Oh Ziggy

Oh Ziggy...

My Lil' black and white, Houdini.

You were always the problem child but had personality and a smile that could make anyone's day. You chewed up four remote controls your first month with us, followed by knocking down our twelve foot Christmas Tree on Christmas Eve and chewing up the lights.

You could jump a five foot fence like it was a baby gate and often did.

We thought maybe a peep hole would keep you satisfied, it did the other two dogs.



Then there's the time we found you in this picture posted on Facebook after searching the woods for over four hours,

 after you jumped the back fence. The nurses at the elementary school half a mile away had you with them in the school office. You were always seemingly trying to escape a concentration camp...when in fact you lived a phat life in an over half an acre fenced in perfectly great yard with plenty of food, water and even a house where you were encouraged  rather than merely allowed, up on all beds and couches.

Once we had you neutered, your wanderlust faded. Guess those really were 'bouncy balls' you had.

You haven't tried once to jump the fence in our tiny yard in Orlando which is not even four feet high.

 You've been to the beach and were real intrigued by God's huge water bowl.

Sure didn't do much for your thirst though.






All our dogs have been and are, good dogs. They all have different stories and are as varied as my own three human children.

We still miss Ole Charlie, Sir Charles, Chally Boy, Chally Too Fat, Scar Face and about ten other nick names. In hindsight, fourteen years is an excellent run and his life should be remembered as a celebration of that.

Ham's number's up next, he'll be fourteen this year, but when it happens will also be thought of as a celebration of a good, long life.

-

The reason we invested all this money in Ziggy's surgery is that he only recently turned six, still feels and  acts like a puppy and should  be around for quite a few years. to come.


It hasn't been his favorite thing to ever happen to him.

This was over a week after surgery. Two more scars on the other side.

He adapted well (considering) and after a shaky couple of days, rebounded. Everything is healed but about one inch part in the middle of that hugest scar. The one spot he could reach turned into a lick fest every time we weren't watching him. The hard plastic cone was like coming at him dressed in a "Dog Catcher" uniform holding that pole with the wire noose on one end. The city of Orlando where we live didn't have one size large blow up 'no bite' collar so went with the cheapest next, which was a size medium for twenty bucks.

Ziggy is about as medium sized as I am.

Anyway, it worked great for a few days until he finally figured out exactly where he had to get that collar clasp around his neck to be , so he could still lick that one inch  wound with that white Cool Whip (freakin' antibiotic creme) he just couldn't get enough of, he'd even lick it off the dog bed. Problem is, it made him sick.


Idiot.


I was supposed to take him back for a wound recheck the other day but  has healed so well (thanks to the small cone) knew the Vet would just say, "Great job, Ms. Cotton! Just keep on doing what you're doing and we'll see Ziggy back here once he finishes all his medicine. That'll be thirty five dollars; you can pay at the front desk."

I called and say I had to reschedule for the following week.

I also bumped up my game since I was already taking shortcuts again. I knew he had healed pretty well (because we busted our asses taking care of him after that surgery) and with vigilance would recover just fine. The right size collar and the wound would be gone in less than five days without him licking the medicine off.

 I went in search of a bigger inflatable collar, meant for a dog his size. I went to five stores; none had large and only one had extra large.

I bought it.

Forty bucks.

Dammit.

Of course, he weighs over eighty five pounds so maybe I should have gone for extra large from the jump.

It's just that extra large one had that extra large price tag, but I got it. If you're gonna get 'em well on your own, that last step of the way...do it right.


Ziggy about lost his mind with the right size collar on. He couldn't even see the part of the scar he wanted to lick. He could feel that creme on there after we applied it. He could sniff it. He knew it was back there. He knew he really wanted it. At least he could see it with the little collar. He stood in the middle of the room for twenty minutes not moving...obviously pondering this new twist (and complication) to his recovery, his way.

He scrubs the doorways, couches and beds. He's like a freight train with his big new bumper. Its thrown him off balance, us one upping him.

He wanders around like a dude who was stripped of his Mo Jo, or at least his "Dog" card. He gets creeped out about settling down, kept me up all last night, pacing the floor and wouldn't lay down. Not licking that wound was driving him nuts...and it showed.

But at least we haven't had to apply that creme more than twice a day and stays visably on there the entire time. The wound is down to under half an inch wide and healing up 'pinkishly.'

I put the vet appointment off until this Monday morning so Tim can finally go with me again. I get nervous when that office is full of dogs all yapping at each other. My dogs aren't yappers but sure perks them up when the heard all that ruckus. Zggy pulled me down the last time when we were in the exam room (luckily alone) and two dogs out in the lobby seemed to be having a growling pissin' contest.

