It hurts so bad. That jerking feeling your heart has when you've cried until your head hurts and your eyes feel like sandpaper. It's heartache. I think it's trying to come out of my throat, like my chest is rejecting it. I'm in a tunnel, everything is fuzzy around me and I see is what's in front of me, but I'm not focusing on it. I'm dumbfounded, lost. In a state of shock, I suppose. Last night Lee and I were snuggling on the couch and I was surprised to hear the words come out, but I told him I felt incomplete. He understood, which makes him a great person. A lot of people might have thought that was a stupid thing to feel after the loss of a dog, but he got it. I love him so much. Look out Lee, I have extra love to spread around now that my Mindy is gone. I know we have Ollie and Ruby, but my love for Mindy was different and I'm unable to feel the same for them. They don't take care of me like Mindy did. It's not in their breeds. Ruby is a hunter. She's not even supposed to be a house dog. Some beagles are house dogs, but not her. She's adjusted to me and how I want her to be, but is much happier in the yard looking over the neighborhood or running rabbits in the woods. She is not concerned with my pain. For some reason I thought she'd care that I hurt. Oliver is a lover, a lap dog, but more about getting attention than giving it. He's not very observant either. He doesn't console me while I cry. It's not true that a dog can be replaced. I expected them to cushion this blow, but this has caused them to become "just dogs" to me today. Maybe it's a defense mechanism. Maybe I'm trying to not love them so much. That would be a mistake, I know.

I laid in bed last night, beating myself up, like I so obviously love to do, telling myself that I could have loved Mindy more, that I could have given her more attention over the years. I know that's crazy talk. My life revolves around these animals like they're my kids. They get what I believe to be the best food, I find myself filling their bowl with filtered water, lol, then, I watch Ruby drink stagnant water from the bird bath/bucket or puddle....FOOL!...me or her...both, Mindy even still had a little chunk of a Milkbone I'd given her before we left in her jaw. Dr. Hastings found it and took it out. I smiled when I told Lee, "She was saving it for later", like we often joked of her doing. Not this time precious baby. Sorry. I didn't make sure you finished it. Anyway, I spoiled my dog and made sure she got the best care I could give her. Lee built her a ramp so she wouldn't hurt herself on the stairs, we got rid of her cancer, we took vitamin supplements for our joints and iron and such, and in the end we took incontinence medication and when that failed, I made sure she got a fresh blanket to lay on everyday. All of this bought us about two and a half years. You didn't die because you were sick or unhealthy. You outlived your little body.

I stopped the doctor just before he put the needle in her foot the first time. I told him I couldn't do it. Then, I remembered that I was going to be brave for Mindy and do this calmly, so I didn't scare her. I didn't want her to leave that way. I said okay and he, thankfully, didn't hesitate and she was gone. Just like that. No, I wasn't ready. I never would have been.

It was very hard letting her go. Mom came over and complained about being cold, but I couldn't shut the front door while Mindy was on the porch. I never could. When she was ready to come in, she'd come tap on the storm door with those claws I never could keep short enough. I couldn't put her in the ground. It kills me to think of her out there right now. All alone and cold. She didn't like either. I wrapped her in the blanket I thought she'd like best. It kept her warm until Lee got home and it is a little comfort to me to think she is still snuggled down in it. Lee took care of putting her in the hole and covering her for me. I keep thinking that I hear her. I hear her claws tap as she walks across the floor, or the flapping noise her ears made when she shook her head when she woke up. She haunted me last night. No, I haven't gone crazy...yet. I still felt her here, but felt the emptiness at the same time.

I told Lee that one day I may go to a kennel and pick out the perfect puppy again, like I did with Mindy. Perhaps another little red dachshund, all full of spunk and looking for a mom that can give it right back at her. We belonged to each other, Mindy and me. But it wouldn't be the same, because the next time I will know that no matter how much I love and care for that special dog, that perfect little puppy for me, one day I will probably have to watch her die and may even have to be the one who ends her life. Yes, I will be more cautious because I now know. Dr Hastings said he was sorry. I said something else that surprised me when it came out of my mouth, I said that I wasn't. I said we had a good 15 years together. It was good.


