Happy Comes From All Around

Where did my happy happen this week?

Was it at Elkin park, where a little girl was equally thrilled with a princess dress and what might be termed a little boy's toy dinosaur that transformed into a truck?

Was it when I finally packed the last piece of chicken into a freezer bag and could acknowledge the accomplishment of moving my old layers from the backyard toward the pot?

Was it the dog that crunched my finger last week, coming up to jump on my leg just four short days after arriving for what we hope will be a step in rehabilitation?

All of the above.

Before acknowledging happy, however, I have to admit to one moment of stabbing pain at the much anticipated birthday party. For two weeks the date had haunted me -- the last time I saw my son, Ethan, alive -- at his niece's fourth birthday party was one year behind us when this year's party rolled around. I looked at my parents and had the mental thought that they were missing something, like something had been forgotten, and I realized it was my son who had rode with them for the last year of his life to family events, having lost his license and car (and very nearly his life) in a drugged driving crash. I took a few deep breaths, focused on what I do have, and went on.

I tried to avoid giving the date too much power, but after being blindsided by his absence a time or two in the past, I think I was wise to have done my worrying and mental preparation ahead of time. It was another family gathering and he wasn't there. I ate an extra hot dog, stripped to just ketchup, thinking of him.

So besides celebrating the dichotomy of my granddaughter's personality and my debatable dog whispering skills, where else did I find joy this week?

4. PiYo. After a four-day break that didn't really want to end, I forced myself back into my daily PiYo routine. Yes, it hurt, but I was glad to quickly feel the familiarity with the routine returning. I still hate that I cannot get to a live class, but I'm enjoying a fitness routine that fits in my small open space.

5. Realizing that I had survived the party, without a breakdown, without making my E1 feel like the ghost of her Uncle Ethan had made me sad. It wasn't hard beyond the moment, and I know that each one that comes will loom as a marker of the time we've been apart, then pass a bit easier than I expected. Only eight months into my grief journey, I recognize this as how my life will be. The dread of missing him at a time he should have been there, then the date passing without falling apart (I hope) and life going on.

6. Being the first adult to hit the pool at a birthday party and having fun with my little people and a middle school boy who broke my heart when he put on his glasses, because I saw my son in the misfit youngster. Yes, the water was cold and chlorinated, while my little pool is salt, but I was happy to have the energy to play with the children and race them to the restroom instead of huddling in a lounge chair.

7. Zumba class, even if it is just working out with a bunch of strangers. I did exchange a few words with one, who turned out to be my daughter's mail carrier. Plus I'm learning the routines and knowing where to step next always makes it more fun.

8. Getting back in my pool after chilly nights and lots of rain. The girls and I had a great time (and another workout).

Look for your happy. Whatever is going wrong, or right, don't miss the good times. You may need the memory for another day. I know sometimes I do.

Raining, Rabbits, Dogs and Cows

I had been crying just moments earlier.

It's something I often do when I'm in the car alone, especially after dark. Don't ask me why.

I think grief gets into the back seat when everyone else gets out. It hides in the floorboard like a carjacker, waiting for the perfect song on the radio, the random memory of another trip down roads I've traveled for so many years, and then it launches itself at me, grabbing me and shaking me and making me wish sometimes that I could go ahead and join my son on his journey beyond life instead of continuing to grapple with the pain of his death.

That depth of pain subsides quickly. There is too much to live for. Three little girls and right now too many dogs who need me. Life is good and I haven't done all I mean to do yet.

But I'm left with the tears.

Then I rounded a curve on my homeward journey and happy happened.

I wound up sitting in my unmoving car at 10:30 p.m. on a rain soaked night, laughing.

There was a little bunny in the DOT mowed grass at the side of the road enjoying a quiet evening snack and my SUV completely ruined his meal. He was like a Mexican jumping bean hopping wildly in every direction. He jumped two hops one way and froze, then jumped the other. I couldn't drive without risking that he'd choose to run under the car and I didn't really want to go on any way.

I sat and laughed at him until he disappeared into the taller grass, then thanked God for sending me a happy moment and finished my drive home, the tears banished for the rest of the night.

My happy this week has been in many ways much like that bunny, something that has appeared unexpectedly out of the dark and banished the blues for a period of time. Much of it has also involved animals, not a shock since my life is largely animals and little girls, but all the same....

2. New lion cubs at the NC Zoo. We were just there a few weeks ago and the two lions were the most visible they've ever been. The lioness, Mekita, was on her back in the sunshine, one leg kicking in some random dream. On July 30 she gave birth to four cubs. The birth announcement came a few days later and seeing the picture of mom and babies stretched in the straw made me smile.

3. Deer, slipping quietly across a dusky road before me. Because of my schedule and the heat, dog walking comes at the tail end of the day. One evening, just as we stopped to turn around, I watched a doe silhouetted against the sunset as she slipped across the road at the top of the hill beyond us. When we neared the house, more deer seemed to float across the road. Only Willie and I saw them, the bigger dogs oblivious until we were close enough to catch their scent, but they were long gone by then.

4. A frightened little dog coming around to trust. Last week I was tending my best friend's dogs as she was gone to the beach and she had just brought home a new one who, for some reason, was prone to barking and growling although not actually snapping. Even though she is a mini-dachshund, I didn't want to be bit and she did put on a really good show of ferocity each time I had to handle her the first two days. By the last two, she was greeting me with a wag of her tail and no more defensive posturing.

5. Salon pas. Seriously, my carpal tunnel has been killing me this summer and my good friend said she'd heard salon pas patches recommended for other sufferers. I stopped and bought a box of the house brand at Walgreens and after two days of grooming this weekend, found relief that ibuprofen had not delivered. Sunday night with one on my wrist at bedtime, I slept far longer than normal without waking early to that arm on fire sensation I've become accustomed to dealing with.

