Join Me in Helping
When I donate time, money, or knits to charity I like to know what I've donated is going to get to the people who need it.

Sending CIC knits to the distribution person, I know those knits will be traveling to Eastern Europe in the suitcases of adoptive parents. They're delivered right to the caretakers of the children who need them and love receiving them.

I always felt that sending money to disaster relief was like throwing it into a black hole until I stumbled onto the Salvation Army. They have the reputation for being there in times of trouble and delivering what is needed to the people who really need it.

Click here to read about how they're on the spot delivering food, water, and shelter to victims and first responders of Katrina. Then, if you want to be sure your help is really going to help, click on the donation button and join me supporting this pragmatic and generous organization.

Sydney and Sunny
I swiped this picture from Tah Tales, my son's blog.

Granddaughter Sydney's first two teeth came in with hardly a whimper from her, the smiling girl with the happy personality. I sure wish I could give her a hug.

Sunny
Thanks again for all the concern about Sunny. She's acting happy and healthy and I've stopped worrying about her. When the antibiotics are gone in a little less than two weeks, she'll have another blood draw.

The ladies at doggy school, several who work in vet offices and have seen everything, think she may have had a low grade bladder infection that didn't show up in the urine. I like that theory.

Tale of Two Mugs
I've been drinking out of the same coffee mug every morning for (I'm guessing at this) seven years.

It's a blue and gray ceramic mug with dog silhouettes on the side. Possibly they are supposed to be wolves, but I think of them as dogs.

The shape tapers in toward the top which is great for not slopping that first cup of morning coffee when I'm barely awake. I usually carry the full mug back to bed, throw on an extra pillow to prop up my head, and snuggle in with Bob and the little dogs to drink my coffee in the almost dark.

The blue dog mug was a gift from sister Carrie in North Carolina. I remember getting it for Christmas. When I opened the package I thought the mug was nice. I didn't realize at the time it would become a favorite possession.


I drank out of the same coffee mug at work for twenty years.

It's a white porcelain mug with two very 80's looking professional women - one on each side - and the words

"Forget the whales... Save the working woman."

This mug was a gift from my then fourteen year old daughter. I don't remember the occasion. I do remember laughing at the sentiment and thinking that maybe she did have a little inkling how difficult it was to be a full time working mother.

Daughter Heather doesn't remember giving me the mug. That's OK. There are tons of important things that I don't remember. I enjoy imagining her seeing this mug in the store and thinking "My Mom would like that." Knowing Heather, it must have happened something like that. And she was right - I like it.

Now that I'm no longer working, this mug mostly sits in the cupboard. But it's full of history and I intend to keep it for the rest of my life.


Note: This post was originally posted on Seasons of Violet, November 3, 2003. Minor changes have been made.

Update on Sunny
Thank you for all the kind words and well wishes for Sunny. The blood work news was good, considering all the awful things it could have been.

Sunny has an elevated white cell count (19,800. Normal is 6,000 to 17,000.) indicating an infection. She has antibiotics to take for two weeks before getting tested again.

She's looking and feeling healthy and playful. I feel like I've been through the wringer. Those who love a pet will understand.

Please Pee in the Pan
The reason I am stressed out and haven't been online is a very long story which, to most people, would be completely boring. So I'm going to try and tell it in as few words as possible.

While running a urine check on Sunny to attempt to figure out why her incontinence medicine wasn't working, the vet found her specific gravity to be way below normal range. This greatly concerned him and he proceeded to tell us all the horrible - and mostly incurable - things it might indicate.

He's been running tests on her for the past two days and I have been knitting and sitting by the phone to hear the results. Except, of course, when I've been outside trying to slide a pan under her butt when she pees.

We've gone to this vet for fourteen years now. He's extremely competent. Unfortunately, I also know him to be pragmatic and willing to wait and see how things develop when there's no urgency about a condition. Therefore, I have to conclude that even though Sunny seems healthy, this could be the start of something awful.

The big news from the blood work should come tomorrow morning, when I'll be knitting and sitting by the phone.

End of Summer
To an unknowing observer, this picture looks like a weedy field with some willow trees (left) and a tulip tree (right) in the background.

What this picture, taken today, really represents is the End of Summer.

See the golden tone of the weeds? That's the goldenrod just starting to bust out into golden bloom. The goldenrod towers above all the other weeds. Some patches of it are taller than me. By the first week in September, the entire field will be screaming gold and looking as if there's nothing growing there but goldenrod.

Autumn in SW Michigan is a beautiful season, but way way too short. With just a little imagination, summer lasts until the middle of September. By the first of November the leaves are on the ground, the days are cold and short, and everyone has located their mittens and boots.

This very week my mother mentioned tentative Thanksgiving plans. Could it really be that close?

Even more horrifying, last Thursday evening Gail at doggy school asked us to start thinking of ideas for the Briarwood Dog Training entry in the Kalamazoo Holiday Parade, formerly known as the Kalamazoo Christmas Parade and still frequently called by that name. One of her first thoughts was to have the dogs be sheep and their people be shepherds. Fourteen pound Pappy will need to be a newborn lamb. At least he's the right color.

I am just NOT ready to think about Christmas yet. Please. No.

Second Doggy Beach Party
Three weeks ago after the first doggy school picnic at Hagar Shores on Lake Michigan, we immediately planned a second.

Last night was the second doggy beach party. Like the first, the bring-a-dish food was great, the weather was beautiful, the company of other dog lovers was very pleasant, and the dogs had a great time.

Unlike last time, I brought Pappy instead of Sunny and the waves were gentle enough so the little dogs could swim.

Teacher/trainer Gail took Pappy out in water way over his little doggy head and gentle sat him down in the lake. I was waiting for him at the shoreline and he swam right in to me.

