Portable & High Speed

I'm feeling a bit proud of myself tonight. I'm sitting here in my cozy spot on the couch posting to my blog. How cool is that for someone living in her sixth decade? Pretty cool I guess, but not as cool as the journey it took to get here.

About the time I took my first typing class in high school, the bank where my mother worked in Albuquerque decided that computers just might be the wave of the future. She worked nights processing data on those huge, Coke machine sized, reel to reel monsters in a dust proof, climate controlled room. Data processing took up a whole floor, what with the key punch machines, printers, collators, etc. I got my first part-time job there, searching for mistakes that the keypunch operators made and balancing the run-sheets on long, green and white tractor paper that came out of the hideously loud printer. Those early computers used tons of paper and were nothing the general population could even imagine owning. And yet now I sit here with a notebook sized machine, connected to no discernible source of power, sending a message out to anyone in the world who cares to read it.

Pretty cool, but let's go back a little further. That typing class - I remember all of us girls sitting ramrod straight, each in her assigned seat in the rows of old upright manual typewriters. That first week we practiced 'A ; S L D K F J G H' over and over until our fingers cramped. Soon we learned to reach for the keys above and below and worked until we could find the keys without peeking. Then we practiced to build up speed. Women in the workplace weren't really the norm then...we just worked until we married, then our homes became our careers. Had I known what the future held, I'd have paid more attention in that typing class.

I've never been without a typewriter, be it an old Royal upright, an IBM Selectric, or one of those little Brother Word Processors that just had a Word program...you still had to thread your paper into it and print what you had typed, but at least you had the option of correcting it before printing. I didn't get my first real computer until ten years ago. I had notes plastered all over the walls with instructions on how to send an email, connect to the Internet, etc. I didn't learn about 'ctrl, alt., delete' until a friend sent some kind of weird email regarding the high heat of summer that made the picture on the screen appear to 'melt' - I panicked and had no idea how to make it stop. I learned though, and now 'ctrl, alt, delete' and 'ctrl Z' are my best friends. I'm sure there are others I should learn but those two cover most of my anxieties.

Whatever, it's been a long journey to this cozy little afternoon tete a tete with this computer. I still don't have a Blackberry, but I do have a cell phone. Texting isn't for me...my eyes are just too old to read those tiny letters and the abbreviations confuse me...it's like learning a foreign language. I know LOL, but that's about it. I watch the young girls at work texting under their desks where the boss can't see...they go so fast, their fingers fairly fly. I just sit there with my BFF (coworker my own age) and say 'OMG! How do they do that?' Then we go back to discussing our scores on Pogo.com or the latest thing we've done on Farmtown.

Things I've Learned From Cesar Millan

You all know by now that I'm giving a lot of thought to adopting a puppy next spring. In keeping with this, I've been doing some studying up on the subject. This has led to an absolute addiction to The Dog Whisperer show on the National Geographic Channel. Cesar Millan has such a fascinating approach to dog psychology. His opening line is always: "I rehabilitate dogs. I train people." Well, I don't have a dog yet but congratulations Cesar! I am becoming trained.

I first noticed that his psychology was having an effect on me after a particularly stressful day at work. I kept hearing a phrase in my head "Live in the now". Where had that come from? I was driving down the highway toward home and things around me began to come into focus. The leaves were changing color - I'd noticed that, of course - but just look at all the different colors. Beautiful. I will never again see these trees and these colors at this moment...God's wonderful pallet...it's worth slowing down and savoring. Since then, I've made it a point to notice what's around me, be it nature or people, instead of just traveling from point A to point B. I finally remembered where I'd heard that phrase - Cesar says that dogs don't think about the past or worry about tomorrow...they live in the now. How wonderful is that? There will never be another today...I don't want to miss a moment of it.

On one episode he needed to help a fearful little dog submit to medication. The animal was clearly terrified and acting out in aggression. Cesar's solution? He sat down on the floor next to the dog and waited for him to relax into a calm, submissive state. He didn't come at the dog from above him, as would be instinctive to most of us. He got down on his level and waited. Wow! Can that be applied to life! We are all frequently called upon to diffuse volatile personalities both at work and in our private lives. I've always found that a calm approach works best, but getting down to their level - showing that you understand where they are coming from - has great psychological impact. Isn't this what God did when He sent His Son to us? Everyone needs to be understood, not just patronized. If I can show you that I care about your feelings and will take the time to let you work through them without censure from me, you might just relax and we can work together toward a mutually advantageous end.