6. Little girls and cows. Little Moo was a big hit earlier in the summer, but the girls were also able to enjoy feeding hay to Moo's herd last week. Well, the big Es anyway. Despite her fascination with toy cows, photos of cows and cows at a distance, E3 wanted nothing to do with the real, noisy, moving thing.

7. Rain. I'm tired of it already, but it is forcing me to dial back some of my expectations for myself and I think I need the break. Plus it sounds wonderful on the metal roof and I know that this area has been needing it. That it has brought cooler temperatures so that cropped sweat pants and long sleeves feel good, well, there's a certain bonus to that as well. I hated not doing the things I planned to do yesterday, but I loved snuggling in cool weather clothes and taking it easy on myself instead. The fact that the morning's downpour had ceased before little people arrived today, meaning we made our troops shuttling them indoors without anyone getting drenched, was a bonus.

Emotionally, I'm a little more stable after a few days of restful living thanks to the rain. I'm more prepared for the weekend and looking forward to a "Frozen" birthday party for E1.

What brought you joy last week? Can you remember? Make a mental note so that you can find a smile when you need it.

Old Dogs Going Home, No More Fleas and Music

Facebook, frustrating and socially handicapping as it can be, can actually bring some good news sometimes.

Earlier this week, if you didn't see it, there was the story of Lady, the aging lab, who had been through two new families since her original owner died two years ago, and had bonded with a family that no longer wanted her. She had been adopted again, but ran away from the new home and walked 30 miles back to her former family.'

They didn't want her.

When I saw this story shared by some of my rescue friends one morning this week, it was a sad note. She was far away in Kansas and there was nothing I could do. Just a few hours later, there was a sequel.

She was rescued by an heiress who sent a private jet and an assistant to pick her up and relocate her to her estate and animal sanctuary in Florida.

Instead of a sad face that I had to try to forget, it was a happy ending and a bit of random joy. It was one of the bright spots in the week when I started trying to remember my bits of joy.

2. Seeing my poor Jack Russell finally sleeping comfortably today was a second doggy joy. The flea population exploded about two weeks ago when we finally got rain and with her allergies it only took one to send Abi into frenzied scratching and gnawing. It was so bad Saturday she was trembling. Yesterday I dropped a wad at the vet and put chemical weaponry to use. She took a Capstar and is wearing a Seresto collar (as are the other house dogs). The dogs who have been willing to take an adequate number of garlic pills are still flea free, but she had to have them forced on her. Organic was working slowly, but with her allergies I just couldn't prolong it.

3. Putting food in the freezer. Ray brought me a little box of sweet corn last week and I put four quarts in the freezer after we had some for dinner. I've also froze two quarts of tomatoes because my garden isn't producing enough to can and I refuse to let it go to waste. That has joined all the blackberries I saved from the earlier harvest.

4. Getting up at 5:15 a.m. to drive to a PiYo class. Yes, it was an awful time to get out of bed, but I do it for the girls the rest of the week so I may as well do it for me one day. It got my day off to a positive start with stretching and cardio.

5. iTunes radio. I've had my iPhone for months (upgraded for the camera) and only recently started using iTunes radio, which I've fallen in love with. Just a little better than the Amazon Prime Music playlist choices, which I first discovered. I love digital music and having tunes in my phone is too darn convenient.

6. An afternoon with a friend talking, sipping wine, and splitting our lunches.

7. Walking the dogs in the dark. They think I'm the absolute coolest human in the world for being out with them after 9 p.m. Sure, it would be nice to finish my day a little earlier, but strolling with a big white dog and a lot of others for company, the sky slowly darkening overhead, isn't a bad way to finish a day's tasks.

In fact, that's never a bad way to mark the ending of a day and recognizing the blessing that the day has been.

Oatmeal Pies, Pimento Cheese and Working Out

Right this moment, joy is a cup of coffee and iTunes radio while the rest of the house is quiet.

The girls arrived in rare form this morning -- a little late and unwilling to go back to sleep, even though it was still before 6 a.m. It made for a long morning. Bicycles, swings, playing in my kennel office, watermelon for snack, more swings, E3 in and out of the playhouse in some toddler version of hide and seek, and finally a bit of tree switching that ended when the twig landed wrong and there were tears.

Everyone was ordered to bed, even though I was the one who needed it the most. Thankfully, they were asleep in 30 minutes. They'd already been at my house for 8 hours and up for longer than that.

I'm tired.

They're tired, but they've gone home and won't be back until Saturday unless it is with parental accompaniment.

Zumba tonight is questionable, even though this is the only evening I've found a class I like.

Joy, however, has continued.

1. Feeding an oatmeal creme pie to three little dogs. I tried to get a good picture, really I did. The dachshund, chiweenie and chihuahua have never stayed with me before and were a little unnerved by the whole experience. But among their things was a box of oatmeal cream pies. My grandpa loved Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pies. There was always a box around. Ethan adopted the same devotion to them and any time he got to pick out his groceries he wanted some, not the small ones, but big ones, just like the little dogs had. Their "mom" said to divide one between them at bedtime. When they heard the rattle of the package, they changed. One oatmeal creme pie and they were happy and have been all week, munching out each evening.

2. Sticking with my at-home PiYo. There may be moments I hate it, or stop to try to figure out how I'm supposed to do it, but I'm in my third week of six workouts a week. I've been taking Saturday and Sunday off and doubling up on another day. Being able to stick to it this long brings a sense of satisfaction and joy along with sore muscles.

4. Palmetto (pimento) Cheese. Oh, my gosh. That is the best stuff. I absolutely have to stop buying it. Ma Mary used to keep pimento cheese and serve it grilled with the slightest encouragement. I'm content to melt it on a flour tortilla in the microwave, but still. I know it's not the best dietary choice, but the taste is heaven and memories and largely impossible to resist.

