop. Like the cappuccino at the start
of the movie “So I Married an Axe Murderer” if you’ve ever seen that.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think I finally
found the normal cups and was setting them out, but then I realized I needed something
else, so I went outside. We had some things in storage right next to our
neighbor's property. But at that point, I discovered our storage was actually
on the neighbor’s land and not on ours. And when I say storage, I mean a pile
of things lying on the ground. Like a pile of trash you would bury at the landfill or a mound of leaves you would set on fire. I suddenly had the urge to move
everything back to our property: each item, one by one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was a
group of kids playing nearby: tag or flag football or something. They pretty
much ignored me. Then I remembered I needed something else from another storage
area, which was inside the butter dish boat. Again, why am I storing things at
my neighbor’s place and then realizing I shouldn’t be doing that? And why are they letting me? So
I left the pile and went to the butter dish.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once inside the butter dish,
I started to pick apart the new pile to move back to our house. For some reason, my boss was there,
Scott. He had two brothers who looked just like him, but they had Duck
Dynasty beards. Scott’s wife, Shelley, was there, too. They were all helping me
get stuff out of the boat and back where it belonged.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of a
sudden, we started to move. And I realized the butter dish was now in the
river. I panicked and went to find someone to stop the boat. But it was run by
the military (what?) and they couldn’t stop until they arrived at their destination, wherever that was. There was another boat in front of us that was on the same trip. So I ran
to the front of the butter dish (there was room to walk around the edge with a
railing, in case you were wondering) and yelled at them to stop. They had a
megaphone and yelled back for me to back off the front of the boat, or
else. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There was a
large group of African Americans inside the butter dish. It was either a really
big family or some kind of church congregation. I'm leaning toward church because I vaguely remember some pews. Scott, his wife and brothers had disappeared. Instead, there was a little Caucasian girl with blond hair by my side who would not let go of my leg. She had been sitting along a wall with my aunt Betty. They found a phone for me and I called Pmo. I told him what happened: that I didn't have my phone, or money, or anything but the clothes on my back. Yes, I distinctly remember using that cliché. I figured Pmo would panic, too, but he was relatively calm. Almost too calm. </span></span><br />
<br />
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We eventually pulled
into to a town, a touristy place like Gatlinburg, TN. And when I say pulled in, I mean
like Venice, where the roads are made of water and there are buildings on each
side of you. I thought they were going to let me off the boat so I could get
back home. But just as I asked somebody and was about to find out whether I would be free, I looked
up at those buildings and woke up.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Where did all of that come from? <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Rachel and
Nick did spend the night with us last week, but I don’t know what Andrea had to
do with anything, except that she was off work on Friday.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The pile
of stuff outside? I do have a tendency to get obsessed with something like that and have
to drop whatever else I'm doing and tackle the new disturbance right then and there. Last night before I went to bed, I was flipping through an Eddie Bauer magazine, saw a blouse/sweater combo, and immediately went to my closet to match up my sweaters and blouses. If I don't act on an idea in the here and now, I'll forget. Or at least write myself a note. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The pile of stuff in
the butter dish? I still need to get my Christmas decorations down from the loft in
the garage. That’s definitely been weighing on my mind. And it's sort of in an out-of-the-way place. Like the butter dish boat.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I've also felt an overwhelming need to purge things from this house lately. With our birthday presents from Mom (and the tons of stuff she gives us every time we see her in general), recent trips where we've brought back things, Christmas coming soon, etc., we have or will have quite a bit of clutter. It's not like hoarding where everything is out in the open and you can't find the toaster. Believe me, everything is tidy and put away in its place. But it still suffocates me because I know there are things lurking in a closet/drawer or under the bed that I really don't need and should give away. And valuable things I still need to sell.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The rest of the dream: Scott, Betty, the church group, the military, the little blond girl, Pmo not
being too concerned, Gatlinburg…I have no clue. I’ll chalk it up to having a
brain that is constantly in action and a sleep schedule that is forever out of
whack. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a craving for some toast. With butter.</span></span>Mitzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07372990643399347507noreply@blogger.com0