The commonality factor with Clark W. Griswold

As many of you know, I am a professional dog walker. I walk dogs of all shapes, sizes, and breeds. When I first started this endeavor last October, I would go nearly anywhere in the county to walk a dog. I wanted the experience and the money and the exercise. Now, nine months later, I am a bit more selective about the distance I will drive. It is great fun for me and I still love every dog I come in contact with. I do have a few favorites however and as time goes along, I will share stories about these favorites.

One of the by-products of walking dogs is that I quite often find myself covered in their fur. I do my best to wear clothing compatible with being around furry animals but I am not always successful.

One of my regular dogs is named Max. He is a Siberian Husky and we have a definite mutual love for one another. He now knows what days I will be over to walk him and he expects me by waiting at the door. If his owner is not home, I let myself in and he is so grateful to see me. He will jump on the sofa and then jump off and come stand right beside me, brushing against my body, until I get him leashed up for the walk.

Yesterday, he was particularly lonely and was particularly happy to see me. Since it is warm out, he is shedding his coat in a massive way. Sometimes I'm surprised to see any fur left on the big guy because so much of it is either floating in the air or clinging to my clothes. After I took him back home yesterday morning, I went to my car to retrieve the lint brush I keep there for such emergencies. I was heading to the gym and didn't really want to take remnants of Max with me.

The lint sheet that was out was already used up so I began to pull it off to reveal a clean and usable sheet for my current need. However, because the roller had been in the heat of my trunk for quite some time, it had become VERY sticky. It took nearly all my strength to get the outer sheet off. I almost gave up but was determined to win the battle with this uncooperative lint roller. The harder I pulled, the stickier it seemed to get, almost in defiance of being used. I finally won and proceeded to use the lint roller to remove Max's hair from my clothes. I was ready to enter the building, clean and ready for a good workout.

But then I discovered something that Clark Griswold discovered in Christmas Vacation after cutting down the family Christmas tree. I didn't have sap on my fingers but there was something there almost as incessant - glue from the lint roller sheets. I quickly realized that I was in quite a funny situation. I couldn't touch anything with my right hand index and middle finger or my right thumb. I was attempting to put my hair in a pony tail in anticipation of exercising, putting my keys in my bag, carrying my water bottle and throwing my gym bag over my shoulder. Needless to say, this is not easy to do with only one hand. I decided I'd need to go to the bathroom to remove the pesky glue from my fingers so I proceeded there first. I washed up, using as much soap as I thought necessary to get the job done. I rinsed, checking to see if I'd accomplished the task at hand and then when I was satisfied with the results, I dried my hands in the hand dryer. At this point I decided I probably should USE the bathroom before beginning my workout routine. I entered the stall, ****, and then pulled toilet paper from the dispenser. And you can probably guess what happened next. Yep, you guessed it. I still had glue on my fingers. And, you can probably guess what my next challenge was. Yep, right again ... I had toilet paper stuck to those same fingers. So there I was, in a compromised position, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of that situation. I won't go into the nitty gritty details but let's just say I had to chuckle at myself before all was said and done. I finally figured out that using hand sanitizer will remove glue from skin. Who'd have thought?

By the time I got to the bench to begin my workout, I was quite amused. I often wonder what the aliens must think of us when they see stuff like that transpire. I'm pretty sure they are convinced that we are not an intelligent race and unfortunately sometimes our antics prove that point quite well.

IS BEAUTY REALLY WORTH IT?

You may have noticed that I've titled one of my pages "The Diet to End Them All." I have some ideas of what I want to do with this page but it will take some time. However, I'd like to start this section off with a funny post because it will take some time before I can provide you with the Perfect Diet.

I've got more than 10 books on my shelf that state the claim it is the best diet. I'm pretty sure that can't be true but I intend to read them all and try them out to find which book is the honest one. I am confident that I will gain wisdom and tips from each one and I probably won't find just one that is perfect for every body, including my own.

The book I am currently reading is so good and enjoyable and chock full of what I'm sure are great tips to be a healthier person. I am learning a lot and feel both inspired and empowered to make some positive healthy changes to my diet. I will not disclose the name of this book just yet because of what I want to share. I'm not sure if it will be looked at positively without more explanation (and based on my interpretation of the recipe) but I want to share this funny story from an experience I had today with one of the recipes.

I have a friend who lives on the east coast. She is very motivated to live a healthy lifestyle and she shares lots of healthy ideas and suggestions with me. Today I shared a recipe with her and her response was 'it looks time consuming and definitely fermented.' And then she said 'I wonder how it tastes.' My response was 'probably awful.' Then she said she was trying to be gentle with me because she didn't know if I liked the recipe. Then we both shared puke emoticons on the phone screen and LOL'd. 