5. My farming neighbor, Ray. On a regular basis he stops with buckets of beans, corn, squash, tomatoes and melons. I grow a small garden, but he sets out hundreds of tomatoes and acres of corn. When my sorry hens are laying, I have fresh eggs for him. We tease and wave and visit when he drives by to tend his crops. I value Ray more than he will probably ever know. The girls and I love him -- produce entirely aside.

6. Finding another Zumba class that is bearable where "my" PiYo instructor is going to start teaching next month. Membership there is affordable and I can get those extra live workouts in each month. The fact that PiYo is getting ready to go live again, even if it is an inconvenient hour, is a pending joy.

7. Sleeping little girls snuggled against my neck as I carried them to the car. Despite how tired we were, they are still a dose of sunshine and joy, whatever else the day holds.

Find your joy. Hold it close and remember it for whatever else comes your way.

Sometimes Joy is Seeing the Bright Spots

Last week beat me up physically.

By Friday afternoon I was sleeping sitting upright on the front porch, my book laying by my side. When the phone roused me I relocated inside and slept some more, eventually stuck with staying up until nearly 1 a.m. to make up for it.

But I had reasons to be tired.

On Tuesday I had a suspicious lesion removed from my right leg, and yes, it was some variety of skin cancer. I'm stuck with a bandaid, and I never wear bandaids, and will have to go for more excavation once this round heals.

On Wednesday, us girls, which would be my daughter and I and the little ones, all trooped the length of the N.C. Zoo in Asheboro, alternately pushing my jogging stroller with the two big Es, who occasionally took turns walking, and carrying a baby in a carrier (or occasionally in the stroller) and a backpack of food, that also sometimes rode. Someone said the zoo was 6 miles of walking end to end. I wasn't able to verify that, but we did cover it and got home tired.

It was, however, my busy week and I was determined to get something done, so I went to the kennel play yard where I had been wrestling artificial turf for two days. I then managed to trip over the porch and with a hoard of small dogs under my feet, I wasn't able to get my footing and instead landed badly on my left knee, the side of my right hand, and my chin.

I still cannot picture how that would have looked.

I did manage not to land on any of the poodles, maltipoos, Maltese, or Shih t'zus who were keeping me company. My knee was badly banged up, however, earning me a second bandage, and I even wore one on my right hand Thursday while I was dog grooming.

And I was enjoying riding with the top down on the back roads coming back from a grooming appointment, right up until I saw blue lights in my rear view.

But even those things can be things to be happy about.

1. I didn't get a ticket, just a warning, because there was some uncertainty over whether I was in the 45 mph zone or not when he clocked me at 56, which wouldn't have been speeding if I hadn't passed the sign. I didn't argue, and in fact had already pulled over long before he caught up with me because that little orange Miata just inspires that sort of reaction from a trooper.

2. Although I was scuffed up a bit, I didn't break anything when I fell, on me or any of my little four-legged assistants. My knee is still sore, but it doesn't stop me from getting around or doing PiYo.

3. The lesion on my leg may need more care, but the dark freckle on my forehead was nothing to be worried about. I can handle a scar on my leg a lot easier than one on my face.

4. The zoo visit, although exhausting for all, was a wonderful outing. The weather was cool for July and, other than the Polar Bear, we saw more animals than ever. Lions and red wolves and Red River hogs and bears and apes with their babies and more. I love the N.C. Zoo and its habitat structure, even though that often means we cannot see all the animals. A weekday during the summer is also a great time to go with no school groups (just a few summer camp type programs).

5. Having two of the three pieces of turf where I want them to be brings me a sense of accomplishment and, yes, a feeling of satisfaction and joy. The new stuff looks like grass. I'm keeping it washed (so far) so the dogs and I can sit on it, and it's just part of not letting my kennel get rundown looking. Fence cleaning and new cages still need to be tackled, but I'm making progress.

6. Dinner with friends. I know, again! My commitment to get out of that solitary rut we were in seems to be taking root. A friend had given me two packs of ribs and we had ribs, baked squash from the garden, a blackberry crisp (locally picked berries), and oven roasted corn on the cob (from my neighbor's patch), a salad and bread. It was delish and the company was even better.

7. Catching up with a friend over a glass of sangria on the front porch. I have found a sangria recipe I like -- the same one that had the potential to cause trouble during our wine festival outing in May -- and have made it twice. I may perfect it at some point, but it's good enough to share now.

Today's my only baby free day this week and I've got lights and a ceiling fan to deal with, blackberries just begging to be picked, a yard that needs mowing and a kennel full of dogs. Here's hoping next week's joy won't be on the tails of more mishaps.

But if it is, as long as there's some joy, well, it'll be OK.

A Clean House, Grandbabies and Getting on my Feet

Sunday was rough, but looking back, I had a good week. In fact, I can easily come up with a long list of things that brought me joy last week.

But then again, it was a long week.

It was my week to babysit four of five days, to get up at 5 a.m. and take sleeping bundles of sweetness from their daddy in the still dark driveway, then tuck them back into bed for another hour or two of sleep before starting the day in earnest.

Most of those days, I stayed up as well, burning the candle at both ends as I started motivating myself to do PiYo at home, and then went blackberry picking at the end of the day, needing the headlights to get home from the patch.

So there was plenty of joy and remembering it helps me bounce back from the rollercoaster dip that was Sunday.

1. E2 coming to me in the middle of gymnastics class and telling me she needed me, not because she really needed my help, but because she hadn't been at my house all day and just wanted my company. Sure, I was enjoying reading my book instead of helping a 3-year old reach bars and tumble, but I really enjoyed being with her more.

2. Time in the pool with the big Es when Mommy brought them over and she took care of the baby, who opted not to swim. We were able to be much wilder than we can when E3 joins us.

3. "I'm a mermaid. Mermaids don't care." E2 made that proclamation during our pool play Saturday. It caught on and we all love it. Where it came from in her little head, I don't know.