I could let Tim take him and stay at home  but know the vet is going to be very impressed with Ziggy's often hard to come by progress and how well he's done; he should at least commend us for our efforts before sending us to the lobby window for another office visit payment.

That's right. I want MY credit.

I'll say Tim helped some too.


Pretty sure tomorrow will be the last visit unless we need those couple of staples to stay in for a bit.

It took Ziggy about two days to finally get the drift that he's stuck with the right size inflatable collar now so may as well get used to it...and kiss that 'lickfest' good bye.

And he has.

And he has healed.

And just like that, Ziggy looked even better the next  morning. Tim suggested calling and moving the appointment (yet again) for his recheck until the following week. I agreed. They've (the vet) most probs caught on to us by now but pretty sure they know we are taking Ziggy's getting well seriously while at the same time trying to save a buck.


It happened for us at a good time. It happened when we were caught up financially  (also something to celebrate) and at a time when someone would always be at home to take care of the patient. I better be in Ziggy's will.


Tim and I are also super excited that late next month we'll all (even Zach) be on vacationfor a week together in the Keys. None of us Clampetts have been there. My brother is going and taking his boat. My sister, her husband and hopefully their boys, spouses and significant other can make it as well.

I get chills every time I think about this trip.

Talk about a "Sit right back and you'll hear a tale" moment?!!

I'm taking a coconut in case we need to make a radio or something.





I'm finally getting used to not feeling like a failure anymore. It's a different feeling.
It's  a reassuring feeling.
It's a good feeling.


I am so down the line on why all this goodness happened to us, but sure am glad they haven't kicked me out of the dance yet.

I think I still look pretty good...

Don't you?



I'm finally feeling back to my old self again after being sick for what felt like forever. Bonus points am also up to triple digits on the scales, even without my Danskos, for the first time in over five years.

I got this now, thanks to my past.


Til next time...COTTON

Helping A Little Helps A Lot

When we first moved to Orlando I introduced Massey to a girl I worked with, around her age. She is the sweetest kid ever. She is always positive and upbeat...and for the life of me (after learning her story) wonder how she manages it. Her mother suffers from debilitating MS and is totally wheelchair bound. When I first met this young girl, her Dad had just been diagnosed with cancer and was scheduling chemotherapy. That's the way Massey came to know her, going with me to drop dinner off for my coworkers' family every week or so, just to help out a little bit.

All said and done, he finally recovered and was in total remission. I'm sure it was a huge relief for them all.


A few short weeks ago, Cancer reared its ugly head again in the form of tumors found during a  routine check up. His insurance company denied to pay for chemotherapy this time.

Nice. (not!)

Luckily they found a drug company who would pay for the chemo.

 My daughter and her friend started a go-fund me to help with the bills while he was going through treatment.

https://www.gofundme.com/CuljatTeam


We're off to a good start and hoping to be able and help quite a bit, considering gofund me keeps a percentage.

I'm going to go pitch it to the head of our Human Resources and see if maybe the company could help out this team member.

Wish us luck and will keep you posted. Feel free to click the above link and read their story and throw a little Love their way if you can. You get by with a little help from your friends.

Be a friend.

Til next time...COTTON

A Few Of My Favorite Things

Mother's Day may be my favorite holiday of the year. Number one I had the greatest momma ever, albeit just for seventeen years. I've missed her every single day since but still grateful for every day I had with her.

Granted I've had a couple of Mother's Days which were pretty lackluster (like when Tim gave me an anniversary card by mistake) but as all my kids have grown up, they tend to spoil me more with each passing year. I certainly wouldn't earn a prize for Best Mother or runner up or top ten but think I did okay. None of them are dysfunctional and all are pretty great adults and extremely hard workers.

What more can a mother as crazy as me ask for?

I've had some bad things happen in my life but for the most part have laughed more often than cried.

I call that "Winning."


I grew up in a wonderful family...

and now I have my own wonderful family.

This past Mother's Day has been one of the best. I talked to all three of my kiddos in three different states and was spoiled beyond belief. My daughter gave me the wonderful present of a necklace with three rings on it, each engraved with my three kids' name on it.

She also bought me a vase of tulips.

Ole Jed (my husband) as I fondly call him..

 gave me a dress that I will actually wear.

I was almost shocked by how much I liked it.

