December

December has been...chaotic, for the most part snowless, frustrating and sometimes overwhelming. Yet in the quite moments there has also been great joy.

We brought Atticus home on December 2. He has added to the house some of that chaos, frustration, and also great joy. I haven't threatened to send him back to the breeder this week, so things must be looking up. Somebody we met recently summed it up best, "You are training a puppy, but you are also retraining yourselves."

The mostly snowless December has been great when you have to bring a puppy outside every 15 minutes to go to the bathroom. Not so great because the snow would cover up the acorns he gets distracted trying to eat and forgets to go to the bathroom. Then 15 minutes later we are back outside to do it all over again.

We didn't put our tree up until the Friday before Christmas due to a curious puppy, and it is down already, even though he did learn to leave it alone. The bows on the Christmas presents never lost their appeal though.

Atticus loves the beach! Hallelujah! I know I have the right dog. December has had a fair amount of 40 degree days and a little sunshine, perfect for digging in the sand and running up and down the little sand dunes. One sunny, 45 degree afternoon when we were there, there was a boat cruising the channel, the stereo system blasting Oh Holy Night and Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow. I felt like I was in some weird time warp.

Somehow I got everything done in time for Christmas; the presents bought and wrapped, the food bought and prepared, the house cleaned, the traditional sugar cookies cut out and decorated, the family party hosted and cleaned up. I'm glad it's over though.

I got an Instant Pot for Christmas, I am excited to try it out. Mallory surprised me with a month of unlimited yoga classes for both of us. I can't wait!

We had a mini-reunion of the boys from Atticus's litter along with their mom. The boys all live in the area so it will be fun to have play dates every now and again.

I committed to doing the online Summer Studio video lesson on Art Journaling for Dirty Footprints Studio.

I am looking forward with anticipation to 2019...

Watching Atticus grow up. Hard to believe he will be 12 weeks already on Monday.

I am entering 1-3 collaged postcards in a Postcard Salon exhibition at the Muskegon Museum of Art. Deadline is January 13. I have one almost done.

On January 2, I will begin the steps necessary to start my long dreamed of art business. I am applying for a LLC, setting up a bank account and getting a business credit card and all the other things that come with starting a business. I have a friend that will be doing a logo and branding for me. I need a head shot done for my website and for Dirty Footprints Studio, so I will be seeking somebody to do that. I plan to open an Etsy shop once I have some art ready to post. The art most likely will be a combination of collage and my photography, similar to the postcards I am making for the exhibition.

I have no idea where any of this is going to go, but I am buckling up for the ride and trusting the journey on the twisting road before me.

Road to Atticus

On my desk sits a photograph of two golden boys in the prime of their lives. I recently found this photograph in the storage room as I was sorting and purging. My heart paused when I saw it. It was probably put there when it became too painful to look at.

It was October 2014 when we lost the first golden boy. He was 12, old but not too old. I have never been able to fully write about his loss. October 11 marked two years since the loss of the last golden boy. He was only a couple months shy of 14, but he had been slowly slipping away for the last year of his life.

We have lived the last two years with a part-time dog, the grand dog Findley. Findley is the funniest, quirkiest dog you will ever meet, but he is also a geniune joy and blessing.

It took us these two years to heal, to spend some time without a dog, travel, not be tied down. We did all those things. Eventually the heart heals, the wanderlust dies down a bit, and being without isn't fun anymore. Born on October 8, 2018 was a new beginning.

Our new beginning will be coming home at the beginning of December. At first I thought we were crazy to get a puppy going into winter. Potty training, cold and snow didn't seem like a logical mix. But the more I thought about it...when am I home the most? When do I have the most time to devote to potty and all around training? Winter of course.

Then I worried about socialization. The new ideal is for your puppy to have contact with at least one hundred different people before they are sixteen weeks old. Where am I going to find 100 people in the winter? Our downtown of course, with its heated sidewalks. What a great place to walk, get use to different sounds and a wide variety of people and dogs.  Who can resist talking to and petting a puppy?

The first two golden boys were only six months apart, and we took them on many adventures as a family, but two young dogs and me alone didn't go that well. After the loss of the first golden, I was able to take Scout on some day adventures with me, we had such great times. My one regret was that we didn't get to do more before it became too hard for his back legs to keep up. I have many adventures planned for our new boy, so he better like the car. We have places to go and things to explore.

We don't know yet which little golden boy will be ours, there are three boys in the litter. The breeder matches based on what we are looking for, and the personality of the puppy. She has been doing this a long time, so she knows what she is doing. Although...Mallory did ask for a gentle old soul...

