Month Four.

She is four months old today, and I'm more in love with her than ever. 

In reaching her fourth month, Lucille’s two biggest accomplishments have been being able to sit unassisted for almost a minute, and sleeping (HALELUIJAH!) through the night. She slept through the night, FOR REAL, needing no patting and no replacement of the pacifier, for the first time, just two nights ago. Picture me doing Balki Bartokomous’ dance of joy. Unfortunately for me, she didn't have a repeat last night. Such is the story with babies - three steps forward, one step backward. At 2 am, I am resolute in my desire to sleep train her (cause I know she can do it), but then morning comes, and then it's time for her first nap of the day, and I still so very much enjoy holding my baby as she falls asleep in my arms. I'm constantly having an internal debate about wanting to have a child whom I can just lay down in a crib for sleep, be it evening or nap time, and the selfish desire to hold and rock her into dreamland. That's Mommyhood for you. For now I'm holding onto her - literally. In a couple weeks I'll revisit the idea, because if we're going to do it, I'd rather do this before heading back to work.

She has blossomed into a full-fledged gurgling, cooing, smiling, and even on occasion, chuckling baby. Lucy goes places with me and with us without much ado, and is pretty easy-going in that respect. She loves her doggie, Olive, and Olive loves her. They are becoming great friends and it warms my heart. She's a champ with tummy time, but really isn't doing much rolling over. She's graduated to 5 ounces per bottle!! Tomorrow she has her four month appointment, and we're both so curious to see how much she weighs and how tall she's become. This morning we gave her a little taste of avocado, more as a ceremonious moment, rather than one about really eating. Her face was priceless, and whether or not she actually swallowed any avocado remains unknown. I'm just glad she was interested in it. We'll keep giving her opportunities to try out this new thing called "food."

Just the other day I was sifting through the various video clips I have of Lucy, and I came across the only one from her very early days. In this clip she is just five days old, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I totally teared up watching it: a wee little thing, barely able to make any noise other than those kitty-like mews.  I ached so desperately to hold that sweet bundle again. The truth of the matter is, of lately, I’ve been feeling quite sentimental. I’m almost certain I can attribute this emotional phase to the fact that in just a short month, I’ll be back to work, and Lucy will be in daycare. I’m ready in many ways to get back to work, and even a little excited. And I’m of the belief that daycare will be good for her social development. She’ll make new friends and meet new people; her world will become that much bigger. But I’m also sad knowing that once we step into our new daily rhythm, during the week, I’ll only have a few hours with her while she’s awake; a dramatic departure from our days as we know them now. 

I’m working hard not to dwell on how much time is left before our next big step, because I don’t want to waste this final month doing just that. Instead, we’re enjoying our days together, playing, laying around, going places when the stinking weather allows for it. I’m not usually one for getting irritated with winter, but this winter season has been a doozy. Sitting in our storage room is our lovely new jogging stroller and we’ve yet been able to christen it because every two seconds it’s snowing or freezing, or everything is frozen over making for one large ice rink.

It’s a special time. I’m well-aware that these days I’ll never get back. Seeing that video of my five day old baby made that painfully clear. I have a bazillion photographs to document these fleeting moments, but I’m also constantly reminding myself to put down the camera and just enjoy her.

Be in the moment, fully present, just us two, mother and daughter.

Happy four months, my sweet Lucille.

Dear Olive,

I don't know if you can sense it or not, but summer is rapidly coming to a close; Monday I turn back into a pumpkin and return to work, and you fall back into your school-year routine of long napping hours in a quiet house. Not only was this a wonderful stretch of time for us, but it was special because it was our last together as just you and me. Next summer it won't be just us on the couch, or on a walk - a little girl will be with us. 

Our lives will soon be shaken up by the arrival of this little girl, but I want to promise you that you will not be ignored. Every now and then someone will remark to me that after the baby is born, you will "become a dog again." And I'm going to go out on a limb here (naysayers have a field day if you wish) and say that you, Olive, will never be just a dog. You are so much more to us than a four-legged furry animal. You have become an integral part of our home and our lives. You are family. I'm not saying that there may be times when this little girl will have to come first, but keep patient and I promise I will come for you as well.

