Birthday

Last Sunday Richard, Caroline and I met my parents and my oldest sister, Teresa's and her daughter Rachel, to celebrate Teresa's 60th birthday together. (Teresa is a potter, mosaic tile worker and artist in general. There she is above. She won't mind me telling her age. She's like that.)

You might imagine some gloomy party in a retirement home or a low key afternoon in rocking chairs on the front porch with tea cakes and punch and coffee. Not these folks!

My father will turn 90 this winter. There he is in the picture at left. The cute girl in the photo is my neice, Rachel.

The family met at Dismals Canyon, a park in Northwest Alabama. It is an awesome place. Because of the jurassic look of the local fauna, the area was used as backdrop footage for the documentary, "When Dinosaurs Walked the Earth." The most extraordinary thing about the place are the bizarre little glow worms, the dismalites that give the caves their name, gracing the cave walls. These creatures are found only in China, New Zealand and this one series of caves in Alabama. How cool is that?

This is just the kind of thing that my folks enjoy. Nature excursions were common in my youth and I relished the experiences that my wonderful, down to earth parents exposed me to. Teresa especially enjoys the out doors. It was such a nice way to spend the day with family, out in nature. Mom and Dad skipped their usual Sunday morning trip to church, but if you ask me, the time spent in nature's ethereal magnificance was an excellent way to celebrate spirituality. There is my mom at left climbing down form a rock formation. She rocks!... (no pun intended)

We met about 11 am and started with a hike. This is a well worn path but much of the terrain requires climbing and squeezing through tight spots. Cool air seeps from the caves through cracks in the rock walls making it seem almost as if the outside is air conditioned.

Mom and Dad both seemed so excited and happy. Mother slowed the group down a bit, but not because she couldn't keep up. She likes to stop and check things out and go off on trails. Thankfully she did not dig up anything as she is want to do, often in areas that carry stiff penalties for taking wildlife from the park.

"Well, it needs thinning," has always been her reasoning when we remind her she is breaking the law. Luckily she has not been apprehended yet and so still remains a free woman and at the ready to 'thin' plants wherever needed.

After about an hour and a half we completed the hike and then proceeded to pull out the good food brought from home and had a lovely pot luck kind of picnic. Fresh fruits and vegetables, items ready for sandwhich making and yummy honey sweetened oat cake for Teresa and homemade ice cream for those in the group that can do dairy. Sadly I am not one of them.

After that was complete everyone headed for the creek except Daddy. He heroicly claimed he was going to watch over our belongings but I suspect he was planning some quiet time and a quick nap.

Now, I don't know if you have ever been swimming in a spring fed creek, but I am here to tell you that even in late July the water is quite chilly! My daughter Caroline was the first in. There she is at left. I reluctantly followed.

Teresa and Rachel stepped a toe in and were undecided and leaning toward a no. Then my mother, being as 'Marie' as ever, stands ups and anounces, "well, I learned to swim in a creek and this may be the last chance I have to do it again. I'm getting in!"

(There I am at left shivering and swimming. Not seen is Richard - he's behind the camera! ) Mother eased her way into the frigid water. Once swimming and moving around the overwhelming cold dissipates and the swim becomes quite refreshing... but it takes some guts to make that first plunge.

Teresa and Rachel, I guess feeling a bit called out by this senior woman braving the cold, relented and joined us in the water. All the women in the group took the plunge and we had a blast!

It was fun, the kind of fun that stays with you and bonds family and friend. At right see the gathering of Campbell women warming themselves back up on the rock bed before swimming again.

How lucky I feel to have my folks still with me, so strong and inspiring, so of the earth. Thanks for showing me what is important and how to really enjoy life. And I am determined, Marie Hamner Campbell, that you will yet swim in another creek!

Moonflower

Mindy, a fellow heartwood student, gave me some seeds way back in spring while I was still in yoga training. She described the beautiful night blooming flowers that had produced them and offered seeds to any of us that wanted. I took ten or so seeds and planted them in early summer. It seemed nothing would come of them.

I waited and waited and had all but given up and planned to use the large pot on the front porch for something else. Finally after weeks a little sprout poked its head through the soil. It grew and sent a small, semingly insignificant vine up the the side of the pot, but nothing terribly exciting.

And then two nights ago, right after the slug incident, we noticed this amazing bloom. It lasted just the night. How lucky we noticed. I think we might have missed it if Richard hadn't decided to get real close and personal with his slimey new friend.

I think one will open tonight. I'll be checking. Thanks Mindy!

