COUNTING SHEEP TO STAY AWAKE

There are several things that I have promised my self I would never, EVER do.

I would never take illegal drugs - I saw what it did to my older brother.

I took my last alcoholic drink in 1974 - I saw what it had done to my older sister.

I would never get addicted to painkillers or prescription drugs - ditto my mom.

I would never allow myself to be romantically involved with Richard Nixon (just to see if you are paying attention still).

And I would never ever ever fall asleep at the wheel.  It always seemed ludicrous that people could drive past the point of safety, fall asleep at the wheel and crash and burn (or worse, cause someone ELSE to crash and burn).

I mean, aren't people smart enough to know they are falling asleep?!

I had almost done it once before. I had driven from Michigan back to where I was going to college in Provo, Utah. I was twenty  minutes from home - twenty minutes - and I was exhausted and weary but also dying to get to my own bed for the first time in weeks.

I, thank goodness, finally realized that I was beyond any kind of state to be driving - forced myself to drive to the edge of the road and closed my eyes for 10 minutes... and then drove the rest of the way home without harming myself or anyone else.

However, TODAY....

I don't even really have a good excuse. I hadn't slept really well the night before, but I knew Joy and I had to be up in Tucson before 10:30 - so I was yawning and stretching and driving, and almost before I knew it....

... I MUST have actually gone into one of those micro-sleep moments. Because then I felt completely awake, like I had just gotten up after a good night's sleep.




So the question is - since I drove the rest of the way up there and back completely alert and safe and good driving and all that - maybe falling asleep at the wheel is a GOOD thing?!

LET IT SNOW LET IT SNOW LET IT SNOW!

Arizona has a certain reputation.

Dry - desert - cactus - sand - and hot. Hot. And hot.

People always seem to combine the idea of the Sahara, Mojave and Las Vegas, and that becomes Arizona.

So it's interesting when people discover that yes, we have trees (mesquite, mainly, I will freely admit), snow-capped mountains, below freezing temperatures. We're not all desert.




But when actual snow falls....

Well, us Arizonians go slightly nuts.




Schools close, army bases empty early, evening activities are cancelled. And we go outside and take photos - and build mini-snowman with our children (6" tall max).

And keep our fingers crossed that everything will be closed tomorrow too.

PUPPY LOVE

Some people see a loose dog on a highway, slow down some to avoid it, and then drive on.

Some people actually do speed up, and try to hit it.








And some people stop, leave their vehicle by the side of the road, and risk life and limb trying to catch the dog and get it back with its owners.





Thank goodness for the last type.

PREPARING TO DEFEND MY CHOICES

I haven't had great experiences with book clubs. I've belonged to book clubs that are judgmental, rude, limited, and/or completely illogical. I've organized book clubs myself that turned out to be a major mistakes.

Sometimes they work, and sometimes they don't.

I belong to a wonderful book club now. They are kind, considerate people who have a wide interest in literature - we have read biographies, current affairs, literary 'classics', current novels. We have great discussions (after talking about our personal lives for the first hour, of course).

But my reading suggestions have been met with... well, less than an enthusiastic reception.

A few of the books I've chosen, I guess I can understand why people don't get thrilled about.

I only read William Faulkner's "The Reviers" because it was one of the last books on my parents' bookcase  that I hadn't read - and yes, it took me probably five tries to get past the first chapter.

But I was there to tell my book club members' that the rest of the book was worth getting through that first completely incomprehensible beginning.

Yeah, "Dune" by Frank Herbert is hard-core science fiction -- but I love science fiction, and this is just a great book!

So I'm playing it safe this month was "Travels with Charley" by John Steinbeck.

Oh, you say this is the same author as "Tortilla Flats"? "Grapes of Wrath"? How could Steinbeck possibly write an 'easy-read' book?

I'll be extremely surprised if anyone else has actually read it.

FEELING HAPPY AND LUCKY AND GAY

A common platitude in the LDS church is that our teenagers today were "saved" to live in these perilous times, offering the supportive concept that they are strong enough, unique enough as spirits to withstand all the sin of this time.

(And by this logic, it seems to imply that previous generations were weaker, more easily manipulated, more prone to mistakes - and these are the people passing on these clichés!).

But if our youth are "more valiant", could this perhaps be the reason new and more unique methods of sin are developing?

The pioneers didn't have to worry about internet porn - WWII time-frame wasn't caught up in Twitter mania - every the radical 60's idea of revolt involved only denim, hair that was longer than the collar, and the music we now listen to as soft rock or Muzak in the mall.

And perhaps is this why individuals who are obviously "born" gay are also being 'saved' for today?

I don't know if it's simply because being a homosexual has become more politically correct in the last forty years, and if anyone who was gay in the past then simply remained very much stuffed in their closet by public pressure.

When I was growing up, I do remember some bachelors who had great taste in fashion - there were a couple of tough ladies who lived together - and it seemed that in most grades there was one effeminate boy who got picked on a lot.

So why today does it seem to be so many young men who simply stand out as gay - the slim build, the good looks (yes, it is true; every handsome man is either married or gay), the tone of voice, the dressing standard - even in very traditional LDS families? And not as many, but some young women simply don't want to deal with men, but with another woman?

