Skip to content

My Girl.

I’m coming back……with food. Working on a “Where Have I Been?” blog as we speak. Should be posted by Monday at the latest. In the meantime, please enjoy a post I did about my best friend. While not food-related, I’m particularly proud of it. And now that she’s gone, the words mean even more. Cheers.

On August 27th, 2012, my doggie daughter Lois was diagnosed with colon cancer.

I savor every quiet moment with my girl, the good as well as the not so good. She roams our woods searching for a good place to do her business, walking through our forest floor, ferns brushing our legs, mushrooms of every size and shape and color dotting the leaves. Brown tiny-tree like stalks peeping out, and huge white mounds the size of bread loaves or flat like dinner plates. Tiny red umbrellas, and lacy orange fluttering down the side of a stump. Once a tiny pink elfin mushroom, and once, even a magical blue too bright to be real.

She hunts for the perfect spot and I breathe through the fact this might be one of our last days together. I hope we get to roll in the snow one more time. She so loves the snow. My beautiful girl.

My favorite moments of all are when she sleeps by my side early in the morning after The Hubby has gone to work. On her back with her legs splayed out snoring softly. I lie there and listen to the birds and breathe and try to hold onto it, to remember what it feels like to hear crickets chirping, dogs barking in the distance, their echoes calling for my girl to come play, to actually hear the sun rising and to hold onto and remember what it feels like to be loved by Lois. Her gentle eyes telling you everything will be okay Mommy, I’m here, everything will be okay.

Her koala smile tucked into her closed mouth, turned up ever so slightly at the corners, such a small grin conveying such huge happiness. Her soft snore, the way she softly barks in her sleep, her paws tap-tap-tapping on the sides of her crate in the night as she chases rabbits or deer or runs with the direwolves chasing shadowcats. I read, listening to her and The Hubby snore in tandem, each one on either side of me and I am content.

When I first read “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” by Milan Kundera many years ago and Tereza described to Tomas her love for the dog Karenin, how she might just love Karenin more than she loved him, I rolled my eyes and wrote her off. She’s just a dog. Tomas is your husband. Then I fell for Lois and my whole world changed. I understand how a dog can make you see the world differently, can make you see yourself differently and teach you things about yourself you never knew. They look at you in such a simple, pure way, with such a clean love and never, ever do they expect anything back. What little you have to give them they will take gratefully and never begrudge you a single thing in return. They never resent you or feel threatened by you. You can hate them and even beat them and they will still crave your love.

It is such a purity of spirit, such a generosity, love at its essence. It makes all other forms pale in comparison. You give them love and they give you the world.

You have so many things in your life, your family, your job, vacations, cars, hopes, dreams, goals, anxieties, fears. All they have is you. And that’s all they need.

You never see a dog with self esteem problems. Sure they might be afraid or shy, but a dog never goes around hating herself. Lois just smiles, wags her tail, and looks at you with those big dark eyes as if to say, “Aren’t I cute? Aren’t I just the greatest? Don’t you love me? I sure love me. I sure do. You do too, right? I can see it. You’re DYING to give me a pet. And a treat. And a belly rub. You loooooooove me. You really do. I can tell. Who wouldn’t love me?”

Lois has taught me more about life than any person ever did or will. Dogs have the uncanny ability to act as a mirror. We look into their eyes and they reflect back onto us that which we love most about ourselves. And for most of us, it’s a shocking sight, one we’ve never seen before. For many, including me, it’s the first time we haven’t felt indelible self hatred from reflected images.

Instead of walking around this planet beating ourselves up, dogs remind us why we should love ourselves and each other. I feel better about myself knowing Lois. And by being her Mom, she has taught me to finally get rid of the self-hatred I’ve been carrying around since I was a child.

Taking care of her has been my greatest honor. Loving her my finest gift. And each day I have left with her will be my best.

LoisBed

Tea and Cider on BTF.

Hey y’all. Yeah, I’m one of those…get over it ;) I’ve been hibernating as I tend to do every year from January to March. I’m convinced I was a bear in a previous life.  I love to sleep, eat trashy food, I’ve dumpster-dived (for a FABULOUS mid-century end table) and honey is my favorite. When I was 15 I boycotted all Winter school assignments, including the ever-important term paper because the due date was in March. Ms. Rasnake, who not once pronounced my name correctly, passed me with a “D-” for the year without a second glance. Yeah, she was not pleased. But that’s another story for another time and venue. In other words, I digress.

I have been writing though, working on two books, one sort of about food, one sort of not. I’ve been gearing up my cookbook store for Fleaville in May. And I’ve been submitting bi-monthly “Drink This!” columns to that wonderful website, Beyond the Flavor. One about hopped cider from those good-lookin’ Potter’s Craft boys, and the other about my favorite Sage Tea at Twisted Branch Tea Bazaar. Just up today in fact.

On a day like this, I can think of nothing better than to soak up rays on the Twisted Branch back porch. Tonight they’re calling for snow maybe, so it’s back to layering myself in fleece (THIS is my new favorite thing, WANT!) and curling back up in a ball to sleep, becoming one with my blankie. Wake me when it’s Springtime, will ya?

2013 in Review.

Okay, this is pretty cool. It makes me glad so many people visited, and it makes me sad I only posted 32 times. Resolution for 2014, post more than a twice-a-month average. Cheers and thanks for reading everyone!

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 18,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 7 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 4,400 other followers

%d bloggers like this: