November...Already?

 

Unbelievably this year is literally a few short weeks away from being over. Where has the time gone and more importantly what have we done with it? 

It's been a learning curve for me. Old age and forty plus years of slinging heavy plates and carrying countless bus tubs and huge buckets of ice took their toll on my body. It doesn't help that I'm basically a hundred pound walking saggy bag of bones but think as far as sixty five years goes, I pickled pretty well. (just don't get or look too closely at my face, mustache or goatee and random whiskers)

I look my best from ten feet away, without florescent lighting, and advance notice that you're looking at my face.

True facts at my age.

Resting Bi*ch Face is a real kill joy and is so hard to concentrate on not making sometimes. Unfortunately I have a mirror built into the wall above my kitchen sink. Fortunately it looks great there, and has an actual window frame around it complete with a sill and panes. Makes the entire kitchen look twice as big and I like being able and see all the way down the hallway behind me when I am at the sink. It has helped me with my RBF since every time I look in I need (and take) immediate action to correct my unprovoked grimace.

I'm learning to accept the fact that it is what it is. I'm a senior citizen now. When I was in high school it was all the rage and super cool to finally be a senior.

Now? Not so much.

How in the world did I end up being in the same age group as all my parent's friends? My mother died  just after I turned seventeen. My father died in 2002 from West Nile Virus but I have kept in touch with many of their good friends over the years. There's  not a large number of them left anymore but it's not a shabby number either. I'm going to guess about ten or fifteen. I write to a lot them (snail mail) and call the ones I have numbers for. I can even text the really savvy ones. Yes they tell me the same stories sometimes but I am also a compulsive repeater, especially if it's a funny story. I get it from my mother. My father used to make fun of her for it, and now so do my husband and brother... in their defense I am an easy target but in my defense they both still laugh when I tell them. So at least there's that.

Ya gotta count those blessings!

See what I mean about no florescent lighting and ten feet away? Works like a charm. Every. Time.

Dusk or dim lighting is even better! At my age you need to utilize your strengths, especially if it doesn't include any heavy lifting or walking up a lot of stairs.

 I have one bad knee I twisted in a speed skate for mothers at the skating rink in the early 2000's when my kids were little...and yes I came in second.

Kinda ticked me off because at first they announced it was only a speed skate for mothers and I went out there (pushed by my kids) but eventually followed by one other mom.. Then the guy on skates with whistle and referee shirt on says into the microphone "Or fourteen and up!!"

Are you kidding me? Of course a young girl won but I was hot on her trail. Not too shabby for a middle aged woman.

This was at a skate night for their elementary school. I was still waiting tables at night and on weekends but had taken a job in the cafeteria of their school so they could remain there when a huge county redistricting happened and they wanted my kids to attend a school further away.

We were on the starting line and I could hear kids screaming "GO Lunch Lady!!" So I did.

I still have a bad knee to prove it. But that's okay, I have another knee that is just fine. A year or two ago I was raking clippings out of our shrubbery as my daughter trimmed them with the electric hedger. I slung the rake over the hedge the wrong way and my shoulder literally audibly popped so loud even my daughter heard it. It hurt so bad it made me immediately nauseous. It still goes in and out and makes me wince when it does, sometimes making me want to scream. Kudos for me though, I still have another perfectly good shoulder and is located on the other side of my body from my bad knee so I'm basically batting .500 at the tender age of fifty fifteen.

It's all about perspective at this point. At least that's my take. 

We only have one dog now after losing my precious Ziggy last year but my brother still has two. I am the official Mon-Fri dog watcher for both houses, all three hounds, and couldn't have or want a better job. I scooter (my brother bought me the scooter for Christmas last year and love it) from our house to his at least a couple of times a day to let his dogs out and spend most of my day in our yards with our pup. I highly suggest hanging around dogs more than humans.

Love is a four legged word...that's for sure.

This little 55 lb. girl has us all wrapped around her front paw, which looks like black velvet but can rip my old lady skin back or up with one glance.  I've used more band aids since I turned sixty than I have my entire life.  My brother has two dobermans so that's even more hazardous to my old lady skin. Luckily they are older and not the clown that our boxer is. She's one hot mess.

My brother adopted a Dobie a couple of years ago that was an escaper. I don't know why she tried to escape, he treats his dogs better than I treat my own kids. If I was one of his dogs I would be attached to his hip. Post Note: she has since done exactly that.

But before that she was horrible.  She would wiggle, dig under around or between any compromise in the fence. Granted it was an older fence but we were all worried she would get hit by a car. He finally paid well over ten grand to have a new fence installed all around his house and property.

While the fence was being installed I had to walk both Dobies on a leash. His older girl, Robin wouldn't leave the yard if the gate was left wide open and you called to her from the street. She knew which side of the fence was buttered.

Not Shelby. I was walking her one day in the yard with a leash on so she couldn't escape when one of our neighbors had the audacity to walk their own dog by my brother's house...on a leash none the less.

Shelby went ape sh*t crazy and ran circles around me (I had her on an extendable leash) essentially hog tying me and dragging me by my ankles up the gravel driveway. My neighbor looked horrified and asked if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up and was glad we had more than that ten foot buffer because I was bleeding like a stuck pig. I still have scars on my ankles.

The next time the ole heifer got me was when I once again had her on the leash about a week later while the fence was still being installed. I was by some pine trees and a squirrel darted up one by us. Shelby took off around the tree, dragging my arm holding the leash with her. Raked back about a three inch slice of skin off my forearm and had to pick pine bark out of the cut before I washed it in my brothers sink, pushed my skin back the right way and wrapped my arm in paper towels before I could even begin to search my brother's house  for bandages.

Shelby was a lot, but has turned out to be a perfect dog. Just took her a year or so and over ten thousand dollars worth of new fencing.

I can say I never ever took her out on a long extendable leash again. Four feet was all Smalls/Shelby got after that.

She's turned out to be a love bug and my brother has since adopted another Dobie after his other girl Robin passed away.

Now he has Shelby and Warlock. Warlock is a blue doberman. Absolutely stunning pup.

This is what a blue Dobie looks like:

Warlock (sorry I don't have a pic of him) has the floppy ears like the one on the left and the exact some coloring. I have never seen a dog more happy and complacent to be rescued and loved. Nothing bothers this dog, except squirrels and birds. He also knows what side of the fence is buttered and has no desire to leave or get out of the yard. He runs the fence line with his head up high, looking for birds and squirrels in the trees. How he doesn't have a massive crick in his neck is a mystery to me. He is obsessed and relentless. Luckily the squirrels and birds have (so far) been quicker. I'm hoping I am not on duty the day he finds a slow one. Dobermans aren't quitters by any stretch of the canine imagination. 