I propose a theory.

As the LDS church teaches it, we are brought here to earth in order to gain a mortal body, to be tested and tried, and to learn the lessons necessary for us to return and live in Heavenly Father's presence for eternity.

And, as I was explaining to my older brother the other day, we are subject to periods of illness or our 'declining' years perhaps not as a test for ourselves as much as a chance for those around us, responsible for us, to prove their character in caring for us.

Might not this be an opportunity for those of us around these 'potential' gay youth to show/learn respect for others, tolerance and love for those who may not agree with us? Could these 'choice spirits' be the ones who aren't sent here to learn, but are sent here for US to learn? And accept? And love?

MISSING PUPPY

As I have previously noted, my dog Cissy is an uncontainable bag of energy.

She will race in huge circles, much like the greyhound, as long as you keep encouraging her (i.e. shouting and waving at her like a lunatic).

She will fight valiantly against your footware as long as your toes are willing to wiggle.

When I take her outside, she runs back and forth between the horses and the goats non-stop for as long as I'll let her.

Yes, medication has been recommended.

But when I am unable or unwilling to take the time to walk the dogs, Cissy takes herself for a brisk stroll (at a dead run the entire time, I am certain) somewhere in the surrounding area, and is gone often for more than an hour.

She is off on one of these expeditions at the moment... which is one of the reasons I have time to write this!

Hopefully she will return soon with a trophy-worthy caribou or grizzly bear being drug behind her.

I'll keep you posted

HISTORY OF A CISSY

Over a year ago, I was looking for a dog to replace my chocolate lab, whom I had given to my oldest daughter. A friend of a friend emailed they had a German Shepard cross up in Tucson that obviously 'needed some room to run.'

They brought down a Border Collie cross who was, in one simple word, INSANE with energy and personality and energy and wanting more and more fun. Since they'd driven all the way from Tucson, and the dog was obviously WAY too much for an apartment dog, I said, sure, let's see how she does here.

How did she do? She peed on the carpet, she jumped on EVERYthing, she raced, she ran, she chased. When she slept, she slept like a log. But when she was AWAKE, she was, well, like I mentioned before, INSANE.

I don't know why I kept her. It was obvious, and the Tucson couple mentioned,  that she had been mistreated - it took almost a full week before I could pet her without her trembling. She was overjoyed with every single aspect of life - but also oblivious to discipline, correction or any normal avenues of dog training.

Her name had been Misty, which I felt was incorrect immediately. But she was spooked by almost everything - noises, sudden movements, other animals - she was definitely a sissy. And I can't spell anything the way it is supposed to be. So Cissy it became.

So I have a theory - or a story.

This dog, one of a fairly large litter puppies, was while not quite the runt, one of the smaller in the bunch. She was separated from her mother a bit too early, and given to a young married couple who thought she would be an adorable sort of lap-dog. And in the process of discovering this little ball of energy was ANYthing but a lap-dog, a lot of punishment was doled under the guise of being training. She was scatter-brained enough to never associate the peeing with the punishment, and ended up in the animal shelter.


But, in this fairy tale, she was then brought to a wondrous land called Palominas, and given eight acres to run and run and run across, and EVENTUALLY learned NOT to pee on the carpet...


Well, the carpet was REMOVED and replaced by hardwood floors, but the peeing still is an occasional difficulty.

And the INSANITY is still there.

DEPARTMENT OF REDUNDANCY DEPARTMENT

I often joke that one of the advantages of having Alzheimer's is that every time you see a movie or read a book, you're still surprised at the ending.

I'm guilty of seeing movies again and again and again.

And I read books until quite literally the cover is worn away.

I don't think it's completely my poor memory.

If the writing/directing/acting is good/outstanding/unique, I simply like seeing it again. I don't get easily bored - I can appreciate the performance each time.

I love romantic comedies - the girl always get the guy.

I will listen to a song I love over and over and over; I don't seem to ever get tired of it.

Or is it simply trying to have some control over my life?

I can't stabilize most things - I can't control my brother's infection - I can't decide if my husband's job is going to be there next week. I have had horses die, I have animals become ill, I have lost people in my life.

Friendships change - relationships change - change is the only constant.

But "While You Were Sleeping" will always make me smile - "Lord of the Rings" will always put me right into Middle Earth - George Michael's "Father Figure" will always have me singing along.


Maybe it's a good thing.

HEAD OVER HEELS

LET'S GET IN THE CAR AGAIN, SHALL WE?

I've driven quite a bit.

I began driving when I was around 12 - and no, it wasn't legal at all.


My first year of college was over 300 miles from where I grew up.

Then I moved about 2,000 miles more.

So I got accustomed to driving long distances

Some commutes to work were short - I even had a couple of jobs which I could walk to.


Some were pretty long; perhaps not in miles, but often over an hour driving time. D.C. especially was almost always guaranteed to be at least 45 minutes, even when it was less than 30 miles.



People who live near me do complain about having to drive 20 minutes to even get to the city limits of the nearest town.

And I admit to complaining to having to drive up to Tucson nowadays, which is only a bit more than 100 miles one-way.

But guess what.

Someone is going to do it for me tomorrow.

And I'm grateful.