Olive, how can I put into words, words you won't even read or understand, what an amazing creature you are? You provide laughter on a daily basis, your unfaltering loyalty is second to none, and let's face it - you're too freaking adorable with your perpetual puppy look and floppy ears. You have endeared yourself to us in a manner neither of us was expecting, and I will never for one second forget that in Big Red's darkest hours it was you, Olive, and only you, who could make that man smile. For that I am in debt to you. I will un-apologetically admit that since bringing you home three years ago that I have become one of those people - someone who probably loves their dog a little more than is socially agreeable to most. And I don't care cause you're awesome. I'm fine with that label.

I hope I've done right by you this summer, lavishing plenty of pets and hugs and snuggles, walks and playtime, and more than just an occasional special treat. My summer pal, my furry best friend - you have taught us how to love beyond ourselves in a way that I know has given us a tiny glimpse of what we are in for in the next few months. And who knows, you may even share a birthday with your human little sister - her due date is just two days after your birthday! 

Thanks for a great summer, thanks for being the galloping calamity of hilarity that you are, thank you for you. I can only hope my actions somehow translate these thoughts into something you can understand.

** my absolute favorite picture of Olive **

Pinterest. That's Why.

Pinterest. That's my newest online obsession and the reason for my fifteen day absence from this blog. Have you tried it yet - Pinterest? It's wonderful and addicting and wonderful. Did I say wonderful? Think cyberspace walk-in closet for all the things you like, want to try, wish you had, hope to make, long to someday complete. I've been quite partial to the collecting of recipes, one of which I'll be sharing with you in just a few short paragraphs.

Other than my blog negligence, life is lovely. Big Red is flourishing at his new job.  He just got back from several days at a race in Virginia. He reports having had a blast and learning plenty about the Formula 2000 racing gig. I baked two batches of man-sized oatmeal raisin cookies - one with dark chocolate chips and one with Reese's peanut butter chips. They went over very well and it felt good contributing somehow. I have no problems being marked as the cookie maker, and will happily send the hubs packing with fresh batches each time he travels. It's both comforting and warming to see Big Red so happy these days.

Olive has a new friend, Buddy the Beagle. Buddy lives next door and belongs to our awesome neighbors. Olive and Buddy play very well together and it's rather amusing. After a play date, Olive almost always comes in pooped and content. I like that she has another dog to play with as I think it's important to her quality of life. Sure, Big Red is an excellent playmate, and I do mean excellent (he gets down on the floor and basically wrestles with her), but no doubt Olive enjoys the company of another canine friend.

The goings on at work are copacetic. We have just 8 weeks (hallelujah!) left in the school year. It's hard to believe my students will be seniors next year - my beloved punks, the same ones I've been teaching for three years now. There has never been, and there will never be another group like the class of 2013. Through a series of circumstances and scheduling, they have been, almost exclusively, the only students I've taught for the past three years, and they will be my students again for their final year. Four years I've had the same students. Four years. Incredible.

Photo Credit: Lunch Box Bunch

Time for some grub. This recipe sniped from Pinterest lead me back to the blog, Lunch Box Bunch. The recipe calls for three parts: making the quinoa, prepping the stuff that gets tossed into the quinoa, and then making a slaw. When I made this earlier in the week, I made all of it. I wasn't too keen on the slaw, but the quinoa part was oh so yummo. I was pretty sad when it was all gone. If you click on the photo credit, it will take you to the website with the full recipe. What I'm including below will just be my adaptation and what I  enthusiastically recommend. And yes, it's vegan. BONUS!!

Curried Quinoa

Step 1: Make the Quinoa
1 1/2 tbsp Curry
2 tsp sea salt
2 1/3 cups dry, unrinsed quinoa
3 cups water
1/2 cup orange juice


Heat your quinoa ingredients on stove in a saucepan. Bring to a boil. Cover with lid and reduce to a simmer. Simmer for about 11 minutes. Turn off heat. Let sit, lid-on for about ten minutes. Lift lid and fluff with fork. 


