Goodbye, Cali Girl, we shall miss you...

She was a little pup in a pile of pups, yet the only one awake. As I walked up, she climbed over all of her sleeping brothers and sisters to greet me. A blond dog with eyelashes the color of caramel, and beautiful tilted eyes. I lifted her out -only to play with her for a few minutes, I convinced myself. I left the Humane Society an hour later with her in the front seat. When I arrived, climbing out of the car and depositing this small pup on the driveway, my husband said ...that's not a kitten. I had left to pick out a kitten. Minor detour. We named her Cali -setting our sights ahead to a future life in California. That was 14 1/2 years ago.

Cali brought us much. She was young and feisty and a great swimmer. A mix of lab and chow chow, she was what you'd call "a looker." She and our dog, Soul Man, were buddies. He black as night, she golden like the summer hills of Southern California. When our children arrived, she was good with them. Patient, patient...patient. When Soul Man died, she became more social. She liked it when we were outside. She would often wander into the middle of a back yard "pitch and hit" family baseball game, and lie down in the middle of the outfield - right where you wanted to go...

Other than eating, Cali loved hikes most of all. She chased deer and squirrels, and was the best gopher catcher to ever spend a weekend near Solvang.

She left us this night, peacefully, surrounded by love. We will be forever grateful to our lovely friend, and veterinarian who helped her to the next life in the comfort of her home. I like to imagine that there is a Heaven just for Dogs. And, that it looks like the book: "Go, Dog Go!", by P.D. Eastman. Do you like my hat?! Yes, we do...we really, really do! Goodbye, Cali Girl, we shall miss you...

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The Weekly Chatter

Like bonbons, the bon mots keep us going...

Earlier this week, GIRL and JCK were headed out of the house for Daisy Scouts. GIRL and BOY had been bouncing off the walls, amping each other up. Finally JCK and GIRL were able to get in the car and drive away.

JCK exasperated: GIRL, why did you get BOY so riled up? That's not fair to BOY or Daddy.

GIRL: Oh, I'm sure Daddy will get BOY unriled.

Upon JCK & GIRL's return, E.K. and BOY were having a creativity contest- LEGOS and Dominoes being the building materials. Earlier in the evening, they had a "Who can Build the Tallest LEGO Structure" contest.

E.K. building a tower.

BOY: Dad, it can't just be tall. It needs to have style.
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JCK and E.K. were talking about their 16th anniversary coming up (today.) There was a bit of reminiscing.

BOY (to E.K).: If your name had been Barf Face, Mom would never have married you.

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Creativity dying a dusty death somewhere nearby

Today, calling myself a writer feels deceptive. Oh...I miss it! The writing life. The sifting of words to replace the ordinary. The stretching of my brain into creative alleyways. That feeling, like no other, of stumbling down a path that alternates with smooth stones and unknown crevasses. I want it, all of it, and need it. But, for now, my writing life is sitting low. Sometimes it feels like it is just out of reach, patiently waiting for me, and other times it feels incredibly far away. As if that was another person entirely.

My writing muscles grow weak - my life taken over by The Must Do's, and my head cluttered with The To Do's. Creativity dying a dusty death somewhere nearby.

Words, like clothes, get old-fashioned, or mean and ridiculous, when they have been for some time laid aside —William Hazlitt

If I could have anything in my life at this moment, it would be the ability to do it all. The adjustment to working full-time has gone well, yet I feel overwhelmed...often. Perhaps, I have to accept that it is the perpetual state of one who works full-time, is a wife and mother, and who has some semblance of a writing career...on the side.

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Apparently, moths are now attracted to eau du perimenopause

JCK SWORE, and you know how JCK likes to curse, that she would not, could not, should not write another blog post referring in any way, shape or form to perimenopause. However, JCK lost. Alas, poor readers, here we are... adrift... on a sea of JCK's hot flash sweat. Before you venture further, JCK is giving you an Ally Ally Oxen Free. You are free to go elsewhere and read golden nuggets of wisdom and adventure on a wholesome and informative Parenting Blog. You will not find that here today.

Yessiree, Mr. Wilson, THE CHANGE has begun. JCK would say that the stress of THE CHANGE has turned her hair WHITE overnight, but you know that she would be lying. She will say that humor is of the essence in her home life now. That, and sleep. Oh, good grief, here comes Another HOT ONE...is there NO MERCY?! Excuse JCK while she strips down.

Where was she? Oh, yes. Sleep and maintaining a sense of humor. JCK, in pursuit of having an open dialogue with her children, talks about THE CHANGE every other hour or so. JCK's son is now claiming to have hot flashes of his own and JCK's daughter asked her just the other day:

Mommy, what's your favorite kind of hot flash?

Yes. She did say that.

They laughed and laughed, at JCK's expense, including JCK - lest you think she is humorless.

In all fairness, the discussion was about a movie and what each of their favorite moments were. GIRL seemed to feel it was a natural leap from movie moments to her mother's heated moments. Ahhh...the segue.

JCK believes she is emitting a new scent. Just this morning a moth started darting at her. Now, during normal circumstances of a moth darting at JCK, she would only be annoyed, but JCK started thinking a little too much and was righteously OFFENDED. JCK knows that moths are not butterflies drawn to flowers and sunlight. Moths are drawn to musty old closets. Apparently, moths are now attracted to eau du perimenopause. And, to JCK. She gritted her teeth and moved on. The moth dead on the floor. Smashed to bits by the toe of JCK's low heeled fuzzy slipper.

JCK is tired now. Most of the time. It used to be that JCK could get by several days a week on 5-7 hours of sleep a night. No more! By the time it is 8:30pm, JCK drops with exhaustion and often climbs into bed. There is many the time when JCK is tucking in her children that she wishes to curl up right there...next to the adorable cuteness. But, she manages to stumble back to her bedroom and tumble into her own lair. Whether it is to protect her sanity or her vanity, and there is no accident that those two words rhyme, JCK's vanity/sanity dictate that she retire to try again another day.

It is to be noted that: JCK's husband would probably want to debate JCK on the definition of "lair" & that JCK absolutely DENIES that she is a poseur.

Last night was a fairly good night. Only awakening once or twice in her own dew, JCK felt fairly refreshed when she awakened this morning. However, her face appeared to have hillocks under her eyes. Not to be deterred, JCK slathered her anti-PUFF lotion under her eyes. It felt so soothing, she spread it over her entire visage. What lovely oil. mmm.... And then, she realized!@#*^!!?? that she had been smearing anti-frizz hair oil all over her face.

Lest you worry, JCK wasn't that upset. You know... one time, one mistake. Happens to everyone. She's always saying that to her children. Except that she looked at the amount left in the bottle and now believes that she may have been putting this on her face for a few days. Perhaps JCK needs a bit more sleep. She'll need all of her energy to run away from the ATTACK moths...

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