4. An evening with friends. As a couple, we've managed three weekends in a row with adult outings! It's amazing and it was so good to catch up. We should seriously make a habit of it. Not only that, but I had dinner with gal pals one day as well! How much adult company can I stand? Apparently more than I've been getting because both evenings, although different, were wonderful times of joy.

5. A clean house. Housecleaning doesn't rate high on my to-do list, except when company is coming. So inviting friends over for dinner meant I cleaned house. While I don't enjoy the process, I do appreciate the end result.

6. E3's ridiculous tantrums. Lying facedown in the driveway while her sisters rode their bikes because I told her not to get in the rose bush took the cake. Then she got up with wood chips stuck to her face. And thank heavens for my iPhone camera. My grandchildren will never be able to deny anything ridiculous that they do for more than 15 or 20 seconds.

7. E3's fascination with cows. Everything is a cow. If she can't see a cow, she's looking for one. In church Sunday she kept loudly proclaiming "Cow," as she looked for one on her mom's iPad. No one knows why cows have suddenly become the thing for her.

8. E1 insisting she could help me carry gravels to raise my turf beds. Of course, that meant E2 did for a while as well, but E1 hung right in there until I quit to fix us lunch. Sure, she was carrying about a shovel full each trip, but she was helping and proud of herself for being part of the process.

9. Falling into a blackberry bush with the baby. No, it wasn't funny that we were both scratched, but we weren't seriously hurt. I just couldn't get my feet back under me with E3 in a backpack on my back and I kept imagining a 911 call to my daughter's co-workers. "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up," I would have had to say. And then there was the fact that we nearly landed on some innocent turtle, and the big Es wanted me to get the turtle so they could see it. It was one of those much better to laugh than cry situations and eventually I got on my feet and out of the bush.'

What brought you joy last week? Whether you're coping with a loss or just the ups and downs of life, it's good to stock away those treasures for the days that don't make you smile. Never let life slip by without taking time to appreciate what brings you joy.

Grief Has to Chase Me, I'm Running on Joy

I've found that this summer is giving me little time for anything beyond living in the moment.

I've decided that's not bad.

So I blog when I have a few moments to be at a computer and be introspective, which isn't as often as it is when there isn't a bag of cucumbers in the refrigerator, a roll of turf still waiting to be wrestled by the driveway, a yard that needs mowing, and wild blackberries singing their siren song from road banks and unmowed fields nearby.

Grief has to chase me down, which doesn't mean it doesn't happen, but it has to catch me alone with nothing to do, and that's a difficult task. I know it's hovering nearby, so I'm not ignoring it and still find myself with a tear in my eye at moments when I'm not wanting to deal with smeared makeup.

Joy, still random, is easier. I'm a summer person. I thrive on everything around me and I'm already cringing at the thought of cold weather.

So I store up my joy. There may be days in the months ahead when the light is short and the weather cold when I'll pull out these writings to shore myself up and remind myself that summer comes full of heat and sweat and laughs and pool time and work.

1. Sisterly love. When E2 had what sounded like a horrible fall in the driveway, and I scooped her up to pack her banged head in ice, it wasn't long before her two sisters came to pet and love on her and see how badly she was hurt. Sweet touches from other little hands and a smoochy kiss from the baby. She was back to playing amazingly soon and despite a skinned nose, the bruise was never as bad as I expected.

2. Watching/listening to "Frozen" for the fourth(?) time this week while we drove to therapy in Winston. The big Es and I were engaged in a discussion comparing them to the princesses in the movie. E1 is obviously Elsa, who has a different power that sometimes causes her to do mean things -- her SPD. It's something she is learning to control, not by ignoring it, but by working on it. E2 is Anna, her little sister, who loves her despite it. (E3, not part of the discussion, is another Elsa.) We talked about how Elsa's parents misunderstood and didn't help her, and how E1's parents are helping with therapy.

3. An unhurried outing with the girls. I got absolutely nothing ticked off my summer to do list, but we all had a good time. We spent money at Costco buying good things to eat, loading the cart while the girls followed my rule not to disappear and were able to stretch their legs. We followed that with a grown up lunch at Jason's Deli and the manager made the whole dining with three little people easier by meeting us at the door with a wheeled high chair and coming by to check on us. So what if they didn't eat a lot? At least it was fresh and healthy and we followed it with ice cream!

4. A challenging yoga class. I'm still chasing a good workout since my dance studio remains closed. I went for a Zumba/yoga double header at one of the local recreation centers. The Zumba class was horrible and I would have been better off with my DVDs or YouTube for all the energy there, but I guess it beat sitting on the sofa. The yoga class, however, was wonderful. Seriously, I've never thought of stretching my toes! I would like to do it again, but I want to be sure I don't wind up with that Zumba instructor ever again.

5. Amazon Prime Music. I'm enjoying it right now. Although I've not managed to get it to work on my mobile devices yet, I do enjoy it on the computer and I've already accessed a ton of playlists and music I had not heard in a long time.

6. Being invited by Springtime, Inc. to send in a picture of Abi to be featured in their 2015 catalog. I was so pleased with their Bug Off Garlic, which I chose for a natural alternative for pest control this year, that I wrote them. I received a letter asking to use my testimonial, a credit for $150, and a request for a picture of my 13-year-old Jack Russell who has gotten over her summer allergies since taking the supplement. That reminds me, I need to send one in.

7. Blackberries. Huge, fill up a bucket fast blackberries. Almost overripe, tasting like a burst of blackberry wine in my mouth blackberries. While a week ago I was worried that they would dry up instead of ripening, now I'm picking as often as I get a chance. I need to write just about blackberry picking, but suffice it to say I've done it as long as I can remember and it's always been a good thing for me. This year's crop just puts it over the top.

Now I've got to get going. There are dogs who need tending and berries that need picking, and that bag of cucumbers isn't fixing itself.

Head Above Water At Last

Last week I was swamped in every sense of the word.

