The Cat — and memories of Puff

via WikiPaintings

I grew up with dogs. Lots of big dogs since one of my parents' hobbies was raising Bullmastiffs and showing them. When Tom and I married we got a couple of dogs as a matter of course.

When our girls were little and cat crazy we gave in and got a cat from the SPCA. I called her Puff from my vague memories of Dick and Jane and Sally and Spot and Puff. I learned to read in those books and fine books they were too.

It was Puff who taught me how to love a cat. She was young and crazy and she enchanted the entire household, including our ChowChow who went from trying to kill cats to playing a game where Puff would dodge out from corners, throw herself under him and play with his feathers (the long fur growing from the back of his legs). After Puff was run over by a car, only several months after we got her, he continued for several weeks to slow down at her favorite "pounce" corners and wait for her attack.

Most of all, Puff loved me. She slept behind my knees, she laid on my shoulder and hit my book, she threw herself at me and shamelessly demanded attention. I was enchanted, like the rest of the household. We had another couple of cats after Puff and I loved them too, though neither was up to Puff on my cat scale of perfection.

All that is a very long way of saying that I understand why Gwen Johns included her cat in so many of her paintings. If I painted, I would too.

Bayeux Tapestry

I'd never even heard of the Bayeux Tapestry when my husband and I went to France after just being married a couple of years. He'd always wanted to see it and couldn't believe I'd never been told about it.

I remember the huge church where it had originally been hung and then the museum next door where you could walk around and view the entire thing. Which we did with a field trip of English school kids who had crossed the Channel to see this part of their heritage. I had no idea that English and French heritage overlapped (yes, I was just a touch ignorant). Or of the beauty of this hand-sewn tribute to the Norman invasion of England.

It was simply amazing.

Here's a wonderful book about it - which I may need to reread. 

This made me look at Wikipedia where you can look at the entire thing in one piece. This is really neat.

Individual scenes may be examined close up at this Wikipedia spot. Also neat.

Around Here: Dickens and the Sandwich

Having revisited Dickens and Boxers yesterday made me remember another thing I love and its connection with Dickens — sandwiches. This is from 5 years ago but well worth revisiting. At least it was for me!

Sandwiches and Dickens

I was reading Barnaby Rudge and was startled by seeing a sandwich mentioned:

He was not without some refreshment during the long lonely hours; generally carrying in his pocket a sandwich of bread and meat, and a small flask of wine.

Now I know sandwiches were invented some time ago but I hadn't come across them in fiction this old, especially as a reflection of casual everyday life. And this book was set around the time of our Revolutionary War so I had 1776 firmly in mind.

Did they eat sandwiches then?

Finishing up Barnaby (not bad, not bad at all), I picked up The Pickwick Papers for a bit of light bedtime humor.

I was stunned to find ... another sandwich in Mr. Jingle's shocking but funny story:

Heads, heads — take care of your heads!... Five children — mother — tall lady, eating sandwiches — forgot the arch — crash — knock — children look round — mother's head off — sandwich in her hand—no mouth to put it in — head of a family off—shocking, shocking!

This made Tom look up the origin date of the sandwich which, of course, no one knows. The famous story about the Earl of Sandwich, all honor to this lazy but tidy card player (bread kept the meat grease off his hands and cards) who invented one of my favorite foods, is placed in the late 1700s.

Of course, sandwiches were around before then but they weren't called sandwiches. They were known as "meat and bread" or "bread and cheese." It is when the name "sandwich" became commonly used that is interesting. And then we have this bit of evidence:

That respectable body, of which I have the honour of being a member, affords every evening a sight truly English. Twenty or thirty, perhaps, of the first men in the kingdom, in point of fashion and fortune, supping at little tables covered with a napkin, in the middle of a coffee-room, upon a bit of cold meat, or a sandwich, and drinking a glass of punch.

Edward Gibbon, journal entry, November 24, 1762

So that's all right then, for Dickens use in Barnaby Rudge. And it turns out that Dickens had his own sandwich memories, though this one doesn't seem happy at all:

A longer time afterwards he recollected the stage-coach journey, and said in one of his published papers that never had he forgotten, through all the intervening years, the smell of the damp straw in which he was packed and forwarded like game, carriage-paid. “There was no other inside passenger, and I consumed my sandwiches in solitude and dreariness, and it rained hard all the way, and I thought life sloppier than I expected to find it.”

