tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36281777677569196072024-03-05T01:33:15.326-06:00The Road to Farley is Less Traveled2021 - Isn't this year supposed to be better? CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-24311907069397422012021-07-16T18:59:00.001-05:002021-07-17T09:24:09.679-05:00When You Selfishly Think You Had a Bad DayI was feeling sorry for myself as I sat in the Admiral's Lounge, waiting for my flight home. It was a stressful week at work. I logged 76 hours in five days, and I was operating on about 2.5 hours of sleep. I was barely able to keep my eyes open while I waited. Then, something on the tarmac caught my eye. I watched and waited. <div><br></div><div>Suddenly, I felt really small and petty for thinking I had it so bad. </div><div><br></div><div>This is what I saw. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div>Quietly, and without prompting, those of us seated near the windows who saw what was happening all stood and watched in silence to show our respect for the fallen anonymous soldier. </div><div><br></div><div>It was a sweltering 95 degrees outside and probably hotter on that tarmac in the stifling humidity. The soldier's comrades never faltered and carried out their honorable task with precision, surrounded by the American Airlines ground crew. </div><div><br></div><div>My week was not hard. </div><div><br></div><div>I am sitting in an airport lounge waiting to board my flight in my first class seat. </div><div><br></div><div>This soldier lost his or her life this week. </div><div><br></div><div>Somewhere a family is grieving this unimaginable loss of their father, mother, sister, brother, son, daughter. </div><div><br></div><div>Who was this soldier?</div><div><br></div><div>Did they wake up that morning with thoughts of the future? </div><div><br></div><div>Were they scared as they gave the ultimate sacrifice for us? </div><div><br></div><div>For strangers. </div><div><br></div><div>My tears slid silently down my face and disappeared behind my mask. </div><div><br></div><div>We are selfish. </div><div>We take our freedom for granted. </div><div>We don't appreciate the simple things anymore. </div><div><br></div><div>Was this soldier a person of color, gay, or transgender, giving their life for a country that so often marginalizes them?</div><div><br></div><div>This soldier gave their life for strangers, yet we still have friends, family, neighbors, and co-workers who refuse to get a COVID vaccination. </div><div><br></div><div>The pandemic and the delta variant rage on. Yet, so many aren't willing to do what is right to protect others. </div><div><br></div><div>Like this soldier. </div><div><br></div><div>Shame on all those who claim their rights are being violated and refuse to be vaccinated. </div><div><br></div><div>Be honorable like this soldier.</div><div><br></div><div>Thank you for your service anonymous soldier. We are grateful for your patriotism and ultimate sacrifice. </div><div><br></div><div>I will never forget you. ❤🇺🇸</div>CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-42565924628752040802021-05-17T06:51:00.001-05:002021-05-17T06:51:33.857-05:00Morning Intent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div><br></div><div>I'm really busy at work right now. So I made a vow with myself to get up earlier and start work earlier to be more productive. My days are filled with meetings so I don't get actual tasks accomplished. Yet, here I am, enjoying the quiet of the morning. With this face...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div></div><div><br></div><div>Well, there's always tomorrow for an early start. <br><br></div>CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-48455580049618416272021-04-11T15:54:00.000-05:002022-07-31T23:36:53.073-05:00What I Hate About Dogs - Part 2<p>I've had a revelation in the past few months that dogs, like people, sometimes turn out not to be who you think they are or want them to be. They also have the propensity to disappoint. </p><p>We can all agree that 2020 was a pretty shit year thanks to COVID-19. It was made worse for me when I lost my dad in April and then lost my dog in July. I grieved hard when I lost Bailey2. It was the straw that pushed me over the edge, I guess. </p><p>So, of course, I began the quest for another dog. It's what we've always done...being a dog loving family. Though our last five dogs were rescues, all with some kind of quirk, getting a puppy seemed like a great idea. I had my heart set on a Rough Collie, but also a Blue Merle so she would have the same coloring as Bailey2. Enter Luna...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5vgxySUefM6vX9nDq2MoeVrgeXJYcWuwvsRAJ2UlnPox2AdfSpWpPE_igYOzBqNzyXgnnO3_sqKxszQg0-5f-YgMwuxMbrfxnjkoRgAsNQwyTwJTkFKNr-1j0PEv1kep12pZL-ClfQE/s2048/20201003_193029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1457" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5vgxySUefM6vX9nDq2MoeVrgeXJYcWuwvsRAJ2UlnPox2AdfSpWpPE_igYOzBqNzyXgnnO3_sqKxszQg0-5f-YgMwuxMbrfxnjkoRgAsNQwyTwJTkFKNr-1j0PEv1kep12pZL-ClfQE/s320/20201003_193029.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0eFloudYDiNFDGn4p7KsqzoJVdZeXDcsOh2qv82HtGgFkg0Px8CnZGJFRiZXAg0Fk33ZP8L2acm1rh6JAgDb8nibBzxb4YrvgSvznNmGDouqeU54-tykmicjyThnxaIJWzsJtFOm2RII/s2048/20201005_103223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1811" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0eFloudYDiNFDGn4p7KsqzoJVdZeXDcsOh2qv82HtGgFkg0Px8CnZGJFRiZXAg0Fk33ZP8L2acm1rh6JAgDb8nibBzxb4YrvgSvznNmGDouqeU54-tykmicjyThnxaIJWzsJtFOm2RII/s320/20201005_103223.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTdPtic6Z8cS7isklgKoY9NrFD_LxQRpjxA_KLq09tMG8PSCUbzA7m10puGkOZpO3pzGtbANpVLP5nJJK4rm0k_erTYPvnlzMGlgjNBsDlOQgidHls2iHFe6PiJmfz8H9H-oRXHZtVsGM/s2048/20201006_105502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTdPtic6Z8cS7isklgKoY9NrFD_LxQRpjxA_KLq09tMG8PSCUbzA7m10puGkOZpO3pzGtbANpVLP5nJJK4rm0k_erTYPvnlzMGlgjNBsDlOQgidHls2iHFe6PiJmfz8H9H-oRXHZtVsGM/s320/20201006_105502.jpg"></a></div><br><p>Super cute, right? It started out great. She was housebroken in less than a week. Slept through the night after the second or third night of being home. We started in puppy pre-school right away. She learned sit, down, rollover, shake, high-five really quickly. She walked well on a leash. You'd think, wow, what a great dog. But, then, this happened...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkMpWWKU2yH1Ld6E8hsG4m0C329fFU1nVOLlQ1f1jzl6L0dEE_mqM_LLsR_8Hhkc2GUzKTK-zoOybB2qXZVUcIe90f4MUidPWihauWSj6b_mBcMQA0CQAic0hLQm85ZDMECOuzs3db6K0/s2048/20201109_210851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkMpWWKU2yH1Ld6E8hsG4m0C329fFU1nVOLlQ1f1jzl6L0dEE_mqM_LLsR_8Hhkc2GUzKTK-zoOybB2qXZVUcIe90f4MUidPWihauWSj6b_mBcMQA0CQAic0hLQm85ZDMECOuzs3db6K0/s320/20201109_210851.jpg"></a></div><br><p>That was the first of many bites. That one happened when she was about 12 weeks old, and I dropped a cap to a water bottle that she promptly scooped up and started chewing. Thinking she might actually try to swallow it and could choke, I ran to retrieve it from her when she went full on attack mode on me. </p><p>Working with the trainer from puppy preschool, it was determined she has resource guarding issues, impulse control problems, and is highly prey driven. So, basically, I've bought a wolf. The trainer reminded me that domesticated dogs are just one step away from wolves and would live with and mate with them if they were together. This is all "normal" behavior. I've invested $2500 in training so far. </p><p>She bit me again today. <sigh> </p><p>My sister asked if I wanted to re-home her. I don't want to give up on her....I just want her to stop biting me. She has moments of being a fun dog. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44e_AqPyEf1Z94_N48CruZEtgj3w6qqvFxo2fMjjVH_p5VJKrjNU8KN8WNyr679vr8DjsdSrcGJsxTt-z-8rBxBBcBqwcNnpOWRFAyGnw4K99n5pVdQQ-bi5y2qC8VYs0nAyEXRh9gUE/s2048/20210411_130909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44e_AqPyEf1Z94_N48CruZEtgj3w6qqvFxo2fMjjVH_p5VJKrjNU8KN8WNyr679vr8DjsdSrcGJsxTt-z-8rBxBBcBqwcNnpOWRFAyGnw4K99n5pVdQQ-bi5y2qC8VYs0nAyEXRh9gUE/s320/20210411_130909.