Embrace The Suck

Silence; though not absolute, surrounds me. As Buddy moves I hear his tags rattle on his collar. The fan makes a slight wind rushing noise as it cools my office. The sound of the keys as I strike them on the computer. The computer itself adds a slight hum sound as it works. I could/should mention the whirring, clacking pop and whistle of my brain as I work at this blog post. Oh those wonderful noises in my head. Buddy has grown from a 5 pound puppy to just at 50 lbs. No longer a lap dog but he does still try. He is in training now for basic skills; sit stay, lay down. pay attention and so on. We are at week 4 of 8 and Buddy seems to like being in class. Of course he is the teachers pet/star of the class. We're working on leash training and his potty alerts. He is pretty good with that and hopefully it will be sooner than later that we con count on him 100% of the time to let us know he needs to go out. Mary has recovered from her broken ankle enough to walk without the aid of a c

( I listened to a webinar last night about how to write a best selling book. The commentater, Jerry Jenkins of the Left Behing series, warned against start with the back story. That's when I realized I always start with the back story. There you have it, why I'll probably never write a best seller.) A woman I was good friends with back in the the 80's passed away on Monday. I'd only recently re-connected with her. For twenty years we lived in the same city but never crossed paths. I saw something about her on FB and sent her a message.  In "before I broke my ankle days" we met for lunch and to get reacquainted. We spent close to three hours talking about our lives, our kids, our grandkids, our illnesses. There were so many blanks to fill in. We also retraced our steps to those days when we were Navy wives whose husbands were deployed for months at a time. That was before the Internet, email, cell phones, and social media.  The only contact we had with our

Sweetie was in his office the other night so I had complete control over the remote. I spend more time scrolling through Netflix than I do watching a movie. I decided to watch the documentary about Glen Campbell and his life with Alzheimer's Disease. I'm still trying to figure out if it was informative or more like watching a traffic accident. You don't want to see what happens, but you can't keep your eyes away from the horror. Maybe horror is too strong a word. In many ways the movies was beautiful, touching and funny. But there's no getting around the fact that Glen Campbell is forgetting more than he's remembering (last year, I believe he was admitted to a memory care facility in Nashville). At the beginning of the movie, Glen and his wife, Kim, were sitting on a couch looking at family pictures."Who's that?" he'd ask. Then she'd tell him it was one of his children or another family member. I cried. I honestly cannot imagine doing t