Well...He may not be what she asked for, but he is exactly what she needed.

Still, it's hard not to have a favorite. Whoever our new beginning is, his name is Atticus.

Scene & Story - November 2016

I knew from the moment I saw this photo on my computer that this was my pick for November's Scene & Story.

I often struggle with showing a feeling other than solitude in my photography. This photo is brimming with feeling and emotion, and it may be the turning point in my work.

The scene involves my daughter, her 8-month old golden retriever, Findley, and a hike in the woods at a family favorite state park.

Now you tell me the story...


Joining my friend Leon of Sea Blue Lens for our monthly collaboration.

Saying Goodbye...

Loss changes us, there is no way it can not. I have been preparing for this loss for the last two years, ever since we had to put down our other golden retriever, Riley. Knowing then that the day would come all to soon when I would have to say goodbye to my dear Scout. Thankfully Scout made it almost two full years since that last goodbye. But the day has come and we must let go.

I have seen the decline this year, especially since June when I was sure it was time, but then he seemed to rally yet again and we carried on with life the best we could. But the last two weeks there has been noticeable change, a real challenge for him to get up, even slower than before when going outside to go the bathroom, the challenges of going to the bathroom. Monday night it seemed to all come crashing down, he was visibly shaking and needed to be carried down the steps. Tuesday morning when I got up, he couldn't get up, his back legs unable to support him. I had to make the call.

Scout was the gentlest soul, even as a puppy he never once put his mouth on us. Although he did have a great taste for paper, ripping it up and eating it. We just learned to not keep loose paper laying around. One year he got it in his head that he would help open one of my Christmas presents, before Christmas, while it was still under the tree. My copy of Anne Lamott's Small Victories will forever have a chunk missing out of the paper front cover.

He was the best adventure companion, even though we only had about six months of adventures together before it got too hard for me to get him in and out of the car, and his ability for long walks was gone. Still those hikes in the autumn-colored woods will forever hold a special place in my heart. And our picnics at roadside parks, me eating my Subway sandwich, him demolishing his kibble in six quick gulps.  He finally learned to enjoyed car rides on those adventures, stretching out on the backseat, happy to have the space all to himself.

He has been such a guiding light these last six months with the addition of little Findley, patiently teaching him the ins and outs of going outside to go to the bathroom, going for walks, and letting Findley play fight and chew on him. I pray that eventually more of Scout's gentle nature will find its way into Findley.

While I am filled with oceans of tears and sadness, there is also a huge wave of relief that has washed over me. I lived in constant fear that he would stumble down the stairs and hurt himself, or that he wouldn't be able to get up when either it was just me or Mallory at home, and we wouldn't be able to lift him. We were nearing a decision this week anyway, the timeline just got moved up a little bit. All in God's perfect timing.

Last night standing in the dining room, I watched as Mallory went to the dog food cupboard and scooped food for her dog. For the first time in thirty years, I didn't have a dog of my own to feed. Loss changes us.

Beach Stories

I spent a lot of early mornings at the beach last summer. It was my perfect kind of summer, cool nights followed by foggy mornings. It didn't hurt that the cool mornings kept beachgoers away until at least late morning, long after I had already returned home.

This summer has been hot! The beachgoers staking their claim to their spot of sand real estate by eight a.m. I haven't been to the beach for even one early morning.

Things changed this week. Labor Day is past, the summer people have gone home, the children are back in school, and the temperatures are making a slow downward slide. But the best part is the overcast skies. I love gray moody skies and the calm colors of steely blue water. I harnessed up the grandpuppy, Findley, and loaded him into the car for exercise and socialization.

Last year I wandered with my camera looking for stories. I found remnants of stories, and if I was a fiction writer those photos could have been a springboard for some very interesting tales. But I am not a fiction writer and something was missing.

Wednesday morning when Fin and I were at the beach, I discovered what was missing - the human voice. I had hoped to gather those kind of stories last year, but it was always a near miss, except for the guy with the Hooked on Jesus hat who told me how he weighted down his wife's body and threw her overboard from his boat because she had Alzheimer's. I don't count that, that was just plain weird. This year with a cute puppy at the end of the leash, more normal people want to talk to me.