Step 2: Make the "Toss-In" Portion

1 1/2 cups frozen peas (thawed or warmed)
1/2 cup salted cashews
1/2cup sweet onion, chopped
2 Tbsp rice vinegar
1/4 cup tahini (add less for fluffier quinoa)
2 Tbsp maple syrup (or agave - I used agave)
2 Tbsp nutritional yeast

Add the toss-in ingredients to the still-hot saucepan with the quinoa. The warm quinoa will gently heat and cook these ingredients. Yet the onions and cashews will still stay nicely al dente.

Grab a wrap or tortilla of choice, fill with magical qunioa mix, throw on some Frank's Red Hot (fabulous addition), and consume. I had some leftover after two glorious evenings of this wrap, and just took the quinoa in to work for lunch the next day - still delicious. You could omit the cashews if you're concerned about calories, but definitely add a nice crunch. Try this. You won't regret it.

MCP Project 12: Resolution

January. The first MCP Project 12 theme is RESOLUTION. I resolve to enjoy the little things. Little moments like snowflakes found on beautiful faces:

first snow

Happy 2nd Birthday, sweet Olive

WARNING: Doggie Post.

Today is Olive's second birthday. I should clarify. Today is the day we chose to be Olive's birthday based on the vet's best guess of when she might have been born. Since Olive was adopted from Animal Friends, her entrance into this world is a little murky. We know she was at a high-kill shelter in Ohio before being rescued and brought to our local shelter. She was underweight and terrified of people. Today she is a well-adjusted, super happy mutt, and we couldn't love her more. Olive is our antidote to dreary days, returning our affection in spades. Yeah, we're crazy about her. Can you blame us?

Dear Olive, you'll never read this and may never understand how lucky we feel we are to have you in our lives. People may call us nuts, but you're worth every party left early, and every happy-hour skipped. Happy 2nd birthday, and welcome to your doggie teenage years.

dog days

Madonna of the Mills

Big Red and I just finished viewing the documentary, "Madonna of the Mills," on HBO. The documentary follows Laura, a woman from Staten Island, who has rescued over 2000 dogs from Amish and Mennonite puppy mills in Pennsylvania.

Come. On. Pennsylvania.

According to the documentary, Pennsylvania is the 7th state with the highest concentration of puppy mills. This all due mainly to the aforementioned farmers. Initially the Amish and Mennonite started "raising" animals for the commercial pet trade as supplemental income. It was something that would help keep their children home and a job those kids could help with. Because puppy mills are so lucrative, many of these farmers dropped their produce farming and focused entirely on their puppies. At one point in the documentary there is a clip of a farmer showing off his "stock." He waves his hand proudly (picture a Barker Beauty from the Price Is Right) showing off his 800 dogs.

800 dogs caged in wire. Cages that by USDA standards don't have to be much bigger than the size of a washing machine. The dogs are rarely ever let out of their confinements to enjoy a leisurely walk or run through some grass. They are stepping in each other's feces and their paws are infected because of the wire trappings.

Don't even get me started on the clips of the rescued dogs. Their eyes, oh man, those sweet sad eyes just pleading for help and love. There was one sweet dog, an older female named Liberty, who when first rescued would find a corner, lay down and put her face directly into the corner. Her new attentive owners would have to bring over her food bowl and water bowl and put it under her nose.

As if that's not horrible enough, here are some alarming facts:

10 THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT PUPPY MILLS

1. 99% of puppies sold in pet stores come from puppy mills.
2. Nearly 100% of all puppies in pet stores have parasites when they are purchased.
3. 48% of puppies being sold in pet stores were ill or incubating an illness at the time of purchase, according to a recent California study.
4. 500,000 puppies are born in puppy mills and sold in pet stores every
   year in the United States.
5. There are 35,000 pet stores in America
6. Puppy millers can make more than $300,000 growing puppies every year.
7. Puppy mills have been around since the early 1960s.
8. Almost every Puppy sold in a pet store has a mother who will spend her entire life in a tiny cage, never being petted, never being walked, never being treated like a dog.
9. Female dogs are usually bred 2x a year. At that rate, they usually burn out by age 5, at which time they are put to death.
10. About 1 million breeder dogs are confined in puppy mills throughout the country.