Miss Mindy Whitten
September 14, 1995
December 28, 2010

Thank you for comforting me. Now I cry for you and there is no comfort today. I remember you being there for me through the hard times. I try to remind myself that doing things this way is best because I will be there for you. I never had to feel like I was alone because I had you. You had spirit, you sparkled. I still see some of that girl in you. I get a glimpse every once in a while. That's what I try to see when I look into your eyes. But I see your struggle, too.

What? Now what am I doing? Huh?

Hate the Folgers commercial! Love the Discover Card "My name Peggy" commercial! Haha so frickin' funny! I have the attention span of a capuchin monkey. I'm finding it difficult to finish any task I begin, including this blog today. I'm embarrassed to say how long I've had this page up so far. I've got up from my chair twice already, coffee and floor check. I had to look up whether or not it was a capuchin monkey or a pacuchin monkey. Friends! Lost, completely sucked in for 15 to 20 minutes. Yesterday, I cut out aprons from my patterns, but never sewed them together. You know I can't focus, when there are dishes in my sink and our bed isn't made. I only shaved half of one of my legs yesterday. Remembered last night. I need to get up there and get them done after this blog. It takes my brain a while to wake up everyday, even though we go to bed early. It's been two cups of coffee and 10am for years, even when I worked. Yes, my brain was still in sleep mode in Birmingham traffic. If a conversation with someone, even if I find it fascinating, carries on too long, I'll drift off. No offense. I adore Lee and he says I do it to him all the time. I don't realize it when it happens. So embarrassing! Something strikes me as "shiny" and you've lost me. It's Christmas and everything is shiny, so good luck having a conversation with me unless you have on a glitter hat and a blinky light necklace. Gone running. My name Peggy....haha...cracks me up!

Sew Distracting

I didn't go out to begin Mindy's grave site yesterday. I decided to make a new happy portiere for each kitchen doorway. In the old days, heavy portieres were used to ward off the drafts between rooms. As I recall, Aunt Minnie and Aunt Cora (my pop-paw's sisters) used quilts in the winter to block off less used parts of the house to keep most of the heat in the living room where the wood heater was. I use them in the winter to keep warm air, from the dryer and the oven, in our downstairs living area. They, also, work as a noise blocker when the boys are watching an action flick, with booming surround sound, in the living room and we are trying to watch a much quieter girl movie in the kitchen. I used some beautiful fabric I bought at Garden Ridge early in the year and some corduroy remnants that Lee and I love so much. I wish I could do pretty little appliques on them before I finish hemming them. I just might! I didn't finish the sides yet, because last time I discovered it's best to let them hang and settle a day or so before doing so. I had to rip out many stitches, try and try again with the first set. Today, I'm playing in the sewing room again.

I Dream Of Tacky Confections

I always know when my sugar drops in my sleep because I have some crazy dream that involves desserts. Onetime, I dreamt of dipping Triscuits in vanilla ice cream. Yuck! Last night was particularly funny to me. I was at a party and I had refrained from eating dessert until the end of the evening when we started cleaning up. The only thing left were these horrendous little cakes, that had lanky limbs that I was picking off and eating, and they tasted so bad. They were silly looking cartoon animals. I, of course, grabbed a dog. I couldn't eat it and was totally bummed that all the good stuff was all gone. The hardtack we made in elementary school tasted better than this. It was the wrong mix of sweet and salty. Why salty? And the texture was so gross. Like eating Play Doh. If you have to ask how I know this, I have to ask, weren't you a curious child?

Holidays, Hiking, and Dogs

We had a great get-together this year with the Cranes. Not the usual tense, forced little precious moments. Everyone seemed to be glad to see each other and I didn't see any imaginary darts flying across the room. Aunt Anita had her home decorated so beautifully, as always. The food was yummy. My cheesecake fell because I thought I'd drop my oven rack down a space. Bad idea! It's always turned out so perfect, obviously by pure luck. I had no idea it could be so temperamental. I was able to stay out of the sweets, sort of, I did have a few crumbies from the strawberry cake Robin brought.

We would have like to have spent more time with Robin and Eric, but Mindy's health is declining. Travel is out of the question. I'm afraid she would wet my backseat. She seems to be constantly wetting her bed. I don't see washing her bedding twice a day for very long, so I'm afraid she may not be with us Christmas. I am increasing her dosage, but I really don't think it's going to help. I wonder if I'm keeping her here for me, but then, I'm at my wits end with walking around behind her cleaning up after her for the past three months. I tend to take the stress out on the other two dogs. I'm ashamed of it. Ruby and Oliver both came to me for attention this morning and I shooed them away. Oliver just wanted to sit on the stool next to me while I checked email. Ruby wants me to drop everything to love her. I need a break before I go clean up Mindy's bed from last night. She's laying in it and doesn't seem to have a clue that it's soaked with urine. After I finish this blog, I will go work on her grave. Lee built her a casket last week. He always overdoes everything, in true man-fashion, so it's indestructible. I think he had some time to come to terms with things while he was building it and I hope I can do the same today.

We had a another wonderful hike at Guntersville yesterday. we hiked the Terrell/Kings Chapel Trails, which circled and crossed parts of Graveyard Hill. Terrell had an old house, which appeared to be a fallen-in moonshiner's shack. We wouldn't have found it, if not for the light blue car door I spied after we missed it on the trail and turned back looking for it. The highest elevations of the trails were beautiful! Kings Chapel Trail has a graveyard with markers from the late 1800's all the way up to 1980. Most of them belong to infants and, we suspect, based on the graves nearby, young women that were unable to survive birth of their children. A lot of those were from around the 1920's. I was totally bummed about leaving my camera in the car, but we were able to get some decent pics with lee's cell.

Re: past

Allison just called me. She said she cried when she read my blog about the past. I told her not to feel sorry for me (which I assume she was), that I'm guilty of being mean to people too. You don't get treated like this without trying it on for size yourself. The one time I remember being mean to someone was to a dear friend. I felt so bad about it. Other people on the bus had been making fun of her and I participated. I was so stupid. I know it hurt her worse when I did it, cause she hauled of and slapped me for it. I think she taught me a lesson, I don't remember ever being mean to anyone again....not on purpose. Did I apologize? Can't recall. Surely. Maybe not. I will make sure she knows I'm sorry. And I told you that I've used guys like I'd been used, by 10th grade. Mostly to get over being dumped by someone I cared about. I reflect on growing up and think of it a painful. I used my 20 year reunion as therapy. A face your fears sort of thing. I don't think anyone should ever pull the in-your-face crap. How's that going to make you feel better? Hell, would anyone even know that's what your were doing? Ineffective. Love and forgive and hope everyone does the same.

Not Everything Happens For A Reason

You've probably heard me say this before. I hate it when people attempt to explain away something that they don't understand with "it was meant to be." I'm okay with not having a destiny. I'm fine with not being something special. I don't understand why people have to fit themselves into the big "what's it all mean?" I think it's how most of us are raised. When I complain to my mom about something that didn't go my way, she explains it away with destiny. I now disregard those responses and push her to tell me the truth. The truth might be that I didn't try hard enough, or that someone else was more deserving. There doesn't have to be a meaning. The truth is, you can't win them all or nobody else would get a chance, living things die or we'd still have some really bad people in our world today reeking havok, and shit really does happen in life or it or it would be mind-numbingly dull. The latter caused by much drama we create ourselves, quite possibly for entertainment. Not everything happens for a reason, we have control over of a lot of what happens to us. I should take responsibility, even if it means I was a stupid idiot and doing so shouldn't deter me from brushing myself off and moving forward. I have a habit of wallowing in shame. It's not very becoming. Neither is being oblivious to your wrongs. Maybe it takes me so long because I'm a slow learner. Dang stubborn genes.