I suppose where all this written drivel is leading is that I am still a pretty lucky person, regardless of how I think (know) I look or sometimes feel. At least I'm still kicking...granted not too high (don't want to pull a hamstring) and will never be a Rockette or in  Riverdance but at least I can get out of bed every day, go about my business and not feel pressured to do something I don't want to do or clock in at a job and have to follow rules and guidelines while other coworkers skirt them on the daily. 

Trust me, we all worked with that person. Every job has one. (or two or three)

So I'm going out on a limb here and saying I've done okay in life. I have been blessed, beyond blessed and then some. 

I haven't changed the world by any means but feel that I have made a (probably insignificant but well meaning) positive difference at best. 

That's all I have ever wanted to do or be. A good person.

Have I failed at times? Absolutely. Who hasn't?

With the new year rapidly approaching my mind is spinning. This latest election in the USA has proven (once again) that politics are not topics to be discussed or expressed anywhere except behind the (now proverbial) curtain in a polling booth. Our parents called that one right. I wish we would have listened.

It's turned into a flat out hate fest. It turned into a mudslinging of misinformation and the only ones benefiting are the puppeteers pulling political strings with their deep pockets and more often than not taking our hard earned money and using it for their own agenda and profit. And I am absolutely talking about both sides of the swamp. It's called a swamp for a reason, there is an extremely muddy and mucked up bank on either side and all around it.

Let's dial it back (especially on social media) to keeping political opinions to ourselves. Has that been hard for me? Extremely. I am not a fan of our newly elected president, but it is what it is. He won.

We shall see what we shall see.

Don't cry over spilled milk. Just be careful next time you pour a glass.

 Till next time...COTTON

Talk About A Gut Punch

 

I am stunned. I am in disbelief. We elected a  thirty four time convicted felon for our president. Someone please tell me how that makes sense, especially considering he was also found guilty of sexual assault with a huge financial verdict awarded?

I am walking around in a daze, if I get out of bed at all. You may think I'm kidding but that first morning after the election I was literally sick to my stomach. The things I've seen and heard him say (on a live feed) boggles my mind. I haven't cooked nor offered to. I just sit and stare off into space wondering how we got here. The rest of my family all know I am in a huge, huge funk but also know how I wear my heart on my sleeve and how committed I am to my principals and beliefs.

Of course he'll tell people anything! He's always been that way, but trust me he has "The Donald's" best and only interest at heart. Every. Time.

It is what it is. There is nothing I can do about it now.

My worst fear is that he will get sworn into office and pardon not only all the rioters from Jan.6  but somehow finagle and pardon himself from his own 34 count felony convictions. Not thirty four charges, thirty four convictions.

Where's the justice in that? 

And let's talk about Elon Musk (richest man in America) who also owns the mega huge social network X buying himself a president for the paltry sum of $100,000,000.  Not to mention the NRA and all other global giant conglomerates holding us hostage with their inflated prices, while they post record setting earnings.

Who's zooming who? 

It will take me a few days to process all the hate Trump has brought to this country's table and spewed amongst the  forefront of our society not to mention the political arena. He's made bullying and making fun of people an okay thing to do...and his followers/haters jumped right on board and even offered to drive the train and blow the horn, while waving the Rebel/ Trump flags while crashing through the windows of the nation's capitol like a barbaric mob and storming down the halls.

For my own sanity I have decided to disengage myself from Facebook. I would delete the app totally if not for local and neighborhood pages who post lost pets and available rescues. Recipes and garden tips I can find on my own.

Sanity will take some work.

A lot of the  people I grew up with and even some of the people I've met since, just don't share the same views that I do.

Number one: Immigration?

Hello...we are all immigrants unless we are of Native American descent. And yes this is a great country  (although has been historically proven we stole and raped them and their land) but if I was living in squalor with my children in Mexico or Venezuela, Ukraine, Gaza etc... and wanted to give them a better chance at a better life, you bet your bippy I would find some razor wire to throw a jacket or blanket over and simply just get them to the other side of the border for the chance at a decent and better life. When you have small babies and children you don't have years and years to wait for official documents or documentation, not when their life is on the line along with your own.

Love your neighbor.

Go ahead and get rid of and ship back all migrant workers and see how much of our food gets picked and harvested for pennies on the dollar. I bet Americans will be lining up for those jobs like it's a Taylor Swift concert. (extreme sarcasm intended)

And women's rights to medical access and care? 

There isn't one single male president, governor or politician on this earth who should have any (and let me repeat that) ANY  opinion, input or authority to legislate what a female does with her own body.

At least not until they legislate what a male can or cannot do with his ding dong. (just trying to keep it light although is a heavy subject on my heart)

And who cares who someone else wants to love? Since when is that a crime (or any of your business)?

We are worrying about the wrong things, we are electing the wrong people and we are letting big politics and even bigger business and gigantic conglomerates rule us, and laugh behind our backs as they hold us hostage all the way to the bank. Us having to withdraw our money to simply survive while they deposit billions into their own accounts and reap record profits.

I'm no brain surgeon but it seems pretty simple to me.

Love and let Love. 

And my last gripe of the day is this whole Daylight Savings.

My candidate lost, my immediate concerns and values are on the line. I am worried for my own daughter and grand daughter's future...and then you wanna make it start to get dark at four thirty in the afternoon?

I'm thinking this is maybe a ploy by therapists, psychologists and even psychiatrists to make me want and make an appointment...  because I'm feeling like I need to talk to someone...and although my dog is a good listener, it bothers me when I get to a crucial part in my rant and she's just licking her cooter like it's hers to claim.

 

Till next time...COTTON

  

Old School Meets New School

 I started waiting tables after college at Red Lobster in 1980. We were called waitresses then and wore poorly polished white shoes from the cheapest store we could find. And don't even get me started on that blue polyester sailor suit dress. But it was a good start and training was actually pretty rigorous. Over my forty plus year career I worked for nine different places, always advancing for the better. Red Lobster, Steak & Ale, WD Crowley's Scotch House, U Zoo (not my finest moment), Johnny's, LongHorn, Mama Lucia's, Ecco and finally Chroma.

I was so bummed out today about the election results. A convicted felon as president? It just made no sense to me. My daughter got home from work early, around one thirty and rescued me from my dazed and confused state of depression. 

We got in the car and drove to our favorite Mexican place and ordered two big margaritas. We had appetizers and ate a meal, all the while being served by one of the sweetest, most attentive and engaging servers I've had in quite some time. Shout out to Valerie!! You earned every penny of your handsome tip. I left wishing I had left you even more.