It's infuriating and heartbreaking. While we watched the film, both Big Red and I brought Olive up onto the couch between us. At one point he went and got her a treat. I couldn't blame him. I think of how much love I have for Olive, what a sweet soul she is, and something burns in my chest at the thought of anyone treating her poorly. To think so many thousands of animals will never have the chance of having the life Olive lives is disheartening.

I'm proud of the fact that we adopted Olive from an animal shelter and that we did not buy her. For every dog that gets purchased, another in a shelter goes without a home.

All facts were taken from the website: madonnaofthemills.com

dinner time

Our resident mama deer and her two little ones stopped by our neighbor's yard, as they often do, for dinner last night. I happen to have my camera handy so I was able to snap a few images of the trio. They weren't the least bit interested in a weird lady peeking around a tree like a creeping marauder. They ate to their fill and then vanished back into the trees.

And then just because I think this is an adorable picture of Olive, I included it as well.

The toy in her mouth used to be a plush lion. Olive has an affinity for ripping up soft toys almost immediately upon being given one. But that's fine by us as she's never once touched our furniture or linens. Mom brought the lion for her. It's now a disemboweled lion. Its stuffing entrails are scattered around the house. Poor little lion, you lasted about a day. You were no match for our "intense chewer."

Frankly, I'm happy you were sacrificed and not our furniture.
That's the way we like it around here.

the end.

Today marks the official last day of summer for this gal. It's been a good one. I wanted the summer of 2011 to be a productive one, one that I felt didn't slip through my fingers.  I feel good about the past nine weeks; I accomplished much of what I set out to do, and even added a few bonus items that I wasn't anticipating. One of those bonus accomplishments was learning to knit. Mom, while here, helped me get started on a blanket. I only know two knot/stitches, but it's a start. The blanket on the other hand is going to take me a long, long, long time to finish.

This morning I put Mom on plane back to California. The alarm went off at 4:45 am, and we were out the door by ten after 5 am. I just got a call from her about half an hour ago - she'd already landed, had her bag and was waiting for Dad to pick her up.

I miss her already. Ouch.

I've said before that I don't regret our choice to move out here, but forever and ever I'll carry with me the debt I have paid to make our life out here happen. The cost was leaving behind my family. It isn't something I'm constantly thinking about, but it sure sucks when I have to drop Mom off at the airport after a fabulous 10 days together.

Oh, and that shirt she set out to make? She finished it last night. Just like I said she would.

I requested a couple more tops and sent her home with some money for fabric. We'll see what she comes up with! Big Red and I are hoping to make it to California for Christmas this year. I'm definitely going, but we've got to play it by ear as far as Big Red getting time off from work. Thankfully, Christmas is just a few short months away. Actually four. Not that I'm counting or anything.

After dropping off Mom I came home for a nap, then went out for a little retail therapy and some back to school clothes shopping. I love what I got and am looking forward to wearing it. In fact, I'm looking forward to the start of the 2011-12 school year. Who knows what stories, what laughs, what frustrations year 8 as a teacher will bring me. I welcome it all (at least as of right now). As much as I'm ready to get back into the classroom, I'm definitely going to miss my summer pal:

I so enjoyed hanging out with Olive these past couple of months. I hope she knows how much I love her, and what happiness she brings to our home.  I plan on continuing our daily walks, just swapping out the morning time for evening. Perhaps even Big Red might join us.

This summer brought so much relaxation, plenty of good reading, some quality writing, two house projects finished, I tested out some new recipes, and I added a couple of new toys including my newest baby - a Cannon EOS Rebel T2i. So LOVING my new camera. I've even got a few photography projects on the horizon including another friend who is pregnant and is going to let me shoot her maternity photos this Autumn when the leaves are at their prettiest.

Sweet summer, you've done right by me.
See you again next year.

summer: day 30

I don't have much to write about these days. Perhaps it is my woman of leisure status, but honestly there ain't much to scribble out. It's been humid in a way that I haven't experienced in a long while. When I step outside to let Olive relive herself at 8 am, it already feels as though mother nature herself has gotten a bee up her bonnet about nesting and has unnecessarily (and cruelly) bundled the world with a sopping wet wool blanket. Poor Olive. After she relieves herself she wants little to do with investigating the leaves and branches in the yard. She promptly returns to my side as if to beg with those melt your heart eyes: Can we please go back inside where there's air conditioning? And that is what we do. Return to some semblance of breath-ability and comfort. 

