Categories
Entertainment Life

Answers

Tonight, all will be revealed. Maybe.

I, like many others, have been watching Mare of Easttown. The finale is tonight, and all signs point toward a riveting episode.

We’ve already gotten some answers; it turns out there are more than a few questions in Mare’s world. The seemingly most complicated one, however, remains unsolved. For now.

Even if we have the answers, I can’t help but wonder whether that will truly be the end of the case. The way things have been set up, and the way things have played out so far, suggests that a nice, neat ending isn’t guaranteed.

But then, that’s one of the reasons I like the show. It’s real. It’s unpredictable. It’s believable.

Sometimes, life gives simple, obvious answers. And sometimes, it leaves as many questions at the end as there were at the beginning. Different ones, perhaps, based on what’s been learned or what has happened. But not fewer.

I do have my theory, suspicions about certain characters and their involvement in the mystery. I hope we get closure on the actual whodunnit tonight.

If we’re left with new questions, however, the kind that require us to look within ourselves to find the answers – or, alternatively, to admit that we don’t have them – that would be okay. That would be in keeping with the story itself.

Here’s to Mare and the people of Easttown. Thank you for giving us an interesting, gritty, suspenseful, emotional ride, along with most (but maybe not all) of the answers.

Categories
Food Fun Pets

Snacks

My dogs, Mollie and Charlie, recognize certain words: outside, walk, breakfast, dinner, squirrel, no, good. They know what those words mean and react appropriately (or, in the case of squirrel, inappropriately, with loud barking and much drama). And recently, they’ve learned a new word: snack.

It started one morning when we all woke up early, and I was not quite ready to put their breakfast out. I offered them each a doggie treat, calling it a snack. Over time, it happened again, on early mornings and sometimes in the evenings, before dinner. Occasionally, they’d get a snack after a walk or before bed. They eventually learned to associate the word snack with their doggie treats.

They’ve also perfected the art of Begface: loving eyes, a slight head tilt, nose occasionally sniffing the air, mouth slightly open in an eager half-smile. Who can resist? Certainly not me.

And so, snacks are a routine now. I’ve started branching out, looking for new snack options, flavors and shapes and textures. It’s sort of like choosing between crackers and potato chips and popcorn, except for dogs.

I do my best to be a responsible pet owner, and I know that I need to keep their snacking under control. Just like humans, it’s easy for dogs to eat too many snacks (there’s a reason a well-known potato chip company built an entire ad campaign around the fact that nobody can eat just one). Still, it’s fun to reward them, to say the word snack and watch their happy reactions. It’s a sweet little ritual we share, an entertaining (for me) and a delicious (for them) moment in the day.

Here’s to snacks, the tasty tidbits of love that I share with my pups.

Categories
Life

Plans

I’ve restarted the process of thinking beyond the immediate future.

During the past year, most of my planning thoughts centered on today, tomorrow, maybe the next week. There wasn’t much need or opportunity to consider action or circumstances beyond that timeframe.

Occasionally, I’d envision eventualities; I’d think about a holiday or an important date, and I’d do the necessary things to prepare. But the combination of limited options and general uncertainty narrowed the process. It was best not to think too far ahead or make too many assumptions.

Now, however, that perspective is changing, bit by bit. I’ve found myself having random thoughts: What can we do next weekend? and Is that meeting next week or the week after? and I’d better get started working on that thing that’s happening in a few months. I’ve also started thinking about ideas, not just about actions. I find myself musing about the What if? type of stuff, the things that I intentionally pushed aside during this past year of cautious waiting and forced patience.

Planning is hopeful; it assumes that something is possible. It doesn’t provide guarantees, but it does create a framework of optimism. It’s nice to once again feel that little tickle of potential, that shiver of anticipation.

Here’s to plans for the future, big and small, important and trivial, and the hope that powers them forward.

Categories
Life

Ugh

Where I live, it’s been raining. A lot. I can’t remember the last weather forecast that didn’t include a chance of showers. Each morning, I wake up to overcast skies, gray and dim.

I keep telling myself to be glad for the rain. It’s keeping the hot weather at bay, refilling lakes and rivers, and the plants are thriving. In a few months, the sun will blaze and sizzle, day after day, and I’ll sweat and complain and count the minutes until summer is over. These days of clouds and water are a good thing. And mostly, I do appreciate them.

That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m not also experiencing a bit of ugh as I look out the window. And I’ve noticed that, when I go to choose my cuppa each morning, to pick the one that captures my mood and reflects my thoughts, they all look very much the same. Bland and blah; functional and utilitarian. I don’t see a lot of inspiration on the shelf.

Still, each of my cuppas has a fond place in my heart. Each of them is like a warm and comfortable sweater, the kind that reminds you of words like snuggly and contented and peaceful. No matter which one I choose on these days of ugh, it feels like a friend, one that accepts me and my bleary-eyed, early-morning imperfections and wants nothing more than to accompany me on my journey to wakefulness. I can select any one of them, and we sit together at the table and make our plans and contemplate the hours ahead. And slowly, the ugh evaporates, just a bit, and the day begins to look brighter, regardless of whether the clouds have gone away.

