A Place for Family Treasures

SUMMARY: Books. Dogs. Bookends. To start with, anyway.

6:00 PM October 2, 2021. How can it possibly be getting dark this early already?

I'm typing away at the computer on my desk, trying to concentrate. But there's a niggling something at the edge of my consciousness. And finally I look off to the right of my bright, large monitor into the gloaming, and...

… something is staring at me with horrific wide white eyes from the shadows in the bookcase across this darkening room.

See it there on the top shelf, leaning against the little dark blue books? (Below the boxes, to the right of the vacuum handle?)

Let’s take a closer look, since the phone zoom is worthless.

Holy wow! Those aren’t his big buggy eyes!

They are his mustaches! Old friend of a friend.

He is nestling up to a collection of poetry in a set of books belonging to my great grandmother originally (My dad’s mom’s mom). 

Who is Betty?  Might be my grandmother, but no one called her that in my lifetime.
My great-grandmother?
Who is Glossie (seems vaguely familiar?) ?
Time to call on my Sisterclan hivemind! 
So I don't have to actually do the research myself.

And apparently my grandmother and her sister Hap were more or less bitterly divided about the fact that grandma inherited the books and Hap didn’t. (I don’t know: when I knew them, they were good friends and bought houses in Arizona in the same retirement town even though they were both from back east.) 

I was not the only sister who wanted them, but whatever negotiations we did, I brought them home. And have I opened them since I brought them home? I have no idea, but I like having them where I can see them easily. I do think about their growing fragility. The pages still cling tightly, but the spines are sketchy. I handle them with loving care when I touch them. We can keep aging, together.

They always held a prominent place of honor in my parents' living room. Dad had a set of bookends, wood, one of which was a large R and one of which was a large L. Those always… yes, bookended… those books. 

See the "R" and "L" around these books, top shelf?

And I have no idea whence those bookends came. Were they originally dad's, or were they his father’s? A gift? (I'm guessing yes on that.) So many things that I never asked and that they never wrote down. Unless that’s in the anecdotal history that dad wrote.

And... which sister took the bookends home? They were always around these books (at least since the late '70s), so I should've spirited them away when no one was looking, heh heh heh.  Of course... I already have several warehouses full of bookends plus a plethora of items that make fine book-holder-uppers, such as this little guy.

But I do know whence came the dog: My best friend since junior high. It was her Dad's and it reminds her of him. They lived together in their spacious-enough home until he died around 90, so I also knew him for a long time; not well, because he wasn't usually around when we were hanging out, but still. He had a lovely sense of humor. He was a "collector" and she's a minimalist, so she has spent time over a few years purging things. She knows I love dogs and asked whether I could rehome him--and I certainly could. Who could turn down that face? Another permanent member of the household.

So many treasures and memories, none of which will likely matter in any way to the next generation. Unless I collect these stories into a book and deliver it to all. Another project for retirement.

Snippet: On Visiting

SUMMARY: How much time do you have?

My brain automatically plays this recording through my mouth to anyone who's considering going somewhere to visit or coming here to visit. Particularly if the destination du jour is where one used to live, or where you know multiple households, or where One Has Always Wanted To Go Because Reasons.  

I know what it’s like, visiting someplace in which dozens of family and friends might be interested in getting together. The first decade or so of my marriage, we’d go to Los Angeles at least a couple times yearly to visit...

Visiting L.A. in-law relatives, 1985.
Required By Law™ when visiting: Photos.
Guess which one I am.

...His mom. His stepfather. His great aunt and uncle. His cousins. His best man and wife, his 2nd groomsman and his wife, and 3rd groomsman and his wife. A few other high school friends of his. If I were lucky, a couple friends of mine.

And although I enjoyed visiting these folks, honestly, what I really wanted to do was keep going and hit up allllll the things to see in the L.A. area (never did) or  Disneyland (did once, for one day). Ha!  We most certainly did not see everyone every trip, but it was crazy anyway. 

If Disneyland were our higher priority, we'd carefully sneak past the L.A. area, covering our faces so no one could recognize us.

What I’m saying is, would be fun to see you, but I totally get it if you’re swamped when you get here.

-------

Once again I failed at "snippet". I started with one large paragraph, so I figured: Snippet of text! Then added three sentences and a squillion paragraph breaks and, voila, result =  > snippet

Random Notes on Music and Love at First Sight

SUMMARY: While reading fan fiction online

Started from a comment I left on this chapter   In Feb 2021 (and started this post March 3, 2021). (Finished July 14, '21.)

This fan fiction was for Captive Prince, a trilogy that I am newly (March 2020) a fan of, but that I suspect has only a certain demographic of fans. Auguste is one of the characters.

About that music

I had music in my life from my earliest memories. We always had instruments in the house, including an old crappy piano. My mom still sometimes got out her old cello and played a bit, very rusty. She played the piano, too. Advanced beginner level, I'd say. I liked to pick at playing it, too: major symphonies such as Chopsticks.