It started with a little boy named Henry whom Fin and I encountered on our way back from the pier. Henry was a tow-headed boy of two, wearing a fine forming-fitting navy blue life preserver. Henry had a tight clutch on his mom's hand, but as Findley and I got closer I could see him desperately trying to pull his hand away, the look on his face screamed excitement at seeing a puppy. His parents being good parents asked me if their son could pet Findley. Findley loves little kids and does very well with them. I made Findley sit and Henry moved close, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. Suddenly Findley's tongue darted out and gave Henry a sweet kiss on the lips. Henry giggled with delight. Findley sat, Henry petted and gibbered, while his parents asked the puppy's name, introduced Henry and told me how much Henry loves dogs. From the way Henry's hand gently stroked Findley's fur, that was very apparent. More people were coming along the pier so Findley and Henry said their good-byes, I could see the sadness in each of their eyes.

Shortly after leaving Henry and on our way back to the car via the channel, we came across two twenty-something girls trying to take a selfie with the Big Red Lighthouse in the background, it wasn't working so well. They saw me and asked if I would take their photo with Big Red in the background. I said sure, we'll trade, I will take their photo while they hold Findley, they said sure. So it came to be that Katie and Samantha had their photo taken at Holland State Park with the Big Red Lighthouse in the background, and Samantha is holding the leash to a stranger's golden retriever puppy. Katie told me that they were from South Bend, Indiana and were on a traveling adventure along the Lake Michigan shore. Girls after my own heart. We got to talking about photography, traveling and I told them I write a blog about traveling and adventures. Katie immediately whipped out her phone and wrote down the URL for my blog. Katie wants to start a travel website and Samantha wants to do a food blog. I told Katie to send me an email, I would love to hear about their travels and if they ate at one of the local restaurants I suggested.

This week I discovered that people are hungry to share their stories, they want to interact with complete strangers, they want to build community. What if each of us took a morning to interact with strangers and share stories? What kind of world could this be?

Findley

Last spring when our daughter Mallory was finishing her last semester of college, she was debating where to live after college. Either move three hours away from home, where she had received a job offer, or move back home, uncertain about a job, but with a free place to live. I encouraged the moving back home with the offer that I would consider adding a second dog to the family. She was very determined to get a dog of her own.

Riley, Mallory, Scout

We had lost the family golden retriever Riley, who was her dog, the previous autumn. Thankfully, we still had his younger (only by six months) brother, Scout, but it still took time for all of us to heal from the loss. By spring we were closer to being ready to consider the possibility, especially knowing that Scout was 12 and his hips are not in great shape.

Scout

The dangling dog carrot must have worked because she did move back home, and found a job within a week of being home. I was thrilled to have her back, after her being gone for the past four years.

The conditions of the new puppy were - it was her decision, her money. She did a lot of research, debating between a Bernese Mountain Dog and another Golden Retriever. She talked to different breeders. Ultimately it came down to a local friend I had made on Instagram (who I had never personally met) had recently gotten a golden puppy. I messaged her for the breeder information and passed it along to Mallory, the rest is history.

Meet Findley. Born February 18, 2016. Came to live with us April 15, 2016.

In the litter he was known as Light Blue, because of the light blue collar he was identified by. He stood out to Mallory from the first photo she saw of the litter at two days old.

Light Blue - top of the pile between her feet

The breeder matches prospective owners with puppies based on what they are looking for and the personality of the puppy. Mallory had no idea if she would get light blue, but he always seemed to make himself known to her each time she visited.

On pickup day, Mallory still didn't know which puppy would be Findley, the breeder was debating between a couple for her. The two that the breeder brought out for her to decide between were Royal Blue and... Light Blue. That didn't make her decision any easier, they were both so cuddly. In the end she went with her heart and chose Light Blue. He was the one that had stolen it from the very beginning.

The introduction of Findley to Scout has gone extremely well. I think Scout is thrilled to have a friend again. He is definitely more perky and wants to be outside to play with Findley. This won't cure his hips, or turn back his age, but it does make his days joy filled again.

Someday, Mallory will move out on her own. I will worry a lot less about her knowing that Findley is there beside her as companion and protector.

The Coffee Shop Chronicles - No. 27

There is joy in learning new things on a subject you are passionate about, for me that subject is writing. I am on a quest to close the gap between the writer I am and the writer I want to be. Part of that quest involves taking writing classes. I was fortunate enough to have taken two classes last year with Amanda Mays of ALM Writes that helped me finally establish a daily writing routine. A routine I had been wandering around avoiding for the past two years. My daily routine has brought such joy to my writing life.