The Past Creeps In

I can't sleep tonight. Got the dogs settled down and us all snug in our be before 10 o'clock, but once I turned off the television and the noise maker on, my mind began to wander. For some reason I'm being pretty hard on myself. Maybe I should be. Nobody else really ever grabs an opportunity to put me in check, so perhaps I do it to myself. As I lay in the darkness, I wondered if I was depressed. I visited a friend/classmate today and time with her always makes me sad because her health is so bad. No, today was a good visit. She was in good spirits. I did some thinking on my dad today. Sweet memories of how good he kept the magic of Santa Claus going for so long for me. I was probably the last kid in my class to stop believing. I was such a gullible child. I've found myself remembering things that are probably better left forgotten, such as how poor we were and how my mom let me know. She never hid stress well. The morning I took my high school exit exam, she told me we were probably going to lose our house. Fab Mom. She was a different person back when my dad was alive. I also thought about how she tried really hard to dress us nice even though she didn't have much money. When I began seventh grade, she bought me two fashionable crop tops. One had matching shorts and the other a mini skirt. It was 1984 or '85. They were really cute. Seriously. Allison and I had taken clogging classes the summer before. There were some really popular girls in those classes. They saw my new outfits the week before school started at practice. The first day of school I dressed out for gym class in the red, white & blue striped crop top with red shorts. The shorts had three white buttons on each side, sailor style. We had gym with the 8th grade girls. One of the girls from my class and her 8th grade sister were laughing with their friends and it caught my attention, because they wanted me to be aware that I was what they were laughing at. It was the shorts. They said I looked like Mickey Mouse. And so that set the mood for my high school experience. I was a dork. Two years later that crazy bitch tried to set me on fire twice in one night. She looks rough now. Life after high school must not have been so kind. I never owned any cool jeans until 8th grade. Well, I had a childhood friend that gave me a hand-me-down pair of striped Lee's, that were too big for me, but I still felt special in them...until she told my sixth grade class that she gave them to me and for some reason everyone felt the need to question me about it. The eighth grade jeans were purchased as a gift for winning the Jr. Miss Panther Profile pageant at school. Like I said they were the first cool jeans I ever had that were my very own, never worn by anyone else, but me and they actually fit. They were Lee's, also. They were dark denim, with a slightly darker paisley print on them. They had tight ankles with little one inch slits on the outside of each hem. I wore them tucked into Mom's black boots the Monday after the pageant with, I believe, a top my mom let me borrow. So, there I was, the girl with one good outfit, the school beauty queen. Yes, it went over nicely. Not hardly. I had a few good girlfriends, but it wasn't long before rumors that I was stuck up surfaced. I was perplexed. It's not like I began hanging out with a new group of friends. The popular girls that didn't win didn't befriend me. Matter of fact, they began taunting me and trying to pick fights with me. Ah, memories. I wish I could have handled it all differently, but I just didn't have the skills. Shit, I'd just learned the truth about Santa Claus!

When I was in fourth grade, I wet in the bathroom floor. I don't know why. I needed to go and the teacher wouldn't let me go when I needed to. The girl that was in the bathroom with me, ran back to the classroom and stood before the whole class telling everyone. I was humiliated. When I sat down in my chair, the boy I liked asked me if it was true. I lied. I only had one friend, Lori. She wasn't in my class. The next year I transferred to another school. Small blessing I suppose, being dubbed the girl who peed in the floor could have been bad, but don't worry there were worse things. I don't think we were quite so poor when we rented a small house in Oneonta. The school transfer was due to my parents building a new home in the Cleveland School district. I think my parents had money problems before, but the house payments were hard on them, I think. They didn't really have a choice though. The rental house had two bedrooms and 1 bathroom. My mom had Robin and then, oops, got pregnant with Lesley, like a year later. They needed space. So we moved and I was the new kid in 5th grade and Mrs. White announced how smart I was. I was dressed super dorky and this is the year I got glasses, from the eye foundation. Yes, they were terrible, but free. I look back at the pictures and I was so awkward, bad hair, my teeth were still finding their places and I was bug-eyed. No wonder I didn't have any friends. I didn't. Can't think of one in 5th grade. I still had my Lori back at Oneonta, but we were growing apart fast. Bear Bryant died that year.