July 4, 2009

Hell must be covered in ice!

I did what I once swore would never happen. I accepting a playing engagement for playing music in front of actual human beings!

Paul Walters, my music partner, and I have been practicing together for a couple of years. We figured out our singing and playing worked well together over the several months we both attended Bill Ledbetter's weekly living room jams just for fun. Both of us being non-smokers, we would fiddle around with guitar and vocal work waiting on the others to return from frequent smoke breaks. We discovered we harmonized well, liked the same kind of music and both love to be involved with music events whether playing, arranging or attending. Paul has worked City Stages every year since it's inception and is the president of the Magic City Blues Society. I've been involved in music since a child, from piano lessons to the high school marching band. I've explored various guitar styles and have always found playing music something I never seem to tire of.

It all started when Paul called one night, after attending a Gillian Welch show at Zydeco and said he had an idea that we should form a duet. I'd played for the dogs and cats all my life, but getting a taste of playing with others had begun to appeal to me and I was relieved to have another outlet since Bill had canceled the weekly open living room jams.

We had fun as I basically cut my teeth on my resonator with Paul. We were starting to get compfortable with some work. But then the duet had to take a back seat while I worked on my yoga teaching certification at heartwood. I assured him I would be back on, full tilt, once the course was complete. (at right, working with Gilda, my Johnson tricone)

I graduated the last weekend of May of this year and as promised, I started working more with daily practice and making our practice time together a priority. And then the call came. I knew it would come some day and I wondered how I would react.

Paul says, "We have an opportunity," and he told me of the South Side 4th of July Block Party, an event he had actually started in his old neighborhood near Lorino's grocery store some twenty years or so before. The location provides a great place for gathering and watching fireworks. I've attended a couple of them before. I never imagined I'd be playing one day.

I could hear something in his voice. He thinks I'm going to say no, and my first instinct is to say, "I'm not ready," but I didn't. To my own horror, I hear myself say, "Okay." Did I just say that. The event would be in some 5 days and I have just agreed.

We practice twice during the week and I practice morning and night, but my fear grows with each passing day. I can feel waves of nausia when I stop and think about what is coming. It feels like some dreaded surgery and prison conviction awaits me.

I've explored where this comes from. I think I have a couple of ideas, but it is quite profound. For instance, if I had 4 friends at my house and we were sitting around talking, I'd be happy as a clam. If I had to stand up and speak on something to them, and they were all sitting in chairs and watching, I'd stammer and stumble. Maybe lots of folks are this way, but to me it seems I'm the only one. I whine and complain and wring my hands and bore all my friends about this dreaded thing I must do.

And then Wendy, Paul's wife, calls me out. "Aren't you supposed to know how to calm down and get chilled out with all that yoga you've been studying?"

"Well, but, and well... yeah," I admit rather sheepishly.

(At left, before the performance with Wendy. I may look relaxed but it's a bit of an act. I am just about to play and I'm working really hard to keep myself even.)

Saturday I woke early to prepare, but not with study or practice. I would spend about two hours with a yoga practice. I did some vigorous yoga to expel my nervous energy. I performed several vinyasa's, a kind of yoga flow series, that revolved around warrior I and warrior II, good poses for summoning courage, and then I did a long Yoga Nidra meditation, a form of self hypnosis designed to reverse negative beliefs and implant more positive ones into the subconscious. My goal is to try and reprogram whatever is inside me that paralyzes me when asked to perform. It worked, too. I was strangely calm after my practice.

It was a small crowd and I must admit I was kind of relieved. And then a couple of my friends showed up to offer support. Thanks Shawn! And thanks, Lauren, you wonderful yogini! This on advice of my boss, Jon Adamson, who played in the local band, 4AM ten or so years ago. Such a nice guy - he tells me to be sure and have my 'fans' there for backup. He was right. I can hear Richard and Wendy and Lauren all cheering me on and it is so welcome and comforting to my ears.
(left - Paul Walters, and yours truly)

Afterward, I relax and have the time of my life. The night is perfect. The fireworks were lovely and the company was grand.

I did it.

What next?

(at right dancing with Lauren - I am definitely a lot more relaxed now!)

Living Deluxe

I'm doing the thing that I love to do and have all my life been well-known for. My husband even wrote a line into our wedding vows about it. It was something like, 'I promise to love, honor and rearrange.' He's lucky. I actually do this much less frequently than I did in my younger years when rearranging the house only took one day to complete with little recover time needed.

