I've been a bit neglectful on this site.  I've been at my other site more often.  It is so much easier to navigate - but I like the community here.  Maybe I'll get back on track. 

I have been twittering – and following others on twittering. Some seem to be other women at home twittering away - just like me.  Others I follow are of the more serious, intellectual sort.  Such as politics in Minnesota, Voice of the Martyrs, etc.

I want to follow them; really I do, because there is good information there.  But they follow me back!  That’s okay… but I’m afraid I’m going to be a disappointment.  Voice of the Martyrs followed me back – and said they’re interested in getting to know me.  Well, okay.  But I just twittered on Red yelling “Poopy!”  Is that really what they want to follow?

I do have a brainier side to me.  Although I’d rather channel that goofier side- it’s far more relaxing.  I can think – but honestly I like to laugh more. 

Sometimes I’ll have friends who will ask me something – and say something like “well it was on Dobson yesterday.”  Really?  I don’t listen to Dobson.  I don’t think I have anything against him. It’s just that when I deal with mental health and legal issues for my job, I don’t find it relaxing to listen to the same things in my “off” hours. 

Same way with TV shows – I don’t watch those tear jerking “I lost my child” “I was a battered wife” anything with foster care or adoption, etc.  Which leaves out most of the Women’s Network movies off my list. 

I watch reruns of M*A*S*H*, Andy Griffith, Seinfeld.  I like Life with Jim (I think that’s the name), Everybody loves Raymond (although the wife drives me a little bats).  Anyway, you get the idea – funny sitcoms.

Or romantic movies.  I can watch Pride and Prejudice over and over again.

As I’m rambling… here is another thought.  Which is what I intended to talk about when I started rambling.

Red.  He is a wild, wonderful, feisty, happy little boy.

I have “friends” who suggest – openly and with conviction – that he is ADHD.  I say loudly (in my head) SHUT UP!!  He’s four.  All four year old boys are ADHD.

Except at AWANA when I see one little boy, slightly younger than Red, standing quietly and obediently next to his mother.  I don’t even bring Red to AWANA.  I must have my hand constantly on him because the moment he feels any release, he’s OFF and running.  Usually with maniacal glee and calling “can’t catch me!”  I can, and I do.  But I’d prefer not to run.  Not in church and not in front of those other mothers with their well behaved children.

Sigh.

I made the mistake of discussing this with another mother at church.  Why do I do that to myself?  I have puzzled over that, and Sir asks me the same thing.  Answer?  I have absolutely no idea.  I have to stop doing that.

Okay.  So I discussed this with another mother.  You know what she said?   “well, the sins of the fathers….”  She knowing, that Red is adopted, believes that the sins of his parents are placed on Red and this is being manifested by Red’s “sinful” behavior.  Hmmm…   she said this before when he was adopted; something about being careful of his spiritual “history”.

I realize as I type this she sounds like a real nut case.  She’s not.  But I still disagree.  Unfortunately, it took me by surprise and I was unable to come up with a spiritual “raspberry” of sorts. 

So upon returning home I did my little bit of research.  This didn’t take too long. Yes, there is scriptural reference to “sins of the fathers.”  Exodus 20:5. I believe that she has wrongly interpreted this section, especially since we know that we cannot pay for another’s sins – only Christ can do that for us.  So to say that Red’s behaviors are caused by his birth parents’ sins would be incorrect. NOW, I would say that if that sin entailed drinking alcohol, using drugs or other physical behaviors that would effect a developing fetus – yes, THAT sin would be visited upon Red as a consequence of the parents’ sin. 

So Red is wild.  I think this is a combination of his genetics (not sins) from his birth parents, and with my undisciplined self who hasn’t bothered to make a concerted and ongoing effort to train him. 

So:  genetics or environment?  Hmmmm….. poor kid, he hasn’t a chance.

Oh, but we love him.  He is a wild, gleeful boy. 

He would lay awake at night wondering if there really was a dog.

Kellie got a new puppy that she named “Clara.”  Quite frankly I couldn’t believe it (those of you who know me will understand – those of you who only know me in cyberspace – too bad!  Lol).  Anyway, it got me to thinking of the dogs I’ve had over the years – and some of the dogs my family has had – and some very odd names.  Of course none of them were named Clara!

My first dog was a poodle. I remember distinctly the day I got him.  Mom and Dad had taken me to a home where they had… poodles.  One sat on my lap.  It wasn’t a puppy, it was several months old, and it was the one I took.

I tried to name him Charlie.  Dad kept calling him Goliath.  He growled at Dad and any other man that came around.  He only growled when I was around.  I remember once I came home after some evening activity and Goliath growled at Dad.  Apparently Goliath sat on Dad’s lap quite often (which I didn’t know) but when I came home he would jump off and turn around and growl at Dad.