We were kids. That's what I chalk all the misunderstandings, broken hearts, and slit wrists up to now. When I think back to most of the girl fights and most of the being used by boys and using them back, I just say to myself, "We were kids." Kids make bad decisions. Especially me, I was flying blind. When it came to dating, my mom just said don't do bad things, you'll go to hell. Good talk, eh. Now there are a few exceptions, people I don't excuse. My second boyfriend, was a creep that used me, took advantage of my naivety, then made fun of me behind my back, causing a fair amount of damage just before I turned 16. I don't wish him well. The guy that I was engaged to right out of high school, another winner (sarcasm), needed "time with his friends", a line I'd heard from my previous boyfriend who broke my heart, so I handed his ring back. Haha about the time Robin ran around the house with the hose pipe and sprayed him down! Not funny at the time, but hilarious now. Come to find out, he needed the break so he could bang this chick we'd been going to church with. How did I find out? When he came crawling back, I asked if he'd dated during the month we'd been apart and it all came out easily enough. Now he's still living at home with his parents at 40 trying to get disability. I've often admitted that, growing up, if there was a loser within a fifty mile radius, he'd end up on my parents front porch. There were a few good guys. The ones that I will accept a friend request from.

My wandering brings to mind a few sweet little fellas I had some fun with in college. I cheated on my non-attentive boyfriend with them. One was a great friend to me. We just weren't on the same page. He visited me after I transferred to Montevallo. I'm not sure what he wanted. I think a relationship, but he should have said something before I changed schools and got back together with someone that I'd just end up cheating on again. I know I sound awful, but around this time I had absolutely no morals. I really do feel bad about the other guy. I met him at a "ART" party. He was soooo sweet and smitten with me. So, I took him home, then saw him once more. I didn't mean to hurt him. My roommate said the rejection did hurt him. I wasn't remorseful. I had become cold. I was happy to hear he was dating a cute girl later that year. I decided to focus on my studies. I had good roommates and we shared an apartment off campus. I'd never been a drinker and I'd never done drugs, but I found myself alone every Wednesday night, because I had to walk to school so I didn't schedule night classed, but my roommates did. Broke as I was, I had a little party all by myself with iced tea and a splash of vodka. Then, I'd clean the apartment. It was the end of the semester when all four of us girls hung out one night and Wednesday night drinking came up. My neat-freak roommate said she'd noticed how clean everything looked when she came home from school on those nights. She was constantly gripping about how untidy our roomies were. All she did was complain. The one that roomed with her decided to move out and she told me to make my roommate move out. Pissed me off, cause we were close. Then, my dad set me up with Mr. Wrong and we eloped and I moved out and she was so mad because she had gotten rid of her backups.

