Intention vs. Resolution

Like everyone else, I have made my fair share of resolutions for the incoming new years of my life. That all stopped, maybe ten years ago? It could be longer. What's the point? I'm not going to do it anyway. I'm so stubborn that I won't even listen to myself..... 

A few years back I started celebrating the winter solstice. I'm mildly into that kind of thing, I think the rituals are cool.  I would consider myself a spiritual person, who is (or tries to be) in tune with nature, so it fits. On the evening of December 21st, when we burn the Yule log, it is a time to set your intentions for the coming year. So, same thing right? Actually, no. Intention holds a more powerful meaning, to me anyway. When I write my intention(s)on a piece of paper for the coming year, they are things I am firm on doing. I couldn't tell you what I wrote in 2023, but my life has taken a big swing, so the follow through worked. 

I will probably never forget what I wrote this year, but I'm not telling. I talked over the incident with my "Guru" Preston, (my nephew) and he said to keep it between me and the Universe. This is what happened.  Picture it, Northern Wisconsin, 2024......

We had just returned home from Christmas with The BEM's family. He wanted to move the small firepit to the front yard for the winter season and set about doing that. I made sure he didn't forget the Yule log I had picked out, and I went in to feed the cats and write my intentions. I wrote three very unrelated things on the paper, then I shook some cinnamon (for prosperity) and nutmeg (protection) on it, folded it up, and headed outside. 

The Brown Eyed Man had the fire set up, and I popped the lighter out of my pocket, and got her going.  There wasn't much of a wind, so it was pretty easy. Once the fire was started, I tucked my little paper into the middle and sat down on my chair on the porch of the shed, to visualize my intentions while watching the fire creep closer to them. The fire reached its peak, and the little paper burned quickly. I kid you not, and I have a witness, the minute it burned up the entire fire went out. Boom. Just like that. There was no wind. 

The Brown Eyed Man and I both kind of jumped with a start. He said, "What the...?" and I asked if he had ever seen a fire do that before. His answer was no, and I haven't either. Bonfires normally go out in more of a gradual way, and you can tell when you need to move to add fuel to the flame to keep it alive.  I sat there staring for a moment or two, and then I said, "Accepted? Denied? Get your affairs in order???"

Later that night I told Preston what happened, and his take on it, was that something accepted my intentions and shut it down firmly before anything could be added or changed. We also agreed it was best to keep what I wrote between me, and the universe. He didn't even want me to tell him.

So tonight, I make no New Years resolutions, because I already have shifted a few things, and I INTEND to keep it that way. 

If you make resolutions tonight, or you don't, I wish you a very Happy New Year.  Please know that no matter what, you are enough, as you are, right now in this moment! Good-bye 2024, thank you for the lessons learned.

Cocoa and Memories

 Christmas this year has been going on since before the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers were eaten.  Turkey day was late on the calendar, and our first get together was early.  I eagerly popped the little tree up, in the hopes that this year our cat, Gracie (2) would let it stay that way. (she has) I had crocheted the most amazing giant rubber duck for the youngest guest, and I was so excited to give it to her! I also made a red and white scarf for it. 

Our friends, and also neighbors down the road, have become like family to us.  Their youngest sometimes slips and call me Grandma, and the oldest calls me Auntie on the regular, which is certainly fine with me. The kids come over to play from time to time, and their dad is like a son to the Brown Eyed Man.  If you saw them together, you would think he WAS the Brown Eyed Man Jr. Their Mom is very crafty, and likes to read, so we are never at a loss for things to talk about!  

This year there were some homemade cocoas included in the gift they gave us! The other night I tried White Chocolate, and I thanked Steph again, telling her how good it was, and that it was my favorite hot chocolate ever, even though I hadn't tried the others yet. Yesterday afternoon felt like a good time for a hot cocoa break, and I decided to give the plain old chocolate a try.  When I opened it, it smelled like the cocoa frosting my Grandma Meys used to make. MMMMmmmm I was eager to try the cocoa.  When I did, I got the surprise of my life.  It was identical to the hot chocolate my dad used to make for us, on the stove, when we were kids.  Nothing I've had since that time has matched it.  Nothing.  I was instantly transported back to my parents' pumpkin orange kitchen, with the avocado green appliances.  It was 1970 something, and we had just all returned from the local outdoor ice-skating rink. The three of us, (Davy, number 4, would have been small in this memory.) plus friends were crammed at the table, talking and laughing, waiting for Dad to finish up the hot chocolate he had made for us. 