She was the epitome of a good server. Engaging, well groomed, knowledgeable and present whenever needed, sometimes even before. We made a comment while chatting that made her ask if we worked in the service industry. (she's a sharp cookie)

We hijacked her while it was slow in the restaurant and traded war stories. Many of the same complaints and many of the same circumstances and concerns.

Service industry folk are a dysfunctional dynamic of work family and can be at each others throat one minute and have that same person's back five minutes later. Serving is a Love/Hate job. You either make the job your own, a profession, and control it to work out to your benefit or come in every shift hating your job which will always be reflected in your tips (aka) salary.

My last forty hour serving job netted me around $70k and came with full benefits. I was one lucky waitress. I worked hard for it. I showed up every day on time if not early. My uniform and apron were always clean and pressed and my personal appearance was clean, neat and professional. If you want to make big bucks, dress and act like you deserve them.

I remember other servers I worked with through the decades who constantly complained about how little they were making on any given shift. My thought process was the opposite. If I wasn't making good money, I needed to be a better server.

I always knew every special or menu item . I knew how everything was prepared or where it came from. I knew the ingredients and I knew the wines or liqueurs to suggest to go with them. 

I knew when they needed that extra cup of ice or that drink or water refill. I knew when they needed more napkins, condiments or a box to go. I knew to keep the table neat and clean and the conversation flowing, unless they weren't big talkers. Then I would silently take care of their every need or want without them ever having to ask for either. It's a psychological job, being a server. It's a study of the masses.

People go out to eat, sometimes (especially these days) dreading the amount money they are about to drop, then an excellent server will come to your table and give such good service that they leave looking forward to the next visit and most probably will ask for you.

It's a win/win.

It's a great profession if you commit to getting it right and always go the extra mile without having to be asked.

Today we had that server. Valerie. 

It was a tough day for me. It was a tough day for millions of others. After having such a pleasant experience with our server though, it uplifted my spirits, which in turn uplifted her gratuity.

We will call every time we want to go there now just to make sure she is working. If she isn't we'll go another time when she is.

Four years isn't a lifetime but can be. You simply never know. Your next breath could be your last.

I'm hoping democracy and checks and balances prevail and we'll get through this time with fewer scrapes and bumps than I'm thinking we will have to experience.

You simply never know...do you?

Till next time...COTTON

Opinions Don't Count Or Matter Unless You Vote

 

I am so ready for the election to be over. Social media, especially during this current election has turned into a place where unfortunately a tremendous amount of people seem to go to for information and believe it as fact when more often than not... it is not. 

I thought the country was the most divided when we elected our first (clutching  my pearls) black man as president. Not to mention the hoopla about his birth certificate. Ridiculous, unfounded and totally debunked. But I was wrong.

Here's my take, for what it's worth. (as my momma would say, "probably amounts to a hill of beans")

It doesn't matter who you vote for...it matters that you vote. Every time.

If each and every single person able to register did so, and went to cast their ballot every single time, we would see amazing changes in this country. And trust me, it would be good for all of us.

Don't worry about big wig politicians and their voices, very rarely are they actually about our best interests, and more often than not guided by an agenda of very deep pockets who couldn't care less about us, the little guy.

In these days and times we seem to be simply left with choosing the lesser of evils...and my choice was made and ballot cast with no regrets from me. Not one.

I am a woman. I have three children who I love dearly. They didn't choose me but I certainly chose them.

No government is going to nor should be able to tell me what to do with my body.

Julia Louis Dreyfus said it best in the HBO show, Veep.

"If a man could get pregnant you'd be able to get an abortion at an ATM."

Funny line in a make believe show but a spot on observation.

No man, any politician or judge should have any say in the hardest decision a woman has to make about her own body. Until they start legislating what a man can do with his ding dong, leave my cooter out of it.

Enough said.

OMG then there's this issue. We are the immigrants, every single one of us except for Native Americans.

Trust me most of the people trying to bust through our borders are as desperate as we were when we landed here and (unlawfully) claimed this country as our own.

Let's call a spade a spade...absolutely no pun intended. Although we did import Africans as slaves to help us do back breaking work here in our newly acquired country stolen from the people already living here, not to mention we didn't even consider them full humans and wanted to kill every Indian we came across.

Not a good look.

I'm not talking social media bunk or misinformative Insta or TikTok posts. I am simply stating facts. Real ones.

When you (hopefully) go into that polling booth on Tuesday, you need to keep this all in mind.

The rest is all somewhat solvable. History is not.

Remember the past and vote for the future.

Till next time, COTTON

A Blog That Could Change The World

 I won't have to do much typing on this post.

This may be the most incredible video you'll ever take the time to view and explains 99.9% of this worlds' problem.

Come together...right now, over Me.

I can't express how important it is to cast your ballot. Every time. We can be better than this.

Till next time, COTTON

Saving Grace How Sweet The Sound

 

I am so old school, behind the times, out of the loop and still think of the nineteen seventies as being twenty years ago. And this isn't much of a stretch by any means. Just ask my husband and three kids (aka) professional eye rollers.

I've had to consciously wean myself off my iPad and smart(is it really)iPhone. I do totally ignore my phone when driving. If it's an emergency they will call me ten times in a row and then I will pull over and answer. One call or text can wait in my driving manual. I also hate driving in the rain, at night or in heavy traffic, or somewhere I'm not used to driving.

In other words I want to be a Driven Miss Daisy, and kinda feel like I at least deserve that by this point in life.

I don't think that's too much to ask. Do you? 

Trust me, I know some Karens who would demand a whole lot more at my retired age of almost sixty five.

I first came across Jelly Roll after seeing a TikTok video of a middle school kid playing guitar and singing his song (Save Me) for a talent show at his school. When the entire gymnasium began to sing along with him it literally gave me chills. All these kids, sixth, seventh and eighth graders knew every word to this song and it was a telling sign to me. 

Our kids today, and by that I mean even ones in their 20's 30's sometimes need help, validation and encouragement. It can be one thing or maybe even one song that flips the switch to make a difference. That thing which makes you know you can be better and more importantly makes you feel like you want to be better, and aren't alone in your journey or battle.

My goodness but did I stumble as a young adult in my twenties. Nothing too radical and consider myself extremely lucky, but had many friends who weren't as fortunate. Some I physically lost, some rebounded and some even bounced way ahead of me and left me in the dust...but good for them!!

Life isn't as simple as it was when I grew up in the sixties and seventies. Sure we had our problems. Segregation and the Vietnam war to name just two, both discussed in hushed tones and in private. I don't remember hearing about a lot of hard drug abuse, at least not in our small community located just fifteen minutes from the center of downtown Atlanta.