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIs3iLvm3VCHdzYXl_C8Iba-46-7n9_QW21LwBNf7YvzYPwbKtmbfxmXVFXqNRjk10oVqB4lEfORPB1xyE12SCQWepTT9EBMjAndhxsg4Fx4zml4au749z2sYbQpDOurr6yXcw-k8wQ4/s1280/Snapchat-2116942768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIs3iLvm3VCHdzYXl_C8Iba-46-7n9_QW21LwBNf7YvzYPwbKtmbfxmXVFXqNRjk10oVqB4lEfORPB1xyE12SCQWepTT9EBMjAndhxsg4Fx4zml4au749z2sYbQpDOurr6yXcw-k8wQ4/s320/Snapchat-2116942768.jpg"></a></div><br><p>I was talking about her to one of my good friends a few weeks ago and was lamenting that she wasn't the emotional support dog I had imagined in my head after 2020. My friend, who had gone through a lot of turmoil, counseling, violent episodes, and drama with her son, said she understood. You pour your heart and everything you have into this living being that you love and get heartache in return. She looked at me and said, "Luna is your Liam.*" I immediately knew what she meant. </p><p>As the human in this relationship, I need to reset my expectations. I need to learn that Luna: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Is not a "huggy cuddly" dog. I have to rely on Cocoa or Buddy for my doggie snuggles. </li><li>Gets real snappy when she's tired. She needs her naps. My dad once asked my friend Katie if she got snappy. Luna takes snappy to Level 10. </li><li>Will resource guard the fuck out of anything she deems valuable, particularly food. Learning the hard way, after more bites than I want to count, I need to help her be successful by controlling the situation and keeping her separated where food is involved. I mean, I might mess someone up if they took my Ben & Jerry's. </li><li>Cannot be trusted around little kids who might stand around with cookies or ice cream, stuffed toys, or other items that Luna might covet. Neither parties in this scenario can be trusted to "do the right thing." </li><li>Needs consistency. When I think that she's overcome something, I let my guard down, and that's when shit happens. The trainer cautioned me last week that Luna was entering her adolescence and may regress or be more challenging. <oh boy...></li></ul><p></p><p>I hate that there are days I look at Luna and despise her. I guess it's not her fault. She is who she is. I put too many of my expectations on her that she doesn't comprehend. Just because the other 10+ Collies we've had were super mellow and loving and calm, nothing guaranteed that Luna would be a carbon copy of them. Even our dog trainer said, "Luna is just the dog you ended up with, her behavior is not unusual for a dog. It's unusual for you."</p><p>The moral of the story, dogs--like people--can be jerks and sometimes break your heart. But you still love them. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfWP7VFiCiHqYRMXlNWdNHZzRq2OA_imR3ZxbKDWEu0u_vE-sUckxMwPVNUtaEHxKsSEFIinvZ8U-3-uFzA2U7HLLo2ZP7sqMw4v1obGbIua_FgmZAzu8ru_-wPwLM1Y85HMDmX06QQw/s2048/20210403_214126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1335" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfWP7VFiCiHqYRMXlNWdNHZzRq2OA_imR3ZxbKDWEu0u_vE-sUckxMwPVNUtaEHxKsSEFIinvZ8U-3-uFzA2U7HLLo2ZP7sqMw4v1obGbIua_FgmZAzu8ru_-wPwLM1Y85HMDmX06QQw/s320/20210403_214126.jpg" width="320"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNU1AUtzizyKiyoVakOFKziz2e_6jzDO7LZkZF4kZAYHNF59Fgq2WPx3c4PybTy4uOBdHQF1SM9XYNjjZZ195AYwM5BGycJpmE-IYCxY0lLCOJeTL-94vHNnCYFzvrXt_4giTd5uoYQzo/s2048/20210406_203951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNU1AUtzizyKiyoVakOFKziz2e_6jzDO7LZkZF4kZAYHNF59Fgq2WPx3c4PybTy4uOBdHQF1SM9XYNjjZZ195AYwM5BGycJpmE-IYCxY0lLCOJeTL-94vHNnCYFzvrXt_4giTd5uoYQzo/s320/20210406_203951.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MrxF-oQQ4d-TMH82G-aQp2nePKejfhVFLBHk3x4jpVygBtrPvVxsTFa4_XpNGENDOOSxjKYSPwohRUVji_sV6HrQPWqVMS2dM1IpxQuzSsFa6WJAEdOB1DKZuSV47YsH78YpqAPwj9M/s2048/20210407_191131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MrxF-oQQ4d-TMH82G-aQp2nePKejfhVFLBHk3x4jpVygBtrPvVxsTFa4_XpNGENDOOSxjKYSPwohRUVji_sV6HrQPWqVMS2dM1IpxQuzSsFa6WJAEdOB1DKZuSV47YsH78YpqAPwj9M/s320/20210407_191131.jpg"></a></div><br><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><i>*Name changed for privacy. </i></p>CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-2540686829239893192021-03-21T09:22:00.001-05:002021-03-21T09:22:05.906-05:00Love & Hate<div>I've been thinking a lot lately about the past year and all the losses, heartbreak, challenges, hate, and vitriol suffered by so many people all over the world. It is hard for me to understand what leads a person to such hate of someone different than yourself. I kept thinking about this clip from "Trainwreck." If you look at the pictures on your phone or social media, or look at your friends or followers on social media and do not see people who look different than you...people of color, different ethnicities and cultures, straight, LGBQT, left, right, rich, poor, smart, average, differently abled...you may be part of the problem and are really missing out on the beauty and diversity of our world. Everyone has a story, be open to listening to it. That is all...happy Sunday, happy spring. </div><div><br></div><div>Watch "Trainwreck Funny scene first meet Amy & dr.Conners" on YouTube</div><div><br></div><div><a href="https://youtu.be/lzsO13c7Jic">https://youtu.be/lzsO13c7Jic</a> <br></div><div><br></div>CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-74831596422661445982020-08-10T10:33:00.001-05:002021-04-11T15:58:29.062-05:00In An Instant <p>On my way to O'Hare Airport this morning, traffic was backed up in the westbound lanes of 80/94 for a "gapers' block." I'd heard this on the traffic alert, but decided to go this way as my alternate route would be to go through downtown Chicago, which had its' own traffic issues because of the looting and rioting that took place overnight. But, that is another story. </p><p>So, back to 80/94. Sure enough, the slowdown occurred right at Kennedy like they said. It was clear the eastbound lanes were shut down because there was no traffic. As I approached Torrance Avenue, I could see the accident scene. It was horrific. It's not clear exactly what happened, but a semi tractor was involved and the driver side was smashed in and the windshield shattered. There was a large pickup off on the shoulder with pretty bad front end damage as well. Then, there were two cars in the middle of the four lanes completely destroyed. There was debris across all four lanes for at least 100 yards. And, then, I noticed in the middle of the wreckage, a body covered up lying on the roadway. The news had reported it was a double fatality. </p><p>Even just driving by that scene for a minute....two minutes...I was shook to the core, imagining the noise, force, destruction that may have taken only 5 or 10 seconds....and then, eerie silence. I tried to imagine what could have taken place in the seconds leading up to the crash. Was someone texting, driving recklessly, having a medical issue, wanting to die that day? A split second decision may have changed the outcome...or not. Whatever happened, two people left home this morning and are not coming back. My heart grieved for the unknown family members getting that unwelcome call or knock on the door. </p><p>Life can change in an instant and so unexpectedly. Be present in your life, pay attention, and love your family and friends like there is no tomorrow. </p><p>As I drove on, I totally had the Boss in my head...