My kennel was full. My best friend who has a kennel full of registered breeding dogs was in the Virgin Islands. The girls were here every day except Tuesday, and it was Vacation Bible School with our "second" church family. There was grooming and baths and lots and lots of poop to clean up.

I was spread as thin as the last piece of butter on a thick slice of sourdough bread.

But even though I didn't have a chance to access a real computer, I did keep my mental list. "This makes me smile," I would stop and think. "This is what I need to remember."

So finally, today, the girls have gone home from their only day at my house this week and I can possibly catch my breath and try to remember those quick, unexpected moments of joy from the last two weeks.

1. Rain on Sunday morning. No, it wasn't enough and yards and pastures in my area of North Carolina are turning brown. I'm glad I don't have livestock to feed. But it rained Sunday morning and I sat on the front porch drinking coffee and listening to rain falling on the metal roof and trickling away in the gutters.

2. A return visit from a radical dog rehab. When I met Violet nearly two years ago, she was terrified of everything -- even the couple who had rescued her. She spent most of a week with me where her occasional lapses into tantrums were dismissed and ignored and she gradually relinquished her hold on her past. She's still a little timid, but she's comfortable with her owners and doesn't spend any time with her tail tucked when she comes to visit. She plays with the other dogs and sometimes decides I'm worthy of a tail wag.

3. An overnight with E2. Even if it was to take her to the dentist while her sisters went to therapy. It was still a quick glimpse of special time alone with the middle child. Hearing how much E1 missed her was a hoot as well, since they so often fight, but when they were together again E1 ran up and said, "Hug me like you missed me." Ah, sisters.

4. Speaking of sisters, I finally got to watch "Frozen" as part of the sleepover deal. It was wonderful to see Disney recognize that true love may be the tangled relationship between siblings, not just the prince and princess we are so used to seeing. No wonder the Es love it so! They don't get the romance, but they get two sisters who could practically kill one another, but who are really first loves.

5. Spending the evening with friends. With our fractured work schedules and busy lives, we don't do enough of that. It was several hours of being adults and friends, instead of filling the other roles we are often pushed into.

6. Seeing an old friend at church for the second time in as many weeks. My past career means I know people from a lot of walks and most of them, no matter how much we used to talk or how genuinely I value their friendship, I don't see very often any more. When one of those friends and his family was behind me in church two weeks ago, I know my face lit up. When he was back this week, well, there were two moments of unexpected joy.

7. Watching the girls blow bubbles and remembering that it wasn't so long ago they could just chase them. E1's concentration to get a big bubble and E2's interest in quantity over quality were fun to watch, even if they were dribbling soap bubbles over my hands.

8. Texts from dog owners. "You do not know how much you mean to us!!!" said one. "I don't worry as much when they are with you," read another. "It cracks me up how well she does with you," from Violet's mom. "You're the dog whisperer." It warms my heart feeling how much these dogs are loved, and how much trust their owners place in me to leave them with me when they are on vacation, or traveling on business, or even dealing with family emergencies.

9. A new baby joining a friend's family. When my friend shared that they were hoping to adopt a baby this summer, it made me want to cry tears of joy for her. Sharing that with me made me feel closer to her, and after all she's been to me during the last six months, it was good to be there for her. When she sent me a picture of the baby the morning after she was born, I did cry happy, hopeful tears.

10. Hugs. Especially hugs from Jacob, a young man at my church who like Ethan went down a path of addiction. He's fought his way back and when I spoke to the church about the abuse of legal drugs, he sat in the congregation and wept. Now I pray for him and his family and when he's at church (which is when he isn't working) he envelops me in a big hug much like Ethan would have done. Sometimes, I'm brushing away the tears after the hug, but there is joy there all the same.

11. A late night dip in the pool and realizing how darn much I like it. I hate to swim. Wouldn't do it unless a life depended on it. But a four-foot deep pool of saltwater in my yard is the best thing I've found to turn a sticky summer day into something enjoyable. So when I came in from tending dogs at 11 p.m. one night and didn't really want a shower, a towel and I went to the pool instead. Rural living has its benefits for sure.

12. Zumba class. Even though I miss my classmates and teachers, I'm enjoying my new Zumba class. It's fun to challenge my brain in new ways and the energy of my new teacher is incredible. Yes, I still hear a song and miss the old choreography, but more and more I hear one and start to remember new moves as well.

13. Finding a new route to a familiar place because of a bridge closing, and discovering it was faster and a more enjoyable drive.

14. Little tiny vegetables in my garden. I have a well that has always had plenty of water, so the sprinklers go on the garden at least every other day. There are tiny cucumbers, tomatoes and shiny purple eggplants and the squash and melons are blooming. I'm hoping for a few things to harvest and me and the little people are enjoying watching them grow.

That seems like a long list, but it's been two weeks and I can still smile at the memory of toads in the kennel light, a deer that looked as big as a moose from the seat of my Miata, a tiny turtle in the rain (and yes I got out and rescued him), little girls splashing in the pool, a "new" bike for E1 after her tire went flat, and so much more. While last week had me down a few times, mainly due to exhaustion, life is still good and still worth living and there is still so much to bring me joy.

I know there are days it is easier, that time makes it easier, and some days not even the most pleasant memory can pull me back from the edge of tears. Even on those days, a "Ma" from a curly-haired girl can still do the trick. All I have to do is hang in there.

Remembering the Bright Spots for Dark Times

Sitting in the shade, surrounded by plastic water bottles, watching three curly-haired little girls play on the swings and slide while I neglect, for a while the things that need doing, happy doesn't seem that hard to do.

Driving home alone last night, it was the exact opposite -- elusive and hard to recall.

So often the alone times when I'm not busy, when my mind is free to wander the endless maze of "what if" and "if only," I find myself in dark places. Those are the times that I conjure my son's memory and stab myself in the heart with the reminder that he died, that his memory is all I have for the rest of my life.

