Dog Momma Duties

My biological clock is ticking so loudly that I can hardly hear myself think, so of course, I did what any 27 year old baby wanting human would do, and adopted two sweet sister puppies. They are smart and spoiled and trouble and bark and chew and dig and I ADORE them. They eat my cactus, shred my paper (see below), chase butterflies, pull each other's tails, sleep ON TOP of each other, and I wouldn't trade one single second. They may not have stopped the ticking clock, but they've quieted it a little, and they make their mommy smile.

Bunny Flowers

Larkspur = Bunny Flowers

Look closely, see the bunny in the middle? My paternal grandmother, my Didi, had a whole garden full. She was amazing. An accomplished painter, gardener, and sweet sweet soul. When I was three, my Didi & Grandad gave me a huge pink stuffed bunny. I can remember them sitting it on the sofa, and all the adults watching to see my reaction. I was unsure if it was actually for me, and trying to make my three year old brain have the self restraint to not grab her and make a run for it. I spent weeks trying to come up with a name suitable for such a grand possession, only to finally realize there wasn't one. Her name would be "Bunny". That same year, my Daddy brought home a real bunny, she was white with pink eyes, and her name was Foo Foo. Foo Foo didn't last long, but my love for bunnies did, so when Didi took me by the hand one spring day, and showed me the bunny inside her funny purple flower, I was in awe.

Didi got sick, very sick, very fast, but Grandad would push her chair out into her garden so she could sit and instruct him on how to keep it. I would sidle up beside her so she could tell me which ones to pick for her bedside. She passed in the fall, too young and too soon. Grandad did his best to keep the house, and the garden exactly how she'd left it, but time turned the flowers to weeds, and the ivy took over mercilessly like a garden dictator. Twenty years later, every spring, I turn back into that seven year old, crouched over what was once my Didi's garden, waiting for the first sprouts of Larkspur. Spring still comes through all the dead of winter, and so do the bunny flowers.

This year, for the first time, I'll have bunny flowers of my own, planted in little vintage wooden planters that my Didi would have loved.

Faith vs. Insanity

I've written on faith before, but I had a clarifying moment this morning while watering my garden. I'm not sure if I clarified faith, or insanity...most likely a little bit of both. I realized as I was watering my empty, brown dirt that gardening from seeds is the perfect exercise in faith (or insanity). Every day, twice a day, I drag the hose over, turn it on, and water empty planters, with the faith that one day Ill see tiny little green sprouts. Some days I have doubts, and fight the urge to dig down a little to see if anything is cooking, but most days I just water, hum a little, and expect that one day soon my patience, perseverance, and faith will pay off with a yield from my garden.

P.S. I also realize that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result....

Life Questions...

*creeeak....blows dust off*

Goodness, it's been awhile. Thankfully, my schedule has finally given up the fight and let me win. I went from working basically all day, seven days a week, to now a normal work week. IT IS AWESOME! Im feeling more productive, *and* more creative, which makes for a happy, happy me.

I also have a few life questions I've been pondering. Maybe you can help me out here.

1. How is it possible for two puppies to make SO MUCH POOP?

2. How can gooey delicious lemon cupcakes be hard enough to cause blunt force trauma?

3. If I have so much time now, why did I have to wear damp panties to yoga this morning because there were not any clean *and* dry pairs?

4. How can I always manage to step on the *one* squeaky dog toy when I get up in the night to pee?

5. How on earth did I mistake trout for salmon? (and why the hell didnt I just take it back?)

6. How have I gone 27 years without "Douchecanoe" in my vocabulary?

I promise I have more important things to write/tell, but not tonight. Had to get back in the saddle somehow, right?