It's something how a smell, sound, or a taste, can bring us right back to our childhood.  I've worked really hard over the years to create fun memories for the kids in my life, blood related, or not. Cocoa costs almost nothing, but those kiddo's who coming running through here in the summertime always ask for it, until I remind them there are popsicles (freezies) in the fridge. I never thought about it, until this very moment.  When I think about traditions, and making memories, I always give my Mom the credit for instilling that in me and making our holidays so much fun. Dad was there too though, on the outskirts of it for sure, and I always think of him on the 4th, because he really loved setting off fireworks, and finding the best spot to watch the big ones.  I had forgotten about he cocoa and the skating.  That, my friends, is a New Years memory.  Stay tuned, and Steph, thanks for the cocoa! 

In The Meantime

I feel like the time between Christmas and New Years is like a pause, the "meantime" if you will. A space where the year slows before saying good-bye. I am normally working during this time, but it's still hard to know the date, let alone the day of the week. If I am on vacation, which I happen to be this year, I have no idea which way is up. 

 I held pretty firm with my weight loss during the holiday season, but in the "meantime" I don't seem to care. I'm not pigging out, just enjoying treats and cooking some of the things I've avoided, but love. Salad is waiting for me when I'm ready to get back to it. I've had a vegetable or two. 

 I'm sitting here at 9pm, writing in my jammies. Yep, the jammies I have had on all day. I think I'll be wearing jammies all weekend. Oh wait, we're going out for dinner tomorrow, so I guess not. Oh well, I can wear them, shower and go for dinner, and put another pair on when I get home! In "the meantime" it is important to be cozy.

 I have gotten some laundry done, dishes washed, dried, and put away, and a bit of clutter cleaned up, so at least I'm being somewhat productive. Not as much as I had hoped, but at least it's something. It's raining and gloomy out too, so that doesn't help. We would really have had a nice snowstorm if the temps were where they should be. As it is, the yard is flooded, and the snow we had is gone. It will all turn to glare ice in a few days when the temps go back to closer to normal. "The meantime" is better (in my opinion) with fun winter activities! Sledding, skiing, ice skating, and then hot cocoa afterwards. Well, I put some cocoa in my coffee this morning......

 I've listened to quite a bit of my audio book today too, "The Giver of Stars" by Jojo Moyes. Good story about some strong women. Highly recommend. I like to listen while I crochet, and I also finished the cuffs on Taters Christmas sweater (just a little late) and one pocket. I started a birthday present for Leah too, and reorganized my yarn stash. Maybe I haven't been totally unproductive today after all! It's hard to tell in "the meantime".

 My traditional holiday decorating begins mid-December, and I'm loathed to put it away New Year's Day. This year, perhaps because it has been up since the minute Thanksgiving ended, I've had enough of it. I thought about taking it down this evening while The Brown Eyed Man hangs out with his buddy at the garage, but instead I decided to make it cozy and dark in here, with just the tree and the candles. If nothing else, "the meantime" is cozy.

 I'm trying to watch "The Holiday", but the internet is being kind of a ..... today. When I'm finished writing this I'll try again, or go back to my book, and enjoy the comforting silence of "the meantime". Whatever you're up to, or not as the case may be, during this "meantime" between holidays, I hope that you take some time to slow down and enjoy the cozy. comfy silence.

The Queen's Corner: Christmas Calendar

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The Queen's Corner: Cider and Cocoa (and Cotton)

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The Queen's Corner: Santa

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The Queen's Corner: Wish Book

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The Queen's Corner: Sneak A Peek

