Hudini's daughters

I sent an email yesterday that sums up the cost of love
Two puppies from the Humane Society - $180
Reward for the lady who rescued the girls - $50
Horse fence to prevent climbing - $120
Extra collars and tags $30
Electric fence to prevent digging - $140
Bail from the pound $70
Having the girls home AGAIN - priceless

On the 19th Justin and I came home to find that the girls had once again vanished from the back yard. Chase was given, but the girls were too fast. I put another ad in the paper, made up more flyers and went by the pound again, only to find they had already closed for their Christmas party.

Christmas came and went, and there was no sign of the girls. I was afraid maybe they were lost - or that someone decided they were so cute they had to keep the girls. Monday came and Justin called me - the girls were on the Pound website - ready for adoption! On the way home from work, I picked up electric fence line - a task that will take a couple days work to install.

So today, I went with Jerra and we rescued the girls from the Hoosegow where they spent Christmas and missed all the great leftovers. I was prepared to pay out the $90 fee for boarding.

The staff knew the girls, seems they broke out of their kennel at the Pound as well. Made me feel better because these folks keep pens for a living!! The lady at the counter was kind, and since we had a poster there, she didn't charge me for the boarding fee.

Now they are back at home - safe and sound - and tonight I'll have the fence finished and they can have the run of the yard once again.

adoption

What is it about belonging to someone that is so important? I have this early memory, whether real or imagined, of laying on my belly on my mother's lap. I was facing the middle of the bench seat in a car with turquoise carpet and seats. I remember looking at the carpet area and I remember vividly the exact shade of that carpet and the feeling that I was hot.

It was July when my parents took me home - I was born the beginning of June and went from the hospital to a foster home until the paperwork was completed. My folks had waited a long time to have kids, and endured the pain of several miscarriages. Then they took me in and we made up a family.

In September, we were ripped from our family. I have had to endure comments that perhaps we left too soon or overestimated the threat. I didn't. It was a terrible and difficult time and once again I found myself without a family.

Then one stepped in - and filled that void that is so necessary - someone to talk with, somewhere to go, something to do and someone who cares. It is a beautiful thing - how easily we have assimilated. Though at times we are still an oddity - rough around the edges, overall it has been a really good fit.

What a blessing it is, when I think of all the people this Christmas who are alone and want a family - it is a blessing to belong, a blessing to be adopted into another family in deed if not in name.

The joy of a big family

Last night the kids and I were invited, as guests of the extended family, to a gift exchange. The parents of this large family are charming and kind and made a point to come and welcome each of us as we came in. Similarly, Jake and MorMor did the same, introducing us, checking on how we were, making sure we got in line to eat.

But we are from a big family - we know to get in line early. Everything I have missed was there - the brothers gently teasing each other - playing with the nieces and nephews; the people who knew they were related but couldn't remember quite how; married brothers and their wives, each one more beautiful than the one before; and scores of kids - everywhere. There were points during the gift exchange that you could not move across the floor without stepping on a limb. The sisters bore the demeanor of my own aunts, laughing and tolerating the affection of thier brothers - even when it came in the form of teasing.

There were nearly forty people packed neatly into a beautiful family room complete with stone fireplace, bright candles, and high ceiling. Somehow we all seemed to fit -coziness that lent itself perfectly to talking to those around you in what seemed like an intimate setting for forty.

The noise level was another thing. Matriarchal rights allowed for the use of a cow bell to get the attention of all present - and made me think this was not the first time she had used THAT particular tactic to reign in six kids. Bitty thing, the mother. She certainly had the joy of a mother who is good at being the mother, but had recovered her figure so well you wouldn't guess there had been six kids. I noticed throughout the evening those who were not familiar with the joyful ear piercing noise that goes along with big families. They could be seen ducking outdoors into the 20degree night to reclaim some peace. I think I heard it described as "a lot of stimulation". For a big family junkie - it was heaven complete with honey baked ham and topped with spicy honey mustard.

So here is to the joys of big family - where there is room even for those who are related in spirit if not by blood or marriage. Thanks to God for providing comfort that comes with belonging.

Ill Winds

It is hard to say how it creeps in, seems like wind almost - one minute you are standing in the kitchen, warm, then a chill comes through a crack in the door frame - or through a light switch. Sometimes, without realizing it- I react to things that are said and to situations like the Ogre is still here. Funny how long the brainwashing can last. About a week ago, I was talking to Justin about phone messages, I told him I didn't listen to his phone messages, that they were private. When we lived with the Ogre, we stopped listening to messages because sometimes they got erased, or sometimes he didn't get them in a timely manner, so in the house I used as my permanent address, I didn't listen to the answering machine. He was astounded - I was still living under Ogre-rule and didn't catch myself.

There are times when I catch myself concerned that if he sees my faults and the faults of my kids, he will pull away from me in disgust. I have rushed through the house picking things up - or tidied a mess that someone else should have cleaned in an effort to defray an Ogre's rage that doesn't even exist in this life. I worry about being a burden, about wearing out my welcome, about "pulling my weight". Silly that a grown woman could let herself become so entrenched in trying to stay out of trouble, trying to avoid a confrontation, that the whole way of thinking changes. I obey rules that I would never expect anyone else to adhere to. I have conditioned myself from Ogre rule to work until I cannot move another muscle and to expect that it will not be enough. That I will not be enough.

And yet, he is here each day, and he reassures me that I am enough and that what I do is appreciated. I had the odd discussion tonight with my kids that Justin has been more of a father to them than any of their fathers have been - taking us as a part of his family even when we were at our worst, assuming a husband's burden though he is no obligated to do that at all. There is no greater love than to lay down your life for a friend - giving up all you hold dear: quiet and privacy and personal space - never mind the added financial burden of adding a family-size utility bill. Funny that he thinks I do so much for him and for his life, and yet I think I'm the lucky one. I have kissed enough frogs to know that men like this don't come along more than once in a lifetime.

Redeeming the Flesh

For most of my life my body has been the bad guy. It had craved Taco Bell and candy bars, it has craved male company, it has fallen short in both shape and athleticism. It bears teh outward scars of a life lived the hard way - definitely the bad guy.

My brain knew - even back in June that Justin is someone special. I didn't know that first night - though I understood this was different from anything I had ever experienced before. Something inexplicable made me want to stand close to him, to be able to smell the scent of soap and salt from the heat. I had withdrawl when I drove home and couldn't think of anything else but the twinkle in his eyes as he talked about nothing in particular.

There was that evening by the waterfall in the pool when I told him I knew what "this" was, as though I had some crystal ball which could fortell the importance of our meeting. But my body knew.

Nestled in the crook of his shoulder, I can breathe. No matter what the day is like, I can breathe there, I am safe there.

I hold him, putting my head on his shoulder and at once I am transported from the cares of the day and I feel like I can handle anything - that there are two of us.

Feeling the heat in his hands as the hold mine to warm me up reminds me that not only am I a mother, chaufer, nurse, housekeeper and cook - I am also a woman who loves a man who loves her back. Think of the miracle in that. Someone who loves you back.

My body understands that - recognizes that, and knows that he is the one. I believe that is why the touch of his hands or his kiss on my forehead centers me - brings me back to peace and reminds me of what is truly important.

The mind can play tricks, but the body has a recongnition that is keyed into the very cells and though my mind may have doubts, my body does not. So I live to drift off to dream in your arms....