All things bright and beautiful

Oh the love of a dog.  There are those who love lizards.  And those who are "cat people."  Some people feel most alive when they are around horses (sidenote: watch the documentary "Buck" if you get the chance--inspiring and well-done).  Back to my point, I am a dog person.  I like cats.  I talk to any animal I see practically thinking I can become its friend.  But at the heart of it all, I love my dog.  And other dogs.  Little furry creatures that wag their tails.  Love them.

In California, C and I talked about getting another dog to keep Arthur company and to love on.  We even went to a shelter there.  Unfortunately, the dog we had our hearts set on was not a good match for Art.  I blame part of this on the environment in which the dogs met (picture: metal fencing, dirt, bad smells).  It felt like a prison yard, and both dogs acted like it was in fact a prison yard.  So we put a new doggie out of our minds for a bit when that didn't work out.

When we moved to Bend, we started talking about it again.  A little time had passed, we felt situated in our new house and area, and it seemed like the right time.  We visited the Humane Society one Friday evening and immediately put our names down for a sweet girl we met there.  That didn't work out either.  Someone else had their name down and had 24 hours to decide...and they decided she would complete their family.  Great news for them, slightly sad news for us.

But I know this all happened because we were meant to have a certain animal come into our lives.  In February, we started looking for a boxer online.  Arthur has been amazing, and I know the breed pretty well from hanging with my brindle buddy for the last 8 years.  There was a rescue...but it was 5 hours north in WA.  I of course wanted about 10 of their boxers when I started looking at the pictures, but we settled on a younger guy that the head of the rescue thought would work well for us.  At the time, his name was Harley...and these are a couple of pictures we saw of him on their site.





We made sure that we would not be making a 5 hour drive one-way to find out he wasn't a good match with Arthur (and they assured us he was mellow and sweet).  So we did it!  We drove the 5 hours to Ellensburg, WA and met our new buddy.  He was and is adorable.  The drive home I sat in the back with both dogs and cuddled with my new furry friend.

I knew I would like having two dogs, but really I had no idea how much I would like it.  We changed his name because it just didn't seem to fit him and because he was only 10 months old we knew with a little repetition he'd be just fine adjusting.  To be honest, he didn't really respond to his given name anyway.  Ha.  It felt a bit like naming a baby.  I have a thing for old man names when it comes to dogs. Obviously with Arthur, his name is just perfect for his personality.  We must have listed off 30 old man names and couldn't really agree on anything that fit our new guy until the morning after we got him.  We were on our first family walk and Cooper said, "What about Moses?"  PERFECT!  It fits him so well, he reminds me of a mellow old dude and it goes well with Arthur.

I am so happy that we rescued a boxer and have grown so attached to this guy in such a short time.  We got him February 22nd and yet it feels like he has always been with us.  Here are our fellows (who are great pals now...Art took a day or so to really love on Moses, but since then it's been no turning back).  I think his main issue was just jealousy since he'd been the only doggie we focused on for so long.  But I knew he would love him quickly and I was right!!  Life with two dogs is indeed bright and beautiful.


One of the only times Moses was naughty...he's really been a good boy for being less than a year when we got him.  This cracked us up though.  He was being told "no" and just rolled over to look cute. :)

 At the top of Pilot Butte after our hike with our buddies Joe and Jen who were in town from the bay area.  Gorgeous day, and the dogs did great!

 Arthur has a method for getting the tennis ball back from Moses.  He sits on him.  We have video of him doing this about 5 times within a minute.  It is hilarious to watch.  And it usually works.  Eventually Moses spits out the tennis ball. :)

We love our guys, and we love our life!  The rescue calls boxers "wiggle butts" and it is truly accurate. Their little faces are so expressive and because they lack more than a nubbin' of a tail their whole back half wiggles when they see us.  Unconditional love wrapped up in jowels,  nubbins and faces I just can't resist.  :)

In honor of Nettie

Today the verdict came in. GUILTY.

Waves of relief flooded over people in the courtroom and all over a collective sigh happened I'm sure as the news spread. I was not there. I'm in Oregon, thousands of miles away. But I still feel connected to the family, to Nettie's friends. There has been such a united front of support this entire time, and it is a blessing from above.

It is not a happy time. It is not something anyone should have to experience. It is not something anyone should be prepared for because it is a terrible, horrible thing.

I have found myself looking inward lately. Wondering why I feel so strongly about this. I hadn't seen Nettie in a decade at least. The reason I have stumbled upon is this: Nettie was a good person. I said it in my previous blog about her. Everyone liked her. That is why it rocked us to the core to see someone like that taken from us. It makes no sense. And it will never make sense as it was wrong and evil to take her from this life.