Dickens writing of his journey when he was 10
to join his family in their new home,

Life of Charles Dickens by John Foster

I found a few more of Dickens' sandwiches when I was looking around.

Great Expectations: My guardian then took me into his own room, and while he lunched, standing, from a sandwich-box and a pocket flask of sherry (he seemed to bully his very sandwich as he ate it), informed me what arrangements he had made for me.

Bleak House: "My dear son," said Mr. Turveydrop, "you have four schools this afternoon. I would recommend a hasty sandwich."

Mugby Junction: "Well!" said Our Missis, with dilated nostrils. "Take a fresh, crisp, long, crusty penny loaf made of the whitest and best flour. Cut it longwise through the middle. Insert a fair and nicely fitting slice of ham. Tie a smart piece of ribbon round the middle of the whole to bind it together. Add at one end a neat wrapper of clean white paper by which to hold it. And the universal French Refreshment sangwich busts on your disgusted vision."

Uncommercial Traveller: Between the pieces, we almost all of us went out and refreshed. Many of us went the length of drinking beer at the bar of the neighbouring public-house, some of us drank spirits, crowds of us had sandwiches and ginger-beer at the refreshment-bars established for us in the Theatre. The sandwich--as substantial as was consistent with portability, and as cheap as possible--we hailed as one of our greatest institutions. It forced its way among us at all stages of the entertainment, and we were always delighted to see it; its adaptability to the varying moods of our nature was surprising; we could never weep so comfortably as when our tears fell on our sandwich; we could never laugh so heartily as when we choked with sandwich; Virtue never looked so beautiful or Vice so deformed as when we paused, sandwich in hand, to consider what would come of that resolution of Wickedness in boots, to sever Innocence in flowered chintz from Honest Industry in striped stockings. When the curtain fell for the night, we still fell back upon sandwich, to help us through the rain and mire, and home to bed.

Dickens must have enjoyed a good sandwich as much as I do. I'll have one of those universal French Refreshment sangwiches for lunch, please!

Andy-cane

The holidays are past and we regretfully give up our candy canes until next year.

But we've got something even better — our Andy-cane!

The Chiefs, the Super Bowl, and Me

The last time the Chiefs were in the Super Bowl I remember watching it with my family in our little red house near Kansas City. My dad called every play of the game just as they ran it.

Yesterday Mom and I watched the Chiefs win the playoffs, the day after what would have been Dad's 86th birthday. That victory unleashed our memories and turned the victory into something personal.

It is wonderfully unreal that she and I will be watching them in the Super Bowl together again.

Welcome Jeeves!

We didn't mean to get a puppy so soon after Wash died, but keeping an eye on Craig's List for Boxer puppies led us to this sweet little guy. Though "little" is a relative term. He was the biggest in the litter and weighed 15 pounds at 10 weeks old.

He's Jeeves because we never had a Boxer who didn't take an active interest in the mail, the housework, the social activities, and all the things that a good butler has to manage to keep everyone's lives on an even keel. What has surprised us is how few people (at the vet, for instance) have heard of the Jeeves name before. Oh civilization, what cost progress when we leave behind the gentle P.G. Wodehouse references?

Usually I never worry about bringing a puppy home to another dog. The adult understands that a puppy gets special license. But Kaylee is very dog aggressive. Wash is the only dog she was ever friends with so we weren't sure if her mothering instincts would kick in automatically.

We spent a week with them alternating crates to get to know each other, a day with them on leashes around the house ... and then Kaylee took things into her own hands, racing up and down in play mode. Off came the leashes and no one has looked back. Jeeves is delighted. He's hero worshipped Kaylee since he set eyes on her, plastering himself to her crate and whining.

Kaylee spent a day being very dominant (as is right and proper) and then settled down to enjoying playing and correcting when Jeeves forgets his place (which is fairly often - you know how fun it is to jump on someone's head - how do you just not do that?).

Now we're all settling down to the job of keeping socks and shoes off the floor, endless pull toy playing, and lots of fun as this little guy explores the big world. And at the end of the day ... we're all ready for a good rest.