We've been working on the trimming down, going toward streamlined, organic and recycled. I'm really feeling upbeat and optimistic. I'm down right cheerful as I lug the little bamboo drawers out of the den. This Pier I treasure is retiring from office work and headed for kitchen duty. As I work things become organized, clean and sparkly.

Nobody has ever quite understood my need for this activity, the wondrous feeling as you nearly complete the job. The exhilaration when looking at my clean home with artistic flair. It's a joy to walk through. Cozy nooks are here and there and conversational seating with lovely still life arrangements abound.

But then there is always that one room. I promise to return and put all the rest of the stuff away and I mean it. I really mean it. My intentions are to put each and every item in its place creating nothing but the purest of organization. The sacrificial room where you put all the crap you really don't need but can't seem to throw, or even give away is not a luxury we enjoy in this small Homewood bungalow. You know the one, where you close the door so it won't bother you and declare your home well kept and only go back in when it's time to move. Being the daughter of a depression era mother I'm just programmed that way and so there is all that stuff. I never get back to that last bit of stuff and eventually it all infects its way back into my home filling up the breathing spaces and gathering dust.

And then on my cheerful way to the kitchen my belief in this project is momentarily shaken. A distant memory has popped up; a long since passed rearranging adventure. I'm at Pier I wandering the aisles looking for something that will do the trick. The perfect piece of furniture for And this will be the piece of furniture that makes everything neat and clean, organized and efficient. And once in place I know that my home will forever and ever be neat and clean, and without cat or dog hair, rabbit pellets or dirty dishes. I will have hours upon hours to do just as I pleased and all those things I've been meaning to do will finally get done.

But I am only deterred for a moment. I am even more certain that this is the one that is going to take, the plan that really will make things around the house just 'work' better, like at Martha's where there's never any mess. And there is a chance. I'm not consuming like I used to. I've let go of some things that I didn't really need anymore. I've begun to realize how nice it is to be free of excess. In looking for the life of my dreams it's never been about what I didn't have. It's always been about what I have that I don't need and as I work it seems the home is truly becoming transforming.

My dear Richard dutifully helped all weekend and we worked hard! But as we laid our exhausted bodies into the bed I saw him look around the room and I watched as his face grew bright. And I could see; he got it!

"It looks so nice. It's like a fancy hotel room!" He smiles really big and then he says, "It's just.. it's deluxe!"

Yup, I married the perfect man!

Truth is a river that is always splitting up into arms that reunite. Islanded between the arms, the inhabitants argue for a lifetime as to which is the main river. - Cyril Connolly

There is an alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmuted into wisdom, which, if it does not bring joy, can yet bring happiness.

Pearl S. Buck

I have obviously taken a break from writing here. Now it is time to get back.

I'm enthusiastic and excited about life. My plans are to begin my year long study of yoga teacher training and gain my certification in May of '09. I feel inspired and renewed and it feels like my life is now going in the proper direction. I've put down my fists - given up the struggle, and like water flowing down a river everything now moves so easily and with sureness and purpose.

A story from the universe: Stop Your Fighting.
Today my daughter received a valuable lesson. She prides herself on being frank and honest but can sometimes take it to the point of being overly harsh. I don't think this is helping her. Today she was lost in an unfamiliar city and made an incorrect turn. A cop pulled her over and she immediately smarted off to him, saying he should have seen she was having difficulty. She blamed him! As you can imagine he was not amused! He immediately wrote her a ticket. Had he been treated with respect he might likely have just helped her out and let her go on her merry way. Instant Karma! I hope she can learn from this. If so, the expensive ticket will be well worth it.

I am thoroughly convinced that the ‘good things’ in life are not dependent on what must be obtained, but instead are there already, merely waiting on the dumpage of excess.

For instance, services like my land line; the phone chords clutter my office, I spend 30 bucks a month and I use it very rarely. I no longer need to pay for this. And there are the things filling up the space of my home. I am full to busting - why would I keep those ugly pants and that series of books I’ll never read? And then there are activities that no longer serve me, like spending time cleaning up all that shit I don’t need. Or the phobias that stop me from what I want to do.

We are streamlining our house, we are monitoring our spending and we are re-sorting our priorities. It may sound as if we have added stringency to our lives, but what it feels more like is liberation. I can move more freely, I know what to do next and I am so excited. We have more time and are filling the voids with things that fulfill us. Can life get much better than this?

I'll let you know in about 2 or 3 months how this is working out but last night we slept peacefully, feeling that we are at last moving in a steady and forward direction.

I can become dark and brooding and wanting to wallow in self pity. Eeeeeeeeee I don’t like that girl. So what to do?

Ironically I tend to write my stuff for ‘Spread Something Good’ immediately following an ‘event not so good’. It is my effort to move in the right direction as I assume a ‘not so good’ experience is really just one of the many guideposts I’ll encounter in my lifetime.

So this is my therapy and my chance to view life in positive way. I want to spread this idea as well. Not because I’m any smarter than anybody else, but feeling good is contagious. Maybe nobody reads this but me. That means at worst I am bringing myself back to center. Maybe once in a blue moon someone happens upon it. Maybe it will do some good. But I can at least be sure I’ll do no harm.

It seems to me that life is just a series of adjustments to your path. Mostly you veer from right to left in an effort to stay in your groove and continue forward. Sometimes you veer way off and must struggle to get back. Sometimes you change your path altogether. Sometimes you back track – don’t kid yourself. We never stand still.

All the while you are gathering up and letting go. Things and people come into your life while other things and people go. Sometimes you must make the difficult decision to push away. Sometimes you are hurt when they fall aside. But these changes, however painful, are just getting you where you need to be. I think on all the years I’ve hurt for someone or something that ‘left me’. Truth was I just didn’t need to ‘stay there’.

A good friend is a rarity. And I think probably a bore – no fun. When we go out to have fun, and intentionally veer off our path a bit, we don’t want to be reminded of where we are. It is more comfortable to be with those accepting and joining in on the veering. We say, please stay here with me in this icky place. And so there it is.

I am coming out of the dark. I don’t want to be there. This feels good. I’m not in a crowd, but hey, those around me are fabulous.

Thanks

LOOK, IT'S A POST!

June is coming to a close and I’ve not posted since April! So much has happened. I’ve added a bathroom to my home. I’ve added a husband to my family. I’ve endured a serious illness and been to Mexico on vacation. Just about had all I could handle. No, correction, I’ve had more than I could handle.

I’m embarrassed to notice that my March post speaks of listening to my body and not letting myself get overwhelmed. Apparently that was just the cliff’s notes to the course that was coming and I evidently did not absorb much from the summary.

So, here I am 2 weeks past my wedding and 4 months past Bell’s Palsy. I made it through both. The Bell ’s palsy was hell. The wedding was a blast but seems like a vague dream that I observed from outside of my body. Mexico was heaven and the time off with Richard was great.

Now it is back to the real world and I miss my new husband. He works a different shift from me. I only see his sweet, sleepy face for about ten minutes before I leave for work in the morning. He gets about twenty or thirty minutes of incoherent conversation with his comatose wife after coming home from his evening shift. This contrast from the 9 days of being together has put me in rather a funk and my gray, windowless cube walls are making it difficult for me to be thankful I have a good job to come home to.

But the weekend is upon us. When Richard gets off tonight, he will be mine for a couple of days. I’m looking forward to having the closeness again, until next week when I’m delivered the reality that comes between us and shows me how much I love him.

SEEKING

Today I got nothing.
And I'm looking.

Listening to My Body

I made a vow several months ago to not be so busy.

Since that time I have been trying to move mountains in order to achieve this illusive goal. I have spent an exorbitant amount of time working toward the realization of an easy and carefree life. And so, here I go moving things around, throwing things away, bagging things up, re-organizing.

I have spent the last 5 days on the couch contemplating the irony that I have injured myself while working toward the goal of relaxation. And with no adequate prescriptions to assist, have spent those said days horizontal and with my favored elixir, the chardonnay.

The positive things that have occurred during my stay on the couch are these:

I have learned how to use the television remote.
I have learned that moving things from one room to another is not the same as organization nor does this create more space.
I have also learned that everything doesn't have to have a deadline. Some things can just get done when they get done.
I have learned that super organization is probably not going to occur for me in this life.
I have learned that what is keeping me from the lifestyle I desire has nothing to do with what I don't have, but all to do with what I do have - and hoard!
And I have learned who really loves me even when I'm down.

I have also found that relaxing and allowing yourself down time is not an achievement but a decision.

I think tonight after I get home I'll take a walk and then watch some Andy Griffith reruns on the television so don't call me because I'm busy.

LOVE

So, here we are in February, a month devoted to love. Wouldn't it be nice if scheduling a holiday for love was about as silly as scheduling a holiday for breathing. Wouldn't it be cool if loving was something we all just did constantly and when someone suddenly found themselves not loving, sirens would blare and emergency professionals would race in to resuscitate a person's ability to love.