I am happy to know that the family can start down the road to closure. They will ALWAYS miss Nettie because she was the kind of person that you miss (I typed "is" first...strange how the mind does that). The important thing now is that they continue to feel loved and supported, and I have no doubt that they will. I'm proud to be a part of a community who has rallied around in prayer and love for the Petersons. I am thankful that the trial has concluded in this way. And I am proud to say that Nettie was my friend.

Words, words, words

Everywhere I look there are words. Every t-shirt in the stores seems to say something. Anyone tried to buy baby clothes lately? "Daddy's little princess" and "Mommy's little slugger" dominate. But it is getting more and more difficult to find something that is just a classic outfit without it saying something.

The same goes for artwork. We are so into words. It is interesting to me that this trend comes at a time when it seems like people are reading less and using incorrect English more. Words are abbreviated for the sake of speed. "Totes" is no longer considered to be a couple of small bags you might take on a trip. "Amazeballs" makes sense to people, and it is not even a word. (Yes I realize this is not in fact a shortened word, it is just made up and proves the point for me anyway).

I'm challenging myself to read more in the coming months. It calms my mind. It makes me smarter (well, depending on the book...the Brontes will always help me learn new words!). And if I'm going to buy a piece of artwork that says "All because two people fell in love..." (which I'm not, ever) I should at least also open up a book and be inspired by words there.

Husbands are smart...repeat after me

So there's this new switch in advertising. Maybe it's been slow. Or maybe it happened overnight. I don't really know. Brian Regan talks about it in his stand-up and that just might be what got me thinking about it originally. Then Cooper started to point it out when we we would watch a commercial (not often really in this DVR age, but it happens).

The switch is this: men are made to look like idiots...most of the time. Have you noticed this? It's in yogurt commercials. "Yeah, I have lost weight--I eat key lime pie, Boston cream pie..." the man says while he is on the phone. His wife looks over from the fridge with an expression that says "You're so dumb" and then literally says to him in a disapproving voice, "honey..." and he hangs up the phone with a guilty expression. There's the vacuum ad where the husband is trying to do something with the blinds on a ladder and starts to fall out the window. Luckily the wife can suck him back in with the end of the vacuum hose! Because she is the wife. And gosh, her husband is stupid! Last night Cooper and I just looked at each other without even having to say anything after a Papa Murphy's commercial. The all-American family is sitting down for a nice dinner outside. Dad is on the grill. And oh my, that grill is just smoking because dear ol' Dad obviously doesn't know what he is doing. He looks just so silly over the charcoal grill. The wife looks over, exasperated. Thank goodness there is Papa Murphy's to come in and save the day as the worker comes up to the table with a fully-cooked (absolutely disgusting-looking) cheeseburger pizza complete with pickles. Yay! The family will be able to eat after all! One more quick camera sweep over to the stupid husband/father and the commercial is done. He is still trying to fan away ALL that smoke.

Honestly it bothers me. It bothers men. Men need to know they are trusted, respected, believed in. It is a hard thing to do sometimes. But it's these little things like advertising (really a BIG thing as it has been proven) that creep into our brains in the moments when we need to stand behind our husbands. Dangerous territory to think that I can handle everything and clean up ALL his mistakes (because oh man, there will be so many according to tv).

Brian Regan's stand-up line is "My husband is SOOOO stupid." And that truly is what these commercials are depicting more often than not. I completely understand that women do many many things around the house just by sheer habit or necessity. But personally, I could not have fixed my own brake pads the other night (thanks, honey!). It might be hard to remember to encourage, but I know I need encouragement and husbands (men in general!) do too. If we all work on showing respect to one another, I think (I hope) this kind of advertising will move on because it won't be funny and it won't sell. I love my men...the furry ones included. :) And I'm thankful for the things that we do for one another. We fill different roles. And both need to be encouraged and supported! :)

In an instant

In our new life in Bend, we have been very active. There is a dog park super close to the house, and it's good for Arthur and for us to go there and walk the trails. A week or two ago, we were at the park and noticed an older gentlemen having some trouble trying to wedge a boulder up off the path with a long pole. Cooper jogged up the hill to where he was and offered to help him. The two of them were able to get that boulder off the path and off to the side where it belonged. We chatted for a few minutes. The gentleman was named Bob and told us he was a volunteer who loved helping out at the park keeping the trails clear and the dogs happy. He had two little dogs with him and I even took a picture of the little one named Foxy because he had the cutest face. Foxy has obviously not been photographed as much as my poor animal because he kept moving and this was the least blurry shot I got of him.