Here’s to appreciating the rain, even when it leads to feelings of ugh. And, here’s to the things we count on to make the ugh a little more bearable.

Categories
Animals Good Pets

Rescue

According to the National Day Today calendar, today is National Rescue Dog Day.

My husband asked me if there is a difference between rescue dogs and pound puppies. It appears that there are some minor differences.

A rescue dog, according to National Rescue Dog Day information, is a dog that is in a dire situation, such as living on the streets or abandoned in some way, and ends up being rescued via an animal shelter, a foster home, or adoption. They might need serious medical care, although very often, they recover quickly and develop into healthy dogs once they are in a safe situation.

“Pound puppies” is an unofficial term for dogs that are at the animal shelter, generally healthy but also in need of fostering or adoption. They might not have been in danger, sick, or injured when they arrived, and they typically don’t require extra care once they leave the shelter.

The primary differences, therefore, seem to be in the circumstances that brought them into their current situation and what they might need to live safe and happy lives. A small difference, but a meaningful one. Most importantly, however, they’re all dogs in need of good homes. If you’re considering a furry family member addition, please start your search at your local animal shelter or rescue organization.

There’s another aspect to National Rescue Dog Day that’s relevant. Rescuing can be a two-way street. Dogs have a way of making things better; easing loneliness, making us laugh, feel loved and accepted. Bringing a shelter dog into your life doesn’t only help the animal – although, of course, that’s a vital goal. But, if you yourself are in need of a little rescue, even if it’s only from time to time, it can help you, too.

There are oodles of animal rescue organizations and shelters doing their best to care for dogs, to find them homes and connect them with medical help and other necessary resources. One of the best known is the ASPCA. If you’re in a position to give of your money and/or your time, you can find more information at https://www.aspca.org/. If you’re looking for a more specific option, such as an organization that rescues certain types of dogs or delivers specialized medical care, a quick internet search will likely give you the information you need.

Happy National Rescue Dog Day. Here’s to all the dogs who’ve made life better through their companionship and love. And, here’s to all the people who have been and still are working to rescue each and every one.


Categories
Life Nature

Weeds

It’s nice, having a backyard garden. We ate some of our tomatoes last night at dinner, and I’ve been adding kale to various recipes during the past few weeks (the only good kale is cooked kale). Watching the plants sprout and grow and offer their bounty is rewarding and fun.

The thing is, however, that the planned plants aren’t the only ones that grow in the garden. Left to its own devices, a bit of dirt, combined with some rain and sunshine, can quickly become a home for random stalks and leaves, bits of nature taking over the neatly-arranged rows and productive patterns.

And so, it is necessary to engage in the never-ending process of weeding.

Pull some here, pick a few there. Some days, the end result is a clean garden, nice and neat everywhere. Most days, it’s only a small patch, one area under control for the time being, soon to be back where it started but weed-free at the moment.

I confess to feeling a little guilty when pulling the weeds. They’re simply growing where nature planted them. I’m the one who’s ending their journey, telling them that they’re not worthy. And, I quite like some of them, especially those that flower and climb, offering bright cascades of green and lush tangles of color. They remind me to be humble, as they quietly grow without my involvement. I am an observer, a participant – not a creator.

In the garden, however, coexistence doesn’t work very well. The weeds use up the resources. They block the light and invade the space, preventing the vegetables from growing properly. If the goal is tomatoes and cucumbers and basil and peppers, there must be a choice. I must take action. The weeds must go.

Here’s to gardens and plants and the fine line between wild and free, planned and productive. May we all have the good fortune of enjoying the special things they each have to offer.

Categories
Animals Good Nature

Otters

This morning, right before I woke up, I was dreaming that I was in the water, surrounded by sea otters. They were floating all around me, quietly, on their backs. Nothing more, nothing else – we were all just floating there, together, gently bobbing in the waves.

I suspect I dreamed this dream because of an article I read yesterday about sea otter sleeping habits. Otters often sleep on land, but sometimes, they also sleep in the water, on their backs. When they do, they wrap themselves in kelp strands and (here’s the part that makes me go squeeeeee) hold hands with other otters. This keeps them together; they avoid drifting apart and away during their nap time.

My dream was very peaceful. Perhaps the next time I’m feeling anxious or concerned about something, I’ll try to remember the feeling of gently floating in the water with all the otters surrounding me; the calm quiet and soft knowledge that I was not alone, that I would not drift away.

Here’s to sea otters and their simple yet smart sleeping habits. And, here’s to tranquil dreams of bobbing waves and feelings of warm, connected togetherness.

Categories
Life Nature

Bounty

“For ourselves, who are ordinary men and women, let us return thanks to Nature for her bounty by using every one of the senses she has given us.” – Virginia Woolf

Categories
Life

Firewood

Where I live, the days are warming up. Our days of fireplace flames are likely over for a while.