Exercise, discipline, affection...in that order. I don't have much trouble with the affection part of that equation...I love just about everybody. It's the exercise and discipline that give me fits. If I actually had (self) discipline, exercise wouldn't be a problem. Wouldn't that be great! During our years on the farm I got lots of exercise and I've never felt better. I slept well, ate well and all the pieces of life just seemed to fit together better. I'm not on the farm anymore and it definitely takes discipline to exercise. Cesar, I'm going to make conscious effort to improve in this area. I want that bright eyed, bushy tailed feeling back!

The Millan secret to handling all sorts of dog-psychology problems is Calm, Assertive Energy. Cesar can tame the wildest canine in seconds by simply letting it react to his attitude of calm, assertive energy. If you've ever watched the show, you know that this is the cornerstone of his approach. My nature is cowardly...normally I'll go out of my way not to create or participate in a situation that might make me feel helpless or afraid. I'm learning to take a deep breath and visualize myself in control. Positive mental imagery...perhaps that is the human application of calm, assertive energy. Once I visualize myself handling things, I usually find that I can. And when I do this exercise, I find that others involved pick up on my energy and treat me accordingly. In other words, when I lose the 'victim's mentality', I can become a participant in the solution of any situation. Thanks Cesar!

And now it is almost time for The Dog Whisperer to come on. I don't want to miss my weekly psychology session with Cesar so I shall end this posting. Just remember: Live in the day; get plenty of exercise; help others by remaining calm and submissive toward God; and exude calm, assertive energy when the situation calls for it. I'm telling you - the man is a genius!

Remembering Jody

Autumn always makes me think of Jody. She was a delightful little Rat Terrier that owned me for about twelve years and we had a wonderful life together. I discovered her one October when she was only four weeks old at a breeder's farm down in Arkansas and it was love at first sight. She was so tiny - a minute, absolutely fearless ball of energy. We had hogs back then and she somehow managed to befriend the sows. Perhaps they thought she was just another little pig. She never missed a meal with them...snatching kernals of corn from beneath their very snouts. They never once hurt her, but they often flipped her out of the way just like they did their own babies.

She was raised with cats and was quite protective of her feline friends. It was not uncommon to see her 'carrying' one by the scruff of the neck across the yard, even though some of them were bigger than her. Even the toms would just relax and let her do what she wanted - she could be quite bossy. I remember one time in particular a stray beagle came to visit. He was wearing a collar and I was able to contact his owner, but the man was unable to pick him up until after work that evening. Jody spent the entire day keeping her cats corralled on the porch - when one would try to leave, she'd haul it back up. If the beagle approached the porch, she'd chase him back to a spot she chose for him under one of the big shade trees. By late afternoon, she was exhausted, but still worried about her charges. She finally darted around the house into the back yard and came back carrying an old rug. She took it over and offered it to the beagle, who scuffed it around a bit before curling up on it. She then went back and brought one of her toys and gave it to him. Once he was resting on her rug, the toy by his nose, Jody felt she could let the cats off the porch. It was the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

After my children grew up, we sold the farm and moved to a larger community. Jody wasn't very happy in a town home and neither was I, so we moved again, this time out onto a small piece of land in the country. She knew instinctively that she was home just as soon as she got out of the car - that little dog ran around with a smile on her face for weeks. She had the run of the place...only the flower beds were off-limits to her, and she was very good about staying out of them. That is, she was until we met Bob, the man next door.

Bob had been widowed for several years, as had I, and we soon became good friends. Jody wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not and she began a brief campaign to keep us apart. When she saw us chatting over the fence, she'd head for the nearest flower bed and stand in it - legs stiff, a fiercely defiant expression on her little face. Of course I would have to say sternly "Jody! Get out of that flower bed." and that was her goal...she had focused our attention off of each other and onto her. She'd then trot up and look at Bob as if to say "See! Jean is my mother, not yours!" It didn't take long for him to win her over, though. He is an animal lover and, by the time we were married, she was his dog as much as mine.