The End to Our Double Boxer Era — Goodbye to Wash

On Thursday, our gentle 11-year-old giant Wash suddenly went down. On Friday morning we had him put to sleep. Of all the dogs I've known in my lifetime I now realize that he was "my dog" more than any of them. He was embedded in my routine in a dozen tiny ways I never thought about.

As Tom said on Facebook, Wash was the opposite of Zoe, our other Boxer who died a few months ago. He was happy, curious, and playful as a Boxer should be. His soulful eyes added greatly to the Boxer look of "concerned curiosity" and he took that look seriously, he had to sniff every package or mail that came into the house.

Wash always was more aware of the television than other dogs we've had.
He particularly responded to dogs, sometimes without even hearing barking —
in the instance above the animated dog hadn't made a sound. Wash will bound over to
the television and brace himself on the console so he can bark back "in person."
When the dog disappeared mysteriously, he'd look for the interloper behind the TV
and then around the house.

We took it as a good omen that he died on the feast day of St. Francis. I am really glad that right before everything went downhill he went on a walk where he warned the other dogs that this was his street (by aggressively eating a mouthful of grass, an intellectual connection that the other dogs totally missed every time), drank from sprinklers, and checked out all the Halloween decorations in yards. In other words, he got to enjoy his life to the fullest to the very end.

He was a good dog and he will be missed by everyone who knew him.

In the meantime, Kaylee is doing her best to fill the void. As Tom says, "Even though we lost a pair of Boxers this year, we still have a half pair of briefs. (Sorry for the pun)"

Here are a couple of memories from the "double boxer" years.

The early years, Wash and Zoe

More grown up and tired out from "watching" football with the family.

The End of An Era — Goodbye to Zoe

Last week, Zoe succumbed to cancer, as will surprise no one who has had Boxers. It is an ill that breed bears with their own particular merry cheer.

I wasn't going to mention it but saw from the stats that several posts have been looked at a lot lately ... those from when both Wash and Zoe joined our family. It brought back such good memories that I thought I'd share the link here for any other Zoe fans who want to see a little more about the hurricane that changed our lives.

It is impossible to sum up Zoe in a few words or even a few paragraphs. She could be wonderful, she could be equally terrible, and her intense, larger-than-life personality filled our house. As my husband said, "She was a military-grade hyper-Boxer." She's now a family legend.

I'll also say that she's the only dog I know of who had an entire sex industry convention at her feet: which you may read about here.

Of course we miss her. Life is calmer without her as Wash and Kaylee can't possibly fill that void, though they are doing their best.

Our Bollywood Year by Tom Davis

Tom posted this on Facebook as a 2018 year-end summary of our unexpected interest in Bollywood  movies (and all other Indian movies). If you don't belong to Facebook (and there are people who don't) then you can't read it. As he was putting together the piece, we really enjoyed reminiscing about the path that got us to this point. So I'm sharing it here as part of our family chronicles for 2018.

We watch a lot of movies. I post each movie to Facebook after we watch. (That is pretty much all I post on Facebook) Some are old, some new, most at home and occasionally at the theater.

But this year took a strange turn. Of the 94 movies we watched in 2018, 43 were from India.

At the end of 2017 I was on a Skype call with a client (I will call him Srinath because that is his name) in India (Hyderabad) and while waiting for a third person to arrive we began talking about movies. Srinath asked if I had seen any Indian movies, I answered yes. Julie and I had seen Lagaan which is often recommended as a very accessible Indian movie.

Srinath was impressed and asked if I had seen Slumdog Millionaire. Of course, although I did not consider it Indian Cinema - being directed by Danny Boyle and having no song sequences. It was about India, but even then I knew what made a movie Indian. Srinath asked about a few similar movies - he finally said I needed to watch Baahubali. A two-part epic fantasy about a long ago kingdom and two princes vying to be king - one evil, one good. That was December 30, 2017. We loved it.

We did not watch any Indian movies until Sridevi’s untimely death was in the news in June. So we watched her comeback film English Vinglish. We loved it.

India produces almost 2,000 movies a year so it is difficult to choose one. Rose found a list of the Top 100 Bollywood films by Timeout London. (So their viewpoint included western sensibilities) She chose movies from after 2000 which gave us a long list of movies to watch.