Here is what all the fuss is about ...

The recipe calls for:

1 medium head of green cabbage, shredded in a food processor or finely sliced by hand

The liquid brine mixture is:

Water
Gingerroot
Unpasteurized miso paste

You are to blend the brine ingredients until smooth. Put the cabbage in a bowl, add the brine mixture and stir. Once well blended, you are to use a wooden spoon and tightly pack the mixture into sterilized jars. You have to leave room at the top for the mixture to expand. Add whole cabbage leaves to the top and tightly close the lids on the jars. Once the jars are full of this concoction, you place them in your pantry for FIVE days. After that time, you move the jars to your refrigerator and are to consume 1/2 cup of the 'salad' each evening during dinner. Apparently bubbling in the jar is a good sign. It means that the probiotics are teeming. Yay!

So is it just me and my east coast gf who think this sounds positively awful or does this sound positively awful to you as well? Apparently, it is crazy good for you because it is a homemade probiotic and enzyme salad but really? Gingerroot and miso paste? Ick!

Okay, okay, I realize I shouldn't judge a recipe by its ingredients but I can't help myself. I will be instituting one of the other recipes from this book beginning tomorrow and I will let you know how it goes. I have more hope for it than the one I've shared here. Apparently, to some folks, gingerroot and miso paste is worth it but I'm not fully convinced yet. The jury is skeptical. :-)

I SAW IT COMING

It had been more than 15 years since we’d brought the little guy into our home, getting him from the county shelter. We learned from our first visit to the veterinary office that he was probably about one year old based on his teeth and the fact that he appeared to be fully grown. And based on my internet research the Miniature Pinscher/Chihuahua mix breed, Sam had a life expectancy of 12-17 years.

As we approached Sam’s 16^th year of life, I realized he was probably nearing the end and I began to pray that God would help me through the difficult times ahead. Almost more than anything else I wanted to be sure I was with him when he passed away. I couldn’t bear the thought of my little constant companion dying alone.

My husband and I travel a lot and I was concerned that Sam would die at a time when we were gone. The thought made me so very sad. In December of 2016 we took a family trip to Hawaii for 10 days. I held my breath, hoping all was well with Sam while we were gone. We returned home on December 24 to a mature dog who had great difficulty reacclimating to his life in our home (he had been with the pet sitter for the 10 days of our absence). I thought for sure we were going to lose him on Christmas Day but I prayed a lot and asked God to be with us. We made it through the end of the year and Sam rallied after being in his own environment. As we began 2017 I noticed that Sam struggled more and more each day.

He no longer wanted to walk the neighborhood. His eyesight was nearly gone as was his hearing. He could no longer use his little doggie door to get outside so I began putting him out to do his business. He could no longer chew nor digest his regular kibble so I began giving him soft food.

During the month of January, I was terribly sad and didn’t quite know how to handle the transition we were experiencing. A very good friend suggested that I just enjoy each day with Sam and at the end of the day thank God for the time I had and hope for another day. So that is what we did. We enjoyed each day together. I began praying that God would take my little furry friend, perhaps in his sleep, so he wouldn’t suffer any longer and I wouldn’t have to make any horrible decisions.

At the beginning of February, my husband went on a 12 day trip. During that time, I felt like it was Sam’s time so I made an appointment with the vet. I labored over the appointment for a week, scheduling and cancelling several times. I continued to pray, asking God to take care of this situation for me. As the appointment drew ever near, I asked God for a sign. I wanted to be sure I was making the right decision. The three days leading up to the appointment all I could do was frown and cry.

My husband was out of the country so we had very limited communication. I kept asking God for a sign. Sam and I got in the car and I cried the whole way to the vet's office. We arrived a few minutes early so we sat in the car for a last few precious moments to be together. As I was getting ready to go inside the office, my husband called, from the Philippines, to check in. He asked why I’d made the decision and if it was really time. As I sat there talking with my husband, I realized this was the sign I’d been asking for. God had intervened and had my husband call within minutes of me walking into the vet’s office.

I went into the office out of respect for the doctor, since I’d made an appointment but I knew that it was not going to be the day I put our little man down. The vet came in and reached for Sam. He snipped at her, which he never did, and she told me that the day was definitely not Sam’s last, that he was clearly not ready to go. I shared my concerns with her, how I’d heard horror stories of people letting their pets go too long and I did not want to make Sam suffer. She said that it was better to wait too long than not long enough and told me to take Sam home and enjoy him for a bit longer. I cannot tell you how happy that made me. We nearly skipped out of the office in glee. I’m pretty sure Sam knew what had just transpired and he was as happy as I was.