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500 Days of Writing

Good Morning! Only two more sleeps to Christmas! I stopped in this morning to write about "Goovermas", or "Sister Christmas", which my sister and I will celebrate today, but when I popped open the blog I noticed a number that I hadn't seen before. 499 I have written four hundred and ninety nine blog posts since 2010. How on earth is that possible? Think of how many there would be if I actually had written semi consistently all this time. I'm trying to change my mindset from, "I'm going to be a writer" to, "I am a writer." That stat definitely helps! My mind immediately kicked into fast forward mode. What to write about? I'm not spending one minute of this milestone on anything political. An old fashioned Christmas story? Eh? I have plenty of those in the archives, I could set up attatchments to them at the end. Goovermas? Sister Christmas? Winter Solstice, and a very strange thing that happened?(that one is definitely coming) There's no way to work through all the scramble in my head to decide which one deserves the honor of being number 500. I still have to get ready to go out into this day. I have Sister Christmas, coffee with Patsy,(that's an upcoming blog also) then work from three until at least nine. I have nothing profound to say about this milestone, except thank you. Thank you for reading, especially for those of you that have been on the entire journey. If you haven't read my earlier blogs,they start out with a lot of online dating nonsense, and the earlier days of The Blogger and The Brown Eyed Man. (Holy crap, I might have just titled a book right there.) Throw in some stories about growing up in the 1970's (GenX O.G.and proud of it!)and just general everyday life and lessons I had learned at that point. I would highly recommend checking it out! I think I'm going to give it a re-read this holiday season, to mark where I've been, and how far I've come along. Have a wonderful Merry Christmas my friends! Tomorrow I'll re-post my Christmas Past stories, today I have to get my feet on the ground to celebrate the present!

Ring The Bells

 Every year, a few days before Christmas, I re-post this quote from Leonard Cohen.  It speaks to me so deeply.  

It's ok to not be ok. It's ok to chuck it in the fuck it bucket if you really aren't feeling it, and maybe try again next year, or not. There really are no rules. I think we're raised to feel that there are specific holiday goals to achieve, and we are further conditioned by all the holiday programs, commercials, and Christmas decor tossed in our face everywhere we go beginning in October, and I'm here to reassure you that there are absolutely not. You are free to celebrate in your own style, on your own terms.  

Adversely, if you are deep in the depths of grief, but you feel the urge to celebrate, that's ok too!  Grief is a weird thing.  After we lost Cece I totally scrapped Thanksgiving.  We stayed home and had a turkey breast with some store-bought sides. The Brown Eyed Man was in heaven. I only wanted outside lights at Christmas that year,  but I did set up just the tree as we got closer to the day.  I took it all down immediately after.  I'm sure the kids still came over for Goovermas, because I would never, ever, ever short them on anything.  No matter how I felt. Now that I think on it, they came for New Years Eve, and we had a bonfire, and burned pages of the calendar, talking about the year that was, and how we felt about it.  (Something they wanted to do. ) We ate good food and played our favorite games.  I'll write about Goovermas in another blog, it deserves its own space. 

In my opinion,  celebrating with little kids (although my nieces and nephews are young adults now) changes things a bit.  They deserve to have good Christmas memories, period.  That doesn't mean breaking the bank, and it doesn't mean going all out. It means doing what you can with what you have, with a smile on your face, and the love you have for them in your heart. They do not need, or deserve to carry the weight of your grief, trauma, or bad holiday memories, period. If they, themselves are struggling with something, give them the grace to choose what they want to do.

" There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in."

My Mom made Christmas magic, and I'm sure she was tearing her hair out. Those memories are where I've spent a few (thankfully) Christmas Days over the years, until the kids came over, and then I put on my big girl panties and hopefully made the most wonderful memories for them. 

So be kind to yourself, and if you are struggling, please seek the help you need. 

The One Where It Turns Political

 Good morning! Santa arrived early, and I'm coming to you from my Christmas present, a brand-new laptop.  I have decided to get serious about my writing, which includes blogging and a couple of other projects, so I needed the tool to do so!  This morning, when I started to rant on a Facebook post, I realized that I have a much better platform for that. :) It also gives anyone who is tired of my opinion, but likes to follow along for the comedy, or just because I'm cute, the opportunity to scroll on by.  I'm going to try and limit the drive by politics on that platform, when I can resist the urge to do so.  Be forewarned, if you pop in here from now on, you'll be getting the full force of my opinion. 