Those are the times when I have to work to remember that happy happens, and that it will happen again. That it's when I need to remember this exercise and the things I'm saving in my mind for a sad time.

1. Fledgling wrens. For weeks my front porch has been a hub of activity for the wren family nesting in the eaves. Sunday mom and dad were strangely absent and the babies full of vocal complaints. The time had come for their parents to lure them from the nest. While we were away at church, they left and apparently with total success as I heard no left behind chirps nor did I find any caught by the dog on their maiden voyage. A few weeks and there will probably be another gang growing and noise again under the eaves, as there have been wrens on my porch for years now.

2. Little green tomatoes. Most of my garden could benefit from a good rain, but tomatoes do love hot weather and they are thriving. Several are sporting little green signs of progress, although I've yet to begin dreaming of that first, warm from the garden tomato.

3. Babies playing in the driveway before the sun gets too hot in one of those rare games when they all seem to be on or near the same page.

4. The slowly growing sprigs of the fig tree I planted the Saturday after Ethan's funeral. It froze back to the ground in the horrible winter we had, but it's alive and while I don't expect fruit this year I'll be looking for it in years to come.

5. Driving my convertible with the top down in the rain. Yes, I did it. I didn't have far to go and I wasn't convinced those random drops hitting the windshield as I started home were really going to add up to anything. Well, by the time I decided I was wrong, I would have gotten wetter stopping than driving, so I came on to the house. Although I drove through one serious downpour, it wasn't raining much at home, and it was seriously hot so I didn't mind the damp.

6. Pedro's social debut. I took him to a dog washing being held to raise money for the group that rescued him and he loved on people and was cordial to strange dogs. Several people stopped to comment on what a good dog he was. I know it's only a matter of time until the right person comes along.

7. Spending time with a friend letting her dog learn what it means to be a dog, or a puppy in her case. We had a very nice visit and Mabel eventually found out that she really didn't need to hide under a chair because the other dogs were FUN!

Sometimes, yes, it's a bad day or night, or even a bad week. But I know that there are always moments of joy if I'll take the time to give them the credit they are due. I know since making the effort, it seems the tide of my grief has turned just a little and seems less likely to swallow me, because I know I have happy to hang onto.

Some Weeks, the Joy is Hard to Recognize

I would say this has been a hard week, looking back, even though I might not be able to put a finger on why.

I think it is the sense of grief that has hung around several of my friends, new and old, who within a few days timespan of one another marked the anniversary of their child's death. My Facebook news feed contained a trickle of pain that some days felt more like Niagara Falls. All those pictures of our children we'll never hold again in this world. Gone 11 years, gone one year, gone a month; dead in vehicle accidents, drug overdoses and drownings; snatched from our lives in a heartbeat that wasn't followed by another while we were going about the business of living.

Most of the young people I never knew; two of the mothers I've never met face-to-face, but their pain resonates in my heart each day and I knew the grief that only we can understand and share. It's been six months since I heard my son's voice. Sunday will mark a six-month anniversary for me and although I hadn't thought to give it weight, the weight of other's pain has added to my own. And for the first time the actual date, the 15th, will also be the same as it was in December.

So it has been challenging to think about trying to find random joy this week, which meant I needed to do it even more than on a week when the list could be endless.

Babies, dogs and reptiles still delivered the odd smile, even if sometimes I had to brush away an unshed tear to do so.

1. Catching a five-foot blacksnake in my hen house. Literally. I wish I'd caught his companion and I'm glad that four of the five snakes I've encountered this week (yes, it really has been that kind of week) were black snakes. There's nothing to freak your friends out on Facebook like posting a picture of a snake, in your hand, and wrapped around your wrist. Not only that, but I think I could be solving the egg mystery one snake at a time. I have caught two blacksnakes in the coop this week (the other was much smaller) and my husband killed a copperhead in the kennel one night. I've seen two more black snakes. Apparently the wive's tale about them keeping copperheads away isn't true. My yard isn't that big.

2. Another tiny turtle. This one was even tinier and so shy it would not stick its head out to entertain the baby, but E2 was delighted by it all the same. Since it was so near my home, she had the honor of taking to the garden to release it.

3. Gold Medal Day. For little gymnasts, it is the equivalent of a piano recital. They get to put on their moves in front of friends and family and after toting E1 and E2 to classes, and E3 along for the ride since the oldest was 2 years old, I'm an old pro at the festivities. So was E1. My middle baby, who is never daunted by anything and who has been doing class without help for a couple of weeks, was overwhelmed by the number of people and needed me to come with her. While I was looking forward to being part of the audience for a change, I was glad to be the one she called.

4. A baby sleeping in my arms through Sunday school class. Yes, she was hot, and heavy after a while, but it was such a sweet burden to hold E3 when she dozed off without her pacifier or blanket. Plus, she awoke in a much better mood.

5. Pedro. I know, you're probably tired of hearing about Pedro, but in the wake of what seemed like a nervous breakdown last week, he's suddenly OK. With everything. Including the big male dogs that would previously have given him a cause to be defensive. I'm still testing the water, but he was actually playing wild games with another male that he wasn't four times as big as. Now all I have to do is find him a good home, but he's sure ready to go and after so many months of work I'm so happy to see the dog that has emerged from the tormented canine that arrived last October.

6. The pool. Growing up I would never have dreamed I'd have a pool, mainly because no one had pools except country clubs and the indoor one at the Y. I don't swim well, probably for the above reasons, but I love my pool. It is a temporary, above ground one, but it's got salt water, and I can fall into it after mowing or anything else and be so refreshed and immediately cooled. Not only that, but it's a wonderful place to contain and entertain the girls on a hot day and it's finally big enough, after two summers in one of the easy set models, for floats and multiple adults and children.

7. A quart of red paint for my front door, well crimson paint actually. I've always wanted to paint the front door red. It's supposed to be good feng shui to have a red front door and I'm about to have one, except I forgot to buy a paint brush. Still, I have the paint and the plan, and it's good to have plans.