Last week when we went I saw Foxy with a different man. I didn't really think much of it. But when Cooper went this week without me one morning, he told me there was a big tribute sign up about Bob. Apparently he passed away at the park while helping. :( How quickly life can change. It is always a good reminder that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. From our 5 minutes with Bob, I gathered that he loved to serve others and found joy in the simple things in life. That inspired me and will continue to.

Without You I'm just a lump

We woke up this morning with a blanket of snow, more than just the dustings we have been getting randomly. Exciting! :) This however meant my energy level was low all day. All I wanted to do was have a grilled cheese and soup and sit on the couch under a blanket. But there is always work to do, isn't there?

In the afternoon, C and I ran to Starbucks to get out of the house for a minute and got into a spiritual chat (as we like to do). I started rambling about something that has since formed itself into a little metaphor in my brain that I feel like sharing.

There is this part of us as Christians that knows we are not in control. Yes, we make choices with our free will and Lord knows we make mistakes. But at the end of the day with many of these issues we hold in our hands (in our own minds) the anxiety we feel is self-imposed because we are not in control of the outcome.

I started thinking about the potter and the clay. What a beautiful and practical illustration that truly is! I took a ceramics class in college, and I was JUST AWFUL at it. Ha. I had fun with a friend of mine who was also in the class, but the only pot I had to show from that entire semester was misshapen and ugly. My mother still has it, but that is just because she loves me and didn't want to be mean. We both know the truth. I digress. God is the potter. He is more talented than we can ascertain at the artistry of throwing a pot. He knows how much water to put on the wheel to get the clay to the proper consistency. He knows when to mold and shape and smooth his hands on the outside of the clay to make it into the cylinder He desires it to be when it reaches its full potential.

So why then do we as the lump of clay try to help ourselves form something? What can a lump of clay do without the hands of the artist? It is just a lump of clay. It does not even have hands. It can't (no matter how hard it tries) will itself to turn into a beautiful creation.

I don't mean to say that we just sit here and wait for God to do something with us. We work with Him when we feel those powerful hands. But when we yell at the Artist, "No, it's ok--I've got this!" He must just look at us and think "No, you NEED me." Because we do.

M is for Moving

I'm tired of moving. I didn't do much of it for 16 years, but I've made up for that now in adulthood!

The Journey of Me.....

Small beginnings in Muncie, Indiana--only moved when I was 16 temporarily to my grandma's for a couple of years. Then to an apt (sort of) for a minute with my mom before college.

Then it was off to inhabit English Hall at Taylor University for the next 3 1/2 years!  Room 337 was the one I was in sophomore-senior years with a different roommate each year.  Good memories!

The summer after my sophomore year I spent a month living in beautiful Highlands, NC with my buddy Katy.

In 2001, I lived in Englewood, FL for the summer with my friend Jenn and her parents. It was a blast and I enjoyed the better (albeit sweaty!) weather!

In January of 2002 when I was done at TU, I moved to the big city of Atlanta to throw myself into adulthood. Luckily my sister already lived there, and I wasn't too terribly overwhelmed (ok, I pretty much was). We moved twice in Atlanta.

After 2 1/2 years in Atlanta, it was time to spread my wings and explore the mean streets of Hollywood. This proved to be the most substantial move thus far in my life. I grew up abundantly, got a great job (after some not so great ones) that I'm still doing, and went to more concerts than I knew what to do with. I moved 4 times in LA.

In June of 2010 I made the move to the east bay, about 45 minutes outside of San Francisco. It was a rough year and a half honestly. Arthur had his major surgeries (ka-ching, ka-ching!). I got into a groove working a ton as a nanny on top of my assistant work that I did remotely. All in all, it was exhausting! But, Cooper and I took the plunge and got engaged in May 2011 and married on 8/20/11 in Monterey, CA so good things definitely came out of moving to that area. We made some awesome friends (this means you, Joe and Jen!) who we miss already!

And now here we are. Sigh. In beautiful Bend, Oregon. I haven't felt this content in a very long time. I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. It feels like I am meant to be here with my guy and my dog. Our house is wonderful (thank God for skype!). We didn't even see it before we got here. Now, that is a RISK...but it worked out wonderfully. We are happy and thankful and easing into a new way of life as Oregonians.

And I hope to not move again for a long long long time. :)