I’m still collecting firewood, however. During last winter’s freeze, when we were without electricity, the fireplace was an important heat source. Unfortunately, we didn’t plan well enough, and we had to ration the wood at the very end.

At one point, I went out in the backyard and gathered the sticks and branches that were on top of the snow. As I did, I remembered the Laura Ingalls Wilder story – I think it was from On the Banks of Plum Creek, but it might’ve been from Little House in the Big Woods – about Laura and Mary staying home while Ma and Pa went to town.

In the story, a blizzard sprang up unexpectedly while Ma and Pa were gone. Mary and Laura considered how they should manage the situation. They had heard of people freezing, stark stiff, in blizzards, because their fires had gone out. So, they decided to bring firewood in from the pile outside. That way, they could keep the fire going in the house without continually risking the journey outside in the howling, snowy wind.

They got a little carried away, however, caught up in their worry and the rhythm of going back and forth from the woodshed to the door. Ultimately, they brought the whole pile of wood inside.

When Ma and Pa got safely home, Laura and Mary explained about their fear of freezing stark stiff. Ma and Pa laughed at the situation, even though they appreciated the intent. They agreed that Laura and Mary had been wise, but Pa also said something along the lines of, “Next time, girls, don’t bring in quite so much wood.”

Each day now, in the mild spring weather, I gather a few sticks and branches from our backyard and put them in containers on our back porch. I figure that, by the time winter rolls around again, we’ll have enough to ensure our fire keeps going, even if our firewood supply runs low. At some point, of course, the containers will be completely full, and I’ll stop collecting. No need to go to extremes.

Some might think it’s a silly thing to do – in fact, I sometimes chuckle as I toss that morning’s collection into the bucket. Is it really going to make a difference? Is this ritual even worth my time? But then, I remember how it felt to worry about our firewood supply last winter, and I empathize with Laura’s and Mary’s perspective of better safe than sorry. And I tell myself it’s okay, as long as I don’t get carried away.

Here’s to being prepared for whatever life brings, as well as being wise enough to know when enough is enough.

Categories
Holidays Life

Honest

It’s Mother’s Day here in the U.S.A.

Today, the phrase “Happy Mother’s Day!” will echo across the land, perhaps accompanied by flowers and candy and handmade cards, sparkly gifts and family dinners. It is a day for celebrating moms; 24 hours dedicated to glorious motherhood.

I’m grateful for the recognition; I also struggle with it. It seems a bit dishonest to pretend, on this day, that motherhood is entirely magical. Yes, there are magical moments, but in my experience, motherhood is truly a roller-coaster ride, full of ups and downs, twists and turns.

I am beyond happy to be a mom. I adore my sons. I delight in their presence and marvel at the intelligent, kind, funny, wonderful adults they’ve become. They make my heart sing.

But. However.

As much as I am and have been and always will be a loving mom, an adoring and appreciative mom, a mom who sometimes can’t believe that she has the great good fortune of having these beautiful boys in her life, I must be honest. I also am and have been and will be, on occasion, an exhausted mom. An angry mom. A confused and scared and bewildered mom. An impatient mom; a mom without answers. An imperfect mom.

I’m also a daughter. I love my mother dearly and will spend time with her today, celebrating the good in our lives. Our roles have switched, however. I am now the caregiver, the mother figure, and the strain of this responsibility has changed our relationship. I no longer think of my mother as a provider of safety and comfort and warmth. Instead, I worry about how to provide these things to her; how to ensure that she’s as happy as possible, that she has the things she needs and that she feels loved and cared for, even if she’s no longer capable of fully participating in the experience. At times, the grief and guilt and resentment are overwhelming, damaging my perspective on what it means to be a daughter and what it means to be a parent.

Today, I also think about the people I know who’ve had (and are having) their own motherhood struggles. Some of them want motherhood with all their hearts but have been unable to realize that dream. Others have experienced the devastating loss of a child and now have only memories. I know of friends whose children have medical or emotional or educational challenges, who anxiously worry about their children’s future, their safety and their potential. Some of my friends are like me, caring for their moms as they age. Still others have found themselves caring for grandchildren, nieces and nephews, children whose parents can’t or won’t parent them, filling a gap, taking on a role they did not necessarily anticipate. And, some have lost their moms and are now coping with feelings of being adrift or alone or simply missing the person they loved.

So. Therefore.

If you choose to wish me a happy Mother’s Day today, I’ll gratefully accept. And, if you’d like me to return the salutation, I’ll cheerfully oblige.

If, however, you’d prefer to offer something like “Yay For Us, We’re Hanging In There This Mother’s Day!” or “We Are Awesome, Watch Us Getting It Done This Mother’s Day!” or even a simple “Let’s High Five This Mother’s Day!”, that’s okay by me. And, I’ll offer you whatever message works for you in return.

We can strive for perfection yet still accept our flaws. We can be happy, we can be joyful and grateful and merry; we can also be sad and frustrated and overwhelmed. We can be mothers who are real human beings, full of real human feelings, doing the best we can to do the best we can. We can be good at that, and that is worth celebrating.

Here’s to an honest Mother’s Day.