Can you believe that I haven't had a computer for five or six years??  I handle my life on my phone, and I can blog with the phone too, but it is very tedious. This goes much faster, as I can type almost as fast as I think. I also don't have access to comments and other stats on the phone ap. Specifically, the stat that tracks views of the blog since I began to write in 2010. "The Queen's Corner" has had over 36,000 views.  Wow!  That is exciting and humbling all at the same time.  I suspect some folks who don't know me personally are lured in by the title, perhaps thinking Queen has a different meaning.  In this case, no.  It's my family nickname, well deserved, cherished, and accurate. 

Wasn't this supposed to be political?  That's how my mind works, seven different directions at once.  I wanted to write about the laptop the other day, but didn't find (ok, make) the time, so that blog was still simmering on the backburner when I became irritated about the incoming regime this morning.  Now I've lost steam, but I still have a thought or two. Here goes!

Wait your turn donald, (small d intentional) or is it elon? (again, intentional small d) I'm a little confused about who was elected.  You begin Circus 2.0 in January.  

Dear reader, please remember, for the most part when the ranting and tweeting start it's all nonsense. -Meant to confuse, I think, or maybe they are just confused themselves and need Civics 101.  I should teach a course, "That's not how that works." The USA is a democracy. There are policies, procedures, laws, and hopefully enough good people in Congress to stand up for what is right.  The Republicans have a real opportunity here (the actual GOP, not MAGA) to stand up, take control, and get some good work done for the people who elected them.  They could easily just keep the clown in the circus, and he'd be the lame duck that he in fact is. Would that hurt their future in politics?  Nope. If I was on any one of their political teams, I would be shouting from the rooftops that this was their moment to shine. Take the reins, work across the aisle, ignore the quacking from the White House, and get back to work for the American people. 

Would I agree with the policies of a GOP controlled Congress?   Hahahahahaha nope. However, it would be nice to be able to argue policy, instead of having constant battles about morality, empathy, and nonsense. I'm tired of trying to explain why you should care about other people.  I'm tired of the hypocrisy of people being "religious" and not caring about their fellow human beings. Im beyond tired of the cesspool of humanity that represents MAGA. If I can't pass a background check, I cannot do my job.  Why should you be able to???

This country was built on checks and balances, to keep the branches of government fairly equal. It's true, that we are tilting in a wrong, and in my opinion very dangerous direction, but We the People, are the stop gap here.  The quackers are hopeful that the nonsense will make us numb. Don't fall for it.  I'm not saying pay rabid attention to the news, you'll go bonkers.  I'm saying find a couple reliable, responsible sources (no, that is not FOX news, just stop it) and just keep an eye on the bobber. For heaven sake, speak up, speak out, donate to the causes you believe in. We CAN hold the line. We HAVE to. 

The Life of a Hooker

Sorry to disappoint, but this blog is about crocheting! 

I grew up watching my Mom, her sister in law Aunt Dorothy, and my Paternal Grandmother crochet. Grandma made us beautiful blankets for our twin beds, and Mom made us ponchos and a ripple afghan that was on our couch for years. My Aunt made me a couch cover when I got married, and she made "Piggy" whom my brother Jerry (54) still has. I know they made many more things, but these are the few I remember. 

I asked my Mom to teach me to crochet, and I learned how to do a chain, but that's about it. She claimed she didn't have the patience to teach me. (She had been a nun, and a teacher, so add that one to my therapy list.) I believe my Aunt taught me how to single crochet, and I made a little outfit for a stuffed toy. When I worked as a childcare teacher in my early twenties another teacher used to crochet at nap time. She taught me enough to make a shell stitch baby blanket. All new babies in my life for the next ten years received one of those! I also made the blanket that still is on my bed today (30 years later) with the mile a minute pattern. 

That was the extent of my adventures in hooking, until the pandemic hit in 2020. I began teaching myself other stitches, and creating lapghans that I would randomly give to people. I also did several afghans. In 2023 I learned to do amigurumi, (stuffed animals etc) more specifically gnomes, and I've probably made over 50. I have even designed a few of my own that were Star Wars themed. 

I always have at least three projects going. I just love to create, and see what I can come up with! I can't share a picture of my most impressive project to date, because it's a Christmas present for my two year old Great Nephew. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't find a pattern, so I figured it out myself by following a picture on a graph. I started over no less than 5 times, but the final result is worth it! 