He also gave me a pair of sunglasses, which always come in handy living in the Sunshine State. My current ones were purchased at the Dollar Tree and are more like toy glasses. I mean what do you expect for ninety nine cents?

Massey took me to lunch after we ran a few errands. We were at the register in Yankee Candle and the guy ringing me up said "Those sun glasses are awesome, by the way, just to let you know." I told him I'd just gotten them from my husband for Mother's Day and thanked him for the compliment. We were leaving the store and got to the car about fifty feet away. I had to wait to get in my side because a young girl was getting her small daughter out of the back seat of the car next to us. She apologized for me having to wait and I told her not to worry about it. After she got her daughter out of the car seat, she turned to me and said "I love your sunglasses, they really Pop on you!"

Dang, Ole Jed done good!!

You know, more than a few years ago I wasn't sure we would make it and more than once felt like throwing in the towel and walking away from the dance.

The main reason I didn't was because we had kids together and those kids deserved to live in a nucleus family.

Ten years later and thousands of miles down the road of life, we discovered happiness again and am so glad neither of us gave up.

It's called the Dance of Life for a reason.

We didn't get through this alone. 

We got through this with the Big Guy Upstairs, family, friends and even strangers. We were carried through by a collaboration of charity, prayers and love.

Once we moved to Orlando I started my writing  agenda. I'd lived in the south side of  Atlanta for over fifty six years and felt lost when we moved. I essentially moved away from my entire life.

I have probably written well over a hundred letters, if not more, to peeps back home. It's not only kept me in touch with friends but has allowed me to meet many more, including relatives who I haven't been in touch with for years.

The connections made me realize that life truly is a circle.

It started raining the day after Mother's Day and has rained every day since. What a buzz kill. Especially when you just got a killer pair of sunglasses.

I know we needed the rain, but did we have to get it all at once? On the up side, I now have grass in my back yard again.


We also have been coping with Ziggy, our youngest boxer, recovering from a pretty big surgery to remove four (luckily) fatty and benign tumors. The boy came through like a champ. I was actually amazed. One of the tumors (on his hip) was almost the size of a tennis ball. I was preparing myself to get another 'remembrance' clay paw print in the mail from the Vet.

The three smaller incisions healed up quickly but unfortunately  could reach the huge incision and started licking it the minute he felt better. The vet sent us home with a large plastic cone of shame for him to wear. Ziggy gave that one a hard no the first time we even tried to strap it around his neck. When the wound started to pop open where he had licked the stitches until they began to dissolve, the vet put in a couple of staples and gave us a prescription for really strong tranquilizers and we just keep the boy sedated. I can't really blame Ziggy for not wanting to wear the cone. You can't see anything or where you're even going, much less eat or drink.
 Then a good friend of mine from high school told me about the inflatable ring collar she used with her dog. I picked one up today and its a whole new ballgame now. When we first put it on him, he stood there for over five minutes without moving a muscle.

  He's starting to get used to it, and bonus points can still see, eat and drink. I cut the zombie pills down to one instead of two just because he's such a high energy dog and don't want him to do too much until the incision heals completely.

 We go back for another wound check tomorrow and finally feel like the ole boy is gonna make it just fine...if I survive the next visit to the vet. Tim usually takes him, simply because he is so strong and hard to control when excited, and a room full of strange dogs really piques Ziggy's interest to say the very least. Also it's crazy how people let their dogs bark their heads off at the other dogs in the room and go towards another one. Considering I only outweigh Ziggy by five pounds, if another dog lunges at him, there is no way I could hold Ziggy back. The last time I took him it was around three in the afternoon and the place was packed. The first time I took him it was 8AM and I was the only one there. I'm making a morning appointment for the next visit. The earlier the better.

Although I really like my job and everyone there is wonderful to me, it is beginning to exhaust me working five days a week. Number one, we have tables inside, outside and in a solarium. Number two, it is summer eleven months out of the year here in Orlando. When I have to take tables outside in long pants, long sleeve shirt, heavy apron and carry heavy plates...it tends to be one long six hour unrelenting hot flash.

I was complaining to Tim about it the other week when he just shrugged his shoulders and said "Well then quit working five days a week."

I guess I've had to work five and six days a week for so long it simply never occurred to me that I didn't need to anymore.

The past two weeks I've worked four days a week and I feel like a new person. Luckily the area around the restaurant has really taken off with buildings going up everywhere and business has more than doubled since I started, with nothing but better things to come in the foreseeable future. So I'll make a little less money each week. That isn't going to break me. Working full time will. Serving is an extremely physically demanding job, especially when you are a dedicated, borderline perfectionist of a  server.

