In honor of National Tater(s) Day

In honor of National Tater(s) Day

In honor of National Taters Day, here’s something I wrote about  our our beloved Jack Russell terrier, Tater when he passed away a few years ago.  Anyone who’s ever loved a dog may recognize the bittersweet mixture of sorrow and gratitude I felt when he died after sharing eighteen splendid years with us.

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Aaron, the time-traveling purple alien – a sad blast from the past

Here's to Darryl, the time traveling purple alien

Here’s to Aaron, the time traveling, sea-faring purple alien, and all childhoods haunted by abuse and loss.

“I got a story ain’t got no moral…let the bad guys win every once in awhile…”

Billy Preston, “Will it Go ‘Round in Circles”

 

(Aaron’s name and a few other details have been changed out of respect for the privacy of all involved.)

In the late 1980s, I worked with children who lived in a group home. They ranged in age from eight to twelve, and most came from abusive backgrounds. Aaron was one of those children: eight or nine years old, a sweet, tow-headed, funny, fiercely loyal little boy, with loving mischief and a unique abundance of childhood magic soothing and lighting his wounded soul.

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I see good people

I see good people

Cole Sear: I see dead people.
Malcolm Crowe: In your dreams?
[Cole shakes his head no]
Malcolm Crowe: While you’re awake?
[Cole nods]
Malcolm Crowe: How often do you see them?
Cole Sear: All the time. They’re everywhere. The Sixth Sense (1999)

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Mother love

Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer

Today, one of our cashmere goats gave birth to a tiny, new and utterly perfect kid. I helped, after we determined it looked like it was breech. I took those little hooves in my clumsy hands and pulled carefully, gently and consistently as the mama strained and bleated until the little one emerged.

The birth of our kid

The birth of our kid

Once out, she was not feet first. Rather, she entered the world in a perfect pike position, nose almost touching her ankles. We should name her Greg Louganis.

My beloved husband asked me later if goat midwifing was on my bucket list and my answer was no. That’s an incomplete response. It wasn’t on my bucket list because I had no idea how amazing it would be to help another mama guide her new little one into the world. Seeing the miracle of  a living, breathing, alert little soul emerge was an unasked-for, now treasured, privilege. It evoked a reverence that came from some timeless place within me.

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Happy Independence Day!

The Declaration of Independence

The Declaration of Independence

Happy 4th of July!

In 1776, the Declaration of Independence may have been signed on July 4, or July 2, or sometime in August. What is certain is that Thomas Jefferson, the principal author, had quite a way with words. The language is fiery and unambiguous and, with remarkably few exceptions, timeless.

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