 I can remember on Friday nights our parents would take us to eat at the Varsity for dinner. Huge deal for us as kids...and still a huge deal for me every time I pass through the ATL. After dinner sometimes he would drive us up Peachtree Street to look at the hippies sitting on the walls and along the curbs lining 14th Street. It was mesmerizing, fascinating and spooky all at the same time. It was just so out of context for me as a kid, growing up in a city which was a cross between Mayberry and Mayfield. Opie and Beaver...what a great combination for a most joyful upbringing. Then he would cruise back up Peachtree and stop by the Planter's Peanut Shop to get us a huge bag of warm roasted peanuts. He would jump out of the station wagon, my mother would scoot over and drive it around the block while he went inside to buy them and by the time she made to loop he was standing curbside with our big yummy warm bag of roasted peanuts. The smell was borderline heavenly, and yes they had a huge Mr. Peanut outside the shop wearing his trademark monocle.

That was about as crazy as my life got growing up.

I can't even begin to imagine the pressures kids today are growing up with and amongst. Social networking and the cyber world in general are, and often have been, death for many a bullied or tortured tween or teen. I can tell you with full confidence that it would have cut me to my soul when I was in high school. I didn't date a lot, I was never asked to prom or went to one. It stung a little more because my older sister was like the bomb dot com in high school, before that term ever came about. A majorette, voted Valentine Queen, Homecoming Queen, dated the star quarterback who also happened to be a Golden Gloves boxing champion by the age of seventeen and there I was in my bedroom listening to the Tapestry album by Carole King and  (ironically) At Seventeen by Janis Ian.

My mother died very suddenly (less than 30 seconds) a couple of weeks after my seventeenth birthday. Two weeks before my senior year of high school started. It wasn't like I was a nobody. I was the Varsity cheerleading captain, in hindsight probably because no one else wanted it, but at least I had an embroidered CAPTAIN patch on the upper arm of my cheerleading sweater and jacket. This was 1977, which by todays standard means I never went viral or had  thousands of followers...but at least I wasn't made fun of. (that I ever knew about) That was the barometer we cruelly used when I went to high school.

I was a bully in high school without realizing it. If someone wasn't 'popular' ...voted onto Valentine Court or Homecoming Court, or an amazing jock or an absolute beauty, we would make fun of them. I am ashamed of the person I was then. 

The craziest thing is that I mainly did it to make really popular people laugh, making me think I was one of them...'the beautiful people' therefore clinging onto them by making them laugh at me making fun of the people we both laughed at. 

Is that effed up or what?

While I have (almost) finally reached peace with myself after fifty years of trying to pay it forward, pay it back and just be there if someone needs something  I can possibly help with, it still doesn't feel like enough.

Kids today have it a thousand times worse with all the cyber junk out there, social media and instant posting of literally every single thing they do every single second within the proximity of any celluar device.

Talk about spooky.

Between my own three kids, I bet they had no less than ten casualties of classmates, friends or acquaintances while in high school or shortly after. That's a whole lotta funerals for a teen ager to have to attend and a whole lot of broken hearted parents and relatives. And my youngest graduated high school in 2013 so no telling what the statistics are now.

I do feel a beginning shift. I feel like we are bringing more attention to mental health and hopefully removing the stigma of "Mental Illness" as a death sentence or something to be ashamed of.

This video of this middle school kid...my very first inkling of even hearing about Jelly Roll, touched me.

How awesome is this kid and how many people may he have helped get through their day who felt lost and unheard?

Kudos to Jelly Roll for reaching out to this young man after he saw this video. It takes a village.

And yes, Gage Jude won the talent show at his middle school.

Be a part of your own village or someone's that needs help too.

Till next time...COTTON 

Happy BOOlebration

 When I was a kid, Halloween was always great fun but was a one day deal. (well two, because you had to eat all that left over candy the very next day before your siblings took it) But no more, no less. It was a two day sugar fest. Of course as a kid you looked forward to it for weeks, had that costume your mom bought you at the local A&P on grocery day, made of flammable material with a hard plastic mask held on by a stretchy string going around the back of your head and basically suffocating you throughout your journey around the neighborhood. 

Talk about a good time. (adult sarcasm) 

By the time you got to the first house you were already huffing and puffing behind the mask, snot running down your nose because it was hard to breathe through two punched out holes the size of  lady bugs and eye holes on a mask that didn't line up with the ones on your actual face and were even harder to see out of. 

Once again, fun times. (total eye roll and chuckle from me at the age of sixty four) But boy oh boy did we love it. 

The past two years we have volunteered to help with the neighborhood Halloween party. My kids are too old to Trick or Treat but don't mind helping make it fun for the kids still roaming our streets and living in  our hood.

Throw a neighborhood party at the park in our neck of the palms and almost everybody shows up. Halloween, Christmas, Chili Cook Off in January, Easter Egg hunt,  Memorial Day, fishing tournament for Father's Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day....rinse and repeat.

Not a bad place to live.

Oh we rocked it this year. When putting all the empty tubs back into the storage shed at the park after getting all the decorations out, we came across a ghoul about twelve feet long. Battered, obviously at least a decade old and kinda not in the best of shape. I told my daughter to take it to the front of the park entrance and hang it up high enough where you couldn't see how beat up it was but would be great to see from afar.

She came back from the entrance less than five minutes later and suggested running it up the flag pole by the lake. 

Talk about perfect!

It was nice to see so many happy, fun loving kids...just being kids and all getting along.

All monitored by adults but given the reign to just be kids.

These are unfortunately divisive and tumultuous times in our world, our country and even our own communities.

 I know our views don't always align with a majority of the neighbors we live around but we strive to be good stewards, neighbors and friends you can rely on. And on the flip side, they have never let us down. Not once.

I think this country could learn a lot from the people living here in our little hidden hamlet, inside a nature preserve, scrambling to keep it out of the hands of bulldozers and deep pockets of developers.

As John and Paul put it (Beatles not Apostles)

"COME TOGETHER, RIGHT NOW...OVER ME"

Think about it.

Politicians are not our friends. Ballots are.

We Need To Go Back To Old School

 

And yes I still have one of these desks. Complete with the pencil/or pen holder carved into the top of the desk and the hole on the side for an ink well. One desk butted up to the next. Your desk provided the seat fold down in front for the next student who sat behind someone else. I'm not sure where my mother got the desks, but at one point me and both my sibs had one as a night stand in our childhood bedroom.

Those big iron legs, which kind of remind me of the legs on the old sewing machines you pumped with your feet. Our neighbor had one when we were growing up.

It's like this. It may be 2024, almost 2025, but I was born in 1960 and my memories of those times are a lot more cheerful and a whole lot simpler.

People NEVER discussed or talked politics, or religion back then. They only expressed their political opinions behind the polling curtain...and yes they used to have a curtain to pull shut behind you.