I am currently working on a sweater for my niece for Christmas, and for some reason I put the hook through the high bun that is in my hair to hold it for a minute. Three hours later, I got up from a chair on the porch and heard a metal clinking noise as something hit the deck. I couldn't imagine what happened. Yes, the hook had fallen out. I didn't believe it! How had it stayed that long? While it was in my hair I had cooked and cleaned for a Christmas gathering, walked all over the yard with the dogs, including way down to the mailbox, and somehow I didn't lose it! If I had, I never would have remembered that the hook had been in my bun in the first place, and I would have lost my marbles tearing this place apart looking for it. Then the drama of remembering what size it was and scrambling to see if I have another. My niece is coming next weekend, and I am no where near done. 🙃 Whew! 

My first adult sweater! The one I'm working on is the same, but in in greens, and I basically have a vest at the moment. Time to get hooking!!

Be Who You Are!     

  Auntie Jo

Extra Greatful

Happy Thanksgiving!

Occasionally during the month of November I will participate in "thirty days of thankful", where every day you post one thing you are thankful for on your socials. It can be a very good reset if I am in a crabby place mentally, but I try really hard to find something to be grateful for every day, so this year I decided not to. 

As I mentioned in my last post, my brother and his wife came to dinner today, along with my nephew and his new wife. We had a really great visit, I definitely don't get to see those young adults enough! 

Life is funny sometimes. 

Twenty years ago, late on a very cold Thanksgiving night, (our 1st without Mom) several of our family members traveled to the nearest airport to meet the newest member of our family, my nephew, The Artist Formerly Known As Pablo! (He goes by Paul these days) His parents, and Oma (Grandma) traveled to Guatemala, to become his foster parents and bring him home here to the United States. 

Look how young we were! 

The next day we (Aunties and cousins)  gathered at their home to really meet Pablo.  He barely spoke any English, but he was a happy, confident little bugger. 

It's hard to believe that twenty years have gone by. I meant to get a picture with them today, but we were too busy eating, and talking, and going over photo albums of pictures of little Pablo. I took them out to show his wife what a cute lil guy he was, because (drum roll please!) They are expecting a baby in the spring!! 

Holidays can be bittersweet time. We create new memories, enjoying the loved ones we have here, while honoring old traditions, missing those who are not. My heart is incredibly full with all of my blessings, and I am

I can't wait to meet my newest Great! ❤️ 

Thanksgiving Eve

Originally published Nov 2011) The pumpkin pie just came out of the oven, and the sausage stuffing is made.   The house smells amazing!  Is it wrong that I'm cooking up the little bit of stuffing that wouldn't fit in the baking dish for dinner tonight?  I'm going to watch "Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" (which we had to dvr because I was cooking) and eat stuffing.  Sounds just about perfect to me.

When I make things like stuffing, or dressing if you prefer, I always think of my Mom.  We only had her home made dressing (her word choice) once a year, at Thanksgiving.  Every Thanksgiving Eve, after the dishes were washed and the children were otherwise occupied, Mom would head back to the kitchen, in her housecoat, and begin the dressing prep.  Pretty soon the smell of celery and onion would come wafting into the other room.  If you were sneaky enough (me) you could grab a piece of dried out, torn up white bread that was sitting on the kitchen table in her big brown bowl and dip it into the buttery, celery, onion, goodness........and burn your tongue for you efforts.  Mom would be too busy cleaning out the turkey to notice.

By the time she finished there were usually two, if not three or four sets of eyes watching as she mixed the dressing and stuffed the turkey with it.  I don't do that, it's supposed to be dangerous.  However, for 20 plus years none of us ever got sick.........  Then she wrapped him up and popped him back in the fridge til morning.

My stuffing recipe is very different from my Mom's.  The only part of hers that I liked was the actual bread/onion/celery.  The apples and giblets would be picked out and set aside.  Mine has sausage and mushrooms, and it is da bomb!  It is also done, so I have to go now!

My holiday memories are so precious to me, but I always look forward to making new ones.  Times change, people come and go, old traditions are put aside, in favor of new ones.  It's all good.  It's life. As my mother used to say, "Life is what you make it." and with our holiday traditions she made ours very memorable.