(Well maybe not that day)

And just like that...

five years later, everything is gonna be just fine.


For the first time in almost ten years we are all taking a family vacation together this summer. My family, my sister and hers and my brother as well. We always went to the Gulf Coast area off 30-A but are switching it up this year and spending a week in the Keys. None of my five have ever been and all are pretty stoked. To make it even better my brother is taking his twenty seven foot boat down and will have access to tool around all the islands and explore.


Sometimes you have to wait. Sometimes you have to wait and wait. And sometimes you need help while you wait, and sometimes you even have to wait some more.

I looked up 'wait' in the dictionary. Ironically, waiting on tables was also mentioned.

 Also mentioned were synonyms for waiting.

What struck me as odd was, over the past decade we have literally lived through every single synonym.


Synonyms for waiting:

delay, hold up, interval, interlude, intermission, pause, break, stay, cessation, suspension, stoppage, halt, interruption, lull, respite, recess, moratorium, hiatus, gap, rest.

Hello?

Been there, done that, lived to tell the story.

For any person reading this who thinks life is lost, it isn't. Sometimes you just have to fight for what you are willing to wait for.

Til next time...A Happy COTTON

Huge "Whew!!!"

Back in February I got a speeding ticket on my way back to Georgia for a cousin's funeral. He  (supposedly) clocked me doing 93 in a 70 zone. I'll admit at times I got up to ninety when passing someone but had been following a black Mazda for almost three hours. It was about a quarter mile ahead of me and certainly going faster than me. Sometimes I even lost sight of it.

The cop was nice enough but kinda strange. He asked me to step out of the vehicle and come to the rear of my car. Then he pointed to the car magnet my daughter had given me.

He asked where I got it? I told him. He wanted to know where she got it? I told him I didn't know. He said he liked it. Then he told me I could get back in my car and leave, after handing me a ticket.

When I got back to Orlando I looked up my ticket on line. It was going to cost me $422.00.

 I knew I should have taken that magnet off and offered it to him.

Instead I went on line, found the car magnet and ordered one.

 Then I got his name off my ticket and mailed the car magnet in a manila envelope to the sheriff's office writing  "To the attention of" and wrote his name. The only thing I included in the envelope with the magnet was a sticky note which read "My daughter found it on line."

Needless to say my husband was not very happy with me getting the ticket. In my defense was the first ticket I'd gotten in almost twenty five years.

One of my managers at work suggested for me to go to court instead of paying the ticket and if he didn't show up they would drop it.

I didn't buy the magnet to bribe him. If I had wanted to bribe him I would have offered him the magnet off my car that day. I just wanted to send a message that even after he gave me a $422 ticket when I was going home for an unexpected funeral and had a lot on my mind, I was a bigger person  and could be nice even if he hadn't been.

Tim thought I was crazy, and isn't far off the mark but after discussing it with my brother and sister decided it was worth a shot. I worked like crazy (see) and started a ticket fund in the sugar bowl above our stove. When I had finally saved up the $422 I wrote to the address on the back of the ticket, where it said to make a written request if wanting to plead not guilty and they would give me a court date. I only had forty five days to respond but saved the money in a month, then wrote requesting a court date. That way if I was found guilty I'd had the money saved up. If I was found not guilty, I'd have a nice nest egg to put into savings.

Well the forty five days came and went. I check the mail every day for a letter from them. Now it's been almost three months and I started to get nervous. Had they gotten my letter? Have my license been suspended for not paying within forty five day? It took me a week to work up the courage to call them.

I called them after Tim said the car insurance had gone up fifty bucks a month...and quickly blamed it on me, and my ticket. I drove everywhere like a granny (which I am)  after he told me that. I  was terrified of being pulled over and carted off to the poky for driving on a suspended license.

The first number I called from the back of the ticket said they only took payments of tickets. I asked how to find out if they had received my request for a court date? 

Of course I was given a number which remained busy for over three hours.

That made me even more nervous about the whole thing and came extremely close to just calling the court back and paying the ticket in case my license had been suspended.

Instead I finally googled the sheriff's office and called them.

A young girl answered and I asked if she could check the status of my ticket for me? 

Of course she said she couldn't.

She told me the sheriff was out for lunch but would give him my name and number.

I honestly thought he'd never call me back, but three hours later (musta been a large lunch) my cell phone rang and it was him.

He asked if I had tried to call the courthouse and recited the same number I had called for over three hours.