So every week we were watching one or two Indian movies a week. We started learning who the big stars were and what directors to rely on. We learned what a masala movie is and began to expect at least 6 songs with dancing per movie and nothing shorter that 2 and half hours run time. (3 hours is typical)

A few months in I kept thinking I would “snap out of it”, but as we grew more comfortable these movies were getting better.

Most of the movies have been fairly light, but we have seen great action movies, intense dramas and even science fiction (of a sort). Some movies can have a lower production quality than we expect from Hollywood, but the stories and action usually compensate.

In November we went to see a first run movie in the theater - Thugs of Hindostan - which was released worldwide on the same day. We loved it. (Indians apparently did not love it.)

We also learned a lot about India. In order to understand context we had Wikipedia on the iPad ready to explain locations, situations and religions that are part of Indian culture. Just ask me about the war of Bangladesh independence - that was the movie Raazi.

Finally, we learned that Bollywood is just one part of the Indian movie industry - about 43% by box office. Bollywood is the Hindi language movie center. Tollywood is the Telugu language center (Hyderabad) and Kollywood is the Tamil language center (Chennai). These two represent 36% of the industry, and there are movie production centers all over India for other languages.

Whatever it is called it is now big part of our regular movie watching.

Look What Mom Made Me!

A good mother knows what her child loves. In this case favorite books and my beloved podcast. And I've got a good mother! Of course!

Happy Birthday Rose!

Croquembouche

This is what I'd make if you were here with us. (Luckily I know you're going to make your own — can't wait to know how that works out!)

And we'd go to dinner. Maybe Mariano's since you don't have any decent TexMex in L.A.

Most of all, we'd give you many birthday hugs and kisses, since I know a 26 year old is never too old for those!

Happy Birthday! We love you!

8 Minutes of Thunder - The Ballad of Tommy Bobby

I gave Tom 8 minutes on a NASCAR track for Christmas and the timing worked out so that he drove on his birthday. He had a blast and hit a high of 149 mph.

This turned into a NASCAR theme birthday for Tom. Afterward we watched Talladega Nights (thank you Hannah for that idea!). Pretty good for a family that never watches NASCAR.

My Bumper Sticker

I was just had my THIRD person in a year go to a lot of trouble to get my attention while we were both driving. To say that they really liked my bumper sticker.

Got it at the Eisenhower Presidential Library (which sets the gold standard for presidential libraries) and thought it was hilarious. Also, I've never seen another car with it so I never worry about heading for the wrong red Freestyle.

But it obviously hits another chord these days!

Happy Birthday to Rose!

Yellow Rose Cake from Williams-Sonoma

This is strikingly similar to last year's birthday post for Rose ... largely because I tend to have the same thoughts about her on her birthday so far away from home.

This cake is because I was thinking of how much fun it would be to celebrate Rose's birthday with her in person.

Alas and alack, she is in the city of the angels and we are in Dallas. But it made me think of how she loves Texas. All the Texas cakes I found were rather uninspiring. Not that there is anything wrong with the Texas flag on a Texas shaped cake. In fact, that is the height of Texas love, but I couldn't find any photos that looked as if I wouldn't be ripping off a family cake photo.

So I naturally turned, for my Rose, to thinking of the yellow rose of Texas and it turns out that Williams-Sonoma has made the ultimate yellow rose cake. Ultimate.

Happy birthday my sweet Rose. 25 years old? How did that happen?

I know this year she will be alone on her birthday. Luckily that prospect didn't seem to bother her when we talked yesterday. Maybe she was eyeing the birthday box I sent. We'll talk after she opens it.

Until then this will have to do: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

2014 Ladies' Horror Film Fest Report

This isn't every movie we tried because some movies ran into technical or other difficulties (Shaun of the Dead had accents too strong for Mom to understand but we couldn't get the captioning on her tv to work right, for example). Some she just didn't like so we quit watching after 15 or 20 minutes.

We also took a leisurely attitude. Sometimes we did outside activities like cutting out quilting materials for Mom or making a cake or sitting by the ocean for a lovely dinner. And so forth. Such are the joys of homegrown film festivals!