I have been reading and finished my second summer book, Half Broke Horses, by Jeannette Walls. She also wrote the very popular memoir, The Glass Castle. Read that one too. Super good read. Her second book, a novel by technicality because it is written in first person, is at heart, her grandmother's memoir. It had me from the very first page until the very last. Once again, I have read a book that leaves me wishing I wish I could have written that! But a novel? I don't know if I have the patience for all that detail and all the in-between that belongs to a novel. I am a poet by nature. I like the concise nature of its form. I can pack a punch in ten or twenty lines without having to give readers all the filler. Although...I will say that I am attempting to branch out a little more. This blog, for instance, is an example of that growth. I want to hone my skills as writer of creative nonfiction. I'm dipping my toe in the Gilbert - Sedaris - Didion pool. Whether or not I'll be able to perform an effortless butterfly in said waters remains to be seen. I'd like to believe I have the chops to give it a worthwhile attempt. One of my first attempts is the essay, "B&B." 

I am also trying to get through my first issue of The New Yorker. I bought a subscription as a gift to myself for completing seven years of teaching. It is definitely a magazine of superior writing quality, but - not all the articles are of interest to me. There are a couple I'm going to scan or simply skip. Is that wrong? Can I not call myself a reader of The New Yorker if I commit such atrocities? Is it really an atrocity to skip articles in a magazine? I also subscribe to People (goes along with my quality TV watching lineup). I read every single article in People. Yeah, I know - it appears I still have a long way to go. Working on it.

I continue to exercise, walking Olive first and then either going for a run myself or hitting the elliptical. Although the scale says nothing is happening, I feel so much better than I did in June. I'm eating healthy, attempting to keep my cuisine simple and enjoyable. Occasionally I'll indulge in a summer treat here and there. I've also decided something. I'm done with counting calories. I'm done with doing "diets." I don't mind the occasional fast or cleanse, but I'm done with all the other crazy fads and whatnot. I know what to eat. I know how much of it to eat. I'm going to listen to my body and how I feel. The scale will always be there, I haven't been able to throw it out, but I'm not going to live and die by it anymore. You can hold me accountable on that one.

Today is day 30 of my beloved summer. I'm not panicking just yet, but I do feel a sense of the passage of summer time. I've got a few fun things lined up for August: Lunch with MJ, a trip to The Fake Beach (read: Lake Erie), T will be giving birth to Miss Daisy, and Mom is on a hunt to find cheap tickets so that she can come out for a visit. 

Summer is NOT OVER yet.

Not no way, not no how. 

Guess I did have a few things to write about.

Backyard Nature

When I let Olive out yesterday afternoon to do her business, this is what I found sitting in the yard:

Two baby deer waiting for their mamma to come back and get them. Maybe she had to stop at the grocery store for milk. They were so well-behaved and entirely unafraid of me with my camera, or the neighbors on their deck next door.

While we regularly see wild turkey (so incredibly loud sometimes), groundhogs, skunks, raccoon, chipmunks, moles, squirrels and deer, we have never seen such young deer before. This isn't something we would have ever seen back in Torrance, CA. We have a veritable zoo right in our backyard. It's quite nice. I'm not a fan of the skunks or the raccoon, but the other animals are great. And to be honest, it's not like we're in "the cut." We're just seven miles from the true city; we're barely touching upon the start of the suburbs. I have to proudly report that Olive did not take off like a wild banshee when she saw them. I called her back into the house and she followed my directions. My instinct says that the fawn would not have been as excited to play with her as she would have been to play with them. And I didn't know where mom was. Lord knows what a crazed mamma deer would have been like coming out of the trees.