And here I say, I regret dropping out of Montevallo and believing that jerk loved me. I hate that I believed his lies for 5 years and was stupid enough to try to have a baby with him. I regret putting myself, my body, through over a year of fertility treatments. Clomid makes you crazy, running sperm specimens to the doctor before they get cold is a treat, artificial insemination makes you feel like a lab rat, and finding out that it didn't work every month is painful. It breaks you. When I asked for a break, he decided I needed a boob job. I guess to make me a value. I didn't feel that I needed one, but I did it anyway. Not caring was a mistake because I let him choose the size. He told the doctor to make them as big as he could, short of being too big for my frame. Proportioned. I was supposed to be getting a full C, but I'm a D. I wish they were a little smaller, but it's nothing to quibble over, Lee loves them. Oh, I got the boob job for him in February of '98, told him I wanted more time before resuming fertility treatments in August and he left me for my new friend/coworker in October. They harassed me throughout the divorce, stole my tags, she had loud discussions at her desk so I could know she was talking to him, put pictures of him and his family on her desk, and drove my car to work, until one faithful day when she rear-ended me in turn lane on the way to work and management transferred her to another office. But it wasn't over. She picked at me until I left the company 5 years later. I'll be damned if she didn't show up in front of the office where I next worked. Crazy bitch! I've heard they had a messy divorce themselves, that involved the child they conceived, probably in celebration of the divorce being final. One thing. I didn't care...about any of it. I had Lee. When asked about when we got together, he laughs and says "I helped her husband move out." He did. I win!

Lee believes in me. Lee loves me. Lee thinks I'm special, and not in the retarded way :) My past made me who I am. Lee likes who I am, in spite of it. He's the best person.

Gosh, it's late and I'm not even sleepy. I'm going to be pissed at myself tomorrow morning. But I got some stuff off my chest. I didn't disturb my Lee at all, he's been snoring away beside me all along while I ramble about things that were quite possibly better left in my head. Well, there's always a delete button. Whatever, I didn't even dredge up the real dirt. Another time, then.

Below: 5th grade, 7th grade, 8th grade

Need a Dolly Fix Today

Had a crazy dream that Lee bought me a one way ticket to New Orleans, but in my dream it was a far away place, and did not plan to accompany me. Scary! He kept saying he just wanted me to be happy. We didn't have the money to be spending on such a trip, so I was sure he was just trying to get rid of me so he could be with another woman. Then, one of our old female acquaintances, recently divorced and certifiably crazy, showed up in the dream. I refused to get on the plane because I am afraid of heights, true. I hate flying. And like he could get rid of me that easy:) I pulled a pretty little white dress, that I really own, out of my luggage and gave it to the girl to marry the guy, she recently divorced, because suddenly we were at a B&B that preforms weddings. I gave her some shoes to wear, too. All the while I was worried that she would mess up my dress because it's delicate and she's not. Ugly, I know, and I'm a terrible klutz myself, but deep down, I've always felt like she had a thing for Lee, so.... It is not a good idea for a female to pay too much attention to my husband. Grrrrr! Anyway, she had a great guy and did not appreciate him and so he stopped kissing her ass and their marriage fell apart. I believe that a successful marriage lies on the shoulders of the wife. Most of the time we're the ones that have the big idea that we have to take a relationship to that level. I'm not saying marriage is a job, but it's not something that rolls along unattended. Women make a house a home. Women make most of the decisions. Women set the mood. We have a lot of power, just like we did when we were dating our husbands, and we should use it for good. A girl shouldn't think of taking care of her home and family as a job or work, she is doing it for herself, creating her world. Is your husband fed? Are your children clean? Is your house a home?

Gosh! Okay, I know I only have dogs, not kids, and my pups don't talk back, so they can't argue that they don't need a bath (the truth is in their little eyes, though), but if you're throwing a stone at me right now, you're wrong for not feeling blessed to have those children. PS my dogs are clean and, surely you must know, my husband is full. They appreciate it.

Oh yeah, the dream. I know that if I don't care for my husband, someone else will or will pretend to until they take him from me. I do fear the grass looking greener in another pasture, so I make sure my act is hard to follow. And I have a gun.

