THE ARTFUL DODGER

Meet the new love of my life---The Artful Dodger---my new wonderful Golden Retriever!!!! Talk about that line "Good things happen to those who wait." This could not be truer than if it had been staged.

He is a little over one year old and tho he is a male and I wanted a female, he is such a softie and a lover that I love him anyway. He is all trained in all ways, beautifully behaved and beautiful to look at and all he wants is to love you. We have had him only three days and he is like we have had him forever. He is the darling of the resthome. My husband with Alzheimer's loves him.

There were many things against my getting a dog at this stage of my life and I don't know how long Jim will be with me to take care of him. I do not anticipate any problem with that, however. Dodger is a puppy from the owner's dog. His father lives there still and an older brother from previous litter. That he was brought up with love and gentle discipline transfers to make him into a fantastic member of this household.

I figured that it was important to my quality of life to have a dog that I could love now. I have been worrying and taking care of my husband's problems to improve his quality of life and so I decided the other night while talking to my neighbor--What about mine? And then almost the next day this deal falls into our lap. How about that?

TRIBUTE TO FATHERS

Tis Father's Day Me Hearties and

We Must Give Him His Due.

So Lift a Glass of Spirits Now

And Toast Thy Sire Anew.


Yeah. go Dad! Father's Day is a fairly recent designation which was invented purely in response to Mother's Day. Of that, I am certain. You know men. We can't even be pregnant by ourselves anymore. I read the other day that they have now discovered that men who learn they are about to become fathers go through some of the same symtoms as the women. Now give me a break!

Well, let's face it. Dads are important. Many families are without dads and thrive O.K. but not as lucky as the nuclear family. For some of us, our dads had a terrific impact on our lives. For many, especially daughters, dads are the favorite parent. For others, not so much.

If you were born to parents from Sweden, the father was the ruler and big man of the house and his wife was there to serve him and his children. I was raised in such a house. Not only was he the father and man of the house, but a priest as well. {They call them that in Sweden instead of pastors) Someone asked me once if I loved my father. Yes, I did, but I respected and admired him more. What he did in his lifetime as an immigrant coming from Sweden in 1901 is truly amazing . Not speaking English to becoming a public speaker ( and very good at it too), holding positions of consequence in the communities he lived in, being a loved and respected pastor leaves me in awe of him. I cherish his memory.


As for my own children's father, I don't have to wonder what they think of him at all. I believe they all loved him with all their hearts. I picked a good man for them. I believe he is the favorite parent. They always talk about how they could come to him with their problems and he always had help for them. Me, they talk about my cooking!!!!

They all came home for his 75th birthday. Here are a few pictures of the before going-out-to-dinner activities with Julie and her dad. And one picture of the Michigan State basketball game down in San Antonio just a few years ago. That is little Jordan with him in the stands.

So Bless Them All the Blackards
Bless the Strong Bravehearts too
Tis Deep In Our Hearts They lie
Blimey. hand me another brew.

CRAWLING TO THE FINISH LINE

After just three days of training I decided to walk in the 10K Bellin Race. Heretofore I had walked only as far as the corner of my street. I broke my tailbone in Texas and was rather constricted as to my activities. So on Saturday morning at 6:30 I got up. It was dark, cold, and rainy out. I sent a quick e-mail to my kids and asked them whose idea was this anyway? And then I left to join the 17,000 other participants.








The run is like the third largest in the nation I think and it is for cancer. At $25 bucks apiece that is quite a large chunk of change for breast cancer. I think they include leukemia and other cancers too now. Such a teeming mass of humanity is gathered there together with all the onlookers who encourage the runners on. A Kenyan wins every year lately. I guess it has been l4 years since an American has won it. Shucks, he was back and done before many of the rest of us had started! Sort of broke my hopes of winning right there.:)


No, I must confess that I only entered the one mile event for those who had had therapy of one kind or another for knee surgery, hip surgery, heart problems etc. And I barely made it. I had to rest often and almost had to crawl to the finish line. This time I didn't have the police watching over me--I had two physical therapists from the hospital. I don't know how I picked them up but they must have spotted me resting - - -often leaning on the temporary barrier.

And I got mixed up with another group again but regained my straggling group soon enough. Only they weren't straggling. Only I was. Heck, they were not nearly as old either. Anyhow it was fun and very satisfying to finish and not quit. Here are a few more pictures.

Thought I was near the finish line but the lady said, "Oh No, you have to go around this next corner and go several blocks before you get there!" I thought that mile went awfully fast. But after we turned the corner and got to the other street I hadn't counted on such a far far destination. It looked like it was to hell and gone. But we toiled on.

Look kind of beat here and the therapist is right beside me. Kind of cool to have them watch you that well. The last 40 feet my head kept telling my feet to put one in front of the other and I made it!!!!!

LOST PEOPLE AND PLACES

We tell ourselves we must go to see Mary or we must write to Paul or we must call John on the phone. Our intentions are good, but many times we get busy with our own lives and never get around to contacting our old friends or relatives. Time flies by and one day you realize it is too late to talk to them anymore. You missed it. You missed days, months, even years of enjoyment interacting with these people. Why is this? Why do we choose to live with regret and a sense of loss and rue the fact that we didn't keep close to those loved ones?

I'm sure all of you can relate to this feeling, whether young or old. Some folks we would just as soon not see anymore, but then there are the precious ones that we enjoyed but thought we had forever to see. I miss Paul, my brother who could make the fun out of anything. He lived near Chicago. Not that far from us. But visits were few and far between. When I was young and romping through college, I had such a hard time to just go home to visit with my mom even on Mother's Day! She died when I was 23. We take people for granted and do not cultivate our gardens of loved ones.

Whenever we went on a road trip somewhere, there would always be places of special attraction such as a horse farm in Kentucky or the Grand Canyon in Arizona or the Chicoteaque horses in Virginia. These are just a few of the places that we were close to, or right there but Bill who had a penchant for "making time" would pass up and say that we would go there when we came back some day. Well, some day never came and we never went back except to the horse farm. We were as close as Lexington, Flagstaff, and (I need a map) for the island. So my daughter learned from this and when she takes a road trip, she looks up all the points of interest and takes detours to find them and experience them.

So this post is about gathering rosebuds while ye may or making hay while the sun shines. I hope you all will pay attention and write to that old friend today and don't skip the special things there are to see as you travel. The motel will be there when you get there and maybe the light will even be on for you!

GRANDDAUGHTERS ARE DIFFERENT

Yesterday Jim and I went down to surprise Lori, my daughter-in-law, on her birthday. We did indeed surprise them and had a great time. Matilda (Miranda) continues to display loads of affection for me which puzzles me no end because she hardly ever sees me. (Maybe this is why she does) I have only experienced grandsons before so maybe this is how granddaughters work. At any rate it is most cherished and enjoyed. She is a sweetheart.

Here are some pictures of the occasion.

This is when we first arrived and she was anticipating her first kiss.

Cute little button nose.

Her beautiful Mom with the cake that Jim made.

Mmmm. Tastes pretty good!

Miranda doesn't like sweets, but she got a few crumbs off of the spatula and I think she may change her mind soon.

I also thought you might like to see my garden this year. I think it is beautiful.