There you have it. This week's edition of backyard nature. I have to include the following picture of Olive, lazying the day away as I write in my office. To her credit we did go on a walk this morning, a little later than usual and it was sticky-gross hot out:

Yeah, that's right girl. Kick up those paws and relax. It's summertime.

summer: day 9

I don't know what's going on but round these parts, the weather has been lovely. Is this our reward for enduring what seemed like end-of-days kind of rain? I'll take it. There's a great breeze and I'm sure the temperature is somewhere in the 70s. The sun is out and blue in the sky can be seen.

Is it wrong to eat a mango and half an avocado for breakfast? I hope not cause it was delicious, and the bright orange flesh of the mango against the green of the avocado was as pretty as it was yummy. Aren't we told to eat the colors of the rainbow in our fruits and veggies? Accomplished. Olive and I got a late start on our walk this morning. I caught up with a couple of friends on the phone, then a couple of TV shows on the DVR: Million Dollar Decorators, and 16 & Pregnant. Yes, I know - you don't have to say it, my taste in entertainment is above par. We only watch quality in this house. After nudging me several times, Olive and I  headed outside for the morning tour and then returned back home for a lunch of honey wheat pretzel sticks, broccoli salad, and iced tea.

On tap for the rest of the day is time with Tina Fey's memoir, Bossypants, and then later this evening I'll take part in a book club. I've never been in one before, and my only frame of reference is what I've seen on Oprah. A handful of people sit around a perfectly staged dining room or living room, glasses of wine or coffee in hand, and they discus the significance of why an author chose to set the story in the fall rather than the spring. Sounds a bit like English class to me. Yep, we drink wine in my classes. My students love me. I'm looking forward to the book club. We're discussing The Happiness Project. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm almost done with one of my summer projects - transforming the office into my writing/craft room. I finished the curtains this past weekend and organized the bookshelf. I think all I have left to do is find a frame for one more item, and then at some point get to IKEA for the glass top that will cover the fabric slipcover I made to hide the older desk. With the glass in place, I'll have a nice crafting work station. Oh and there's that Macbook Pro that will look amazing on my desk. Yeah, I haven't gotten that yet. Can't seem to find Macbook Pro money. Maybe someday. Pics of the room to come soon.

I've rejoined Facebook. I'm not sure how I feel about it just yet. I'm leery. I'm hesitant. But, it is summer. What better time to try it out again?

the year of Olive

Today marks the one-year anniversary that Big Red and I brought Olive home. And what a year...

It was definitely my push to go get a dog, and Big Red made it clear that it would have to be me visiting these dogs as he would never be able to do it. He was once reduced to a tearful snotty mess after watching one of those jerk at your heart-string shows about dogs in shelters. If he went looking for a dog, he'd come home with the oldest saddest case only because he knew no one else would want to give it a home. While I adore Big Red for his BIG heart, I was not prepared to bring home a medically challenged dog. Sorry. Just couldn't. So, with his blessings, I set out in search for the right mutt.

I visited search sites multiple times a day, viewing hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures of sad faces with longing eyes that pleaded pick me, I'm worth loving. I came across one that spoke to me, and then went to visit her. She was a lovely dog, but something was amiss. I passed. I kept searching, clicking on pictures, and reading their stories. And then a gorgeous honey colored lab mix popped up. She looked sweet. I made an appointment immediately to go see her. But, nope, still didn't feel right. Then I set up an automatic search via Petfinder. For a few days I got emails alerting me of one match or another, but none of the dogs that appeared were right. And then this picture:

Her name was "Harbor," she was a German Shepherd mix, and she had been living in a foster home. That face. Those ears. There was no question. I immediately responded by filling out an online application and then calling Animal Friends. I had been the very first to respond and was able to set up an appointment just a few days after the end of the school year. "Harbor" had been at a high-kill shelter, and was brought to Animal Friends. She was underweight and terrified of everyone. They said she wouldn't make eye contact and when called, she crawled on her belly, a shaking timid little girl.

Upon meeting "Harbor" a few days later, I was smitten. I was convinced. I set up an appointment for the following Sunday, June 27, 2010, the Sunday that Big Red would get to meet her, and if all went well, we could take her home.