We're down to crunch time, and thank goodness we are. I can't take much more of this insanity. What used to be political issues turned into moral issues for me, and it was all downhill from there.  Yes all politicians have an agenda. What do you expect with all the millions put into their war chest from the upper class Billionaire conglomerates who control everything from banking to groceries to technology and oil? They are literally holding this country hostage while they laugh all the way to the bank. And I mean Democrats as well as Republicans. It's a swamp, it is wide and it is what is dividing this nation.

What is wrong with us now? 

When I was a kid growing up in the 1960's, families, friends and acquaintances from both sides of the aisle all got along and politics were never ever an issue, nor was it ever brought up in conversation.

I also grew up during the civil rights movement, into and through the Vietnam war and in the seventies a  whole lot of Watergate, a massive energy crisis and eventually a hostage crisis. All of that going on but we all seemed to still get along and no fingers were pointed or accusations made at each other. I will say that's when politics got snarky. Then they bashed Jimmy Carter. Really? Did they hate him because he was a peanut farmer or because he was a Christian?

Where did our camaraderie as a nation go and why did it leave?

I have my own thoughts about that, we all do, but take a moment before you make or share that post. Vet those facts. Do some due diligence, research, I hate to say fact check because the minions have made it an eye rolling word in my book but be intelligent, be educated and be aware of social media and all the fake crap it puts out as truth.

It's not necessarily true if it's posted or shared on Facebook, and more importantly...most probably isn't.

Don't be a part of the problem. Let's seek a solution together.

Till next time...COTTON

Determination Personified...That's My Girl

 

My daughter has always been a force to be reckoned with, ever since she busted her way out of my stomach and into this world at barely four pounds and almost two months early.

She was a living doll. She didn't say ten words her first few years, but once she found her voice has used it for the greater good and doesn't mind turning the volume up when needed or necessary. 

She's a huge believer in equality and inclusiveness. She doesn't have a mean bone in her body and her heart is bigger than big, almost to the point of exploding. She spends more of her money on other people than she does on herself... on a regular basis, and is always without strings or expectations.

                                   Simply said, Massey's a good person with a heart of gold.

I'm not sure there wasn't a baby swap at birth, although I was knocked out when they sliced my stomach open and took the little booger out of me but she's a keeper and hopefully we've reached the statute of limitations if there were a mistake. 

I have drilled into all my kids' heads since they were little the importance of voting. Every.Single.Time.

It's the only way (in my humble opinion) to change things. It's the only way to get absolutely anything done. Deep pockets and the greedy one percent of this country/corporation and conglomerates have held us hostage for too long...while they all laugh at us all the way to the bank.

I don't care what party you are affiliated with (kinda a stretch at this particular point) but if every SINGLE REGISTERED VOTER voted every single time, can you even imagine how it could change our course? And what about how many people who are eligible to vote but don't register to do so?

We, as a nation have to be smarter than this and smarter than them.

I applaud Massey for her efforts. It wasn't easy, it took a couple of dedicated weeks and literally hours and hours and hours of her time. Of course my friends kicked in to help her when she realized how much postage for 600 postcards would take. It was a lot. Not kidding.

I don't care who you are voting for (well I do care but is also absolutely none of my business) but above all importance is the actual casting of a ballot. How can you not choose or care about casting a vote if you are eligible to do so? 

It's literally the foundation of our country.

Kudos to you, Massey Cotton. This world is so much better with you in it. You make me proud every day.

You were so tiny back then. I never expected how huge of an impact you would make. Rock on Sis!!

 

The Calm After The Storm

 

Once again we dodged the ole hurricane bullet. We know it won't be that way every single time but will take and be grateful for all the misses we can. People always say how they would never live here because of hurricanes. At least with canes you have days if not weeks to prepare. Tornadoes and earthquakes just blindside you with no notice whatsoever.

On the upside, living here the rest of the time is a complete weather pleasure. Granted you have a few chilly days scattered in during January but by February spring is poking its head again. After almost eight years of living here I've learned my favorite season is anytime.

We are far enough inland to feel basically safe(r) from a hurricane storm surge although we also realize that we can still have significant to devastating damage. Potato/Potahtoe.

Bad things can happen anywhere, at any time, to anyone.

That is why you need to live where you feel happy. We were happy in Georgia for decades and decades. Then the opportunity came up for Tim to transfer here with a pretty big promotion so he took it. He lived here for well over a year before we followed him down. My brother graciously let Tim live at his house, probably the longest year of his bachelor life, but we were/are grateful for his  hospitality.

I enjoy the warmer weather. We still have a touch of autumn and a whisking of winter but most of the time it's flip flops and shorts.

My favorite uniform.

I'm not even sure why I still have a sock drawer. I could get by with a four pack of footies and a pair of tube socks just in case. Instead I have a huge drawer stuffed with so many socks I could put on a sock puppet Woodstock, including the attending crowd of socks.

Tomorrow I am purging that drawer, boxing up the probably fifty pair of random socks and mailing them to a non profit in a much colder climate. I'm including the many heavy sweaters and a whole bunch of jeans that I just store under a window cabinet in my bedroom. Why in the world do I need ten pair of Levi's? Levi shorts, maybe...but long pants? No.

I did give away or donate most of my winter coats after moving here. Seemed silly to hang onto them after a year or so of living here.

And the comforters and sheets to beds we no longer have? Why am I hoarding old blankets and comforters? 

Maybe I'm the reason for poverty in third world countries. (kidding but not kidding)

All good questions.

Some comments are meant to be lighthearted or in jest, but still...why am I hanging on to all these things? Especially when they could be made useful and make a difference to someone else.

I'll be honest. I think we're all tired of cleaning up after Helene and Milton. They must have been one miserable married couple to wreak the havoc they did on the east coast...and up into the mountains. 

Weather, good and bad is everywhere. You can't run from Mother Nature, she'll always beat you. Every time.

I'm getting a pile together tomorrow...a big pile.

 I'll keep my most sentimental and favorite hoodies, of course my Harley jacket and about two days worth of cold outfits. That's usually the length of a cold snap here, so the rest is only taking up space instead of helping someone else who needs it.

I still have clothes I wore when I first met Tim in the late eighties. I even have the pajamas my Diddy wore when he was wheeled into the hospital in 2002 with West Nile Virus. I still have the wedding dress my mother wore when she married our Diddy in the early 1950's. It's in a garbage bag in my garage, in horrific condition but wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. 

I have so many towels, clothes, blankets, sheets, comforters, kitchen gadgets and random small appliances that I could go on the old "Let's Make a Deal" and totally get on stage.