Commercials

I love the Snickers commercials. I love Snickers bars. I think they are the perfect candy bar. Chocolate, caramel and peanuts. The only candy I like as much is peanut M&M's. I like the Betty White one the best because she's such a spitfire, but the Aretha Franklin one is good, too. I'm afraid that little fella may be diabetic though. I like the Capital One, "What's in your wallet" vikings, and the Progessive girl makes me chuckle, except for when she accuses the guy of expecting discounts for agreeing with her. She's turned up on some television show I watch here lately...she was on the episode of Men of a Certain Age that I watched tonight. I hate the Zaxby and State Farm commercials....they make me want to hurt myself a little. Zaxby's has the worst food I've ever put in my mouth. The State Farm "ask you neighbors" guy is so annoying, smug and gets my attention because he looks so strange. The cafe really makes me want to claw my eyes out. I never thought I'd dislike a spokesperson as much as the AllState guy with the deep voice, not Mayhem....I love Mayhem! Mayhem cracks me up so hard! I found the Target Black Friday training lady hilarious. Geico is always a hit with me.

Haha Ralph Macchio is on Psych.

Jingle Bell Run and Hair Tragedies

We had a great weekend in Birmingham with robin and Eric. I did better that I expected I would in the Jingle bell Run on Saturday. I finished 39:07. I actually jogged more than walked! I haven't done much jogging. When Allison and I were preparing for it, we never walked more than 2 miles and I only worked in 3 jogging laps. I hit the exercise bike here at the house several times a week. It's been my go to for staying in shape for the past 3 years, but it doesn't have anything on a track. Out of curiosity, mostly, I visited the track yesterday to see what I was capable of. I didn't time myself, I just wanted to see how much I could run. I did 12 laps and only walked 3 of them. Surprise! I'm in better shape than I thought. Didn't even feel like I pushed myself, so I still climbed on the bike when I watched Desperate Housewives. I shouldn't have told Lee. He got worried because he saw where Kelly Ripa got a stress fracture from working out. I hate that for her, she loves her workouts. Robin ran behind me the whole race. I can't be convinced that she couldn't have passed me if she wanted to, preggers or no. She has been running for a year now and I only started a month ago. Next...Red Nose Run!


Lee was hating on my mismatched running clothes and my tucked in shirt. I figured an explanation was in order: I was being festive and I had to tuck my shirt in because I got a large so I could sleep in it comfortably.



See how white my hair was before I added low-lights.


When we got home Sunday night, we had a message from Lee's half sibling's mother. I asked Lee to call his brother to let him know we probably wouldn't be able to come Christmas because we have lunch at Momma's and family staying with us, but he hadn't got to it yet. I returned her call, explained the situation, but she didn't take the excuses seriously and pretty much plans to see us at 5:30pm on Christmas. She's great! I think it is so sweet that she wants Lee to be a part of their lives. The whole bunch is just as sweet as they can be. I warned that we might be bringing our company along.

I haven't done much with my hair this summer. Practically let it grow out to the natural color with a few highlights. I thought it was such an ugly color, but it was easy. As the grays appeared to overtake the top of my head, I decided I'd had enough. It took two weeks to finally get it like I like it. Ugggghhhhh! I do hate change. Two foil sessions, a box of color, another highlight pull through the cap, and a final box of color! Geez! Just to get it back like it was before I stopped doing the color with highlights. I hate the cheesy Folgers commercials.

Paula's Home Cooking makes my sugar drop just watching it. I love watching her cook. She's a hoot! Think I'll bake something today. I need a pickle to get this under control, Paula.

Mindy had a good weekend. Bad day Monday, good yesterday (well, except for the moaning she was doing in her sleep), but not off to a good start today. She makes me tired. I took her out a while ago and she pooped when I brought her back in. I'm cried out, hopefully I've accepted what will happen, so I won't take it so hard, and I will be able to do what she needs me to, if necessary.

I want to decorate outside, put up lights on our shrubs and on our pergola, but it's just too frickin' cold all the sudden. Feels like winter, aye!

Think I'm going to see what kind of trouble I can just get into inside today.

I'm Sad

I cry over Mindy every day. I cry because I will have to put her down soon. After a day of cleaning after her, I go to bed thinking about it. I wake up thinking about it. It's exhausting. It's depressing. I wonder why I am doing this to myself. I know that nobody can help me with this decision. Hell, why would they want to. No one wants to be responsible for killing Mindy.