In the fourth grade, I learned to play flute and how to read music. 

And I was always in the choir in most of elementary school and high school. (And in the Sunday School choir, too, I suppose simply by being there. I remember singing songs in the church at Christmas: "I, said the donkey, shaggy and brown...".)

And in band in elementary school, junior high, high, and college.

I told the story's author, "I know so many of the composers’ names and the titles of music from your story so far. I love how you weave music all through it." Told me that all those years of playing and listening to (I have albums, as did my parents...) so-called classical music paid of in a deeper experience when reading this.

This is not the albums I was referring to. But I have this, too.

I also said that I laughed out loud when I read: “Choosing a song from Don Giovanni isn’t exactly the proper way to get a girlfriend, Auguste.”  But one has to know Don Giovanni to appreciate that line in the story more fully. Fully pleased with myself.

About that love at first sight thing

Because love-at-first-sight was something that happened in the story, that I believe one of the characters didn't believe in, I noted that I believe in love at first sight. Not because it has happened to me, because it hasn’t. But I saw it happen to two male friends and their now-wives exactly the way you describe Auguste. 

Friend#1, on the day we arrived at the University 300 miles from home, while I and friend#2 were up in the dorm room putting things away, went downstairs to drive his truck to the proper parking lot. He didn’t come back for an hour; should've been about 10 minutes.  He finally walked back into the room with starry eyes and said, as I recall, “I think I’ve met the woman I’m going to marry.” After chatting with a freshman girl in the parking lot. And he did. And they’re still married. After – – 40+ years? we certainly teased him originally. 

My left arm is on friend#1; his new girlfriend's (now also a friend) left arm is on me.
Friend#2 is in the center.

But then, eight years later, it happened to friend#2, too! We were long-time friends who had also ended up working at the same company.  Over the weekend, he went to a party that included a few mutual friends. He arrived at work Monday morning, and said, "I think I’m in love." The first time they met. This is a guy who had hardly ever even dated anybody. They’ve been married now for about 38 years.

The latter couple (friend#2) with rabbit ears behind him) came to visit maybe 15 years later
with their three kids. (Me on left in colorful shirt.)

Love and music?

When I hear music, I often feel many emotions. Some evoke the feeling of love.

When I think of love at first sight, I think of music. I blame the movies. ("Love at First Sight {A Montage of Movie/TV Couples}")

And that pretty much sums up life, doesn't it?

Sister and me at Mountain Winery for a Moody Blues Concert

Back in the day

Busy on Facebook, not too much here

SUMMARY: Plus, well... photos, life, work, house, downsizing...

In an attempt to motivate myself to do something with the dogs that I have, not that the dogs that I wish were still alive (although Tika would now be 17 and boost 13...so hard to believe that it has been almost 3 years), I signed up for a tricks class--er, sorry, Circus Dog class.

Not that I don't know how to teach my dogs tricks (to wit: Remington), just finding motivation to do anything with them is so hard. Not that they're bad dogs or don't want to learn or aren't quick learners.  I think that I really still want to do agility. But it hurts. So fuggit.

But enough of that.

Instead, I've been working on firming up their Left and Right turns, and their Shake Left and Shake Right, and of course they're both excellent at nose Touch to the back of the hand. Started working on Crawl with Zorro and on walking backwards with Chip and backwards up the stairs with both of them--all of these barely begun and only occasionally worked on. But I have been doing Get In The Box since it's soooooo simple to teach and fun for others to see when they really get it down and useful for random occasions.  They're both pretty regularly getting into the very long box now. And I have one that's about 1/3 that size; would like to have one in between those sizes but don't and am disinclined to cut up one of the boxes that I have because I am in fact gradually filling them with Things To Go Away and taking them Away.

They like it.  Or the treats. Or the attention.

I had a month after I signed up to actually teach them all the tricks that are likely to be in the 5-week course so that they'd be more relaxed with familiar activities since I don't do nuthin' with them anywhere pretty much ever.  But, you know, Christmas, New Year, grieving, movies, work, whatever, rationalizing away my inactivity. We'll get there gradually through the class. Just found out that a good friend also signed up (also a former agility-champion-maker slowed down by physical limitations but who has always taught her dogs tricks and competing in a bunch more dog sports than I do), so that'll be fun, too.  Looking forward to it.

I should post some photos, since I have so many trillions. Maybe later.

The T-shirt Project

Summary: Attempting to downsize the collection. Hahahaha!

This, my dears, is what 170 t-shirts looks like when called out to muster.

I really do periodically pull out a few and give them away, but then more find me and follow me home.

For example, just went to Walt Disney World and somehow 2 more ended up in my suitcase. Don't know how it happens.