</p><p>Wreck on the Highway </p><p><a href="https://g.co/kgs/7N39Co">https://g.co/kgs/7N39Co</a> </p><p><br /></p>CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-88789710075774574602020-08-07T11:59:00.000-05:002020-08-07T11:59:25.724-05:00Hypocrisy<p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We can all agree that 2020 has really been one for the record books. Now, more than ever, the level of hypocrisy coming from our elected leaders to our neighbors across the street has been on prime display. </span></p><div class="WI9k4c" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; display: table; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; word-break: break-word;"><div class="GgmXif jY7QFf" style="font-size: 28px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; min-height: 36px;"><div class="DgZBFd XcVN5d" style="line-height: 36px; vertical-align: top;"><span data-dobid="hdw">hy·poc·ri·sy</span></div></div><div class="S23sjd" style="color: #70757a; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><span class="XpoqFe">/həˈpäkrəsē/</span></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="K6GhFd" data-is-bilingual="false" jsaction="BtuVOb:V46pce" jscontroller="AImii" style="max-height: 0px; opacity: 0; pointer-events: none; transition: max-height 0.3s ease 0s, opacity 0.3s ease 0s;"><div class="b8aKlc" style="padding: 8px 0px 6px;"><a href="https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS897US897&sxsrf=ALeKk013zpdZ8VnOO42qIzXcp-FIhT8xwA:1596818570356&q=how+to+pronounce+hypocrisy&stick=H4sIAAAAAAAAAOMIfcRozS3w8sc9YSmjSWtOXmPU4eINKMrPK81LzkwsyczPExLlYglJLcoV4pXi5uLMqCzITy7KLK60YlFiSs3jWcQqlZFfrlCSr1AA1JQP1JWqAFcDABgmssFdAAAA&pron_lang=en&pron_country=us&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiRh6DdxInrAhVHAp0JHZfECOoQ3eEDMAB6BAgCEAg" style="color: #660099; cursor: pointer; text-decoration-line: none;" tabindex="-1"><div class="S5TwIf" style="border-radius: 6px; box-shadow: rgb(218, 220, 224) 0px 0px 0px 1px inset; display: inline-block; overflow: hidden; padding-right: 12px; vertical-align: top;"><g-img class="FamOtd" style="display: inline-block; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="rISBZc M4dUYb" data-atf="1" height="32" id="dimg_6" src="data:image/svg+xml;base64,PHN2ZyB4bWxucz0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMjAwMC9zdmciIHhtbG5zOnhsaW5rPSJodHRwOi8vd3d3LnczLm9yZy8xOTk5L3hsaW5rIiB3aWR0aD0iMzIiIGhlaWdodD0iMzIiIHZpZXdCb3g9IjAgMCAzMiAzMiI+CiAgPGRlZnM+CiAgICA8cG9seWdvbiBpZD0ic21hbGwtdmlzZW1lLXYzLWEiIHBvaW50cz0iMCAwIDMyIDAgMzIgMzIgMCAzMiIvPgogIDwvZGVmcz4KICA8ZyBmaWxsPSJub25lIiBmaWxsLXJ1bGU9ImV2ZW5vZGQiPgogICAgPG1hc2sgaWQ9InNtYWxsLXZpc2VtZS12My1iIiBmaWxsPSIjZmZmIj4KICAgICAgPHVzZSB4bGluazpocmVmPSIjc21hbGwtdmlzZW1lLXYzLWEiLz4KICAgIDwvbWFzaz4KICAgIDx1c2UgZmlsbD0iIzQyODVGNCIgeGxpbms6aHJlZj0iI3NtYWxsLXZpc2VtZS12My1hIi8+CiAgICA8cGF0aCBmaWxsPSIjRDJFM0ZDIiBkPSJNMCwxNS4yMzk3OTYzIEMyLjU0Mzg1NzE0LDE4Ljg3MDUyMDMgNS42NTIsMjIuMDgyMTk0NiA5LjIwMjI4NTcxLDI0Ljc0NDg3NjkgQzEzLjIxMTU3MTQsMjcuNzUxNzA3NyAxOC43ODg0Mjg2LDI3Ljc1MTcwNzcgMjIuNzk3NzE0MywyNC43NDQ4NzY5IEMyNi4zNDgsMjIuMDgyMTk0NiAyOS40NTYxNDI5LDE4Ljg3MDUyMDMgMzIsMTUuMjM5Nzk2MyBMMzIsLTcgTDAsLTcgTDAsMTUuMjM5Nzk2MyBaIiBtYXNrPSJ1cmwoI3NtYWxsLXZpc2VtZS12My1iKSIvPgogICAgPHBhdGggZmlsbD0iIzQyODVGNCIgZmlsbC1vcGFjaXR5PSIuNiIgZD0iTTE2LDIxLjIzMDY0OTIgQzE2LjkyNjA5OTEsMjEuMjMwNjQ5MiAxNy43OTEyNDY3LDIxLjQ5NDMxNTcgMTguNTI3MjEzNSwyMS45NTE1MDE5IEMxOC44MTA0NDEsMjIuMTI3MzMwOSAxOS4xMzYyNzM4LDIxLjc4ODc0ODUgMTguOTQwMzc5OSwyMS41MTY0Njc0IEMxOC4yNzg1NTU2LDIwLjU5NzMyNjMgMTcuMjA4MTEzNiwyMCAxNiwyMCBDMTQuNzkxODg2NCwyMCAxMy43MjE0NDQ0LDIwLjU5NzMyNjMgMTMuMDU5NjIwMSwyMS41MTY0Njc0IEMxMi44NjM3MjYyLDIxLjc4ODc0ODUgMTMuMTg5NTU5LDIyLjEyNzMzMDkgMTMuNDcyNzg2NSwyMS45NTE1MDE5IEMxNC4yMDg3NTMzLDIxLjQ5NDMxNTcgMTUuMDczOTAwOSwyMS4yMzA2NDkyIDE2LDIxLjIzMDY0OTIiIG1hc2s9InVybCgjc21hbGwtdmlzZW1lLXYzLWIpIi8+CiAgICA8cGF0aCBzdHJva2U9IiM0Mjg1RjQiIHN0cm9rZS1saW5lY2FwPSJzcXVhcmUiIGQ9Ik0yNSwxMyBDMjMsMTUuMzMzMzMzMyAyMCwxNi41IDE2LDE2LjUgQzEyLDE2LjUgOSwxNS4zMzMzMzMzIDcsMTMgTDEzLDEwLjUgTDE5LDEwLjUgTDI1LDEzIFoiIG1hc2s9InVybCgjc21hbGwtdmlzZW1lLXYzLWIpIi8+CiAgICA8cG9seWdvbiBmaWxsPSIjNDI4NUY0IiBmaWxsLXJ1bGU9Im5vbnplcm8iIHBvaW50cz0iOCAxNCA3IDEzIDI1IDEzIDI0IDE0IiBtYXNrPSJ1cmwoI3NtYWxsLXZpc2VtZS12My1iKSIvPgogICAgPHBhdGggc3Ryb2tlPSIjNDI4NUY0IiBzdHJva2UtbGluZWNhcD0icm91bmQiIGQ9Ik0yMCwzIEwxNy43Njc4NzUsNS4yNTg5MjYyMiBDMTYuNzkxNSw2LjI0NzAyNDU5IDE1LjIwODUsNi4yNDcwMjQ1OSAxNC4yMzIxMjUsNS4yNTg5MjYyMiBMMTIsMyIgbWFzaz0idXJsKCNzbWFsbC12aXNlbWUtdjMtYikiLz4KICA8L2c+Cjwvc3ZnPgo=" style="border: 0px; display: block; position: relative;" width="32" /></g-img><span class="fe69if" style="color: #3c4043; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0px; margin-left: 10px; vertical-align: middle;">Learn to pronounce</span></div></a></div></div></div><div class="ABgcGb vmod" jsname="p0q1Sd" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></div><p><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">noun</i></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">the practice of claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one's own behavior does not conform; pretense.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Quite frankly, I'm sick of it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If "All Lives Matter," where is your outrage when: </span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Migrants are kept in cages at the border</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Innocent people are put to death in our prison system</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A court denies an appeal to end the life sentence of a man (who has already served 20 years) accused of stealing hedge trimmers</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Peaceful protesters are brutally attacked by covert federal agents</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Thousands of individuals are dying daily due to COVID-19 but people refuse to wear a mask</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">People are insistent that children go back to school en masse this fall</span></li></ul><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If your constitutional or civil rights are being thwarted because your local or state government issues a mask mandate, then</span></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You must agree that the government has no business deciding a woman's right to choose</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That the peaceful protesters in the streets defending Black lives should be afforded the same rights as the gun-toting protesters who storm a state capital demanding that bars and nail salons be reopened</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You must think driving laws (speed limits, seat belt laws, drinking and driving laws) are a violation too</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You must fully support LGBTQ rights for equality and marriage</span></li></ul><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><sigh> </span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I don't know the answers, but people just need to calm the fuck down, respect one another, and do what is right for the common good. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And for the love of God, vote this November. </span></div><p></p>CAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191846143099582334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-85288747361994795552020-07-05T22:11:00.002-05:002020-07-06T19:41:24.477-05:00What I Hate About DogsThere is one thing I just really hate about dogs. I mean *really* hate. They never live as long as you do. And, losing your dog just sucks.<br />
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I'm losing my Bailey girl. You know it is going to happen, but you just can't prepare for it. She is almost 13, and she has a heart murmur. For the past six months, she's been losing weight, but she was still the girl who begged for treats and barked like an attack dog at the UPS driver. </div>
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This week, I took her for her routine vaccinations, and I think it was just too much of a stress on her system. Within hours she was throwing up and extremely lethargic, by the next day, she was back at the vet on IV fluids. Her kidneys are failing. She doesn't want to eat. </div>