We were able to enjoy Sam for another seven weeks, all the while I prayed that God would intervene. “God, please take this burden from me. Please take my little man so I don’t have to make the decision. I don’t want to make this decision.” I believe God answered me in a very strong and clear manner. His answer was “No, my dear child. I will not take this burden from you. I put Sam in your life 16 years ago. He has brought you much joy. You have benefited from his little life and he has given you his whole life. Now it is time for you to give back to him. You need to walk this journey. I will not make this easy for you but I will not leave your side. I will be with you through the pain and sorrow.”

And so it was. Scott and I enjoyed almost two more months with Sam and I relished every day. I learned how to care, both physically and emotionally, for a senior dog. I learned how to set my own selfish desires aside and be present for my little man who’d given so much. I learned to be a big girl and deal with big girl stuff.

The day of the appointment was one of the most difficult moments I’ve had. I could barely fathom what life would be like walking out of the office without Sam and yet I knew we’d made the right decision. He was ready to go. He gave no resistance. He was at peace and because of the journey I’d just walked, so was I. While I felt horribly sad about the end result, I felt peace. I knew it was time and I knew we’d made the best decision for Sam.

Even to this day, 15 months later, I am still very sad that my constant companion is gone. He remains fully lodged in my heart and I miss him on a daily basis. However, my resolve about our decision remains strong. I know we made the right choice. I know Sam's time had come. I know God was with me through every step of the process. I know it is okay.

Flirting with Mom

"Hey, mom!"

Sleeping Beauty

Using his new bed as a pillow

I was being shunned

Sporting a sweater

With BFF Wrigley

Sam loved watermelon

What a handsome boy!

Sunning with BFF

Loved my boy!

Journey vs. Destination

This topic has been discussed by many people over the course of many years. My bff and I used to have a conversation about this topic quite often. We discovered that I am most definitely a journey girl and she was an absolute destination girl.  I always ended with, ‘it’s all about the journey’ and she always said, ‘screw the journey.’  We had such fun teasing one another about this difference in our lifestyle.

Recently however, I began to give the idea more consideration.  There have been times in my life when I’ve struggled with my goals, my destination.  I had ideas of what I wanted to accomplish but struggled with the process.

And guess what?  As a result of that struggle, I wasn’t really enjoying the journey.  I felt hapless, like a drifter just floating through space and time, wandering around within my own self like a nomad.

So I made a short list of goals and I started working toward those goals. I exposed myself to many other schools of thought, through books, movies or internet videos that continued to foster my growth in the whole journey/destination argument.

At the end of that learning period, I sat down with keyboard in hand, and made a resolutions chart.  Each month has a specific goal.  A favored quote sits just below the ultimate goal and below that is a list of minor achievements that will enable me to check another item off my goals list or ultimate bucket list.

So, with all this in mind, it would seem that the destination is the goal.  How we get there is of paramount importance, dare I even say half of the process.  How we reach our goal, how we feel during the process of personal growth, will determine our mood at the finish line.  But we must get to the finish line.  Otherwise, it was just wandering through life. If we never reach the finish line, we never get the prize.

After much reflection, I’ve determined that each part of the journey and destination process is equally 50 percent.  You cannot happily have one without the other.  To be fully journey is to wander.  To be fully destination is meaningless.  To have each equally is lifelong success.

Where do you stand on this topic?

I'M NOT SURE THIS QUALIFIES AS HEALTHY

My husband and I went to the grocery store last week. He was wandering the market as he usually does and I was actually accomplishing the task of getting the items on our grocery list. I was in the dairy department, considering if I should get some greek yogurt when low and behold my eyes fell on these containers. I couldn't help myself but to stand in awe and take photos. Really? Isn't yogurt supposed to be healthy? Don't we eat yogurt because it is good for us?

 

So then why do you suppose Dannon, the company that manufactures YoCrunch, felt the need to add sugar, food starch, unenriched wheat flour, butter, chocolate, preservatives, additives and a host of other ingredients to an otherwise healthy food product? Their ad says "Yum ~ Just Yum. Smooth, yummy yogurt meets fun, tasty toppings." After the ad tells you how to mix up the yogurt with the toppings it goes on to say "because you deserve the best of both worlds." Wowza! Don't you just love the way companies market these days?

And while we are on the subject of a wolf in sheep's clothing ...