And home she came with the new name, Olive:

There aren't words enough to describe how much both Big Red and I adore this dog. She brought a smile to Big Red's face during a period in his life when he found little to smile about. They are the best of friends and have regular playtime every single day. She's smart when it counts, silly in a little kid kind of way, and incredibly loving. She willingly endures my need to squish her with tons of hugs. I find I crave her sweet doggie smell. Both Big Red and I make sure she's well taken care of; we feed her quality food and treats, and she goes to the vet routinely. Summer is our time for daily walks, and I marvel at her strong little body as it trots along the sidewalk, her nose to the ground inquisitive of everything. She was just a tad over 30 lbs. when we first met her and she's now a sturdy 57 lbs. She's terrified of garbage bags, the vacuum cleaner and baths. She'll chase the wild turkey and deer in our yard with reckless abandon, but returns promptly when called - or when exhausted from chasing the elusive. She yawns like she's human, can stand up on her hind legs for seconds at a time, knows almost all her toys by name, and will devour both cantaloupe and sweet potato when given the chance. She is as much a part of our home, as we are of it.

Initially I was nervous of the responsibility, of how having a dog would change our lives. Turns out yes, our lives changed a little. Although we still go out and partake in socializing, definitely in the backs of our minds, we always have her. We check our watches more frequently, and we are simply more aware of her. Olive is the first being I've had that has depended on me entirely for her needs. Not that a dog is entirely like having a child, I can't help but believe that having Olive has helped to condition me, condition us, for something bigger. I have never loved a creature more in my life, and there's little, if anything, I wouldn't do for her. She has taught us to be more patient, and when on the rare occasion she does do something wrong, we temper our reactions.

When the dog trainer I visited asked me about her name, she asked, "Did you name her Olive because you love ALL OF her?"

Olive is love personified and everything we give her, she returns with unfaltering loyalty. I can only hope that by the grace of whatever it is that rules us, we are lucky enough to have many, many, many more years with her. 

Yes. We love all of her.

post script: Olive is an amazing example of what can be found at shelters. If you're thinking about getting a dog, or a cat, or even a bunny, please consider adopting. There are so many wonderful animals out there who need homes. Avoid supporting puppy mills, avoid spending hundreds (and sometimes thousands!) of dollars, and go find your best buddy at a local shelter.

summer: day 4

What a gloriously relaxing day 4. Big Red had the day off, an unexpected surprise, so Olive and I let him sleep in while we took our morning walk. The weather has been outstanding - 70s and very low humidity. We did our loop and came back to Big Red awake and having his morning coffee. While Olive and Big Red caught up, I hit the elliptical for half an hour and then did some upper body weights.

After some lunch, Big Red and I hit Target to stock up on some staples, and then it was back home. Big Red wolfed down his Taco Bell lunch, and I had a snack of yogurt and granola. I've discovered a new brand of granola that our grocery store is carrying: Cascadian Farm. It's organic and it's scrumptious. We prefer the maple brown sugar variety. Then, I took a luxurious two-hour nap. Why do we stop napping? It was great in kindergarten, and it's just as great now. We need to sign a bill that requires daily naps. I think everyone would be much happier and more productive. Finally it was time to prep for dinner (more on that tomorrow), and more relax time with the newest People magazine.

And that's it. Simple. No agenda. Nothing that had to be done kind of day.

day 1: summer

June 21. The first official day of summer for both the world, and myself. I figured I'd hit the ground running. Got up at 6:30 (it matters not how desperately I want to sleep in, my body just refuses to let me...), and watched the morning news with Big Red. He was off to work, and then Olive and I caught up on a couple of shows stored on the DVR. Then, it was time to head out for a walk. Olive was pumped and all wagging tail when she saw me pull out her harness. We walked for about 45 minutes in the sticky morning air, and then I attempted a yoga DVD lent to me by P. My unagi breath, or whatever the hell the woman from the DVD said it was, got its proverbial lotus-ass kicked. The session on the DVD is 60 minutes long, and I got through 20 minutes of it. I was all wobbly, and my once limber body has since become, un-limber.