I've had many dogs over the years, and perhaps I'll have another one soon. I think I'm almost ready to welcome a new puppy. But there's one I'll never forget...autumn always makes me think of Jody.

Honest Scrap Award

Thanks to fellow blogger Beth Carter who nominated me for the Honest Scrap Award. This award goes to bloggers who write from the heart. To fulfill our Honest Scrap duties, I must list ten things about myself and nominate others for this award.

Ten Things About Me:

1. I love the Lord and cherish my family.
2. I have four awesome sons, three beautiful daughters-in-law and three precious grandchildren.
3. I am a Certified Dietary Manager, Certified Food Protection Professional.
4. I have to get 44 hours of continuing education before next May to keep those credentials.
5. I procrastinate (see above) :-)
6. I am a Missouri native, although I have lived in four other states.
7. Some of my favorite authors are Jean Stubbs, Mary Higgins Clark, Harold Bell Wright, Gene Stratton Porter & Sara Donati.
8. My favorite breed of dog is the Rat Terrier.
9. I've finished writing one novel and am working on another set in the Ozarks of Missouri.
10. I used to raise hogs and cattle on an eighty acre farm with my sons.

Okay, that's it! Now I pass the Honest Scrap Award on to bloggers Barb Huddleston, Ruth Hunter and Kaye Calkins.

Rewards at the end of the day....

The drive home from work today was, as always, my reward for whatever has been required of me during the past eight or ten hours. Morning is good, but I truly love the evening - or the gloaming, as my Scottish ancestors might have said. I usually turn off the highway onto the rural roads at 7:45 PM or so and that's when the endorphins start to kick in. No more traffic...no more rigid schedule...a hot bath (or cool shower)...supper...and, best of all, my loved ones waiting there at the home place.

But there are a few little mini-rewards along the way to my haven. The old black dog, for instance, that lurks near the crossroad, just waiting for me to stop at the sign. He slinks out of the brush, keeping pace with the car until I stop rolling and the time is just right...then he barks ferociously for a moment or two before trotting back to his home, head and tail high. I've made his day, as he has mine. Occasionally he is too tired to chase me, but he is always there and I would miss him if he wasn't. And then there are the two ladies who power-walk together...I've never met them, but they are always somewhere along my route and we wave as though we were old friends. How lovely that they have each other to walk with, and how sweet that they 'include' me with their happy waves. Every four or five months, there is a new litter of kittens playing in the ditch at one of the houses...there were five this time, I think. Lovely little kitties - all different colors. They are timid and race for cover , but I catch a glimpse of them before they are swallowed up by the tall grass.

Closer to home, I stop for a few chickens who have crossed the road and now desperately want to get back - they run this way and that, looking for their coop which is right there in front of them if they would only look! If I'm very fortunate, I might see a herd of deer in the field just north of the 'chicken crossing'. How many people who live in cities would love the opportunity to see a herd of deer in the wild.

I am blessed. And I look forward seeing all of my 'gloaming buddies' again tomorrow.

Watch out for wildlife.

My trip to work this morning was more exciting than expected. As I drove around a bend in the road, two deer appeared not ten feet in front of the car...a doe and her spotted fawn. A little late in the season for a fawn that young, but what a beautiful little creature he was...and still is, thanks to anti-lock brakes. Gliding over the fence in one graceful movement, they faded into the trees and were gone. That stretch of road has always provided me with poignant sightings of our wildlife neighbors. A large flock of wild turkeys live in the timber and can often be seen with their poults trailing behind as they forage along the roadway. Occasionally twenty or more deer feed in the hayfield just down the way. A blue heron stands sentinel in the creek as he waits for his dinner to swim by, and a raccoon family's eyes reflect the headlights if I happen to drive that way after dark. I wouldn't trade my little place in the country for the whole of any city.

Ordinary days...

So far this has been a week of ordinary days. Nothing big happening, but nothing bad has happened either. My loved ones are all healthy, fed and housed, all gainfully employed, free to pursue their interests and hobbies as they please, and free to worship God without fear of censure or worse. You know, ordinary days aren't bad at all, are they. In fact, a week of ordinary days may just be one of life's most precious gifts.