Because I love this story, and it's my ultimate favorite Thanksgiving tale, and because he's coming to my house for the first time tomorrow for dinner (I wont give him stemware.) here is a holiday bonus blog:  http://queenie930.blogspot.com/2011/11/goblet-incident-of-76.html

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!!

Pass The Cranberries

Thanksgiving is upon us again. This year I will be cooking dinner for my brother and his family, which means The Artist Formerly Known As Pablo, and his lovely wife will be joining us! I don't get to spend nearly enough time with that boy, but hopefully that will change now that they are back in this area. 

I know I have a few other blog posts about Thanksgiving, you'll definitely want to find the one with my best holiday story, involving Pablo's father when he was little. I'm currently writing with my phone, and I'm uncertain how to link to it. If I figure it out, I'll put it here.* Santa is bringing me a lap top this year,  because I'm dusting off this corner. I have a lot to say. A.Lot.To.Say.

The other day I saw this

and it made me laugh, because the top picture was my Mom, and the bottom has always been me.

Then I started thinking about her homemade cranberry Jelly, and it took me right back to the kitchen of my youth. Come along with me! Picture it, 1970 something. The cozy kitchen is painted pumpkin orange, and the appliances are avacado green. There is a big kettle on the stove, boiling fresh cranberries. Mom, or Grandma Leni, who lived with us on the weekends would be minding it, and stirring occasionally. Maybe we were allowed to when we were older, but not then. 

On the kitchen table Mom had her fruit press set out in a bowl. I thought maybe my sister still had it, but no. Neither of us like cranberries, so it's gone. I can't find an accurate picture on the internet, but here is today's version. Similar, but more flimsy. 

It took a half an hour just to figure out what this is called! When I put "cranberry press 

" in the Google machine it showed me some festive holiday adult beverages. 

To the best of my recollection the steaming hot berries were drained, (maybe not totally)  then poured into this press a bit at a time. MOM would use the pestal looking thing a-ma- bob, which was bigger than in the picture, and stained red from years of squishing cranberries, to mash the cranberries, and she did let us help with that. I remember the pungent, sour smell, and the heat coming off the mush left behind. 

The liquid was returned to the pot, sugar was added, and it went back on the burner. More stirring, more bubbling, then like magic, it was jelly!

Next up on the kitchen table were the iced tea glasses. We would see these tall amber glasses on the table for dinner on very hot summer days, (so....twice a summer?) and then Mom used them to serve the cranberry gel.(what she called it)  the glasses were pretty similar to this, and also no longer in the family. 

All of this would have happened the Saterday or Sunday before Thanksgiving, and I'm sure we used the gel as a side right up til Christmas. Uh, we, meaning other people in my family, definitely not me, and apparently not my sister either. 

It was tempting though. The jelly smelled good, and was such a pretty red color! I know I tried it every year, I still do. I always think that it was a mistake, I must really like it. I do not. I also burned myself every single year, because I had to touch that beautiful red jelly, newly in the amber glass. It was too tempting! I would still do it now, if I could. 

I have never made the gel myself, mine comes from a can, and for the first time in my life I didn't even buy one. No one likes it, no one eats it, why do I buy it?  However, I will miss it. That little blob of gel on a plate, with rings around it from the can. Is it even Thanksgiving without it?  There are a couple days left, who knows......

Happy Thanksgiving!  Maybe this year I will put the turkey right side up in the roaster! 😀 

*In trying to find the story of my naughty brother, I found "Thanksgiving Eve" which I originally published in 2011, and at the end of that blog is a link to the one I was talking about! Due to my "I don't know what I'm doing." It is republished right after this blog. So, easy peasy! 

Seasons of a Dog

I took our Good Boy Jacob to the vet today. He goes monthly for his Librella shot, which is used in pups with bad hips. Jake has always had bad hips, and I wish this med had been around in his younger days! Jacob was born in the spring. We brought him home mid May, which is the best time (in both our opinions) for a pup. In the springtime of his life his hips were already wonky, but never bothered him, or slowed him down at all. 