I feel a bit ashamed that I haven't thought of this yet...but I've thought of it now.

Freeing up my junk space, which is awesome but also providing someone else an even better space.

Being a good person. 

That's all it takes...and doesn't cost one red cent.

Til next time...COTTON

 

Effin Milton

 

This was posted before the first (majorish) hurricane after moving here to Orlando. It still makes me laugh, but still makes me mad she's a free woman.

Here we are again, years and storms down the road. This one is named Milton and is currently packing 180 mph  winds as a Cat 5.

Yowza.

Here's the thing with hurricanes. It's either going to blow you off the map or blow on by like an annoying neighbor who's been knocking on your door for days like Gladys Kravitz.

We've been through both, although we have been very lucky thus far. I've heard from friends and neighbors we've met here that Charley was a monster and parts of Orlando were out of power for an entire month. Are you kidding me?? I would have already  moved to another state by the end of week one. Of course we have learned a lot since then. Our first hurricane we stocked up on tons of food that went bad in our freezer and refrigerator after four days without power...with no ice to be found within a fifty mile radius. 

I feel like we are true,  thinking Floridians now. We bought a nice size generator and a propane tank about the size of a smart car to fuel it. We live on a well so if the power goes out, no water. Total bummer. 

Now we can bypass just the hot water heater and A/C and everything else will work as usual. If we need hot water we can bypass another breaker and heat the hot water tank, then switch back. As far as the A/C our house was built in 1967...when rooms had multiple windows and cross ventilation. We have five windows in our bedroom alone, a lanai off our living room with french doors opening up to it and four huge windows in our kitchen, Massey has a small screened in porch off her bedroom...not to mention we have ceiling fans in every room. Unless an anomaly of a storm (jinx don't speak a word) occurs we'll be okay. Our biggest concern is that it has rained and rained and rained here for the past month or so. Our yards are beyond soaked, and so are the tree roots. 

Not a good scenario, but what are you gonna do?

We were in the Keys (arrived early this past Saturday) for our annual vacation when forecasters determined we were in deep dodo back in Orlando when Milton finally made landfall late this Wednesday near Tampa. Already a Cat 5 and headed our way next. 

We spent all day Saturday on the dock and Sunday as well before deciding even though the Keys were out of the warning area, our homes and dogs back in Orlando weren't. So we loaded everything back up into our vehicles and left early Monday morning way before daylight even thought about poking its head out.

The good news is we came home with our suitcases full of clean unworn clothes and a weeks worth of groceries, drinks and staples.

We spent the day getting our ducks in a row, resting from no sleep and making a game plan for tomorrow.

I have almost as much furniture in my yards, front and back and under my pergola as I do inside my house. That's where I spend the majority of my time so I like to have all options open. A hammock you say? Got one!  A chair under an umbrella covered six seater table to sit and eat? Come on out and have a plate of food!  A pergola? Do you want to sit in the rocker or the glider?

Adirondack chairs with foot stools under three beautiful trumpets trees above you and a bird bath behind you which is regularly visited by cardinals, thrashers, blue jays, wood peckers...  hummingbird feeders busy, squirrel feeders and  suets almost being fought over and generally a most pleasant experience for a sixty four year old woman to spend her retirement? I'm your girl!

We're shoving everything into the utility shed at the back of our property tomorrow, including the glass/tile patio table with the umbrella and six chairs.

Milton may be bad. May not be bad...but at least we're home to make sure we can do everything in our power to take care of everything we call and know as HOME.

Helene taught us a lesson which should always be remembered. Mother Nature always wins.

Hunkering down with our dogs, hopefully plenty of supplies, preparations galore and  a lot of hope.

Til next time...COTTON

Trying To Reason With A Hurricane

 

The above photo was our first big hurricane experience after moving here in 2016. We were still living in the sardine can rental with three big dogs who had decided they didn't like each other anymore, any of the time. We woke up to no fence and three big dogs we had to walk separately multiple times a day. Talk about fun!

We stocked up on all the wrong kind of food. The power was out for almost four days and bags of ice to purchase became non existent on day one. We had to toss so much lunch meat, ground beef and chicken. What was I thinking? Obviously I wasn't or I would have concentrated on battery operated fans, peanut butter, chips, and baby wipes. We lived and learned quick with Irma. Luckily our landlord had his peeps come over and put the fence back up on day two. It still wasn't fun and was hotter than an F bomb. I would go sit in our car in the driveway just to get cool with the A/C and charge my phone. I would have slept there but gas stations were running out of fuel too.

There was a senior living facility across the street from us who had these huge generators, humming loudly enough to remind me that I was melting while older peeps still had A/C and oxygen. I told Tim on day two I was going to walk across the street and sign myself in.

I was close to not kidding.

We've only had a couple of hurricanes since then which have messed with us in any kind of significant way.

You learn quick about hurricane prep down here, and you learn even quicker who your friends are.

Our neighborhood is an eclectic one. Some living here are the beginning of third generation families. We are also sprinkled with new move ins, transplants from other cities and states, and even countries.

We're a melting pot of society huddled in a small slice of paradise, surrounded on all sides by a lake, a state park, a marsh preserve and a nature preserve. A hard thing to find these days in Orlando.

Most of our community, or at least the most vocal part, are pretty much straight up Trump fans who would never vote Democrat or Independent in a million years.  (if they lived that long)

That's their right and more power to them but dang...why do some of them have to be so "in your face" with it?! 

Number one I have voted across party lines my entire life since turning eighteen in 1978. Do my ideals lean more left than right? Absolutely, but never do I just vote a straight ticket ballot. And number two, it's nobody's business who I support or vote for. That's the way it was when I was little and that's the way it should be now. Political choices should only be expressed behind the proverbial voting curtain...which was an actual curtain when I was young. Even my own parents refused to tell us three siblings who they voted for, every election, every time. Politics and religion simply weren't up for discussion when I was a kid or even a young adult.

That's the way it should still be, but after the 2020 election, politics turned into a mud slinging, name calling, bullying slander fest with absolute nonsense and hate filled venom. And if I'm being honest, one person is guilty of inciting it the most and seems to revel in it more than anyone, which is extremely disturbing to me.

Talk about a hurricane of epic size and devastation for the entire nation?!! We're better than this and now is the time to come together and work together to leave this country a better place for my children and grandchildren...and their children.

Anyhoo...enough of that. I need to practice what I preach, and by the way, so do all politicians.

So on a much (hopefully) lighter note, we are leaving for vacation early this Saturday morning. And by early I mean pulling out of the driveway at four AM. For the past several few years we spend the second week of October in the Keys. We rent the same place every year. It's in the lower Keys about twenty minutes from Key West. Close enough to the wonderful craziness of all that is Key West but far enough from it to be a private, hidden gem with every amenity you could want. A literal one minute walk to the end of the dock from the house. Not one red light. A couple of really great local restaurants, shops and fresh seafood markets.