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The really crazy thing is I'm crying more for Bailey than I did when I lost my dad in April. Like, I can't stop crying, and she hasn't even died yet. Honestly, a therapist would probably have a field day trying to crack my fuckedupedness. </div>
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Check out one of my <a href="http://cas-randomramblings.blogspot.com/2011/01/dogs-dogs-dogs.html" target="_blank">previous blogs</a> about all the dogs I've loved before. </div>
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Thanks 2020...You bitch.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-36140224406053778842020-04-20T19:51:00.001-05:002020-04-20T19:51:48.317-05:00Gone Without Saying Good-bye <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div><br></div><div>It's been one week since we laid my dad to rest. Dementia finally claimed his worn mind and body. We wrote in his obituary that he died from dementia<b> </b>because so many people assumed he died of COVID-19. But, as I have been reflecting in the past week on his passing, I do consider him a victim of the virus not because he was afflicted with it, but because we were forced to be separated from him for the past month. </div><div><br></div><div>I think he just gave up, thinking we had just abandoned him. When my sister called the nursing home to check on him on April 2nd, they said they were getting ready to call us. They said he had been asking when people were coming to visit, but his brain could no longer comprehend or remember the details of the pandemic. They said after two weeks he stopped asking, and stopped eating, and slept all the time. He lost more than 20 pounds during that time. By April 6th, they had advised calling hospice. He died on the morning of April 9th. We are comforted that one of my brothers was able to be with him when he took his last breath. </div><div><br></div><div>With dementia, you mourn a hundred losses over the course of the disease. You cry when you realize your dad can no longer drive, or be home alone, or turn on the television, or walk unassisted, or take care of personal hygiene, or remember his grandchildren. You are gutted the day he no longer remembers your name and asks if he's known you a long time. You cry alone in the car each time you leave the nursing home because it is so heartbreaking to see a piece of him slip away with each visit. You cry when you learn he has finally slipped away knowing it is forever, and cry for the guilt you feel at the sense of relief. You cry when you see him laid out in the casket, almost unrecognizable because he seems so small and frail than the father/protector you want to remember. You cry watching your mom say goodbye to her husband of 65 years, and you cry because this great man was only allowed to have eight people at his funeral.</div><div><br></div><div>Dementia stole my father years ago and COVID-19 robbed me of the last month of his life. We were lucky to have him 89 years, and he will always be the most important man in my life.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-77886655517272426882019-12-12T19:39:00.001-06:002019-12-12T19:39:25.648-06:00The Loneliest Time of YearI spotted him from the window as I was getting out of my car, the gray-haired man sitting alone at the dining table. I approached him as I entered the dining room, he greeted me with a smile and said to have a seat. I asked him how his day was, and he said it had been busy because of the weather. The roads were snowy, cars were in ditches, and people were complaining. He asked if I had a busy day at work and if I had taken many calls because of the weather. We talked about my recent vacation to Mexico and the upcoming Christmas holiday. He mentioned that he remembered my dad and always liked him. We talked a while longer and when it was time to go, he offered to pay for my meal. I reminded him that I hadn't eaten. "Next time," he said. <div><br></div><div>As I was putting on my hat and gloves to make the cold walk to the car, he said he hoped we'd see each other again. I said we would, maybe tomorrow. As I shook his hand and turned to leave, I whispered, "Good-bye Dad."</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-42481380005284682462018-04-18T00:01:00.001-05:002018-04-18T00:01:58.354-05:00What Goes Around Comes AroundWell, I figured now is a good time to dust off this blog since my life is in a total upheaval. In three more days I am moving back to Farley ... with my sister and the parents. I am going through a whole range of emotions, not the least of which is anxiety due to all the clutter.<br />
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More to come. The first hurdle was just remembering my credentials to get logged in.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-37268133547822698532016-07-08T07:20:00.000-05:002016-07-08T07:20:42.074-05:00Sadness in Our World<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Listening to the news this morning, it is extremely hard to feel joy on this beautiful summer sunny morning. Two black men killed at the hands of police this week, and last night, five Dallas police officers gunned down at a peaceful Black Lives Matter protest. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>What are we becoming? </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel such sadness because I have such conflict on this topic. On the one hand, I have been in a 25-year relationship with a black man. On the other hand, I have a nephew and several cousins who are police officers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Institutional, overt, and silent racism continues to exist in this country. While with my significant other, or members of his family, I have seen the different ways I am treated versus the way they are treated. My significant other is the last person who would "play the race card." He honestly looks at all people as people -- smart, funny, loving, hateful, ignorant, jerk, or outright asshole. He doesn't make a judgment based on what they look like. I get more infuriated at the subtle racism he experiences almost daily than he does. He is a better person than me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love my nephew too. He is one of those rare people who proclaimed when he was about 4 or 5 years old that he wanted to be a cop, and he was never deterred. He worked with the police while he was in high school, he majored in criminal justice while in college, he volunteers as an EMT in his community, he worked as a park ranger and a bicycle cop while in college. He loves his wife, his baby daughter, dogs, and his boat. He loves my significant other. They have been buddies since he attended my significant other's basketball camp when my nephew was 9 or 10 years old. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I worry about my nephew all the time when I hear of people retaliating against police officers. I worry that one day my nephew might be involved in a crazy altercation and in the heat of the moment, something happens, a shot is fired, and someone who might not have needed to die, does. Since becoming a police officer, my nephew has been hit, scratched, spit on, kicked on numerous occasions. I am constantly amazed of his stories. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the same token, I am constantly amazed that black men are killed by police under strange circumstances. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't have the answers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, I am sad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am scared for our country. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are not progressing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We seem to be regressing. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-81550669146777682292015-05-13T06:44:00.001-05:002015-09-23T23:17:22.905-05:00Moving by Garbage Bags<p dir="ltr">I moved last week. The townhouse that I was renting for the past 5 years is being sold. I was ready for something new. I actually like my new place much better. I purposefully chose to pay rent for May in both the old and new places so I could move on an orderly and relaxing fashion. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Sometime after the fifth day and twenty-second trip back and forth I said eff it! When the movers arrived on Friday,  I found myself maniacally throwing everything that didn't require two people to lift it into a garbage bag. I suddenly looked like I lived in a landfill. But, everything got moved and it is much easier to smash one more bag into the car than it is a box.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-35127481703659067382014-05-27T21:27:00.002-05:002014-05-27T21:27:33.063-05:00142 Day Fitness Challenge - Day 99I bet you thought I forgot about my personal challenge. Ha! Fooled you. Though my life continues to get in the way of of work outs, eating right all the time, and blogging, I haven't forgotten my ultimate goal. My much...MUCH...<b>MUCH</b> anticipated vacation is now just 42 days away.<br />
