Even Noah had his critter limits……

First of all—for those of you who loathe silly, sentimental critter posts—flee NOW! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Second of all, we have a new member of our household, or ark, whichever you prefer. In order to understand the ark reference you would probably need to have read or read this post about my secret life. Go ahead, click on it…I’ll wait. {whistling}

So now that we are cruising on my ark together, I would like to introduce you to Obi (as in Obi Wan Holy Kanoli that's a big dog!!)

He is a Bull Mastiff and he is HUGE, COLOSSAL, ENORMOUS, GIANT and the sweetest tempered dog I have ever had the occasion to meet. So polite and calm.

Having said that—I did NOT need another critter. As a matter of fact, I had just been reasonably successful at establishing the fact that we were done acquiring critters of ANY kind. Yeah, my family laughed at my delusions too. {deep sigh}}}}

Obi (I am not really sure how it is spelled or if that is his whole name) came to us by way of my husband’s nephew, who lives in Nevada. Just a hop, skip and a jump, really. They had a really good reason for needing to find him a new home, I was just a little confused as to why we were the best option. Then I remembered that one of my husband’s biggest priorities in life is family and that its one of the biggest reasons I love him. In his mind there is always room for 1 more, be it human or critter---so----a new dog it was. And let me tell you, Mr. Obi vonLARGE was not nearly as big in that picture they sent me on my cell phone. Talk about things being larger than they appear…….

He has settled in nicely and I’ll admit that I am smitten. He and my son have become inseparable. Best friends and comrades in arms. We have had dogs ever since he was born but he never connected with them like he does with Obi.

My nephew wanted an update and some pics so here is my “Ode to Obi”. Not that I have the first clue about “oding”…….

So far Obi and Milan’s favorite game is “Hide and Run Like Heck to the Tramp Before Obi Knocks You Down”.

Those ears are killing me. (the dog’s, not my son’s) I have taken a million gratuitous Obi ear shots. I just can’t help myself …and the eyebrows—do you see that??!! He can so nail the one eyebrow!!

But then there is the tongue and slobber issue---I’m still trying to find my chi on that issue…..eeewwwwww..

But then there is this….

And just in case you still can’t understand my new infatuation….I will leave you with this-----amen.

Update on Dad

I’ve had a few people ask so I thought I would take a minute and do a Dad update.


He is doing as well as can be expected. He is still on oxygen 24/7 and gets fairly frustrated with tripping over the oxygen ropes, making sure the canister or machine is on, carrying around the oxygen tank, and having those ropes hanging around his ears! But if he goes any time without it the tip of his nose and tips of his ears start to turn purple and it goes quickly downhill from there.


They have started giving him MASSIVE injections of iron that have really given him a lot more energy and that in turn have really lifted his spirits. Enough so that he went to his beloved “Family History Center” for the past 2 weeks for a couple of hours! I am so glad----there for awhile I thought he was going to give up and wither away because he was so depressed.

We have started talking about getting the house ready to sell and moving them to assisted living or building onto their home and moving in to take care of them. Right now we live 25 minutes from their house and so for me just to “pop” over takes about 3 hours out of my day. I really want to be there for them but this is not working. Of course neither option is what they WANT to be considering—so hopefully we will be able to work that out soon.



This picture was taken in March. He just recently celebrated his 74th birthday! This quilt is what I gave him and it has a great story attached to it.



Soooo…. I am NOT a sewer.



NO.



REALLY.



NOT.







But, I really wanted one of these kind of quilts for my Dad to have when he has to sleep in his recliner at night or when he is the hospital—something that was super soft and cozy. It was a dilemma.



Then I remembered my friend T—mm—Trish—who has taught classes at our church on how to make these ragtime quilts-- so I called her—hoping she would guide me through the process.



This next part is a little emotional for me. I hope I can do it justice in words.



After I shared my dilemma, she was quiet for a minute and I thought, “Oh dear, this was too much to ask with her busy, busy schedule.”



Then she said, “Lisa, because I love you and your Dad, I want to make this quilt for you.”



It was the kind of sentence that just takes your breath away. Then makes the tears come, unbidden.



I argued and protested but she prevailed and eventually--- I gratefully accepted.



I went and bought some material and thread and dropped them by her house.



Around 2 weeks later her oldest daughter called and said I could come pick it up.(a history note: I taught all 4 of her children piano when they were growing up and actually loved them very much like my own.) Apparently the 2 oldest daughters helped make it and then another very dear friend embroidered on it. I don’t know if you can see it but it says:

To Dad
Craigrado 3-09

When I was very small my Dad use to ask me who I was and where I lived. I would say, “I’m Lisa Boyce Ann from Craigrado.” It was a little game we would play, over and over. My whole life, my nickname has been Craigrado. (I was actually Lisa Ann Boyce from Craig, Colorado)

When they handed me the quilt, I just held it and cried. That someone would sacrifice their time and talents to make something so beautiful for me was completely overwhelming. It is a debt I cannot repay. When I gave it to my Dad—I cried again.

He LOVES his blanket and carries it everywhere with him.

It has definitely been a---so dark you see the stars—kind of experience.

God bless us….every one…….

And Happy Easter too!

TWENTY

For those of you who loathe the silly, sentimental, parental prattle and the unprovoked sharing of photos only a mother cares about birthday post -----flee now.


I just can’t help myself. It’s not like I will do this every year. I just want to do it once for each child, to put in my journal. Really.

Twenty years ago I was yelling at my husband to, “LOOK AT ME, NOT THE D#$% MONITOR!!! I AM THE ONE IN LABOR YOU IDIOT!!” I will spare you all the rest of that conversation. After 10 hours of labor and screaming at the nurse who was holding the baby in because the doctor didn’t have his scrubs on yet----I got this prize----

I just want to reach right in that picture and nibble on those cheeks and squish that perfect little person! She was my “squishy”, snuggly; I only want my mamma baby.

Nat has been a performer since day one. At 5 months she started throwing her head back and howling—just like a wolf—a little, hoarse, baby wolf—but it made everyone laugh---and she was hooked.

This fashion statement happened the night her Dad took her and some friends to see "Signs". I didn't ever see it but apparently it is relevant.... but I think she looks like Zena, Warrior princess with a hangover.
As a Mother, I can't help but feel a sense of pride as I notice that MY child is the only one who fit the WHOLE cookie in her mouth.........








I’ll never understand how this child......



































who we had to fight daily just to keep her clothes on and….
to make her keep her pull ups on the right part of her body………

















grew up to be the most modest, all parts of my body must be covered, young woman that she is today!!
















Natty, you take my breath away. …….

With your beauty.....

Your courage........


























And your strength.

This is Nat 4 wheeling to the Hole in the Rock,inUtah when she was just 13.

I love you for your adherence to what you know to be true. For your shiny, happy soul and for so many other things but most of all….

Because you love me!!

How I got so lucky as to share her journey for the last 20 years---I’ll never know.

Happy Birthday Natty Gann!