The Morning Shower

Did you ever notice that the morning shower is sometimes more than just good hygiene?  Only on super chilly mornings do I dread entering the shower and then only temporarily, because when that warm water hits and begins to thaw me out -- heavenly is the word that comes to mind.  It's more than pleasant smelling soap and warm water though. For me, the morning shower has become a time of inspiration.  I don't know if it is because I have figured out things in my sleep and the shower awakens my brain, or if it is something else.  I read one time that the presence of water sometimes makes inspiration come more easily. (It's like in that old movie, Laura, where the old skinny guy writes his newspaper column while sitting in the bathtub.)  I guess I care less about the why or how; it's more that the shower time is often productive in solving problems, or in getting new ideas to explore, or in thinking of new ways of doing things.  Have you had this experience?

I don't often share this with people for obvious reasons.  I mean who goes around saying, "You know what I thought of in the shower this morning?" 
Although --  odder still is the story someone told me one time about his father suddenly making a appearance while he was in the shower.  His father was deceased.  Actually I was most interested in this -- didn't find it creepy at all...and, interestingly, neither did he. The whole "thing" was reassuring somehow.  Yet when I think about it -- there are few people I would want to share my shower with -- and all of them are alive -- and some of them don't even know me.  On second thought, I hope I can reserve my shower space to myself. I get a lot of good thinking done there.

Scissors

There have been times throughout my life when I have listened to people lament the loss of a sock.  "It's like the washing machine eats them for fun", they say.  I am thinking that you may have had a similar experience or have heard others talk about coming up one short of a pair.  Here's the thing... I don't really have a problem with missing socks.  I don't recall ever having such a problem.  My issue is scissors.  

Scissors have always been an issue for me.  I will give you a for instance....  In 2001 I moved into a new home.  I distinctly remember counting my scissors as I found them while packing to move.  I was astounded to find that I had sixteen pairs including a pair of pinking shears that are more than a little difficult, if not impossible, to operate.  Of those sixteen pairs, the only one I am able to locate at this moment in time are those cantankerous pinking shears. I have no idea where the rest of them are.  

Have no fear, however... There are now several other pairs floating around  -- at least 12 that I know of -- all purchased in the past 14 years.  I counted four dirty and well used pairs of various sizes and colors while I was working in the garage just the other day. I distinctly remember using my favorite pair to open a tough bag of rock salt last winter. They have never been the same since -- thus their placement on the shelf in the garage. There are also texturizing scissors in my bathroom, a pair of tiny thread cutting scissors in a drawer someplace, and at least four pairs of nice scissors that I have ruined by cutting things like twine, cardboard boxes, mailing paper and packaging tape.  They look nice standing in a mug on the kitchen counter, but good luck getting them to cut a hanging thread or to open a plastic bag of mini pepperoni. (Looks aren't everything, as we know.) It's a dilemma, one that I have created.  

So -- once again decent scissors are on my shopping list -- all the while I am promising that I will save this pair to use while cutting fabric or when mending. I am not kidding myself though -- I know that will not happen.  I know that in the pressure of the moment, I will grab the scissors now and regret later. It's shameful.  At least I eventually relegate the dull ones for use in the gardens and garage if I don't misplace them first.  Where do they all go?  Does anyone else out there have this issue? Do I have to move again to find those other sixteen pairs? Would I want them if I did find them?  I just don't know.  Am I alone in all of this?  Are all of you missing sock people?    

Heart Hugs

I had a wonderful friend who gave what he called heart hugs.  They were the kind of hugs where you wrapped your arms around each other and pressed your hearts together.  They were indescribably wonderful. He being much taller than I sometimes made these hugs hard to manage, but if I could find a step to stand on, they were perfect.  I miss him.

Recently on Facebook someone shared a copyrighted "photo" that made me remember these hugs.  It was a scene of Charlie Brown and Snoopy hugging. The words? "I love the kind of hugs where you can physically feel the sadness leaving."  I think the source was something like "You are My O2" It was sort of hard to see.  Anyway -- that is the best definition of a heart hug that I could ever imagine.  Perfect....

A wise woman once shared with me that she never passes up a hug. She is one smart lady as she is definitely a hugger and thrives on them. Not all people are huggers though. I think hugging may be a learned behavior and some families are just not into it.   I am from a hugging family and sometimes I am not into it.  I get it. 

Hugs are healthy in general. Not all may be heart hugs, but all hugs are a good thing...even the ones that send your glasses flying. I have taught my grandchildren the heart hug.  Some things are worth passing on from generation to generation.  I consider it a gift from my friend to them. They never had a chance to meet him. I think, as he did, that it is important to share the good things, the best things about people who have passed through your life, whose lives have been a blessing. It's a poignant kind of immortality -- if the best that was them continues on. 

Heart hugs all around. 

A Laugh Fest

Laughing is one of my most favorite things.  It is good for a person -- physically and mentally. Over time, many have written about laughter being good medicine, good for the soul, etc. Still true today, and isn't it nice to realize that some things last -- that this is one of the things that has survived? 

Recently I shared a delicious, homemade brunch with several of my cousins. When we get together for this type of relaxed, no-special-reason get-together, it is always a time of laughter.  "Funny" runs in our family, I think. We enjoy each other -- know each other -- have known each other all our lives. We laugh together.  It's bonding.