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Even though I have been radio silent for the past 84 days, I've made some progress, though slow. I am down 12.5 pounds. All in all, I guess that's not too terrible.<br />
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I saw an article online tonight that said people who drink diet soda lose more weight than people who drink water. This further solidifies that all this diet crap that permeates the TV, magazines, weight loss programs, and grocery stores is just that...a bunch of crap. I'm so over it. All I am trying to do now is eat normal food...nothing packaged or frozen (well, except frozen broccoli florets - I do eat a lot of those). And ice cream. That is one of my indulgences.<br />
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You seriously can go crazy making your way through the maze of Paleo, gluten free, no carb, low carb, Atkins, South Beach, Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, juice, cleanset, vegan, or vegetarian diets....ugh!<br />
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How about just eating less and eating good food.<br />
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Oh...here's a breakthrough for me over the past few months. Spaghetti has long been my favorite food, and I still enjoy a nice hot plate of it every now and then. But, I used to have pasta with my meals almost every day. Now that I have been incorporating more fruits and vegetables into my eating, I realize how bland pasta really is, and I would just as soon skip it than eat something that adds no flavor or no nutritional value.<br />
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Progress!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-71415793596029589152014-03-04T20:12:00.000-06:002014-03-04T20:12:17.818-06:00Fitness Challenge Day 15 and Fat Tuesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mardi Gras! Fat Tuesday! Ummmm, yeah, nothing screams FAT like this photo of me. Oy vey. This pic was taken about 11-12 years ago at a company golf outing. I remember that it was ungodly hot that day, something like 105 and humid. (Hot...remember what that feels like? I've kind of forgotten this winter...but, I digress). <div>
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I am pretty sure when this photo was taken I was at my fattest ever. I hate to admit that at the beginning of this year, I was actually close to that weight. I look awful, right? I am happy to report that since the first of the year (not just my "fitness challenge"), I have dropped 11.5 pounds. It's only scratching the surface, but keeping this picture posted on my mirror inspires me. </div>
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I'm continuing my run/walk 5Ks and can report that this morning I completed the 5K in under 50 minutes. That's even 3+ minutes faster than I did in the real 5K I claimed to train for back in 2011. That was the last time I seriously tried to be a "runner." It's kind of weird, but I almost ... sort of ... have started looking forward to those morning 5Ks. I've temporarily abandoned the boot camp classes I was attending. I don't know if it's general old age or lack of physical shape, but my shoulders have been acting up lately, so I decided I needed to give them a respite from the boot camp classes. The way they have been feeling, I am worried that my water skiing career might also come to a premature end. </div>
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Body - don't fail me now.<br /><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-75484797002168588722014-02-24T20:29:00.002-06:002014-02-24T20:29:18.842-06:00Day 7Today I ran for 5 minutes. Seriously. That was an accomplishment for me. A couple of years ago, when I sort of trained for that 5K, was the last time I did any significant running. So, the 5 minutes today interspersed with my usual 5K walk on the treadmill felt good and exhausting at the same time.<br />
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It's only been a week, but with a few more yoga workouts than normal and some targeted stretching and resistance training. I feel better already. Now that I think about it, maybe I feel better thanks to that root canal last Thursday! You get so used to a dull pain that your forget what it's like not to have it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-40658355039414087432014-02-18T21:20:00.001-06:002014-02-18T21:24:11.156-06:00142 Day Fitness Challenge - Day 1<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, let me tell you, for Day 1 of my 142 Day Fitness Challenge, I am feeling pretty damn inspired. Here is the rundown of my day: </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Up at 5 am for a quick walk with the dogs. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Off to the gym for a brisk 3.5 mile walk on the treadmill, while rocking out to John Mellencamp and reading "The Husband's Secret." (A nice little chick-lit set in Australia...so it reminds me of the buckaroos.) </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Intake of food for the day -- decent. Breakfast: coffee with fat free creamer, Greek yogurt, and a string cheese. Lunch: Glass of dark chocolate almond milk and an apple with peanut butter. Dinner a big "clean out the refrigerator" salad plus 2 small squares of dark chocolate with sea salt. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Brisk 1.5 mile walk with the dogs after work to enjoy the 50+ degree temps and sunshine. (Downside: Their paws and bellies were very sloppy by the time we got home.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">De-stressed with 40 minutes of yoga. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Got inspired by Sharon Stone. Yes -- that Sharon Stone. I saw an interview with her on Entertainment Tonight (whilst eating my big salad), and she is on the cover of the March issue of Shape magazine. Check it out. She is 55 and looks amazing. <a href="http://www.shape.com/blogs/fit-famous/sharon-stone-proves-50s-are-fabulous-march-cover-shape" target="_blank">50s_are_fabulous</a>.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Got inspired again watching Snowboard Cross on the Olympics. Man that looks like fun. I have no intentions of learning snowboarding, but at least I want to continuing skiing into my dotage. </span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As promised yesterday, I'm posting a couple of "before" photos. At first I was going to take pics in something more form-fitting. But, my end goal isn't to be totally ripped. I want to look good in my clothes and feel good. So, I opted for a summer outfit that I would likely wear while on vacation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Disregard the messy hair. I am in need of a haircut, and this was shortly after finishing yoga. Oof..that side view gets me every time. The camera doesn't lie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's a photo of my big salad, which was a conglomeration of lettuce, cooked carrots, cooked Yukon Gold potatoes, grape tomatoes, zucchini, jalapenos, avocado, roast beef, and blue cheese dressing. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1w-t6t9bDxrtqizpW0cjigLL4E9P_E2SufEP8Z75YjTJXayBmyQxQwx8hyphenhyphenj5vooIfdTiV3HSdEcluJexE0Yg1q1wqryqFFbIads5h83sals9v_71dd5nNeCV4yKKnmmU8eHZHyz_pWc/s1600/DSCN3486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1w-t6t9bDxrtqizpW0cjigLL4E9P_E2SufEP8Z75YjTJXayBmyQxQwx8hyphenhyphenj5vooIfdTiV3HSdEcluJexE0Yg1q1wqryqFFbIads5h83sals9v_71dd5nNeCV4yKKnmmU8eHZHyz_pWc/s1600/DSCN3486.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-83402137119076468162014-02-17T23:02:00.001-06:002014-02-17T23:03:12.539-06:00My 142 Day Fitness Challenge - Day 0<p dir="ltr">I am throwing down the gauntlet to myself, along with some potential public shaming. I realized today that my summer vacation and the first of three nephew weddings occur in 142 days and counting.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The thought of being the fat American at the British Open or the fat aunt at the destination wedding in Colorado is not appealing. </p>
<p dir="ltr">That gives me about 20 weeks to lose about 100 pounds and get fit enough to run a 5K. Ok, I am not aiming quite that high, but you get the point. 2013 was not kind to my body for a whole lot of reasons. This dreadful winter is not helping, either.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I will report progress regularly. Wish me luck people. At the very least, I need to fit in my summer clothes!</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-46396143751877927392014-02-10T22:35:00.001-06:002014-02-10T22:36:05.860-06:00I Woke Up Old One Day<p dir="ltr">I am not really sure when it happened, but I think sometime in the last 12-14 months. Don't get me wrong, I like to think I still got it going on like I did in my late 20s or early 30s. It ain't happening. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I find myself reaching for the Aleve on a regular basis to dull all these aches that weren't there last year (shoulders, hip, feet, elbows, neck). Sympathy cards seem to be the ones I send most frequently these days. I feel sluggish the morning after drinking just two beers. I can barely stay awake after 8 pm, yet I have no problem waking up at 5 am. The cold and snow...I used to wish for more of it when I was 17. I just want it to go away now. My fat is now firmly entrenched in my gut. I can't read small print even with my progressive lenses. I used to love going shoe shopping, but who can get excited about sensible shoes? I have bad feet, people!</p>
<p dir="ltr">I love the wisdom, independence, and the "I don't give a crap what you think" confidence I gain as each year passes. Now, if only my body would keep up.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-16615094558102692842014-01-12T12:02:00.001-06:002014-01-13T21:30:32.868-06:00Dog Park<div dir="ltr">
Besides my Bailey's and coffee, one of my other favorite Sunday morning rituals is a trip to the dog park. After the polar express or vortex or whatever it was we had earlier this week, it was good to get out for a little fresh air.<br />
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The only thing I dislike about the dog park is the humans. I have certain "pet" peeves every time I go.</div>
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1. The crappers - the uncool people who don't pick up their dog's poop.<br />
2. The talkers - the people who want to become your best friend because your dog is sniffing their dog.<br />
3. The stalkers - those people who constantly are 2 steps behind you on the trail. My dogs are herders, people, they get anxious when anyone or anything walks behind them. Go around!<br />
4. The loiterers - the people who mill around the entrance/exit gates for no apparent reason. Get the eff out of the way.<br />
5. The jackholes - I classify anyone who brings an aggressive dog into the park in this category, particularly if they don't monitor their dog. I have seen some nasty dog fights.</div>
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You might wonder why I even go. As noted, mostly for the fresh air. Secondly, to help B2 and Cocoa be less skittish in public and around other people and dogs. B1 revolted the one time I took her to the dog park. She laid in the shade under a bench and looked at me as if to say, "You can walk around if you want. I will be here when you come back." B2 and Cocoa pretend to enjoy the opportunity to walk off leash, though they are always at my <u>side</u>. Lastly, I can be assured they will both crash for long naps when we get home.</div>
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You see, despite my annoyances, we get something out of it.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-39622354882801473742014-01-11T15:05:00.001-06:002014-01-13T21:30:52.897-06:00Fresh<div dir="ltr">
There is nothing better than a fresh haircut to boost your self esteem. I used to be one of those people who got my hair cut every four weeks...like clock work. I can't even remember when life started getting in the way, and I was canceling more appointments than I was keeping. Today, for example, was my first haircut since September...when I got my hair cut and colored in Hattiesburg, MS of all places. In keeping with my theme of making 2014 the year of taking my life back, I am not going to go more than six weeks between cuts. <br />
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Next up - a refresh on that color!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-67066243349063215082014-01-01T19:09:00.001-06:002014-01-01T19:09:06.267-06:00Hello 2014<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2013 was kind of a blur to me thanks to an extremely hectic year at work. I logged over 43,000 travel miles in a little over six months, I worked the equivalent of 17 months, and spent the equivalent of 3 full months away from home. What's that quote? They were the best of times, they were the worst of times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needless to say, I'm glad the year is over. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I plan to get my "normal" life back in 2014. I'm lying on the couch with my girls as I type this. Truthfully, I hope to spend many more nights like this in 2014. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As noted at the top of my blog page, I have many things to look forward to in 2014. Some of it, though, is bittersweet. My "breakfast crew" is locationally breaking up. Katie moved to Missouri in July 2013 and Liz is off to Northern Virginia in a week. Our regular Saturday/Sunday morning breakfasts at Perkins will take a little bit more coordination going forward. I'm happy for both of them as they've landed great positions with new organizations. I am selfishly missing my ability to call them at 2 pm after a shit day and say "let's go to Joseph's for half price martinis." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy New Year everyone. I hope to see you all here more often. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was what I awoke to on this new day in the new year -- snow!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-81570734565294422692013-02-24T11:26:00.001-06:002013-02-24T11:26:25.465-06:00He Did It Again<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not a regular blogger for two primary reasons. One, I never seem to have the time. Life just gets in the way, and this is way down on the priority list. Two, I usually have nothing interesting to write about. I have no inspiration...no muse. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am learning that I can count on one of my Facebook friends to get me riled up. You know, the one who set me off after the election with his rant about food stamps? This week's subject -- gun control. Of course, gun control. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here is a snippet of his original post: </span><br />
