Some Lessons are Never Learned

If you've read my blog our know us, you know that we have a chocolate lab named Sugar.  We love her very much!  She has turned us into "weird dog people."  John Allen selected the parents Sugar would come from and we patiently waited for her to be born.  I will never forget the day John Allen brought her home.  She was such a sweet little bundle of brown fur.  We knew from the first day that she was special.  It wasn't long until the hunting plans he had for her turned into plans to snuggle with her on the couch!  We have spoiled and babied that dog!  I know I sound like I am talking about a human child, but for now, she's all we have (except for Lucy, which is a whole other subject).

Well, we have always wanted to take very good care of our Sugar!  We never wanted her to eat people food!  Apparently, this doesn't suit our furry baby, because in the five years we have had her, she has eaten everything she possibly could!  I could write a book.  Each time, we worry until we know she's going to survive her binge.  I have decided that ignorance is bliss, because now that John Allen has some veterinary knowledge, we are more aware of the risks each time she does it.  She always does it again. . .

Tonight,  we went to dinner and then I rode with John Allen to the school so that he could take care of some patients.  While I was waiting, I was talking to someone about all of the things Sugar has eaten.  Low and behold, when we return home, I see the food tub in the middle of the kitchen floor with the lid off.  SHE HAD EATEN TONS OF FOOD!!!  Her food has been in this Rubbermaid tub for years and she's never been able to get into it.  She finally succeeded.  She's waddling around like a blimp with legs.  It hurts my heart!  I hope she feels better tomorrow.  When will she ever learn? 

I am turning 34. . .there, I said it!

This picture was taken a little more than a month ago. I have posted it for a couple of reasons: first, I don't have many recent pictures of myself since I am apparently the only one in this household who knows how to operate a camera, and second, the race number on my shirt says it all. . .I will be 34 in a few days!

I just got home from spending time with some sweet friends to celebrate one of their birthdays. She turned 23! Now, I knew these ladies were slightly younger than me, but when I heard that, I felt a little like Rip Van Winkle must have felt when he awoke from his looooong nap! Did I sleep through something? When did I get older?

I currently happen to feel that I am in the best shape of my life. I feel healthy, energetic, and well, sortof young! I still feel young enough to shop at the cool stores, although my swimsuit has a little extra fabric on the bottom half this year! Obviously I am "hip" enough to "hang" with the younger ladies, but see, I just said "hip" and "hang" which totally puts me in a crowd with geezers! I still love to learn the latest dances (my students taught me how to Dougie), but when I spontaneously break into dance, I do the Cabbage Patch! My youth is fading and I think I'm on my way up that hill that I will eventually "go over!"

I am truly struggling with the actuality of my age this year. 34 just sounds old to me! I remember when my mother was 34! It all hit home today as I was listening to the iPod that I share with my husband. A familiar tune began to play. . .one that I have heard so many times but never really listened to the lyrics. . .

He turned 35 (which is just one year away from 34) last Sunday,

in his hair he found some gray. .

He's got young friends into new wave,

but he's just too friggin old. . .

He's and old hippie and he don't know what to do,

should he hang on to the old,

should he grab on to the new,

He's and old hippie, his new life is just a bust,

He ain't trying to change nobody,

He's just trying real hard to adjust.

How depressing! The rest is about Vietnam and stuff so it doesn't really apply to me. Anyway, I'm going to go count my wrinkles, pluck a few gray hairs, but THEN I am going to get a good night's rest (it does take more hours than it used to), because this OLD HIPPIE doesn't plan on being too friggin old for anything yet! I have too many miles to run and experiences to experience! Fo shizzle my manizzle. . .just speaking the language of my youth!