This week, Team Taj is seriously totally attempting to downsize t-shirts by A Ton. So far, "a ton" consists of 30, but that's pretty good, for me.  See, I like them. I wear them. (In as much as one can say that one wears them when one wears only one a day and only during the warmer 6 months of the year, and not even every day during those months.)  They just never wear out. For some odd reason.

But--things fit better into the bureau already. Yay! Until some other insidious t-shirt whispers my name--

Let me introduce my pretties (in the preceding piles).

Colors or patterns w/no message, Humor, Random

Activities, Events

Companies

Agility: USDAA nationals, Regionals, Power Paws, Camp

Agility: Bay Team, Other clubs and events

Agility misc., Dog nonagility oops image merge squished this pile wrong!

Disneyland

Dragons

Travel  /  tourist

More travel  /  tourist

You can see how dogs--and agility in particular--have contributed to my, ahem, scholarly collection.

Oh--prefer them organized by color? Can do!

Oooh! Oooh! Ooh! Can I show you this, can I, huh?

Do we detect a trend here? I love it! Love it! Mwah ha ha haaaaaa!

(For that image, I folded each to hide any text or images, so that you can wallow indulgently in just the colors and the patterns. Also, I pulled together almost all of my tie-dyed clothing for this one, adding to the 13 short-sleeved Ts the following: 4 polos, 4 long-sleeved Ts, 2 pairs of socks, one pair of leggings, one tank top, and one bra. And, yes, I do  know just from the pattern exactly which item is which. My preciouses...)

Perhaps later I'll show you close-up photos of all of my pretties. So many have backstories, too! Like the "Slave Labor" shirt--good friends from 1984!--

Or the "Vicon 5-0" shirt--family and long-time friends at the annual sleep-over in 2011--

Or the Power Paws Camp group of agility friends from 2004 -- "The Flying Rearendas" --

Ah, yes. But that's enough story-time for tonight, my dears. Now, off to bed for sugar-coated dreams of magical t-shirts!

Stuff I've Done In the Last Month-ish

SUMMARY: Your choice: Wordless Wednesday OR Caption Wednesday (hover over image)

>>  Visit the Wordless Wednesday site; lots of blogs. <<

Another Goodbye

SUMMARY: A very personal goodbye, indeed.

I've had the illness commonly known as depression about four times in my life. After my divorce in 2000 (and a whole slew of other things at the same time), I was lucky to find a woman in independent practice who walked me gently through my grief and pain.

But when I switched to Kaiser, I no longer had access to her.

Two and a half years ago, when I realized again that the darkness and immobility had crept in, I asked for an appointment with a counselor and they assigned me to Dan Tindle.

He worked with me for over two years, both individually and in a close-knit weekly group. Gradually, with me resisting and even kicking and screaming (mostly metaphorically) a good portion of the way, he educated, prodded, joked, listened, prodded more, asked hard questions, provided deeper insight into my approach to life, and supported me in so many ways. By May of this year, I realized one day that I just felt--happy and contented. And again the next day. And again later that week--happy and confident. I came to realize that, wow, I had completely exited the house of depression and moved into a healthy mental and emotional state. 

I retired from the group and our regular sessions at that time because I had found my firm footing and was ready to go it alone.

I went back to talk to him once in May when the young woman I knew in agility dropped dead suddenly of a heart attack and I was struggling with the grief of that and of the sudden loss of a friend's small dog. He helped me through that in a single visit; helped me to find a path for my sorrow and pain.  

I most recently made an appointment to see him on August 5th because of the sudden and rather stunning developments with my spine. We talked and I brought him up to date on my back issues and how I'm doing, which, in fact, was very well. I'm functional and calm and, for the most part, avoiding the spinning-out-of-control "Why me" and "Life will be horrible" sorts of typhoons, which I doubt that I could have done a year ago, or even 5 or 6 years ago. 

Three days after that, he died of a heart attack. Very sudden. He's about 10 years younger than I am, a big health food guy, a runner. 

I feel lost. Grief stricken. Stunned.  And I feel for his other patients as well who are still in process. Shocked. 

I think the world of him. He shared of himself and his own journey to emotional well-being as well as bringing out our deepest fears and needs and angers and pains, and helping us to find a way through them. He was funny, smart, clever, intense, honest, direct, perceptive, determined, deeply caring, opinionated, oh so much fun to talk to (well, except when he was working hard at getting me to drag out the things that I didn't want to drag out, and even so, I found it fascinating at every step, how he just knew where to dig and what to say and when--to me and to others).

I -- am stuck at where to go from here. I had been comforted by the fact that he'd be there if I ever needed his skills again. I'm angry at the universe for taking such an amazing man who had so very much to contribute to the world.  I believe that he and others in the department gave me the skills to work through this. But--

I--

Goodbye, Dan. You were wonderful. I'll miss you. And thank you with all my heart for helping me to find my life again.