But even with a daily writing practice the gap remains between the writer I am and the writer I want to be. In the on-going quest to become a better writer I started a new writing e-course this week taught by the very talented Jenna McGuggian. We are learning about writing with our heads, our hearts and all of our senses. Which are all great things until I tried to put all of these components into this week's coffee shop chronicle. Let me tell you, things quickly became a muddled mess. I was trying to find the most exquisite, mouth-watering description for my cinnamon twist. When I really wanted to say "it was a less-than warm, slightly misshapen cinnamon twist that had been delivered to the coffee shop in a  white cardboard pastry box sometime in the early morning hours. It was sitting on a small glass plate with a plastic, fast food style fork as its only companion." Maybe next week I will try to savor the flavor a little more. Or, maybe I should go back to that first coffee shop, the coffee shop where the chronicles began and get a freshly, in-house made, double chocolate muffin with little surprises of mini chocolate chips inside. The chocolate chips having been made all soft and melty by the fact that the muffin has been warmed and slathered with fresh butter.

After endless pages of sensory overload and mindless dribble I decided to rip all the pages that I had written out of my notebook and throw them on the cutting room floor. What you are getting now is written directly from my heart, the place I have always written from best. I will slowly continue to add in the other components we are learning. I will continue to enrich the story without overloading it with detail. The gap can't be closed in one day, one story, or even in one writing course. It is a process, and I know in my heart that the joy is in the process.

I arrived at the coffee shop at eight o'clock on the dot.

This seems to be the perfect time to arrive. I have missed the coffee to-go, before work people and it is a little early for the morning coffee date people.

I had been coveting this perfect writing spot all week as Scout and I walked past the coffee shop windows on our morning walk. It is the perfect little window nook with three sturdy, wooden bar stools. One bar stool for my writing bag, one in the middle for me, and one empty one for space. You know that no one, unless desperate, would sit that close to a complete stranger. I was counting on that fact and I didn't feel the least bit bad about it. I like to spread out when I do anything creative and this was the perfect amount of counter space.

The big window makes me happy. I love looking out at life going on downtown. Being a photographer, I liken the window to my camera view finder. I can frame the picture, or the story anyway I want to, choosing what I want to focus on.

As I settled with my cinnamon twist and my chai latte, notebook and my pen, I began the process of framing the individual stories.

First, my favorite story, the continuing story of the little china doll grandmother from last week. This little lady is a relentless walker. I don't walk downtown on the weekends, but last weekend my husband and I happened to come downtown to his favorite breakfast place. They serve the best restaurant version of a home-cooked breakfast, and cinnamon rolls the size of dinner plates oozing with frosting. As my husband and I were turning the corner onto the main street, there she was crossing at the intersection ahead of us. I pointed her out to my husband, thankfully he had already read the chronicle that week so he knew who I was talking about. Earlier this week I gave her a big hearty Good Morning at our first crossing of paths for the day. I think I scared the crap out of her, because since then she won't even make eye contact with me. But on a positive note, she doesn't move over as far on the sidewalk when she sees Scout and I coming towards her. I continue to make it my goal to have a conversion with her someday.

My next story involves a man and his dog. I have never seen them downtown before. They paused outside my window so that the man's medium-sized Chewbacca looking dog could lift his leg to pee on a tree. Now I am not a fan of this type of behavior. I have a male dog but I take him discreetly behind the buildings to a little square of grass (currently a patch of snow) to pee. Thankfully Scout also squats like a girl, due I think to his less than stellar hips. Anyway while Chewbacca was leaving a trail of yellow on the tree and at the base of the tree, I turned my focus to Chewbacca's owner. This man could have been a tree himself, he was dressed in a big, puffy brown winter jacket and atop his head sat a forest green, knit stocking cap. He stood just as still as a tree too, waiting while his dog relieved himself. Maybe he was embarrassed by Chewbacca's behavior? Well you know what then? You can change that behavior. You are the owner, you have control.

After the man and his dog moved on, a movement in the tree caught my eye. A long, shiny white ribbon wrapped around a tree branch. A string belonging to some child's lost ballon, the ballon now long deflated. I sat mesmerized by the swaying of that shiny white ribbon in the gentle breeze. I wondered about the child who lost that ballon. Was it their prized possession from a long, tiring day spent downtown with mom and dad? I am certain there were tears involved, there always are in these situations. Did Dad save the day by going to get another ballon for the young one? Or were they just as crabby as the child by this point in time and told the child that they should have held on tighter? Unfairly placing blame on that young child for something that was an accident. We will never know, but I am hoping there was the appearance of another ballon before the day was over.