The ratings below reflect my own opinion and not those of my fellow viewers. Also, don't miss below for What We Learned!

It was a blast overall and I highly recommend such festivals to any movie-loving family! In fact, we were already beginning a list for the next film fest (not horror based) before we left.

FRIDAY

Halloween 1978

★★★★★

Part of the horror film fest that my mother, oldest daughter and I had over the weekend. We watched my mother's copy. Yeah. You read that right. I told you she was a horror film fan, which was confirmed when she said she watched The Texas Chainsaw Massacre to see why a friend liked it. Bottom line, she was surprised that it was so funny.

My daughter and I hadn't seen Halloween before. Loved it! There is one scene that suddenly brought the whole thing into focus and made me embrace it ... you know what I'm talking about, probably. It involves a gravestone and a pumpkin ... Truly a classic horror film that was delightful in its simplicity.

Poltergeist 1982

★★★

The second of our ladies' horror film fest (Mom, daughter Hannah, and me). This did not age as well as one could have hoped for. As my mother said, it came off as a combination of ET and a horror movie. It was a bit slow in the story telling and as a look back at that particular style I could appreciate it. However, the second ending was too much and I wish they'd have wrapped it up more quickly.

The Woman in Black 2012

★★★★

The final film of Friday for our horror film fest. I'd always meant to watch this and I can understand complaints I'd seen that it was a bit slow and not much happened. However, we were all pleased with the sheer beauty of the film and the hovering spookiness of Daniel Radcliffe's experiences in the old house. Honestly, if you want someone to stand around looking gloomy and startled, I can hardly think of anyone who could have done it better.

SATURDAY

The Haunting 1963

★★★½

This was on Saturday's bill of fare for our horror fest. We all had read The Haunting of Hill House (on which it is based) so many times that we could pick out where it diverged from the original story. Honestly, they did a really good job of adapting the book faithfully, except for Eleanor's love interest and the character of the professor's wife. None of us could figure out how those changes were an improvement to the story or any easier to film but they didn't make the movie any less enjoyable.

Mama 2013

★★★★★

Saturday evening's showing in our horror film fest. I'd been avoiding this because I thought it would be a lot more violent and disturbing than it actually was. It had the feel of a lot of Guillermo del Toro's work, which isn't surprising since he produced it and one wonders if he didn't advise also. However that may be I was surprised at how much I really liked this movie.

SUNDAY

The Night of the Hunter 1955

★★★

Mom has been pushing me to watch this for years and not surprisingly it was her pick for winner of our horror film fest. I was not quite as taken with it. It felt like three different movies sewn together with Mitchum's terrorization of the kids leading into a slow, meditative Huck Finn turn, followed by spunky Lilian Gish showing us how good parenting is really done while taking on Mitchum. I really loved Lillian Gish's sung response to Mitchum's trademark gospel song. I can understand why Charles Laughton's direction is always mentioned because he had some really wonderful moments of staging that will stick with me for a long time.

Pitch Black 2000

★★★★

A guilty pleasure and not strictly part of the ladies' horror film fest we were staging. We didn't think Mom would enjoy it, so Hannah and I put it on and watched it bit by bit whenever Mom was taking a nap. We didn't finish it but somehow it was always there in the background. Alien monsters and Vin Diesel. 'Nuff said.

Young Frankenstein 1974

★★★★★

This was the final film we watched in our horror film fest. It was just what we needed to wind up feeling good and finding our way back into the real world where people don't sit around watching movies all day long. It's practically perfect in every way.

WHAT WE LEARNED

Watching so many of these back to back we soon learned that there were common themes for certain elements. We took these to heart. So much so that by the last evening I was made nervous by looking in a bathroom mirror

Disregard these hard-earned lessons at your peril!

In no particular order:

1. Do not trust ethereal women in black. They are not nice.
2. If you've seen a mysterious, masked, disappearing man and then the boy you're babysitting sees a mysterious, masked, disappearing man — they are connected. Listen to the children.
3. If a doctor/professor is writing a paper on psychic phenomenon, do not think he ever has your best interests at heart.
4. Flickering lights almost never mean a bad electrical connection.
5. You are never going to get a good night's sleep in a looming house — especially on a hill — especially when it is loaded with Victorian decorations.
6. Begin investigations in the morning, not in late afternoon when it's getting dark and all you have is a candle or tiny flashlight.
7. Do not look in the mirror. I repeat — do not look in the mirror.