I told him I couldn't get through.

He said "Yeah they stay pretty busy over there; let me try and call someone else for you and I will call you back again."

Not five minutes later he called again to say they had indeed received my letter requesting a court date, it had arrived in plenty of time but the court calender was currently four months behind. He said they would most probably write to me in Orlando around June and the court date would most likely be in late July or August.

BINGO!!

I asked him if my license was still valid and he assured me it was, saying I hadn't been found guilty of anything yet and the forty five day window of time didn't matter because the back up was on their end. 

I thanked him for checking for me and (as long as I had him on the phone) briefly told him the whole thing included extenuating circumstances and would just like to plead my case, not having received a ticket in well over twenty years, was heading home for a funeral of a relative who had died unexpectedly and was late because of heavy traffic out of Florida.

The man was so nice to me and said he understood completely. He also gave me the name of the county solicitor and said to contact him after receiving my court date. He added that he was a great guy and hopefully could work something out for me.

I was floored to say the very least.

This certainly wasn't what I expected when I made that first initial call.

I felt like Karma was once again  on my side. 

I came this close to sending off my hard earned $422.00 just to be safe but after a little extra effort and determination, think I made the right decision.

As they say on TV cop shows "I may just beat this rap."

It's worth a shot anyway.

You never know what you can do until you try.

Yes I was speeding when the radar tagged me. I was also passing someone at that exact moment in time. There were also plenty of people driving much faster than me and pretty sure not all of them were on their way to bury a loved one who died sudden and unexpectedly.

I haven't gone more than five mph over the limit since that day and don't intend on doing it. I leave early for work and take my time getting back home after work.

Worse case scenario, I have the ticket money already saved. Best case scenario, I learned my lesson and will have a nice little pot to add to savings.

Since then, we've also had a scare with our oldest boxer who is over thirteen years old. One day he suddenly woke up, was lethargic and instead of a canine heart rate of sixty to one hundred sixty, was barely beating at fifty and often pausing for a second or two. He didn't eat for over two days and rarely moved. The third day, he woke up and actually ate a small bowl of food.

It wasn't like he was exuberant but being a boxer at the age of thirteen was highly unlikely anyway...even on a good day.

But at least we still had him around.

Massey is very close to this ole man and was terrified to think of losing him. Seems he only had some type of bug but more than that, think he was preparing Massey for the inevitable. It's going to happen and unfortunately sooner than later. 

He's not in pain, he doesn't seem to be in any distress other than he is simply a really old dude, for his given breed, totally blind and his ole ticker is slowing down, just like him.

So we have yet another pup as well. He's only approaching the six year mark. Still a kid in our minds' eye of dog hood.

Horrible dog for his first two years. Couldn't take a dump unless he was on the carpet in our house.

Chewed up so many things we lost count. The last thing I remember him chewing up was Zachary's razor. 

Really???

Couldn't keep him in the yard, even with a six foot fence.

We renamed him "Lil' Houdini."

He got out of the yard one morning, was gone for over three hours.  I searched and searched for him. Then Massey found this picture of him posted on Face book by some school nurses. They had him at the elementary school , in the office, half a mile up the road from the end of our subdivision.

We had him spayed the next week and changed everything.

Boxers are prone to fatty tumors, our first one had more than a couple of little ones. Ziggy has grown a few, maybe three small ones but one huge honker on his hip. It got so big my nephew renamed him "Two Tails."

Relocating to Orlando, starting all over again, my job falling through and other things simply got in the way. We're not "Charge it" people. We pay for things when we can pay for them.'

We decided, after ole Charlie passed that we had to get Ziggy's shots up to date and have those fatty tumors removed.

Last week we had his shots updated and scheduled tumor removal surgery for this week.

Tim took him in at seven thirty in the morning. He picked him up around five o'clock. I was already at work by then. I was just thrilled he had survived the surgery. I was worried we had waited too long.

Time sent me this picture at work, where the tennis ball sized tumor had been removed.

The vet was able to remove them all completely. The tumor on his hip was now just a knot the size of a Hersey Kiss. The vet had warned us the largest one may not be completely removed but we were pleased with his work.

He had a rough night. So did I.  I got home after work around ten at night. He paced the floor until almost three in the morning. I pulled the dog bed in front of the couch and fell asleep on the couch around three thirty. I woke up and Ziggy was curled up on the dog bed fast asleep.

Baby steps!

The next morning he was better and actually wagged his tail when we talked to him.