So it took some dredging, but I came up with seven. I figure one for each day of the week and I can pull them forth and polish them off if this coming week is as hard as last week.

I keep reminding myself that happiness isn't a destination, it's what happens along the way and I've got to work to have it each day because I'm never going to get there. It has to be within me as I go.

Do the same, whatever hard battles you're fighting. Recognize the joy because you can bet you won't miss the pain when it comes. Try to see happy when it happens.

Sometimes Change Is Just Different

I think most of us hate change. I know I do.

Every single time I've changed jobs I've expected to show up the first day and find out that I didn't really have the new, better job I thought I'd quit my old job to take. (Of course, once I was right in that the new job sucked even worse than the old one, but it was really there until I managed to get myself laid off.)

Change that I don't seek, well, that's particularly unwanted. Especially more recently as I've found a routine that has worked and keeps my head above water, so to speak. Just adapting to my daughter's changed work schedule, which is great overall, has been enough to deal with this spring.

Then "my" Zumba studio closed for the month.

While I understood a temporary shortage of available instructors due to everyone's vacations and other issues, when I first got an inkling it was going to happen, I came home in tears. The studio was more than an exercise outlet, although I do love PiYo and Zumba. It was a support network.

I know and love the instructors inside and outside the studio; not just them but their spouses, children and dogs. When Ethan died, they all came to his funeral bringing unexpected support and genuine love and caring. Each time I stepped into the studio, there were friendly faces and warm greetings from fellow students that I have also come to know and care about -- many who are facing issues that aren't that dissimilar to my own.

Suddenly I felt like all that was gone and I was looking at a month of literally sitting around when I should have been stretching and sweating to PiYo, or stumbling through new dance routines, or nailing the ones I knew. Although I didn't want to feel whiny and self-centered, it was easy to make it all about me. I felt abandoned.

But that was small of me and the feeling didn't last too long.

I began to look at alternatives. Although I can't find another "real" PiYo class in my area, I did find several Zumba offerings that were within the same driving distance and workable time frames and yoga classes as well. And I knew I had only scratched the surface with the three nearby recreation centers (I live in the geographic center of my county, which has nothing, but everything is within an equal drive). I know there are smaller yoga studios and possibly some Zumba studios as well if I just do some more digging.

Since I've occasionally found Zumba workouts (and discovered one of my favorite studios, REFIT Revolution in Texas, on YouTube), I turned to YouTube again and found a couple of full-length PiYo classes there as well. Since PiYo repeats the same class for about six weeks before changing, when I found one I could stand both the video and sound quality on, I decided I might be OK short-term.

I even managed to motivate myself to do most of the 52-minute class with only one water break and two "oh heck no I'm not doing another pushup" breaks. I wouldn't have done that in a live class. Of course, I don't think the thermostat at the studio is as high as I keep mine at home and I'll definitely need another fan and fewer clothes before I do it again. Still, while I missed the interaction, my muscles did tell me the next morning that I had worked them and that was comforting.

The next night I braved one of the Zumba offerings I had found at a rec center and was surprised to find two of my studio mates (both part-time instructors) doing the same. It was a small class with a new, young instructor and totally new moves and I had fun. Not only that, but I realized I would have had fun without my "homies," who were like ringers on a minor league ball team. At the same time, while we dressed the part and knew most of the moves, we didn't know the choreography and even the "pros" were almost as bumbling as me most of the time.

That experience encouraged me. I told my husband that perhaps I had fallen into too much of a comfort zone. Perhaps it was time for me to stretch my wings again. I recognized it would not be the same, and not necessarily better or worse, but that different wasn't always bad.

This morning, still feeling the effects of both workouts, I realized that there might be people in other places who would seek me out because of Ethan's story, just like there have been those who needed to talk at my old studio. There might be other people that I can minister to (if you can call it that) and help support on a difficult journey.

I also thought more about what I might like to do long term and decided this could be the beginning of more changes that I initiate and that help me in ways that I wouldn't have found had there not been this sudden lack in my life. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens.

Not that I'd abandon my old comfort zone by any means. No, when that group reassembles I'll be there. But it may well be a better me for the experience of being away.

Finding Joy Despite a Shitastrophy

Yesterday was, as another blogger has called it, a shitastrophy.

I had a dog coming to groom that I dread. She's probably a sweet dog, but she doesn't like her annual shave.

There are actually a lot of dogs who only get an annual shave (I have two) in early summer and some of them are comfortable with the process. Maggie, not so much.

The first time I groomed her it was an all out wrestling match and I almost wished I'd taken her owner up on his offer to stay and help. Generally, however, I can negotiate the process by continually talking to her, and watching her very closely. Unlike most other dogs, she doesn't signal her intent to bite by licking her lips or touching me with her teeth -- she snaps like a snapping turtle. I dread her coming from the time they call until after we're done.

When she arrived for her appointment, I discovered my long-term rescue, Pedro, had wallowed his way out of his cage Sunday night and wrecked the grooming parlor. There were papers, towels, and shredded cardboard scattered everywhere and multiple surfaces had been marked. Pedro was recaged, the mess cleaned up, and then I discovered Pedro was having an attack of nerves. Nerves in a dog frequently lead to poop. Repeated poop.

Before the morning was over I'd cleaned up Pedro's poop twice; he had destroyed another cage by shredding the pan in the bottom; I had to bathe Pedro because after he pooped and wore himself out destroying the cage, he had to lie down for a nap; and I identified the probable source of Pedro's angst as the French bulldog who sounded like she was being killed by torture although there was nothing in the world wrong with her. She was relocated to another location and Pedro was napping happily nearby as I finally tackled the "snapper spaniel."