Almost Brand New Puppies

These three baby boys came in overnight with no mom. The person who found them tried to care for them the best she could, but at just a few days old, they needed more care than she could provide. Thanks to your donations of heating pads, bottles, and formula they are still alive. It's touch and go, of course, but YOU are making a difference.

Dallas Animal Services Facebook page

This takes me back to the old days when my parents raised and bred Bulmastiffs for show. We sometimes had teeny tinies like this who needed extra care. I can still remember getting the feeding tube down a bitty baby and watching it suddenly go to sleep in my hands as I pushed the syringe slowly and it became ... full.

I've gotta say that no one uses Facebook to better advantage than Dallas Animal Services. They update it continually with pictures and stories that make me feel good, know their needs, and just generally keep them top-of-mind. Aside from our Boxer needs, we generally have adopted rescue pets from the SPCA. However, the next time we'll probably go to Dallas Animal Services. The SPCA has some very generous donors and now has a "no kill" policy but Dallas Animal Services doesn't have that luxury.

Dance and Life Lessons

Tom and I began dance lessons last night. I've always wanted to know the steps to the basic dances. I felt cheated growing up in an age where you made up your own dances. That was never my idea of a good time. So we are living the cliche. The kids are out of the house and we're taking dance lessons.

We now are acquainted with the Rumba, the Foxtrot, Swing, and the Merengue. All in one hour! Needless to say, it is merely a nodding acquaintance but we hope to improve it substantially in the weeks to come.

I used to be good at aerobic dance but, it occurs to me, that didn't need a partner. There is something daunting about minding one's own steps while coordinating with one's partner. Oh, and "listen to the music, this is supposed to be fun!" as the instructor said.

What? I can't do all that at once. Although by the end of the hour I did have moments where it all came together briefly and showed me the fun to come. The Merengue was easy enough that various partners and I could have brief conversation between rotations and twirls. I suddenly understood the Hollywood musicals where couples could break in on each other's dance partners and pick up complicated conversations. While dancing.

Interestingly, it didn't take many changes of partners, as they rotated around the room, until I could tell a practiced dancer from a neophyte. We were told that it took three or four months of classes before becoming adept enough to move on to intermediate. So there was a smattering of practiced men and women among us.

Most interesting of all was the fact that at the end of an hour, I could tell a good partner from a bad one. I don't mean that a bad partner was unpracticed in dance. I mean that there were some very generous partners who recognized my inexperience and adapted their steps to my pace and my mistakes. The bad partner never slowed down or tried to make our dance work as that of one couple. He just whisked me along expertly, me stepping on his feet as I lost track of what was going on, and then moved on.

At one point, I glanced over at Tom who was leading a young blonde woman in the Foxtrot. He, like me, was gamely struggling with the steps but with the additional pressure of leading his partner. She was gliding smoothly and I heard her murmuring to him, "Slow, slow, sidestep fast." It warmed my heart. That was generous on her part.

I hesitate to label the lack of adapting oneself to one's partner as pride, but it did spring to mind, especially since the person in question had been called upon to help the instructor demonstrate dances before we learned steps.  Perhaps it was a beginner's lack of experience, just in the area of dance courtesy rather than steps. But it did make me very grateful for the people who didn't forget that at one time they too had been absolute beginners and that it takes two to make a good dance couple.

Of course, this doesn't just apply to dance. It applies to all of life. We're thrown into situations with other people all the time. We can make it easy or we can be proud, show off. Sometimes, I'm sorry to say, I am the one showing off without consideration for the person who, often through no fault of their own, is slower for some reason. This is a good reminder to me, especially as this reflection comes on Ash Wednesday, that I need to strive to always be one of the generous partners.

Why I Was Late for Work OR The Beast in the Bathroom

The Beast
or as Kaylee thinks of it, The Prey

Kaylee was barking from her bed in the middle of the night. She's a pretty good guard dog but we didn't get up to check it out.

Later Tom said he thought he heard some rustling that made him think we had something pretty large in the attic overhead.