So Helene (hurricane that is) kinda of got us nervous but skirted right on by us, wreaking absolute havoc after she left Orlando. The devastation is mind boggling. How many people do you think who live in Asheville, North Carolina even think about or consider hurricane preparedness? Not to mention north Georgia, Tennessee and everywhere else her nasty self visited or sat over.

Maw Naytch don't play... by any rules but her own, and always gets her way.

So we're forging ahead with our plans. Granted there is a tropical depression brewing but at worst is predicted to be nothing like Helene and only has a 40% chance of developing and heading to the Keys.

If it's just a minor wind event (as predicted) so what? It's supposed to rain here in Orlando every day next week, like it has for the past month. It's never been this rainy for so long since our moving here. Mildew and skeeters everywhere...we have a lot of outdoor space and areas where we relax, eat and entertain. Great most all the time but not this past month. Thank goodness climate change is a hoax. (NOT)

I told Tim if it was going to rain here all week anyway, I'd much rather be in the Keys, even if it rains there a little. At least we'll be looking at the ocean from under the covered dock or from one of the two covered porches at the house. In my book a rainy day at the beach is better than no day at the beach. Saltwater heals everything.

We have learned after living here for almost eight  (seems crazy, feels like two or three) years that there is nothing you can do about hurricanes. You just learn to live with the possibility and eventuality of them at some point in time. Besides that small window, it's paradise (for me) living here and feels well worth the risk. Hurricanes have a mind and direction of their own and can change it in the matter of a couple of hours...for the better or for the worse.

If need be, with given notice and warning from the proper authorities we can pack up and head out of harms way. If not, we're at the beach and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. 

Praying for sunshine, will accept a little rain but plan on relaxing, laughing, eating, enjoying the view, the company and having an adult beverage or two. We can always snorkel around the dock even if it's raining...we'd be getting wet anyway!

I'm a player. Put me in Coach!

Till next time...COTTON

Ties That Bind

 

As my sixties continue to rapidly creep up on me I am reminded more and more often about the importance of the family and how much they add to not only your life but hopefully theirs as well.

A few months ago, Tim and my brother started tossing around the idea of us going to Miami to see the Braves play the Marlins for a day trip. Miami is less than three hours from here so was totally doable. Then we invited my sister and her Georgia gang. One of her sons and his wife were able to come as well, and we all met up on Sunday a few hours before the game.

We decided to go to a Cuban restaurant for lunch before the game to avoid stadium food...and boy did it work out! My brother led us to a Cuban restaurant someone recommended to him and were MUY impressed.

The Versailles. Open since 1971. Incredible menu, food and spectacular service.

After lunch we all headed to the stadium for the game. We secured parking passes beforehand and the walk to the stadium doors was less than five minutes.

There were as many Braves fans as Marlins fans. Beautiful stadium with the Miami downtown skyline in the back ground through the glass walls. Reminded me of Bobby Dodd stadium with the ATL skyline in the background.

Close game, lots of ups and downs, could have gone either way and often did. In the end Braves came out on top and a good time was had by all! Even if they had lost it was still a win being with family. Great seats, right behind the Braves dugout. Many foul balls came our way, some very close and was just a fun, fun afternoon.

As I grow older sooner than I'd like to, it's times like these that make me smile the most. Both our parents have passed. Our mother in 1977 and our father in 2002. It's just me, my sister and brother left now.

We sometimes squabble about stupid stuff but guarantee you we all three have each others' back. They've both had to have mine more often than not in the past decade (or two) but Tim and I have finally  turned the proverbial financial corner and are blessed beyond belief to be debt free and while not exactly living on easy street are living the life we've always wanted to live. We found our little slice of paradise and were  lucky enough to have it paid off in less than five years and simply enjoying what life we have left and all that life has to offer. Family, as small as it can get sometimes, good neighbors and newly made friends here in Otown make up our world now.  Old friends who have remained constant in our lives and helped us time and time again will always have a special place in our hearts. We are blessed and believe me we know and appreciate it.

This idiot, also known as our brother is the biggest goofball, but biggest speaker of truth and champion for me, my sister and people who live life right, whether it be an employee, friend or acquaintance. He is truly Frank Leach personified.

I have never met anyone who doesn't like my older brother and sister. I wish I could say the same about myself. 

I'm working on it...I'm the youngest so am giving myself a grace period since I'm on social media a lot more than either one of them; but weaning myself off because of the ridiculous political posts during this tumultuous election. 

Never take or believe social media as fact...except for my blog. (lol)

Till next time, COTTON

 

Riley ...Our Love Bug

 

We've never had a dog with arms before, but now we do. She hangs both of them over the side of the chair or sofa like she's listening to a story or better yet some juicy gossip when we're in the room. She definitely pays attention to us. Especially if there is any type of food involved or within sniffing distance. 

Whenever any one of us leaves the house, she settles in on top of the back of the sofa and watches from the living room window. She watches us leave and will stay in that spot for over thirty minutes until she's sure it wasn't just a quick trip to the neighbor's house and we actually left the neighborhood.

 If I'm out in the yards with her and one of the kids leave either walking or on their scooter, she waits by the fence and patiently sits awaiting their return. When they come back ten or fifteen minutes later she goes crazy as if they have been gone for two years.

The girl just makes you feel good...every time you see her. She's a pretty sharp pup as well. We have a motion sensor light under our carport so we are alerted when someone enters our driveway or carport. Massey has it linked to my cell phone since I am the one pretty much always here and a lot of times alone, with everyone still working except me. It makes a slight two note chime to alert outside movement and didn't take long for Riley to figure it out. I can be at the back of our house with her in our bedroom, which is on the total other side of our property, and if the tone goes off, she's off like a rocket to the back of the couch in the front living room to see who's here. Every. Time.  Amazon, FedEx, UPS, USPS or solicitors can't sneak up on us. The girl's a barker, that's for sure.

We've always had dogs, and had three when we first moved to Orlando. 

Ham, Ziggy and Charlie...left to right. This was taken back in Georgia when we first got Ziggy as a pup.