Yes, I know this seems a bit sappy, happy. I know I might at times seem a bit too full of sweetness, sugar and light. But to you individuals who find this thinking distasteful and unrealistic and a bit too Pollyanna, take your grumpy-ass funk somewhere else. Yup, I have my moments. I just make sure I don't write on the days that I'm grumpy and sullen. But the good thing about those days is that, after wallowing in them for a spell, interesting information will reveal itself if allowed. It is usually at those times I am inspired to write.

Today started rough. But I have learned today how to let some things pass. And that makes me feel better.

Time for a glass of wine and a good night of music. And happy evening!

BLEW PAST CHRISTMAS WITHOUT A PEEP

I've been so busy! It has an amazing 90 days or so.

Christmas preparations were interrupted by a business trip to Boston. Good stuff as I had great food, learned lots and visited my adorable niece. But it made getting ready for Christmas quite a task.

And as if that weren’t enough, I had previously committed to being the accompaniment to my sister’s vocal Christmas carol presentation at her holiday open house. This was my first public gig and it was good for me. I’ve been hoping to wrestle my stage freight to the ground once and for all and this was a great place to start sparing. I mean, let’s face it; the crowd was made up of our family members and her close friends and fellow church members. It wasn’t like I was going to be heckled off the floor no matter how bad I sucked. Nothing out there but oozing love and well wishes. Regardless, I was terrified. I am happy to report, however, that I survived the ordeal and actually quite enjoyed it. Thank God one of her wayward friends showed up with a bottle of chardonnay that I quickly opened, it seeming almost like permission to have a drink at the all out Baptist gathering. I’m told I did quite well and that the many mistakes I know I made went unrealized. Of course, it was a family member that told me this. That’s okay. It was a start!

That passed, it was all out Christmas readiness time. I adore the holiday season and all that goes with it. I enjoy decking the halls and Christmas carols, gatherings with good friends and even a bit of cold weather. I love giving gifts and getting them as well. And Santa was good to me this year, that’s for sure.

I got a ring from Richard. It is a beautiful piece of jewelry with a clear stone, I am told (I’m clueless about these things). The design is simple with elegant lines and it came to me as a perfect fit, both physically and aesthetically. I think it fits our relationship as well. It is shiny and clear and free of overly showy ornamentation with a thin band that doesn’t bind or crimp, but hugs my finger comfortably. The man actually went to both knees to ask for my hand. In the early hours of Christmas Eve 2006 we made a pact, a promise. This is it. Buds for life. Woa!

New Years felt especially happy this year. The upcoming year looks to be a bright one with lots of excitement and changes to come and I am looking so forward to it. 2007 is going to rock!

GIVING THANKS

Most everyone enjoys giving thanks on Thanksgiving Day. And what’s not to be thankful for? The table is overloaded with delicious food and all the people that are most important are all around. Even the leaves on the trees are consorting to fashion the most perfect and wondrous day with their brilliant colors.

What is a challenge is being thankful on less than perfect days. It is hard to be aware of what lovely things may be at work for you or what tragedy might be avoided only because things, at the moment, seem bleak.

Did that flat tire keep me from a head on collision? Did having to stay late at work divert some other deal breaking confrontation with a loved one? These gifts we can never know of, but some gifts, in hindsight, we can see clearly.

One Tuesday night I happened into a restaurant near my home. Work was becoming unsatisfying and stressful. At home a huge mess and angry daughters awaited me. I was out Christmas shopping without enough money. It seemed there was no positive direction to turn in my life, anywhere. So I did something I NEVER, EVER do. I stopped for a drink BEFORE going home.

Now don’t get me wrong, everyone who knows me is aware that I enjoy my glass or two (or three) of wine every evening. But that comes after dinner. Maybe, just maybe, I'll have a glass while I’m cooking, but that’s only if it’s been a really rough day. But this night was different. I couldn’t even begin to imagine going home where stress had hit an all time high. My younger daughter was angry with me. My older daughter had moved back home with her three dogs, bringing the total to five canines in a very small house. She was pushing me to the edge and on top of that, they were fighting with each other. The garbage was ransacked daily by the dog pack and it normally required about 45 minutes of cleaning to even think about beginning dinner. What had been my sanctuary had become my living hell. I did not want to go home.

So instead I went to the BBQ restaurant I’d eaten in at minimum of once a month for at least three years. However this time I sat at the bar.