Overhead.

If only.

We got up only to remember it was Presidents' Day because of our lack of a Wall Street Journal, drank coffee, and then Tom meandered back to the bathroom. Only to come immediately back saying, "I know why there was barking in the night. You won't believe what's in my bathroom."

Poor little thing.

I could see its black ear shaking against the white wall when I peeked around the corner.

It wasn't the only creature shaken up. Wash, our 85-pound gentle giant of a Boxer, atypically slept next to Tom (the alpha who would presumably protect him) and after Tom left, he moved next to me (the beta, so almost as good as a protector). More charitably we could assume he was protecting us. Sure. That's it. Protecting us.

Little thing is a relative term, of course.

That possum was probably a third of Kaylee's size. All we can figure is that she brought in yet another trophy to us. Since it was the middle of the night why not bring it where we were? The bedroom. I can only imagine that possum's terror at waking up and finding the exit blocked by Kaylee on her bed near the door. I am just surprised it found such a good defensive corner to crouch in.

Again we marveled at the way a possum's protective "faint" worked so well. Kaylee, the perfect predator, has brought us numerous dead rats and squirrels. One good shake and their necks are broken. She seems stymied by the "dead" possum though. Both of those have been alive when we found them in the house.

Thanks, girl. We love you too.

Luckily we had a huge cardboard box and a broom. That combined with the corner into which the little guy had backed itself were the perfect trap. A few minutes later it was outside near the bushes, motionless. When Tom looked out a few minutes later it was gone.

The Predator
Enjoying the satisfaction of a job well done.

Worth a Thousand Words: Aerial Arts at the Margarita Ball

Hannah performing on silks at the Margarita Ball

You wouldn't think this was her hobby, would you? She looks like a professional aerialist ... a dangerous, spike-haired professional.

I understand the Moxie Mischief gang was a big hit and we are very happy for them and very proud of Hannah.

What I Learned On My Summer Vacation - Part 1

We went to a niece's wedding in Virginia in the Blue Ridge Mountains at Wintergreen Resort. Tom and I then took advantage of being "back East" to go to Pittsburgh and meet some online friends in person.

A few discoveries, in no particular order.

• When you go to a wedding on a mountaintop and the first thing you see next to the outdoor seating is a can of Deep Woods Off ... use it. Don't think the stiff breeze will keep the insects away. Just use it.
  
  
• When you attend a wedding on a mountaintop, it may be punctuated by bird song or raptor cries. This adds a note of romance. The cat yowling at a nearby house (albeit one hidden by dense forest) does not. Especially when everyone is wondering whether that is a baby or a cat.
  
  
• You can completely plan a destination wedding by email, as my brother and sister-in-law in Germany discovered. A lot of it will go just as you hoped. However, much of it may lead to a series of miscommunications, especially if the destination resort doesn't really take the wedding planning in hand the way it might (yes, Wintergreen Resort, I'm looking at you).
  
  However, the great thing about having a series of miscommunications during a wedding is that you soon discover everything works out ok anyway and that the important things are what matter ... such as the wedding itself. So in a way that is a great way to have your married life begin. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it!) Plus, that wedding cake was one of the most delicious I've ever had. I'm just sayin' ... sometimes things go better than you could have expected.
  
  
• When you stay at the Holiday Inn Express in a nearby town, rather than at the mountaintop resort, you soon discover that repeated forays up very steep, crooked inclines may put a strain on your car's 8-year-old transmission.
  
  This adds a note of anticipation and adventure to every subsequent foray up and down. It also adds a note of nostalgia for one's childhood when cars were not so reliable. It also increases one's prayer life, sense of trust in God, and adds a lot of variety to routes taken as one continually strives for the level, gradual paths. So ... that's all to the good! (Again, my story and I'm stickin' with it.)
  
  
• As is often the case at these things, I didn't get to talk to my family members nearly as much as I wanted. However, I did get to have very enjoyable conversations with many other guests, including a young couple who are making a go of it as vegetable farmers supplying restaurants with fresh produce, a young Combat Medic off to her first posting in Germany, and part of my sister-in-law's family who I'd never have met otherwise. I love the random nature of these encounters and how interesting everyone was.

Part 2 is here.