I had Goliath for many years.  He died when I was in college.  It was winter and he went outside to do his duty – and never returned.  My Grandpa said that he probably knew he was dying and just went away.  That spring I looked all over for signs of him – couldn’t find anything.  He was a great dog.

The next dog I had was another poodle. I had finished and went back home to Mom and Dad.  I got this little fluff of a puppy – apricot poodle.  And then real soon – must have been almost the next week – I went to Alaska to work at a fishing lodge (another story, another time) and left my puppy in my parents’ care.  I could only communicate with my parents via mail.  One day a letter came:  Dear Brownie, we fell in love with your puppy.  We’ll get you another one.”

How dare they!  Well I was in Alaska for three months or so.  I flew back home and Mom and Dad met me at the airport with my cute little fluff of an apricot poodle.  It hadn’t changed a bit! 

Wait a minute… it’s the same size!  I looked at Mom.  “Didn’t it grow?”  She smiled and said – this is a different one from the same mother.  We left yours at home and brought you this puppy.  If you want the other one you can have it – or you can have this puppy.

I kept the puppy and named it Nushagak.  Nushagak is a river in Alaska.  It wasn’t the river I was on - I was on the Nuyacuk; but I thought that was a funny name for a dog.  I ended up just calling him Nushie. 

Nushie was a great little dog.  I think a bit near sighted which caused for some humorous incidents –like trying to walk through a glass door at motel.  Nushie was the dog I had as an adult – he moved with me and lived with me at every place I was as an adult.  He lived with me in Montana, back to Minnesota, to North Dakota, back to Minnesota, and then moved with me again when I married Sir.  I had Nushie for 15 years.  Nushie became blind and I think he just hurt a lot – he’d whimper a bit when I’d pick him up.  I’d scrambled eggs for him to eat because his food was too hard.  I decided I needed to put him down. I took him and held him while he was put down.  He just sighed and was quiet.  He was such a great dog.  I buried him in our yard, wrapped in an old robe of mine. 

I had Nushie for about two years before I bought another dog. I’m not sure what it was.  It was smaller than a poodle, didn’t shed, and had wonderful long white hair – and it was fast!  I named her Amaryllis – and just called her Ryllis.  I had her for about six years.  She and Nushie had a couple of litters of pups.  She also met her fate during the winter.  It was night time and I’m sure the driver didn’t see her against the snow and she probably didn’t even make a bump.  She was a wonderful dog.  She use to lay across the back of the couch looking out the window. 

Now we have Blackie and Tess.  (Tess the second – a bichon that thinks she’s an outside dog – won’t stay in the house).

Before that we had Goldie and Harley  - a big dog: half lab, half rott.  This was a great dog until he turned on me and ripped my arm apart.  I have pictures for anyone who is not faint of heart.

Okay – I suppose that’s a nice long boring recitation of the dogs in my life –and I think there were a few more. 

Oh yes.  That puppy that my parents kept?  They named it Harriet.  I think it lived for about 15-16 years, too.

Then my parents got Emma – a boxer.  The most odiferous dog I’ve EVER had the misfortune of being with. 

Hmmm… some day I’ll blog on our pigs… let’s see there was Henrietta, Sweet Lips…..

We are waiting for the coming blizzard. It’s supposed to hit around 6pm tonight and go until Monday.  We’ve had very little snow so far this year but December has been very cold.  

I like blizzards – as long as we are home.  It is a cozy feeling:  being snowbound and unable to go anywhere; being in a warm house with snow swirling and whipping around outside.  We have enough food, and enough yarn to keep Blondie and me busy!  We have movies to watch – hmmmm….. maybe “It’s a Wonderful Life” tonight. 

We even have extra gas for the generator in case the electricity goes out (not that we’re expecting that to happen, but it pays to be prepared).

I remember a couple of years ago when the electricity DID go out for 5 days in our area.  Ice storms wrecked havoc on the lines.  Sir hooked up the generator and we were fine.  It was awful weather out:  we couldn’t go anywhere and no one else could either.

I was a bit embarrassed though.  Most people hook up the generators to keep the essentials going – furnace, freezer, etc.  A lot of people started to huddle together in one room. Some had wood stoves to keep warm – but few lights. 

But my Sir hooked up our whole house.  So other people were having difficulties with no electricity – we were warm, watching TV and eating fine.  We did keep the lights to a minimum to not broadcast our fortune.  As soon as the roads were passable, we drove the few miles to bring Sir’s elderly aunt to our place.  She had been warm with her wood stove – but was glad to be with us. 

So hopefully this storm will just be the “pleasant” blizzard that will keep us cozy.