Charlie the English bulldog lived to be thirteen,very long life for his breed. Ham lived to be fourteen, blind since he was just six but was the greatest gentle giant ever. Zachary was closest to Charlie and Ham was Massey's baby. Ziggy was a horrible puppy when we got him, took three years to get him house trained and was constantly jumping the back fence and disappearing for hours at a time. We weren't in a really good position when we got him but he needed a home and we wanted the little stinker. I was working seven days a week and we simply never had time to spend on training him properly...but I loved that Lil Houdini. I called him that because a six foot privacy fence was nothing to him. He found way after way out of that yard, we even rolled hog wire across the back of our property in the woods. You'd let him out and watch him wander the yard. The minute he would head to the back, we'd yank open the kitchen door and yell his name. He'd run straight to the back fence, turn around and look at us and promptly hop the fence like it was a baby gate. Early one morning he was gone for about four hours and I was frantic. This was when Massey was a freshman in college. She happened to call and I told her he was gone. She called me back twenty minutes later and said she had found his picture posted on a Lost and Missing Dogs in Coweta County FB page. This is the picture.

The school nurses at an elementary school almost a mile from our house had him in their office. He was playing with all the kids who were at recess on the playground. We had him neutered the next day, which helped a bit but he ended up having to be left on a run in the back yard when we left him out to do his business. We eventually got a new fence put up across the back and kept him contained and the little escaper turned out to be a really great dog! He was my Baby Boy, and that's what I called him. 

After Charlie, then Ham died, Ziggy lived to be almost twelve. When he was almost eleven we found Riley through a post where someone was trying to get him rescued/ re homed. Ziggy wasn't real crazy about Riley at first, probably because Riley is crazy, but they ended up bonding and Riley was Ziggy's biggest fan (besides me).

When Ziggy died, it broke my heart...literally. I felt a little a distance come between myself and Riley, no fault of Riley's, just my deep love and allegiance to my dear sweet Baby Boy. I probably cried every day for a month if not longer. Riley hadn't been the best puppy since we'd adopted her, accidents in the house, pestering Ziggy and chewing up about five or six remote controls and a $200 headset of Zachary's.

But after Ziggy died, and I mean almost immediately, Riley simply stopped all her bad habits and turned into a perfect house mate. No more accidents and after a few stern finger wags in her face, quit all her bad habits just like that.

Now I call her Baby Girl. She's a delight to be around and you can't help but smile when you see her little face with one wacky eyeball and that long tail swatting back and forth like a fur whip. We've never had a dog with a tail before but hers is full of personality and suits her perfectly.

She's with me every single day, with everyone else working and I have quickly spoiled her rotten. It's hard not to, she's such a little hoot and love bug. I sit at the kitchen table and have lunch every day while everyone's at work and she pops up onto the bench beside me and sits about ten inches from my face. She never tries to eat my food or take anything from my plate but she doesn't miss one crumb which may happen to fall, no matter how minuscule. She's nimble as a cat.  Our kitchen table is an antique butterfly table my mother in law gave me and one of my neighbors built me two picnic benches that I painted and use on either side. Maybe a foot across from the front to the back , but she sits up like a princess and can even step around me from one side to the other when she wants to look out the window when people walk down the street outside. When I sit at our table on the lanai, where I spend most of my day, going in and out of the yards and cool off under the two ceiling fans on the lanai, she scooches in behind me in the chair. She can even manage to curl up and lay down if she wants to.

I can feel her little whiskers on the back of my neck and it always makes me smile. She's got more stray whiskers than a catfish. That, along with her nimbleness got her another pet name from me, "Little Kitty Catfish".  

We've never had a dog who likes to play fetch but we've got one now. Holy Moly. She would chase a ball all day long if we'd keep throwing it. I bought her a soccer ball with straps on it to carry it by and she'll chase it until she's about to have a heart attack and we have to take it away from her just to get her to rest and get some water. And squeak toys? Don't even get me started. We don't let her bring her balls and fetch toys inside because they get dirty and muddy. She knows it, and will promptly drop it onto the pergola if she wants in the house. In the living room we have a basket where we keep all her inside toys. Her monkey, sheep, elephant, monster head, little igloo and a rabbit and fake roll of toilet paper. She's (thankfully) torn the squeaker out of most of them and I have to stitch them up on the weekly after she slings them around like a maniac and will chase and play tug of war with you as long as you comply. Riley's momma didn't raise no quitter, that's for sure. She also knows those toys aren't allowed outside and drops them by the door on her way out the door to the porch and yard. She has unbelievable catching abilities and can jump like a spring and snatch a ball you throw before it even hits the ground.

In other words she is a very entertaining companion. And being alone most every week day, she has quickly become my best friend. I'm not sure who loves who more, but I know she helped my heart heal after Ziggy's sudden death and departure...and she loved Ziggy a lot, just like I did.

There's a reason Dog is God spelled backwards. They are both unconditional and constant love and will always have your back.

You should see her when Tim gets home from work. We're usually out in the yard and she goes nuts the minute he pulls into our driveway. He gets home at five and always feeds her her dinner...it's their thing and I think both of them look forward to it. Tim travels a bit around the state for work every few weeks and sometimes even to Georgia and South Carolina. He said sometimes when he's leaving the office wherever he's working to drive back home he'll say he's ready to get home and see his girl. They all say "oh,you mean your wife?" and Tim will say "no, my dog."

I'm okay with that because I understand the hold this little minx has on all of our hearts. Zachary walks her every single morning  around the block after feeding her and she loves it.  I can hear him talking to her when he leaves for work (calling her sweetheart) and explaining to her that he has to leave but will be back soon and he'll play with her then. And he does. 

Massey has even fallen under her spell and Ham was her baby, so it took a little longer with Riley but she's the one who drove to meet the woman from Tampa who was giving her away so it was bound to happen, just took a minute longer.

I don't know how people can live without a dog in their life, they are the biggest blessing a human can have on their side. They never complain, never ask for anything and always, always love you...no matter what. Love is a four legged word.

She listens to my ramblings, rants and even my horrible singing and never tells me to hush. Rather she tends to act like I'm the biggest deal since dog biscuits were invented.

Could she act a little better at the fence when people simply try and walk by our house? Absolutely, but what are you going to do...she's protecting her turf. She doesn't bark when she is outside the fence on walks, it's just a territory thing. She's finally quit barking at the mailman after over two years of constant harassment, much to his relief I am sure, and is all bark. The garbage truck that picks up our cans with the huge mechanical arm terrifies her and she runs to the back yard to get away from it, begging to get in the back door to the lanai. Construction vehicles freak her out too and we have a lot of them with several houses being built on our street the past year or so. So she's really a chicken and that's okay too. Her only aggression issue is trying to shake the stuffing out of her toys.

In a world full of hateful political unrest and character assassination in a contentious election year, she is calming happiness and makes us smile every time she walks into a room or every time we come home and she her waiting by the door with that long tail wagging behind her like a canine metronome, waving hello to us.

She is everything to us and I'm pretty sure we are everything to her. It's a pretty sweet deal for all involved.

Till next time...COTTON