From the ages of 5 to almost 13, I was a gymnast. I was a gymnast who could pretzel herself without thinking twice. I could bend myself in half and touch my nose to my knees. The splits? Pshaw! No problem. Now - not so much: BIG problem. I guess I shouldn't say problem, but rather more of a challenge. I'm not 13 anymore. I'm almost 33. I understand that getting back some kind of flexibility is a process and definitely an earned ability. I'm willing to work on it though, and that's what counts. 20 minutes of the DVD today, perhaps I'll get through 22 tomorrow, and then 27 the following day.

This summer is going to be about NO EXCUSES. I have high hopes for what I can accomplish both mentally and physically, and I think I've started well. Z sent me an email about what a great first night of freedom she had last night. A glass of wine and some warm summer air ushered in her freedom. She also wrote that, "teaching can be a beautiful thing if [we] embrace the eloquent freedom of summer." I've written about this before, how important summer is to a teacher, that it's much more than just 8 weeks of no students. In my humble opinion, we need it to be able to do our jobs well and passionately.

I don't think I'll have any problems embracing the eloquent freedom of summer.
Nope. No problems.

summer lovin'

There are just 31 physical days left between me and the sweet toe stretch of summer.  Of those 31, just 17 require me to be an active teacher.  Every year, around this particular time of year, I begin to create lists of things I want to get accomplished during the summer.  Goals, if you will.  My fear is always that the summer will pass and I’ll have nothing to show for it.  Last summer was all about Olive and pure indulgent laziness—although I did do a fitness boot camp.  Long hours spent lounging and watching the entire Sex and the City television series.  While it was genuinely wonderful to while away the hours, I’d like to be just a tad more productive this time around.

So, in keeping with my Type-A nature, and my need to make lists and cross items off, here is my “To Do” list for the summer:

• Take Olive on many, many leisurely walks.
• Do yoga!  This is a new one for me.  I bought a pass off of the ingenious Groupon website for unlimited use of a yoga studio.  I can take as many or as few classes as my little heart desires in the month of my choice.  My choice is July.
• Finish my writing/craft room.
• Pretty up the laundry area.  The cinder block walls are an ugly pale green.  I have visions of purple, and I’d even like to go as far as painting the outside of the utility sink.  Maybe add some flowers and butterflies...
• Eat well. Now, before you go an exhale with an eye roll, I’d like to make the case that it’s never to late to get back on the healthy train.  I had a relapse this last month, but have gotten it back together. I want to use the summer and all the yummy fruits available to me to get myself square and plumb when it comes to food.
• Enjoy my elliptical machine.  That’s an easy one!
• Seek out and try new recipes.
• Seek out new music.
•  Listen to more This American Life podcasts…or better yet, catch it live!
•  Take one trip.  It doesn't have to be big, and it probably won’t be.  I’m thinking something along the lines of Amish country. Maybe a couple of nights at an Amish run B&B.  I’d love to find an Amish made rocking chair that can be used, someday, in a nursery...
• Read, read, read, and read some more.  I believe there are roughly 12-15 books I have purchased over the course of the school year that are patiently waiting my devouring eyes.
• Rethink and revise my wardrobe.  The recent lbs. I have shed and the ones I’m planning on shedding will allow me to perk up my clothes. Don’t need nuthin' fancy, but I definitely would like to inject a little more femininity and cuteness into my choices. 
• Watch movies. I’m such a movie watcher. Thank god for Netflix.
• Write.  I’m going to attempt to make it a point to write every single day.  Be it for five minutes or fifty.

For as much as my job can frustrate the living hell out of me, I am grateful for this imminent time off to reconnect with myself and catch my proverbial teacher breath.  The more years I teach (this is the end of year no. 7), I realize how important summer is in the life of an educator.  For 10 months we’re expected to be ON.  What most people can’t grasp is that teaching is not all about just teaching.  If it were, then maybe summer might not be so critically necessary.  But teaching, real teaching, is just one small tiny component of our daily lives. We are master jugglers tending to ten million issues at once.  The respite summer brings, really and truly, is necessary.  We are systems overloaded by June, and when we leave our classrooms for the peace and quiet of July and August, that is our shutdown and quiet time, the rebooting necessary to come back in September, bright-eyed and willing to jump into the trenches once again.