After all that, I grabbed lunch (literally, I made a chicken wrap and practically swallowed it whole), dumped a tank of Roundup (not crunchy, but I'm using what's on hand first) on the weeds overtaking my sidewalks and chicken fencing, and push mowed the yard (no self-propelled, I do push mow the still grassy part of my 3/4 acre yard).

Oh, I hadn't mentioned before that I'm occasionally crazy active?

Well, I wound down after that with a dip in the pool (above ground, don't think too ritzy here) and fixed a cold supper for hubby and I. That was probably the high points of the day.

With a day like that yesterday -- humorous now, but at the time it was rubber gloves and gagging -- I need my Tuesday fix of joy. Who doesn't?

1. A tiny box turtle. I remember as a kid my dad picking up box turtles out of the road. It was a regular occurrence. I think he mostly drove by and picked them up from the door, and I'm pretty sure they got relocated out of their territory because we didn't know about such things. But he saved them from death on the asphalt and I'm prone to doing the same, even turning around to go back, although I try to just move them across the road. After dropping E1 at school, I noticed a turtle shaped blob on the busy road near my home and turned around to check it out. It was probably the smallest box turtle I've ever seen and it delighted two little girls for short drive to the point I let it go in a quieter area.

2. Falling into the aforementioned pool. Yes, it's an ultraframe, above ground temporary structure, but it's 16x4 and a step up from the little easyset one we used last year. I bought it used, it works with my existing filter and saltwater treatment system, and it doesn't leak. Since we managed to do it level, if we decide it's large enough we may go permanent above ground with decking and save enough on the installation to pay for the deck.

3. Fig leaves. Despite the cold winter and the hurt it put on so many plants in our area, my little fig tree is finally putting forth leaves. It did freeze back to the ground, but there is life.

4. Finally getting up one roll of the fencing we got last fall to enclose my garden and extend the chicken's range. Of course, we're only half done, but it looks good and it was funny watching my less intelligent dog run into it repeatedly last night in the dark. Seriously, I heard this strange noise and there he stands, and then he does it a couple more times and stands there at the corner. Eventually he figured out how to go back around the end.

5. Bottle feeding a baby calf. I'm helping tend critters at a friend's house while she's gone to the beach (she did the same for me) and feeding the baby calf may be the high point. The calf doesn't care that I'm a stranger. I've got her bottle and she's eager to eat.

6. An evening with friends. I spontaneously (as in informing my husband after the fact) invited a couple over for dinner, serving up steak, a new potato salad recipe, and cherry cobbler as my part of the fare. The evening was delightful all around.

7. Mastering my five-speed. It has been years since I regularly drove a five-speed. My little Miata has given me a few quirks. I've only killed it once, but was regularly skipping third and hitting fifth, but I seem to have overcome that challenge. I even barked the tires changing gears the other day. Silly, but it made me smile.

Take a moment... What made you smile this week? Yesterday? Treasure it to get through the rough spots. Capture it, if you can. Remember, that even if today is a shitastrophy, or the week seems full of hardships, there are reasons to smile if you look for them.

Family Vacation Is a Joyful Occasion

A vacation is supposed to be a guaranteed dose of joy and it generally is.

My getaway with my family last week was at times bittersweet, but at the same time it was a joyful escape from everyday life and the shuffle of children and dogs that occurs on a near daily basis at my house. It was a chance to get on one another's nerves even more than we usually do as well, but we all managed to survive (insert laugh) as the seven of us shared a two-bedroom apartment and realized after the first night that putting the people who needed to go to bed first in the living room to sleep probably wasn't the best idea.

Still, in four days of fun, there were bits that stand out.

1. Watching the sun come up over the ocean. I think I would do that every day if I lived at the beach. There's something so special and blessed about the sky and the water and play of light. I would sit on the steps from the motel and there was no sun, then a bright band of light over the water, and then in just what seemed like seconds a ball of fire in the sky.

2. Touching a swimming stingray at the aquarium and finding that it was cool and somehow velvety. Then seeing the look on E1's face when she made the same discovery.

3. Helping E1 overcome her initial reaction to the ocean -- an OMG that's a lot of water and what if that big thing (pier) falls? We went from a "Come on, I'll hold you" to a sandpiper to a "Come away from the water!" over the course of our stay.

4. Building a sandcastle with the girls -- our first joint effort -- and then lying on the beach while they napped and watching strangers stop to make a picture of the castle multiple times.

5. Being middle aged in a two-piece at the beach. Seriously, who cares? It's liberating. I wore what I wanted it to and didn't worry about "looking good" and afterwards, although there was an unflattering picture or two (where did that belly come from in those jeans?) I was just glad to be in the picture.

6. Eating breakfast in a restaurant on the pier with my husband where we could watch the waves and the fishermen, the beach walkers and the early surfers, and escape the chaos of sharing an apartment/room with my daughter and her family and be just a couple for part of each day.

7. Waiting on the pier one night for my husband and having another woman with windblown curly hair ask what I used to make mine look so good and spending time talking to her about natural alternatives to all the chemicals people think they need. (Oh, and BTW the homemade sunscreen kept little people who didn't spend too much time in the water unburned. E1 did wind up with a few pink places as it isn't waterproof and needs to be reapplied.)

8. Chasing ghost crabs with a flashlight on the beach with hubby, the big Es and their dad. The girls squealed and ran and I imagine the crabs did much the same.

9. Dolphins in the surf on our last morning at the beach. Sure, it was just a fin and back here and there, but while watching the pelicans fish after sunrise I realized they weren't alone. We watched dolphins off and on all morning.

10. Realizing that despite what felt like a haphazard way to get everything done at home while I was away, everything survived (although the little rose I got for Mother's Day was a near thing). The dogs were so happy to go back in the house from the kennel, the chickens were still half-heartedly laying eggs, the yard dogs were glad someone was back, the house was cool and the pool was warm.

So this week I'm looking for joy without the ocean, as the old routines try to feel familiar again. It's still here, still waiting to be recognized and pull me from dark places, just like it is for everyone.