In the summer years Jacob s hips didn't visibly affect him, but we started a regimen of glucosamine, condroitin, and fish oil, to keep things limber, and they did. Jake has always been an extremely healthy boy, and we made sure to keep him a healthy weight, knowing those hips would thank us later. In his late summer years we also got him a baby brother,  Loki. Same breed, Great Pyr- German Shep mix, but good, solid hips. Solid. That's a good word to describe Loki. 106 pounds of love, and loyalty. We thought Jake was smart, Loki is smarter, and not as opinionated. Jacob has his own ideas, especially when it comes to listening to me. 

During the fall of his life, we noticed a little tenderness, but no real slow down, and the Dr. prescribed Carprofen,(kinda like ibuprofen for dogs) which he has been on since, along with supplements. Jake and Loki continued their daily play battles, and patrols of the border, and Jake helped Loki  to be a Good Boy too. In fact it wasn't until Jake was somewhere in his 10th year, the Winter of his life, where we started to see a decline. 

Jake is 12 and a half now. Fully into his winter season. I requested a "geriatric appointment" at Librella time this month, because I don't think the once a year physical is good enough when your Good Old Boy is in his final season. The librella was a wonder at first, but the last six weeks have been a backslide, and we are back to square one. We'll continue the shot, to get whatever benefit we can. His carprofin is at its max, so we will add some Gabbapentin as needed. That's about all we can do. Otherwise, he is a healthy, very happy Good Boy.

In this final season, he can get a little goofy at night, but we have a supplement that handles that. He now hates storms, which never bothered him before. His eyes and ears are not what they were, but he's maintaining weight, so that's good. He still only listens when it suits him. We are laser focused on giving him the best Winter we can,  making sure he has the best quality of life possible. When quality comes into question, I'll handle it with a heavy heart, but it's my job. A large dog like Jake usually doesn't live this long, we know how blessed we are. 

Winter, the actual season, is Jacob's very favorite thing. I was suprised that we still had him last winter. I'm just hoping he has another chance to play in the snow. ❤️ 

On Being Me

Every year on my birthday eve I post something on Facebook, and/or write a blog post that briefly encapsulates the year gone by. Since Cece died in October '22, there have been no blog posts, because how could I continue writing about my life, without speaking about this devastating loss, and the struggle to get my head up above the ocean of grief that engulfed me. I'm not sure that I will ever put more than the above into words on a page, but let's just say that it knocked me off my path and into the woods for awhile. 

In mid April of this year, as the earth was waking up from her winter slumber, so was I. It was like I had just been floating on auto pilot for a year and a half, until the day I could not physically get on the floor to play with my Great nephew, Henry.(wlWho just turned two, and now has an 8 month old sister, Ruth!) Then, I woke up. 

I took a hard look in the mirror, and thought, "Who is this fat old lady?" Sorry, but that's what I thought. Then I realized enough was enough. I'm not going to watch life on the sidelines because I have too many aches and pains to play and enjoy it. Yes, that comes with the territory of gaining years, but for the most part that isn't the case here, yet. 

My deep issue is rewarding myself with food. Maybe consoling myself with food is a better way to explain that. You had to do something you didn't like today? That's ok honey, you can have a Big Mac for dinner. So for a year and a half, while floating around in this ocean of grief, I consoled myself with every comfort food available, and as much as I wanted. 

Two pants sizes later, and I was not able get down and play play with Henry. (It's the getting up that's the problem.)I couldn't do a lot of other things either, but I didn't care. Not being able to be an active participant in the kids lives, that kicked my butt into gear. 

I have always been, and I'm sure I will continue to be, a curvy gal, and I'm cool with that. I just needed to make a giant shift, and some lifestyle changes to be a healthier gal, with curves.  

So, how am I doing? Great! Twenty five pounds are gone, and so are those two pants sizes. I can get on the floor and play with the kids, and we even went to the zoo a few weeks back, which I walked without difficulty.  How am I doing it? Counting calories on a free ap, which keeps my portion sizes where they belong, and keeps me accountable to myself. I make better choices, and still have anything i want, in moderation. I have a new scale, and I make myself get on it, because it matters. Now that I can move, I do. Formal exercise gives me gives me hives, (figuratively) so I don't see that happening any time soon. I just want to enjoy the rest of my years in a healthy way. Body and mind. 

So, as I rock in my chair, on my porch, on the last day of 54, I am very proud of myself. My mantra always has been, "Be who you are!" There will be a lot more of that around here, from now on. Inside, and out. ❤️