Check out his tail. I never noticed until I saw this picture that he kept his fluffy tail up over his back and it didn't get completely wet. In doggy body language that means he was happy. Or at least I'd like to think he was happy.



From left to right:

• Jazz the Maltise
  
• Sis the toy Poodle
  
• Molly the Sheep Dog mix. Jazz, Sis, and Molly are all part of the same human family.
  
• Dahle the Bull Terrier
  
• Pappy the Papillon, looking wet because he is wet
  
• Riley the Boxer mix
  
• Favor the Australian Cattle Dog
  
• Downy the Chow mix
  
• Casper the Corgi
  
• Effie the Corgi

Please let me know if I misspelled a dog's name and it will be corrected.

Both pictures were taken by Downy's Mom, Anna. Thanks Anna.

Pictures From Idaho
While we were in Idaho, we did something that I've always wanted to do - we took a ride in a sea plane. It was a beautiful flight. This is one of the pictures I took from the air.

Selected pictures from the trip are in a Picturetrail album called "Trip to Idaho, August 2005. Take a peek if you're interested.

And, if you want to read and see more, Son John has written a blog post about our visit showing some of his pictures. The post includes a fascinating picture of me, first thing in the morning, in my nightgown.

I thought I raised him better than that.

Seasons Change but Tattoos are Forever
I saw a young woman with massive snake tattoos on her arms and shoulders. Oh honey, I don't think that was a smart thing to do. Don't I remember that it hurts to have tattoos removed?

Life changes us. Our interests change as we age. While it might be interesting to have a tattoo history of things we used to find important, it's more likely that we don't want to be so frequently reminded.

Thinking of my own life in ten year intervals, here's my imaginary tattoo history:

1955, 10 years old - New tattoo is a picture of Howdy Doody.

1965, 20 years old - New tattoo has hearts and says "Harold Forever".

• Harold was my first husband. We married in 1965.
  
• Howdy Doody was removed in 1958, as soon as I could earn enough baby sitting money to pay to for the procedure.

1975, 30 years old - New tattoo has flowers and says "Bob Forever".

• Bob is my second husband. We married in 1975.
  
• You can bet that "Harold Forever" has been removed.

1985, 40 years old - New tattoo is a picture of running shoes.

• I imagine myself finding the meaning of life during a runner's high.
  
• "Bob Forever" still works, except I'm about twenty-five pounds heavier. The tattoo is looking a little distorted.

1995, 50 years old - New tattoo is a Christian cross.

• I'm a new Christian and it really is the meaning of life.
  
• The running shoes have to go. I have arthritis and a bad back. I'm lucky I can walk.
  
• "Bob Forever" still works, except I'm now about fifty pounds heavier. The tattoo is looking very distorted.

2005, 60 years old - There is no new tattoo.

• Can't decide between a dog, a violet, knitting needles, my laptop, or the names of my granddaughters.
  
• "Bob Forever" still works. I lost forty pounds so now it's only distorted by the wrinkles.

Note: This post was originally posted on Seasons of Violet, September 22, 2003. Minor changes have been made.

Home
Here I am sitting on the couch in Idaho with my two wonderful granddaughters. What great memories.

The trip was wonderful. I have many many pictures which are not uploaded yet. I'll post the link when they're ready to view for all who are interested.

Ten days without knitting. It was a nice break. Today I picked up the needles and knit a few inches on the back of the Hanover Jacket.

There are two more posts I had ready to publish while I was gone that never made it. I'll be posting them in the next few days while I catch up on everything and life returns to normal.

How the Greatest Trumpet Maker in the World Got His Name


Monette -The Greatest Trumpet Maker in the World is my little brother Dave. That's Dave on the left with our Mom. On the right is Wynton Marsalis with one of Dave's masterpieces.

Back in the 50s when Mom was pregnant for Dave, Davy Crockett was very popular on the Sunday evening Walt Disney show. Mom, mother of three girls and sure she was going to have another, said that if she had a boy she'd name him Davy Crockett.

Dave was born a few months early and weighted in at three pounds three ounces. His eldest sister (me) remembered what Mom had promised and knew Mom would keep her word and name him Davy Crockett.

Mom fudged a little and named him David.

She told all the relatives that he was named after the David in the Bible because he was so little and had so much to overcome. Made a great story. But now the truth has been published on the internet. The Greatest Trumpet Maker in the World was named after Davy Crockett. I was there. Trust me, it's true.

Note: This post was originally posted on Seasons of Violet, November 30, 2003. Minor changes have been made.

I'm on vacation but I'd still love to read your comments.

Up Up and Away
When I found these lucky four leaf clovers in the middle of July, 2004, I expected something special to happen, and it sure did.

First I learned that son John and daughter-in-law Anne were coming to visit, their first trip to Michigan in six years. They live in Idaho.

The second clover's luck was extra special. I learned I was going to be Grandma in eight months.

Wednesday, August 3, 2005, granddaughter Kimmy and I are headed to Idaho to visit our four month old cousin/granddaughter Sydney and her parents, John and Anne.

We've been talking about taking a trip out west to see Uncle John and Aunt Anne for several years now. The time has come to actually do it and we're both excited.

This will be Kimmy's first plane trip and first time to see mountains. She has window seats on all four flights.

We live in SW Michigan. You can't get there from here without at least one connecting flight. We're flying Kalamazoo to Minneapolis to Spokane.

If you see a midsize rental car in eastern Washington or northern Idaho being driven by a gray haired grandma who looks lost, honk and wave.

Travel day to return is August 10, big long nap day is August 11, and things should be back to normal by August 12.

There will be some non-knitting related posts while we're gone if I can find a few spare minutes to sit at John's computer. But the granddaughters take priority over posting for the next eight days.