Topics of conversation vary, of course, but we usually touch on a few funny stories about our relatives, current goings on, plans, etc. Once in a while there is something we have to sort out. This particular gathering we got caught a bit on pierced ears. I think it is important to note here that there are lasting effects from some of life's decisions -- like having one's ears pierced -- or like the time my sister got a new electric razor from our Aunt Doris and decided to try it out on my legs. I was ten. Sometimes your life changes forever. Before I get to the cousin discussion though -- I want to share with you how I remember the whole ear piercing thing in my life.  I  don't remember ever wanting my ears pierced. My Mom and sister, both girly girls, decided that I needed them pierced, and for my sixteenth birthday and gave me earrings they liked and an appointment to have my earlobes drilled. I distinctly remember our family doctor grumbling that if God wanted our earlobes to have holes, he would have put them there. Neither he nor I were thrilled -- but we went along. Must mention that I haven't worn earrings in years. I like them on other people, just not my thing. I don't often think of the holes in my lobes. It's all good - although I just wish they would disappear.  Speaking of -- don't you wonder what all these tattooed people will think as they grow older all colored in ink that may clash with their outfits or that may be an unfortunate lesson in what happens with aging skin? There are going to be a lot of wrinkly tattoos...for sure.

Anyway... to get to the point -- this was the situation at the laugh fest:

One of my cousins had her nine-month-old granddaughter with her. (In our family, we like to start the children young in respect to the laughter "thing".) The baby had recently had her ears pierced, and that event gave direction to the conversation as two of the cousins, in their sixties or thereabouts, have always wanted to have their ears pierced, but being the big chickens they are on things like this, have never done so.  So -- the questions began. "Did the baby cry?"  Was there an audible crunching sound?"  What is the healing time?  We actually found quite a bit to say on this topic. The baby was totally happy to sit on her Nana's lap and was not at all aware that her teeny earlobes had become the center of attention.  My one cousin brought it all to a fun highpoint with this remark or something sort of like this (I don't always remember word for word and sometimes lose my notes).  She said...  I have often thought that I should have one of those medic alert bracelets engraved -- If you find me unconscious, please pierce my ears.  Need I say more? 

Having written all this, I just hope I am invited to the next laugh fest.  Maybe they will let me come if I promise to leave my notepad at home. I have to say -- this group has been my inspiration more than one time.  They are like that.  Fun and funny does run in the family. We all love to share laughter; it's a good thing all the way around.

I call her the Lovely Luna...

I call her the Lovely Luna. She is a regal Norwegian Elk Hound mix, playful, loyal, gentle, but "mega" protective, and... top dog intelligent. I hope you know or have known a dog like this one -- a bit on the timid side until she launches into her protective mode. She loves her humans. I have mentioned her before in this blog -- she is the inspiration for the almost 3 acres of invisible fencing that came up in a post a few weeks ago. I will do what I can to protect this dog.  Recently she stayed with me for a few days, and I must say that she is welcome again at any time in the future -- definitely.  She is a lovely and frequently invited "guest". If truth be known - she is Family (notice the capital F) as well as the perfect visitor. She happily eats whatever you put in front of her, she never snarly mumbles or makes any noise of any kind actually, except a rare single bark to "ask" someone to open a door. If she had thumbs, I am convinced she would open the door herself. She is pleasant, has friendly eyes and appears to listen to everything you say to her with the added bonus of seeming to be interested in what you are saying. I am thoroughly convinced that she understands a good deal of English.  She also sleeps all night on her own bed -- doesn't lurk about or sneak up on furniture,  and ---she smiles.  She is never a Miss Grouchy Face -- ever. Can you ask more than that from a guest?  I think not.  She is perfect except for when she rolls in questionable pasture substances like deer poop or bear meadow muffins  and ... then... there is the doggy breath issue that may or may not be related to the previously mentioned dubious behavior ... but....  I can easily overlook these minor "unpleasantries" -- they are innate dog characteristics and... I love her. Plus it is obvious that she thinks she smells good and is so proud of herself that you just have to laugh as you gag.  

Other than going to work with my daughter at a nearby animal hospital, Luna is, for the most part, an outdoor dog. That probably is a good thing considering the last few sentences of the  previous paragraph. When visiting she spends most of her time wandering about and rolling in/sniffing things in the pasture or making a good show of being a ferocious guard dog.  She is protective. She especially enjoys positioning herself in elevated places and scanning her territory with head up and at least one ear raised.  She has trouble keeping both ears perked at the same time for more than a few moments. I don't know why. Perhaps it is a concentration issue. She does appear at times to be a little bit ADHD. Anyway ---it is especially nice for me when she has returned from her explorations and is tired out a bit. I like it when she snoozes on the floor beside my desk chair (like she was doing when I began to write this post).  As I said before -- I love her. What I did not mention previously is that she understands me. The house seems somehow empty when she leaves even though you hardly know that she is here when she is.  One last good thing is -- I know she will come back often if for no other reason than she goes almost everywhere with my grandkids...and...  I buy special cheese to put on her dog food and sometimes sneak her food from the table.  She likes to eat here.  Yep -- she will be back and that is a good thing.

P.S.  Reality check. A few days ago the lovely Luna had an "encounter" with a skunk.  She won't be visiting for a while.  I do love her, but I do have my limits....