Will I, or Won't I?

I have decided this summer, after much agonizing, that this would be the summer that I get over the fear of showing my arms in public.   Just typing the words makes my stomach feel queasy.  For those of you who know me, THIS IS A REALLY BIG DEAL!!!!!

Prior to the start of this week, I owned 2 sleeveless things--one being my strapless wedding dress, which I don't usually wear, and one is a lightweight black sweater that I have worn on a few occasions that probably involved alcohol (aka liquid courage), and a prayer for a chilly day/evening so I could wear my Pashmina over my shoulders.

I have taken the first step....I purchased 2 neon (pink and green) running tank tops this week.

I really don't know where this tank top phobia came from.  The silly thing is, when I work out, I end up rolling up my sleeves and tucking them in to my sports bra...how does that make any sense?  I'm reasonably sure there really isn't anything wrong with my arms...except for the farmer's tan, which I know a tank top can cure.

A couple of things I don't get about germs...

If you go to a donut chain or a bakery, the workers use tissue to grab a donut for you.....but then they put the tissue in the bag with your donut.....


Ladies:  When you go in to a public bathroom, you're worried about germs, so you don't sit on the seat.  You squat.  You pee ALL OVER THE SEAT and don't wipe it up!  How does this make sense?  And then, everyone has to worry about not touching your germs.......   I have NEVER caught anything from a public toilet, and I don't enjoy cleaning up after you.   Just sit the F down.

A letter from Daisy

Dear June,

I've been meaning to write to you for a while. I've been gone almost 4 months already, and I'm still really sad. I know everyone probably thinks we're both OK and 'over it', but I know you're still sad. I know you're probably sitting at the computer crying as you read this. You did the right thing by letting me go---I wasn't well, and I knew it was hurting you to see me suffer.

I'm glad you had the strength and love in your heart to rescue two new dogs so quickly--that's the greatest tribute to my life that I could imagine. I never felt like it was a betrayal, or that I was being replaced. I know that's just not true. Thanks for keeping with the 'floral' names--Lilly and Holly are sweet names. I know their greatest faults will be that they are not me. Please try to love these dogs the way you loved me. If you can only love them half as much, they are still very lucky to have you. Please remember that they really are still puppies, and that I got in a lot of trouble one, too. I wasn't always the angel you remember ;)

I wanted to let you know something about all of the dog hair of mine that you found after I was gone, and that you continue to find. I know you found it a painful reminder, but I left it there so you would know I was thinking of YOU.

I mostly wanted to let you know that I'm OK, even though I'm sad, too. The beaches are endless, and I run as fast as I can, whenever I want. When I'm tired I take a nap in the sun, and there is always a lot of good food. Your old dogs Fiona and Nugget say hi--they miss you, too. Thanks for finding me, and for giving me a great life.

Please don't be sad--I promise you I'll wait for you. We will see each other again.

All my love,

Daisy

Goodnight sweet princess

She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever:
I was not wrong.
...
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Goodnight sweet princess...until we meet again. You are what I think of when I imagine heaven.

Daisy
January 1, 1998 - February 7, 2011

Can we fast forward to the part where it doesn't hurt?

I'm going to ramble...beware....


Daisy is still old, that had not changed. She came back to us after her scare in July, and we are forever grateful. In the last 6 weeks or so, Daisy has taken a turn for the worse. Daisy fell down the stairs in early January, seemed ok, but after a few days started to moan. I took her to the vet, and she was given some pain meds. She seemed better, but after few days started getting sick. Again,the vet...fluids, more meds, the worst night of my life with her in pain. And then, a small change, and then another...a rally, maybe? Go Daisy. How lucky I felt to be given yet another gift of Daisy's time. But then, I notice...she doesn't seem to like to go up and down the stairs...ok, we'll carry her. She doesn't bark at the mailman anymore...or anyone for that matter. She got excited for a walk, but wouldn't really go once we were outside....she eats, now she doesn't. She is frail, and bony. She is not our Daisy. She gifted us this time so we could say our 'goodbyes'--this I know. I have stopped praying for miracles. Daisy has lived a long, wonderful life, and there are others who need miracles more. My tears are selfish, for she will not suffer anymore. I promised I would listen Daisy, and I hear you. I do.

I can't help but anticipate the hole in my heart, and in my family. Daisy was the first member of the family I assembled, and now she leaving. To have a friend for 13 years is remarkable. She never turned her back on me, made false promises, or dropped out of my life for no reason. She has always been there, and has always been happy to see me. She won over every person she ever met--the biggest score, I think, was my husband. When he first met her he didn't even want to pat her--now he is overcome. I will miss the way he holds her like a baby, and the way he talks to her, sometimes to ask 'what were you dreaming about'. I am sorry that he is going to be in pain.

I'll miss the way she would follow me from room to room---(especially when Trevor was a baby--she'd come with me for the night time feedings) nudging open the bathroom door with her snout. I'll miss the smell of her fur, and her paws, and the way she would curl up with me on the bed. I won't see her with her front paws on the chair, gazing out the front window waiting for us, or chasing a squirrel. I'll miss watching her stretch out in a sunny spot on the deck for a quick nap, the way she moans when she scratches her ear just right, the way she would jump when you get her leash out--and sometimes howl, the little tuft of hair on her head that you could stand straight up like a Mohawk, they way she would sometimes sit,stare, and drool(not whine) when you had ice cream.....so many things to miss, but so many nice things to remember.

One more day Daisy, just one more day.