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<span class="userContent"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK...at this point I'm seriously considering buying an assault rifle. ...I'm absolutely sick of this administration using the Constitution as toilet paper. It is for this very reason that the 2nd amendment was enacted...to prevent a tyrannical government from usurping the rights of the people. So... should I decide to pursue my right to bear arms...and our beloved President decide to visit my home to try to confiscate said weapon... the phrase "cold dead hands" comes to mind. What will have to be determined is whose hands are cold and dead. </span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, it gets better. Before I proceed, I will provide my personal opinion on the issues of gun control currently being debated. </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Clearly, this becomes a much more passionate issue when the events that we have seen in the past year occur. Making key decisions at a time when you are shocked, grieving, angered, and looking for justice is not the opportune time for a thoughtful discussion where long-term ramifications are considered. Frequently, wrong decisions are made because "we need to do something." </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I personally am not passionate about guns, but I have several responsible gun owners in my extended family. All legally owned and licensed. I have no problem with this, and I do believe that our right to bear arms should be preserved. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't believe that enacting stiffer gun control laws is going to magically fix this issue. If that were the case, this country would have no drug problems, right? Drugs are illegal so how do people get them? Oh....people are willing to break the law to sell them because people are willing to spend whatever to get them. You see where I'm going with this. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The tragic events in the past several years have one common theme beyond the use of high-powered assault rifles -- mental illness. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, back to those high-powered assault rifles. As a complete novice on this topic, it seems to me that these military rifles were manufactured with the sole purpose of killing or maiming a lot of people as fast as possible. I'm sorry, but I just don't see this as something normal Justin Citizen needs. (Inside family joke referenced there.) These are not used for hunting squirrel or deer. And, if you are just using them for target practice at the range...I don't get it. </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There, so you see where I stand. But, back to my friend's post. Another friend of his countered that, while he himself was a gun owner, he did not think military-style assault weapons should be used anywhere than in the military. My friend responded back: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The point is we can't give up freedom in the name of security irrespective of the rhetoric. The Government is not in a position to dictate what any of us can and can't do when it is Constitutionally protected. An unarmed citizenry is exactly what the Founding Fathers were protecting against. The Constitution is an amazing document and the authors had unbelievable foresight. Had they wanted to stipulate the type of weapon the People could bear they would have. Instead they saw fit to assure that the People would never find themselves in a position where they can't defend themselves.</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, hold up....I'm not a history buff, but wasn't the second amendment written in the 1790s? People were toting around muskets, bayonets, and cannons. How could they have envisioned high-caliber assault rifles capable of taking out hundreds of people in a matter of minutes? That's just a stupid argument. We've evolved. Let's move on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I couldn't help myself, so I had to reply. I suggested that I would like to bear some arms myself for protection. I'd like some nuclear arms, please. Given how scared we all are that North Korea and Iran are stockpiling nuclear weapons, nobody wants that to happen. Here was his response, in part, to my albeit sarcastic comment: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The point of the Constitution and the Amendments it contains is to assure the rights of the People take precedent over any governing body. In 2010 twice as many people were killed by hands, fists, and feet than by any type of rifle. Why aren't they banning hands?</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are you kidding me? First of all, where does he get these statistics? Second, it's not even the same comparison. The discussion is about restricting access to a manufactured piece of equipment that was designed for military use to kill people? I contend it was never anticipated to be widely available to the public. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The funny thing is, if--God forbid--someone in his family was killed at the hand of violence, this guy would be the first one standing outside the courthouse with a placard in his hand demanding justice. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the end of the day, I also think our government is pretty hypocritical. The U.S. is the top exporter of firearms in the world. We want to limit every other country's development of nuclear arms. Yet, we think we can do whatever. It's easy to see why some other countries do not like America. </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-67679627747263334472013-02-01T23:08:00.000-06:002013-02-01T23:08:46.285-06:00Comings and Goings<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't believe it is already February. January was here and gone before I knew it. Actually, that's not exactly true. I knew that January was here every step of the way. 2013 has come in like a lion for me, and I thought that was not supposed to happen until March. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The year started in the tank because I was still missing my sweet Bailey. I turned 51 on the 3rd, celebrating another year with the Breakfast Crew downing half-price martinis at Joseph's. Life got a little happier around my house on the 10th with the arrival of Bailey2. She is a little ball of fire, who has made me laugh every day since she arrived. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, on the 14th, when I should have been excited for a dear friend's birthday, I was instead mourning the passing of another dear friend's mother. A few days later, I found out my kindergarten teacher passed away. I don't know if every kid loves their kindergarten teacher, but Mrs. Sweeney was an icon in Farley. Everybody had her for a teacher and everybody loved her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following week I came down with a mild case of the flu. Several years ago, when I used to scoff at the prospect of getting a flu shot, I came down with a severe case of influenza after returning from a vacation in Australia. I realized then why some people actually died from the flu. Although my flu this time around didn't compare to that, it still knocked me out of work for two days, completely zapped my energy for about four days, and left me with a lingering hacking cough that is only now starting to subside. Nasty germs out there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Earlier this week, I was scheduled to fly to Washington, DC for a meeting with some of the leadership team at work. I was initially scheduled to leave Cedar Rapids on Sunday at 10:30 a.m., arriving in DC at 4:30 p.m. Due to the ice storm that was pummeling the area at the time, my 10:30 flight was canceled, and I got rebooked on the 3:30 p.m. flight. Secretly, I was hoping for another cancellation. That would have been so nice. We were delayed leaving Cedar Rapids until 5:00 p.m., arriving at O'Hare about 6 p.m. By this time, the sleet and freezing rain were in full force so no planes were taking off. Of course, that meant, there were no open gates for us to park so we were stuck on the tarmac in a little commuter jet for 3 hours. I missed my original connection to DC and was rebooked on the last flight out to DC that night. We finally got to the gate, and I made it to that flight with only about 15 minutes to spare. I arrived at the hotel in DC at about 1 a.m. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Monday, I left DC on time at 2 p.m. Everything seemed on time for my connecting flight back to Cedar Rapids; however, about 5 minutes before we were scheduled to board the flight was canceled due to fog in Cedar Rapids. American Airlines graciously rebooked me on a flight leaving at 2:00 p.m. THE NEXT DAY. I called our corporate travel agency and they were no help, other than to say I could rent a car and drive home. Ummmm, no. I was already sleep deprived from arriving so late in DC the night before and who wants to drive 4 hours in the dark in the fog? Not me. I opted to take the shuttle to Northwest Indiana to visit a friend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day, I arrived at the airport on time, we boarded on time, and then we sat. And sat. Evidently there was some snafu with the ground crew and nobody had loaded the luggage. By the time a crew showed up to start loading, a thunderstorm had blown in and the ramp was closed due to the lightening. We sat for another hour and 10 minutes before we finally were able to take off. After arriving in Cedar Rapids, we were informed there was no gate because the earlier Chicago flight was still at the gate due to the ground stop in Chicago. ARRRGGHHH!!! Can you say trip from hell? All this annoyance for a one hour meeting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As eager as I was to see the start of a new year and to celebrate my birthday, I am happy to say goodbye to January. It was a month filled with too many emotions for me and a little too much stress. </span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-79604696399224151062013-01-01T12:55:00.000-06:002013-01-01T12:55:06.313-06:00Happy New Year<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My first post of 2013 should be filled with all kinds of resolutions and optimism. I'm not up for it. I don't want to be pessimistic, but I feel surrounded by sadness that is hard to shake. My significant other's mom has been in intensive care since Christmas Eve, and suffered a setback last night. Another friend's father had a serious heart attack earlier in the week and is still in the hospital. When my friends are sad, I am sad. And, don't get me started on the fact that today is the two week anniversary of my Bailey's death. I'm still trying to snap out of that, but it is hard for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning I woke up to news that the Senate agreed on a bill to "save" us from the fiscal cliff. Now, the onus is on the House to agree to it. I have no hope that they will. The politicians will continue to politic and accomplish nothing, and we will have smaller paychecks because of increased taxes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During World War II, the country made all kinds of sacrifices for the war effort. Food and gas were rationed, factories re-tooled to provide military supplies, women went to work to takeover for the men who went to war. Have we made sacrifices in the past 11 years since the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq began? I'm not sure we have. Collectively, we seemed more worried about we, individually, didn't have. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, all these thoughts contribute to my weirdness today. Not to worry. My niece and nephew will be here soon to help me de-Christmas my house. There is nothing like the innocence and enthusiasm of a 5 year old and a 20 year old to make you feel better, along with the baked potato soup that is simmering and the fresh pan of brownies. </span><br />
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<strong><em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Happy 2013 to All.</span></em></strong> </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628177767756919607.post-63054536139665730282012-12-19T20:03:00.001-06:002012-12-23T22:52:07.978-06:00How Do You Measure Grief? <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merriam Webster describes grief as deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement. And to be bereaved is to suffer the death of a loved one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This week, I have been wondering if all grief is the same or if some grief is more poignant than others. As a nation, we mourn the deaths of 20 children and seven adults in the shooting rampage in Newtown, Connecticut. For the families who are burying their loved ones this week, particularly as the holidays approach, it seems that no loss could be worse. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday, I lost my beloved Sheltie, Bailey. She passed away while we were driving to Farley. Her death wasn't completely unexpected. She had just celebrated her 13th birthday the day before, and she had been battling heart disease for over six months. I dreaded the thought of losing her, but in my mind I always assumed she would get to a point where her quality of life had deteriorated, and I would have to make the painful choice to put her down. My sweet girl spared me that decision. She was sitting next to me in the front seat, as she had done hundreds of times before in the 11 years we were together. I knew I was losing her, but I was happy to be there with her, comforting her, talking to her, stroking her hair and rubbing her belly, just like I always did. She slipped away in a matter of minutes. I was devastated. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I sat at home later watching TV, there were numerous updates on the latest with the Sandy Hook tragedy. While I was crying over the loss of my dog, families were burying their six and seven year olds. Did I have the right to really be that sad? I would tell myself no and shake myself out of it. But, later, when I would think of going home to an empty house, the tears would flow again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, I found a little Christmas ornament that I bought last weekend. I had put it with some other items and totally forget about it. When I unwrapped it from the tissue paper, I remembered that I bought it "for Bailey." It was a little slate that read, "What part of woof didn't you understand?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm still conflicted. Driving to Indiana today, I was listening to NPR when they carried coverage of President Obama's press conference appointing Joe Biden to a commission to identify ways to reduce gun violence and keep our citizens safe. I thought he delivered a very important message, especially when he recounted several additional deaths as a result of gun violence that have happened since last Friday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't have any answers. Maybe there aren't necessarily different degrees of grief. Individually we all respond differently. I just know that I will miss my Bailey terribly. She was an awesome dog that was full of personality. This picture was taken less than two days before she died. I called it her birthday picture. </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2