What happened to granola - granola used to be healthy - whole grains, fruits, nuts and seeds - but now we've added butter, shortening and sugar along with chocolate chips, sugary fruits and yogurt coverings so the average serving of granola has more than 400 calories. Yikes!

And energy bars - these were originally marketed to folks exercising (running, swimming, heavy weight lifting) but now the average consumer (who isn't working out) eats them in large quantity because they are marketed as a healthy snack. Some of these 'healthy' energy bars contain as much sugar as a candy bar while others contain artificial sweeteners for flavor and as an added bonus actually cause sugar cravings.

Let's discuss turkey bacon. While some believe this is a better option than the good stuff of pork bacon we must remember that turkey bacon is still processed meat treated with sodium, artificial colors, sodium nitrates and saturated fat. While it is somewhat healthier than pork bacon, there is not enough of a difference to warrant the switch. You might as well eat the real stuff, just cut back on the quantity.

I'm afraid we must talk about coconut oil too. I have personally fallen victim to the marketing ploy suggesting coconut oil is better than other oils. Here's the truth ... while coconut oil has protoprotective and anti- bacterial properties, it also has 115 calories and 12 grams of saturated fat per tablespoon. Its saturated fat creates LDL (the bad one) and has such a high percentage of fat, we really should leave it on the tree in its original form. The saturated fat content of coconut oil sits at a whopping 82%, compared to 63% for butter and 50% for beef fat. 

And for those of you considering going veggie - veggie burgers are touted as being a healthy alternative to the cow or turkey burger. However, read the label carefully because many of these so called healthy alternatives are bound together to create the burger texture with fillers like gums, yeast extract, and corn starch. They are loaded with soy, salt, fat and additives. While going vegetarian is certainly an option many are choosing these days, just be sure to read labels carefully or better yet, make your own version of the burger using more veggies and less yucky stuff.

How is it possible that we can ruin even the best intentions of being healthy by masking the truth, dare I say, lying to ourselves about what we are consuming. Eating yogurt with candy pieces and cookies is pretty much defeating the purpose of eating yogurt. If you want a cookie, eat a cookie. If you want to be healthy, choose the yogurt without all the garbage in it. You'll be better off in the long run.

House and Home

Sometime around March 1 my husband and I started the massive undertaking of remodeling our kitchen. Our home was built in the mid 1970s and we had only done minimal updating of our kitchen since we bought the house in 1992. I’d been asking for a remodel for approximately five years and was beginning to question if it would ever come to pass until one day I was standing in a small puddle of water created by a leak in our dishwasher. We made a homeowners’ claim on our insurance and received a nice little sum of money to repair the damage that had been done. It seems that was the final straw to get my husband to decide it was time to begin the remodel.

The demolition began. Cabinets were removed. Fixtures torn out. Appliances relegated to the living room or garage. Flooring ripped up. Big mess created!

Not only did we want to remodel the kitchen, we wanted to lay flooring that would make the kitchen, dining room, hall and living room look as if it was one big room. More flooring ripped up. More furniture moved. All personal items packed up and stored. Bigger mess created!

By the time all was said and done to demo the old and begin anew, the entire downstairs of my home was affected, including the garage. All fourteen hundred feet of my home was in complete and total chaos.

This caused me to want to go room to room and clean, purge, revamp, tidy up. Needless to say, this was a daunting task. But as I’ve been going about working to recreate an inviting space of comfort and cleanliness, I’ve been taking moments of time to consider the photos, the mementos, the knick-knacks that fill our home. I decided it was time to STOP and look at what I found important enough, valued enough to decorate our living space. As I was putting our home back together I saw our life in photos and trinkets from days gone by. Baby pictures of nieces and nephews. Souvenirs from our travels to foreign lands. Antiques passed on from prior generations. Treasured photos of loved ones who have passed on.

Over the past few days I have walked down memory lane and have enjoyed every.single.second. Prior to this project, I’d begun to think our home had become a big giant conglomerate of silly things that simply took up space. It was cluttered and dusty and unkempt. Now … well now these things have once again become the things I love, the tangible objects that we have spent a lifetime acquiring. I have a renewed appreciation for the things that collect dust in our home and I vow to not take them for granted again. The thousands of photos remind me that I come from a big and loving family and married into a big and loving family. These photos remind me that we have friends in all corners of the world. These photos remind me that we have not lived a lonely life. The trinkets remind me of a person or place that is part of our past. Each item I have displayed in our home carries a unique story and reminds me that I have lived an adventurous life. And I have done all this with the most amazing person, my husband Scott.

