I am a Dog Person

I frequently ask myself "When did I become a dog person?"  Until a few years ago, I would have never called myself a dog person.  I've always had cats, growing up and all through my adult life.  I didn't give much thought to owning a dog.  However, I knew that if I could choose a dog, it would be a Scottish terrier and I would name it Franklin.  I had the name picked out long before I actually had the dog.  I figured my chances of ever owning a scottie were pretty slim, as I never saw ads for one in the pet sales section of the local paper.  Then, what do you know?  Early in March of 2007, there was an ad for scottie puppies in the Columbus newspaper.  As excited as I was, I waited too long to call, and the ad was gone after a week.  Oh well....But wait, about two weeks later, the ad was back...only one puppy left.  So I called and set up a meeting at the breeder's home.
When I arrived, there at the front door was one of the most beautiful cats I'd ever seen, and I was happy to see the folks were cat lovers, too.  When I walked into their kitchen, I was greeted by the puppy's parents, and the owner's daughter said, "There's the puppy. We've been calling him Frankie."  I couldn't believe it.  I'm sure it was a sign from God.  That puppy was supposed to be mine.  Franklin has brought me more joy and pleasure than I thought was possible from a dog.  He is my heart.  And the answer to my question is..the day Franklin came to live with us, my life changed forever, and I became a dog person.  Two more scotties have joined us here at the Spragzoo, and life couldn't be better. 

Beauty is only skin deep,

"but ugly goes straight to the bone," quipped Flip Wilson.  How about "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder"?  I've given this beauty, or rather ugly, business a good bit of thought lately.  It all started after watching the Beatles Grammy special a few weeks ago.  Ringo and Paul still looked good, fifty years after it all started.  I once heard my step-mother call someone's baby ugly, as in "That sure is an ugly baby."  I was horrified.  Let me say right now that NO BABY is EVER ugly.  EVER.  After that, I had, and still have, a hard time calling any living thing ugly.  I prefer "physically unattractive", or "the face only a mother could love."  Buzzards come close, but still, they are just really physically unattractive.  And, of course, being a southerner, I try to make it all better by saying "Bless his/her/its heart"   when talking about beauty or lack of it.  Ugly is an adjective I reserve for describing God-awful football team uniforms, like those of the Oregon Ducks or the Pittsburgh Steelers.

 My mother and I had an interesting conversation this weekend.  We were discussing stars who are aging nicely, the ones who still can cause my heart to race despite the graying hair and the increased wrinkles.  Me, I think Paul McCartney is still really cute.  Not so much handsome, but cute.  Then, there's Robert Redford, Harrison Ford, Richard Gere, all of whom are LOOKING GOOD.

We had some disagreement when we began to discuss those that might be considered physically unattractive, you know, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder.   I could not convince Mother that despite the thin, gaunt face with continuous wrinkles, Mick Jagger was not ugly.  I never thought he was good-looking.  I didn't have his pictures on my walls as a teenager with those of Davy Jones or Bobby Sherman.  I  couldn't convince her that his eyes twinkled and that in most of the images I googled for her, he just looked very happy and content.  She said he was still ugly.  When I mentioned the physical unattractiveness of Steven Tyler, she was quick to disagree!!!  If only he'd cut his hair and wear better clothes, he'd be nice-looking, she declared. (Never in a million years did I think I would ever hear my mother say Steven Tyler was good-looking!)

So, she didn't agree with me about Mick, and I didn't agree with her about Steven.  But, we did agree on the physical unattractiveness of one old star, Keith Richards.  Bless his heart.  I wonder if his pictures were on anyone's walls.

When I'm 64

"I will not be in second grade." wrote one of my students when I assigned each one to finish the sentence "When I'm 64......."  Yes, I even taught 2nd graders about the Beatles.  But that will have to wait until another post.  This one is about being sixty-four.  I'm nowhere near 64, but, you know, that doesn't sound nearly as awful as it once did.  My husband turned sixty back in October, and I wondered how in the world I could be married to such an old man.  I asked him to remember what we once thought sixty was, and did he feel like he was OLD?  Some of my dearest friends are in their sixties.  They aren't old fogies at all.  Aging has its draw backs, I suppose, but other than not being able to shake off a cold as quickly as I once did, and hips and knees that ache more often, in my mind, I'm still 41!

Breakfast with Daddy at Columbia Cottage.

So, here's my list of things I like about getting older:
1.  I've learned to let go of the things I can't control. That's right..LET IT GO.  I need to get that embroidered on a pillow. 2.  I secretly laugh at foolish girls who get their panties in a knot about something not going their way.  LET IT GO, SWEETHEART.  3.  I have learned to find joy in the simple things.  Sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and the scotties snuggled beside me, having nowhere to go and nothing to do (that means no schedule or lesson plans to worry with), and not setting the alarm on the weekends are a few of the things that delight me now.  4.  I get the biggest kick out of ordering a Senior coffee at McDonalds.  I giggle when I pull up to the drive thru.  Saving fifty cents gives me such a rush.
I've never been one to worry about my looks.  I decided a long time ago that I would probably gain weight.  I probably will get wrinkles.  But, I will probably always be a blonde!  Neither my mom or my dad are very wrinkled, so I can thank genetics for the lack of wrinkles.  Smile lines around the eyes are fine by me.  I think they make folks look friendly.  Right now, I worry about my teeth.
I've made up my mind that I am going to have fun my last few years of teaching.  I am going to enjoy my students.  Whining and griping about the garbage that goes on in education was causing me to have a sour outlook.  So I LET IT GO,   So I AM GOING TO HAVE FUN AGAIN.  I feel so much better now.

Last week, my dad went to an assisted living facility.  It is a lovely place, and I do hope he will be happy.  I wonder where I'll be when I'm eighty-five.  I know I will not be in second grade.