We're now on day four since surgery and I let him walk around the back yard on his own for a few minutes this afternoon. We've been walking him on a leash three times a day around the front yard just to pee and poop.

He's got two other sets of stitches on his other side as well. Poor dude, no wonder he had a hard time sitting down with all those sutures on his hind quarters.

I don't know what it is about being one of our dogs, but they sure know how to take a licking and keep on kicking.

For an English Bulldog to live to be fourteen is a feat in itself. We still miss the ole grump with his  gorgeous white eye lashes and black eye liner.

Moving to Orlando happened and transpired with many different emotions, circumstances, situations and has been quite a learning experience for me in this game of "Later In" life. 

I've learned a lot about myself and have learned a lot about others.

I've learned that it's okay to be sad, as long as you don't let it consume you.

I've learned to have more faith in my self.

I've learned to bloom where I happen to be planted.

I've learned to cherish old friends and enjoy making new ones.

More than anything else I have learned that whenever you think you have a lot of problems, you don't. There are always millions and millions and millions of other people who would give anything to only, (or just) have the problems you are dealing with at any given time in any given situation on any given day...and to help those people if and when that opportunity ever may present itself to you.  And the greatest thing I've discovered to be a stone cold fact, is the more you do for others, the more good things will happen for (and to) you. This also includes feelings, animals, situations, environments and surroundings, near and far. If you care about others, your own self will be taken of even more.

I know I'm borderline Crazy as a Loon but sure makes life more interesting. If I had a dollar for every time my husband or kids rolled their eyes at me or shook their heads about something I've said or done, I would have been a millionaire way before I had all these wrinkles and lines.

I enjoy what I do for a living, which is basically to try and let others experience joy.

What a great job to have!

Last night at work, my last table, at the end of a long closing shift was a table of four older people from Oklahoma, visiting here in Orlando. We were almost closed so I had plenty of time to stand and chat with them. A lot of people, especially older ones, don't really get the concept of our restaurant. It's designed to be small sharable plates. All food is delivered to the table as soon as it's ready and comes out in random order, encouraging guests to order a couple of items each and try a little bit of everything that hits the table. It's a unique way to be able and try anywhere from six to eight to twenty or thirty different things off the menu, depending on the size of your party.

They weren't all that hungry, old peeps rarely are... for some unknown reason I will find out much sooner than later.

I told them to just order one thing each and maybe split a salad, adding I would leave a menu on the table in case they wanted to order something else.

You know crazy me.

By the end of dinner (which they enjoyed a lot) I knew all about them and they knew all about me and my move to the Sunshine State after well over half a century in the Peach State. They said that they would definitely come back again while staying next door at the Marriott and asked if I worked the next day? I told them I was off on Thursday but would be there on Friday. One of the women asked my name again so they could request for me to be their server. I told her "Just ask for the old one and you'll get me."

After they left I went out to the patio where they had eaten and picked up the check presenter book. They had left me a great tip and had written on the receipt "Great service. We enjoyed you waiting on us very much".

By this point the only ones left in the restaurant were me , the closing bartender, busser and manager. 

I was finalizing the  ticket on the computer when I saw the note. My manager was standing next to me when I said "Awe, the old peeps left me a little note!" and she leaned over to read what they had written. She then said "See Kelly, you made a difference."

I said (kinda kidding) "I try."

She said "You most certainly do."

I think that's one of the nicest compliments I've ever received; actually it means the world to me and encourages me that I am on the right path of this thing called life.

It's one thing to try and be a good person. It's an awesome thing to know other people realize that you are trying.

"Trying"

(Yes I used Siri, but I also said please)

"Make an attempt or effort to do something."

It's a simple concept which could and can be interpreted in so many different ways but also make so many more differences, with just one small gesture.

Hence my note writing frenzy.

 The response has been incredible. Out of all the people I have written, pen in hand and sent simply snail mailed, have heard back from almost every single one.

I feel Karma is what has allowed me to have pups who lived way beyond their expected years. It is what has allowed me to have three children who have grown into their own, in different ways and  different time lines but all ultimately successfully so.

Yeah I married a man with a mullet who wore a Casio watch on his wrist to our wedding.

But I  stuck with the one who brung me to the dance. I accepted when he asked me to begin the dance, not even knowing if he was a good dancer and while we have do-si-doed a bit here and there over almost thirty years, it feels incredible to have the same partner... and for him to end our phone calls (rare and far between) always saying "I love you'" is a pretty big bonus.

Life is what you make it.

I so hope we end up being the couple behind me.

Live. Love. Learn.

Till next time, COTTON