I’m so grateful Scott decided it was time to remodel the kitchen. There was an obvious benefit to it – increasing the value of our home. And as it turns out, there was also a silver lining – reminding me that this space we live in is truly our home! It tells our life story, almost without me needing to say a word.

MOM GAVE ME WINGS

(Part 1 of a 2 part series)

At about the age of 20, my mom handed me a set of wings. Perhaps they weren’t real wings, I couldn’t touch them, play with them or wear them as part of a Halloween costume but they were no less significant. She may have even tried giving them to me earlier in life but I remember the day I accepted her offer.

I grew up in a small town in Oklahoma. When I was entering into 4^th grade we moved to the big city, Tulsa. I went to elementary school, junior high and high school all in the same area. The schools were all next to one another within a square mile. Home was within walking distance. The church we attended was full of friends and family. My safety was never an issue but none-the-less I’m sure my mother worried about me daily, as all parents do. 

In 1985 I met the boy of my dreams. At the time, I’m not sure I realized that but it certainly didn’t take long for me to recognize Scott was different. He was kind and considerate and was nearly always happy. We dated for a few years while he was in Oklahoma going to school. However, once he graduated and before he got a full-time job, he returned to his home town and his parents’ house in Pennsylvania. We were in the midst of having a long-distance relationship when he suggested that we meet up in Missouri. His dad (who was from there was planning a trip to visit his family). Scott told me that if I would be willing to make the drive from Oklahoma to Missouri, he would make the drive from Pennsylvania to Missouri with his dad so we could see one another. I was a little apprehensive. After all, I was just 20 years old, a female and at that time had really not ventured too far from the safety net of home, especially by myself. I was contemplating the decision before me when mom entered the room. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” I explained the details of Scott’s offer. I imagine she could sense two things from me: first that I wanted to go and second that I was a tad frightened about doing this trip alone. She looked at me and with conviction in her voice said: “Brenda, if you don’t do this, you won’t ever do anything.” “Well, alrighty then mom. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel.” I was a little shocked at her sternness and blunt answer and wondered where it came from. Why did she have such an opinion? Wasn’t she worried that something horrible would happen to me on such a dangerous mission? Didn’t she care? Was she throwing me to the wolves at the ripe old age of 20? Well, of course not! My mother loved me so very much and wanted to see me prosper. She knew she’d raised me to be a good girl, a strong girl and a girl who trusted in God, just as she had done her whole life. She was taking the opportunity Scott had presented and run with it. I wonder if she thought to herself that this was the moment - that prized moment when you realize as a parent it is time to gently and lovingly assist your child from the nest. Did she see this as a moment in time to seize?

A few days later she helped me pack up my car. She and my step-dad made sure I had plenty of money and that the car was in good running condition and on my merry way they sent me.

I ended up having a wonderful time and the trip, while great fun, was pretty uneventful. When I look back at this experience one thing is glaringly obvious. My mother put my feet on a path that is vastly different than what it could have been. She nurtured a sense of adventure, a sense of calm, a sense of trust that all would be okay. That sense has stayed with me to this day. She gave me a healthy set of wings and encouraged me to fly. She loved me enough to let me go.

Since then, I have quite often lived a life very much outside a warm and fuzzy comfort zone. Scott and I have traveled the world. We’ve gone to several countries where the natives don’t speak English. We’ve traveled to countries still under a communist regime. We’ve traveled to countries where Americans are not a favored visitor. Some of the travels I’ve done alone. I’ve traveled to many states alone. I’ve made both road trips and air travel alone.

So why am I telling you this story? Because I find it interesting that after all these years of living an adventurous life it has dawned on me that my mother did me a great service. She pushed me beyond not just my own comfort zone but hers as well. Actually let me rephrase that. I’m not sure at the age of 20 I had a determined comfort zone but I know she pushed me beyond her own. For many years she was a single mom and greatly worried about her children. She had created our lives in such a way as to minimize danger and harm. We lived in a bit of a bubble in order to remain safe. And yet when presented with an opportunity to help me make my own way in the world, she took it. She set her own fears aside and pushed me to expand and explore. I remain forever grateful to my mother for this act of courage. (My mother was instrumental in yet one more event that determined my future but I'm saving that for Part 2.)

To Ponder: What do you do, as a parent, that might help your child find his or her way outside the comfort of the life you created for them? Are you giving your child wings or are you holding back for fear of potential pain and suffering? Are you encouraging them to live a life of wonder or sabotaging their inner growth? Are you planting faith or fear?

My mom most definitely gave me wings. She encouraged me to live a life of wonder. She planted faith. "Thanks Mom!"