My last story framed through the window was of a man in a bright red snowmobile suit digging through the trash cans. In his hand was a plastic bag, he was collecting remnants of uneaten food. Did you ever think that your half eaten hot dog would be another man's meal? Every town, every city has their underbelly, the thing they don't want exposed. The man in the red snowmobile suit is ours.

5 Random Friday Finds

Find No. 1

I thought I had found a new place to write one of my Coffee Shop Chronicles while on a historic building tour Wednesday, until I went home and looked it up on line and found out it is permanently closed. Too bad, it looks like a cute place to write.

Find No. 2

I found some interesting hair when we were on a cemetery walk last weekend.

Find No. 3

I found this original vintage light fixture when we were on that historic building walking tour.

Find No. 4

I found that Scout can pose quite nicely when Glen is taking pictures of him.

Find No. 5

I found this picture of me sitting on the deck journaling taken by Glen while he was practicing his photography in our backyard. I love this picture because it is an everyday moment and captures the essence of the true me.

Joining Kim for Friday Finds

A Rainy Morning on the Peninsula

I knew that the forecast for the day was for an 80% chance of rain and storms. This is my second day of being alone, although I am not really alone, the dogs are here. Granted they are sleeping soundly and obviously comfortable.

I had saved up some photo editing in the event of a rainy day. Since I work on my iMac at home, I had to work out an alternative solution while on vacation and using my laptop. Cleverly I  brought along my extra external hard drive where I can put put edited Lightroom photos, without messing up my main external hard drive and my Lightroom catalogue. I was all set to load photos from my first full SD card when I realized I didn't bring my card reader. Then I stopped and thought a moment, always a wise decision. I think my laptop has a SD slot. Sure enough, back in business. I started loading the first 319 photos.

I changed where I usually sit in this rented home away from home. Normally I sit with my back to the french doors and the view outside. I guess a creature of habit, sitting at the same place as I would at home. Today Riley was lying behind my usual chair so instead of making him move, I moved instead. The things we do for our dogs. I sat so I was looking out the french doors, down the lawn to the lake. A much better view than that of the kitchen.

I sit here surrounded by visible signs of vacation; a Yahtzee game, a deck of cards, a magazine on the Best of Midwest Travel, a completed library book and an in-process library book, as well as a cup of tea. I can easily get lost looking out the french doors watching the rain fall and the mist gather over the lake. Then I realized that is exactly what vacation is, doing what ever you want and enjoying every moment of it.

The only sounds I hear are the rain falling on the patio, the sound of the dryer running, I love having a washer and dryer in the cottage. The laundromat is to be avoided at all cost, although I do think there could be some good stories there, none the less, I prefer to be doing other things will my clothes are getting clean. The only other sound is the infernal ticking of the metal rustic lodge looking wall clock. The very same clock that I pull the battery out of in the middle of the night when I come downstairs to sleep, because I am either too hot upstairs or the dogs dry-mouth smacking is driving me crazy.

The rain has slowed for the moment, so it is a good time to take the dogs out for a potty break.

Back inside, I return to the table, begin my 3rd cup of tea for the morning and revisit my laptop and the photos I am suppose to be editing. The photo I am working on is one I took of Mallory as she stood at the end of the dock. Her idea, my camera, along with some photos on her iPhone for her. I am having a hard time deciding which one I like best of the eleven I have edited with a variety of presets. I think this is my favorite, at least for the moment.

All of a sudden I notice a movement out of the corner of my eye. There to the left in the yard is a graceful, long legged doe. She cautiously crosses the yard. Thankfully Scout doesn't see her, since he is now lying where Riley was earlier. The doe enters the woods and out of my sight, so I look down towards the lake and I see a mama duck floating past the dock with a half dozen or more ducklings following in a line behind her.

Yes, a perfect rainy morning on the peninsula.

5 Random Friday Finds

Some finds from our girls' trip to Chicago last weekend...

Find No. 1

It seems that every time I am going to go to downtown Chicago it is raining. This time it was raining and cold, 39 degrees cold.

Find No. 2

I take a photo of the section where I am parked in these massive parking garages. Always helpful.

Find No. 3

I found some things never change. Mallory has always been the reader of the map or trail guide. Probably why she will make a great interpretative intern for the National Parks this summer. 

Find No. 4

A few great Anthropologie finds. A cute like cake pedestal, the mug was in the clearance section, and I was eyeing the measuring spoons when we were at our local store. I had to have them.

Find No. 5

I found these towels and tray at Ikea. 

A photography assistant is wonderful until he tries to steal the towels you are using in your still life set up and then leaves slobber marks on them.

Joining Kim for Friday Finds.