49

Herself speaks.

Today is my 49th birthday. 

It seems inconceivable, somehow, that I have been on this planet for so very long. And yet, is seems ever so brief sometimes. I still think of myself as being approximately twenty-four or twenty-five years old. Am I the same as I was, half a lifetime ago? No. 

I am infinitely richer, because of the people along my path. And I am grateful for them.

A birthday is a good time to try to turn over a new leaf, to make some resolutions. This year, I do something slightly different: instead of wishing for things for others when I blow out my birthday candles (as I usually do), today, I wish for myself: that I may find and do what brings me joy; that I may take better care of myself, and learn to be a better person, a little bit each day; and that I may appreciate all of the small moments with my Important People, because life is, ultimately, a tremendous series of small moments. 

And so begins another journey around the sun. 

Strip It Down

Today's earworm: Strip It Down, by Luke Bryan. And to think, some people might be under the misconception that country music can't be sexy.

Dirty dance me slow in the summertime heat
Feel my belt turn loose from these old blue jeans..

My, it's suddenly warm in here.

I hope you enjoy.

A Thoughtful Gift from Grandma

Song of an Old Dog

Herself speaks.

Elderly three-toothed dog is a bit sluggish. He has not been following me around as he usually does. He sits more. He walks slowly. I suspect he has Old Dog Hindquarters Issues - arthritis, weakness perhaps? Is he in pain? I hope not. A visit to the vet will help.

The day I brought him home with me, I probably knew in the back of my mind (though I never said it out loud) that this dog would likely not be with us as long as our previous dogs had been. Tio was already nearly 11, according to his paperwork; and although he is a small dog -- and thus likely to live longer than a larger dog -- we really cannot be certain what age he will attain. We shall see. Right now, he is eating reasonably well, and can make his way into the yard to take care of his dog business, and enjoys lying in the sunshine. My goal, therefore, is to ensure his comfort and Small Dog Happiness during his waning time.

On the way to work today, my iPod shuffled through to The Drugs Don't Work, by Ben Harper.

All this talk of getting old
Is getting me down, my love....
Now the drugs don't work
....
But I know I'll see your face again.

This is a song that reminds me of my beloved ottoman-shaped dog, and of making the decision not to perform surgery or radiation or any extreme measures for his cancer, but rather, to give him medication in the hopes to slow down the disease progression and to make him comfortable. The drugs helped with comfort, but did not change the speed with which the disease overtook him. Alas. Godspeed, ottoman-shaped dog. You are still loved, from this side of the bridge.

I still can't listen to the song without choking up a little bit.

I find myself thinking, I can't do this again -- go through the decision to help another creature to cross the bridge. And yet, I will. And I must -- because I can make the passage easier for that tiny furry soul. And that is what love is: to be there, with kindness, until the end.

Poop

Early Bird...or Bee

Band activities have begun for Offspring the Third, and so, I once more find myself out and about in the wee hours of the morning. It is a lovely time for a walk -- as long as I avoid the giant bumblebees, which apparently enjoy an early morning fly-about, too.

Return of the Fungi

Despite the dryness (note the brown grass), there are several mushrooms flourishing in the yard, including this rather large one that seems to be somewhat reminiscent of a mammary. Oh, dear.