Who would have ever suspected that the stress of my household, which at the time I saw as some undeserved punishment, was actually the catalyst to great happiness. Who could have known that the attention of the handsome bartender would be the start of so much more than an enjoyable hour at a neighborhood hangout? Was I pushed into his arms? Is that what it took for us to find each other? Would it have happened some other way if not this?

Thanksgiving, not just the warm-up holiday for Christmas anymore. So here goes. Thanks for fighting, girls! Hey dogs! Thanks for destroying my kitchen every day for months on end. Chip, thanks for making my job so miserable! And thanks, universe. I'll listen a little closer next time. And thanks, Richard! It was about time you showed up! I’d been waiting.

HE MAKETH ME TO LIE DOWN IN GREEN PASTURES

Richard and I went to Church on Sunday. We loaded up the automobile with a full picnic basket, a guitar and a camera and headed northeast for Buck’s Pocket.

In this unbelievably beautiful setting, many emotions were experienced. Among them was the sensation of awe as we completed our ascension to one of the many bluffs and rested, overlooking miles and miles of brilliant color. There was the joy and satisfaction of fine dinning on a leftover roast dinner with a good merlot and a guitar case for a table. There was the incredible closeness we felt, experiencing this beauty and tranquility together. There was even comic relief when I spilled water all over Richard’s foot and he took off his sock, hanging it over a branch in the futile hope it would dry by the end of our picnic.

We were quieter driving home. But the silence was full. It was a reverence and thankfulness. I can imagine no Carnival Cruise more enjoyable, no tastier meal served with greater care. I can imagine no day finer than this. The vibrant colors of the leaves, the sounds of the forest and the view of the cerulean blue sky were all for free All that glory, just sitting there, wanting to be viewed, we only needed to go and enjoy it.

Hallelujah!

GERTIE CARDEN circa 1982 - OCTOBER 25, 2006
Gertie died yesterday. I received the news a day late as I was out yesterday and the announcement was on my office voicemail. Gertie was my daughter's elderly dog. I guess that made her my grand-doggie.

Judging from her attitude, Gertie was once quite the looker. Melissa provided an assortment of outfits for her. Her favorite was a sassy blue jean skirt paired with a pink 'foxy lady' tank. She would sashay about with all the in your face kind of confidence you'd expect from Madonna or Prince. Happily for Gertie, her cloudy eyes failed years ago and she was unaware of the off-putting condition that caused her skin to hang in great folds and wrinkles from her mid-section and down. She didn't seem bothered by the odd configuration of the remaining 3 teeth that jutted out strangely from a severe under bite. She went to her grave believing that she was as breath taking as ever. I’m glad for this.

Gertie had many endearing qualities. For one, she was a brave lady. Even though she weighed less than 20 pounds, I am here to testify that nobody but nobody was going to put one over on the Gert. Big dogs or little, her space was her space and she did not mind letting this be known.

Another quality was her positive attitude. She lived in my household for quite a while and was always upbeat and happy. She never seemed to mind or be daunted by the frequent change of layout in my home even though that meant she had to endure many bumps while learning her way.

I loved her sweet little habit of helping you lift her. Just as you began to hoist her up she would do a little jump with her hind legs as if she were rising of her own volition.

When Missy first met her, she had long since been dumped at the vet where Melissa worked. I suppose her previous owners no longer found her charming, believing that a pet is something one can just use up and throw away. The vet didn’t want to put her down, but who would ever adopt this old, unattractive, blind and toothless dog...

Melissa would. Because of Melissa, this little dog got several pampered years at the end of her life. And she deserved them.

Thanks, Melissa. I’m so glad there are people like you out there.

Thanks, Gertie. You knew how to live. Thanks for showing me.

I’m sorry I rearranged the furniture so much. I’m sorry I didn’t know to hug you goodbye last time you came to visit. I miss you already.

STAYING UP WHILE DEALING WITH PAIN

This morning I was in line in the cafeteria and a guy in front of me dropped some change. He is kind of a strange guy.. terrible complexion, overweight and always alone. I don’t know him or even know his name. He walks with an odd limp and I suspect he has an artificial leg. He was trying to pick up his change and he was having a hard time and couldn’t see where it all was. I just jumped down and said, ‘Oh, I see it’, and got it for him. I dropped a dime in his hand and gave him a smile and a warm 'You're welcome', to his thank you.

This is a man who probably doesn’t receive an abundance of acts of kindness. He seemed so grateful at my retrieving the dime. It made me not hurt for a minute and I realized - there's your prozac.

Make an effort. It's not altruistic, it's selfish. It just feels good.