From Katie and her Mama to all our blog and Facebook friends!
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Author Archives: dawnkinster
Wordless Wednesday
Shhhhhh……Katie here, don’t tell Mama I’m talking to you. This is supposed to be wordless. Yea. Right. Like a Sheltie is ever quiet, you know what I mean? Anywho… I think my Mama has been feeling a little down and I’ve done my best to remind her she has me, me me ME! And what more could she want, right? So guess what? I, me, myself and I, arranged for the sun to come out today! Just for her! (Well, if any of the rest of you see it too that’s OK, I can share.) I am, after all, nothing less than a Princess…and a Princess gets whatever she wants, right? And I wanted sunshine. So I asked, and I got it and I sure hope she appreciates it.
Now I need to go take a nap. This has all been exhausting.
You can thank me later.
Feeling blue
Sun sinks on another day.
It’s only mid-winter…and it’s been a long cruel season already. First there was the massive layoff at work causing the loss of several really good people from my life. Then there was the permanent loss of a friend. And just tonight I learned that Casper de Ghost crossed the rainbow bridge. And yes I know the loss of a dog I’ve never met is not the same as the loss of a human friend in real life.
But still. I’m feeling blue.
Tracks across my heart
And I’m looking at the tracks across the back yard with my dog Katie and wishing there were flowers blooming and sun shining and that time could stand still during the good stuff and that we didn’t all have to go through loss after loss after loss and just generally feeling blue.
And somewhere on the television a doorbell dings and Katie flies off the chair we share charging the front door in order to announce danger, in order to protect her house, and, I know, me.
And I have to smile and acknowledge that not everything is lost and even much of what seems lost is not really gone, just somewhere different.
And I go and collect my crazy dog and we sit down to watch some silly sit-coms so that we both can laugh for a little bit and forget about the danger just outside the front door.
And it is good.
Always watching
Weekly photo challenge – selfie
WordPress challenged us all to post a selfie in this week’s photo challenge. Given the kind of weather we’ve had up here this winter I thought this was appropriate.
Baby it’s cold outside.
As usual you can go to the original post in the link above and see what others are posting in this challenge. I hope that they are warmer! Here and here and here are a few of my favorites that have posted so far. If you go to the original link there are likely to be even more that you like.
Who is that old lady?
You know how when you’re talking to an old lady you often have to slow down and explain stuff to her? Or help her figure out some new thing? Or maybe drive more slowly as you come up behind her because her turn signal is on and you’re not sure if she’s really going to turn. Or not? I hope you were kind, didn’t roll your eyes. I hope you were patient. Because I think that old lady might have been me.
I’ve been watching me at work lately. And I’ve been watching them. Those of you my age will know the them of which I speak. They are all tall and thin, wearing sharp suits. With short skirts and very high heels or tightly knotted ties, sharply creased trousers and shiny shoes. They hurry to meetings in pairs or groups carrying their half open laptops and talking seriously about IMPORTANT THINGS that will have IMPACT in their departments and across the company. They are intense. They are young. I squish over to the wall as they swish by, move aside as they come crashing down the stairwell, heels clicking, as I am slogging up in my heavy snow jacket, hat, worn out but warm mittens, boots, steamed over glasses. I don’t think they even see me.
They are in my department too, noticing when I do things in a slow methodical way on my computer. Noticing when toolbars are appearing that don’t need to be, when I open things in a less than efficient manner. They show me, patiently, how to do things faster, cleaner, BETTER. I add those bits of knowledge to my brain hoping something else as or more important doesn’t fall out. I polish my smudged glasses and continue on as I was because I know how to do things my way and it all gets done. Doesn’t it?
These days I catch a glimpse of me walking the halls at work and see someone who is a lot older than I thought I was. It’s a jolt every time. But I see me in the young people rushing about enthusiastically too. They remind me of me just a few moments ago. Or was it years. Well never mind, my memory is slipping. More and more frequently I realize that the old lady I see on the street and smile at is me.
I hope I can be patient with her.
You’d be 85
Today is Dad’s 85th birthday. It seems something of a milestone, one that shouldn’t be forgotten, though I can’t imagine him at 85. I suppose he would have been similar to the Dad I knew at 75, maybe with a few more wrinkles, but the same twinkling eyes, the same stories, the same advice.
Dad and his little sister
I can’t send him a card through snail mail, can’t email him or give him a call. I can’t even text him, but then he wouldn’t know what that was anyway. On the other hand…if he were still here I bet he’d have the latest smart phone because the whole information at your fingertips phenomenon would have fascinate him. Though I wonder if he would have sprung for the expense of having internet available 24/7. No, I think maybe instead he’d have been content to be in his boat, watching the sun set, floating in the warm water of his lake. Sure he’d check his messages when he got back to the house, but I don’t think that smart phone would have been used much on the boat.
In his canoe.
The little boy who loved the water, grew up on the river, and took my Mom for a canoe ride on their first date, grew up to be a father of four kids who got to grow up on a lake and spent many summers canoeing there and on rivers. We got to camp in National Parks across the country and see things lots of kids never did. We got to sit around the dinner table laughing until our stomachs hurt and tears ran down our faces. We got to ride bikes to town and climb trees in the woods and go water skiing after work. We got to have a dog named Sam and guinea pigs named Barney and ride the lawnmower and plant a huge garden. We got to go to college and grow up and live in nice places.
Most of that is due to having a Dad who was responsible and supportive. And who loved us unconditionally.
So thank you Dad. And Happy Birthday.
I hope you get this birthday card and know we all love you and miss you.
Forever.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Object
This week the WordPress photo challenge is Object. You’d think that would be easy. Just take a quick shot of something..anything…right? All things are objects. Still. It should be more than that – maybe something that represents your part of the world, a photo that is intriguing, interesting. That makes the challenge, well, challenging.
During my drive to doggie school yesterday I saw a couple of things that might fit the challenge, but the weather was so bad there was no place to safely stop. I’ve kept those items in mind for a day when the snow is not blowing sideways, the roads not so slick with slush. You may see some of them yet.
In the end, for this challenge, I looked no further than my own driveway where the truck was parked covered in the latest snowfall. Such interesting shapes revealed themselves that I had to see whether or not the camera saw it the same way.
Rear view mirror
And because I couldn’t decide which photo I liked better, I’ll give you another.
Blinker
We are pretty tired of snow here. Sure it’s beautiful, but it was more beautiful in December. Now it’s just work. And cold.
Going nowhere.
There are so many objects to focus on for a photo study. Look around your house. You don’t have to go on a grand adventure to find something interesting. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with. As usual, here’s a few of my favorites of those already submitted. Just click on any of the links. Or you can click on the word Object at the top and go to the original post and look at lots more!
Black and white
Morning light
I glanced out the window this early morning, a break from reading emails and blog posts, and realized the world outside looked black and white.
Before the day’s light brightens up the yard it was a study in bare trees and snow cover. For a moment everything seemed so simple, obvious. Black or white.
But as it does every day, the light changes and colors become more visible and nothing turns out to be either totally black or totally white.
And isn’t that a good thing.
Morning watch
How you doing Girlfriend?
She wasn’t my BFF. We weren’t childhood friends, I didn’t go to school with her, never ran a race, took a class, or joined a book club with her. I didn’t know all the personal details of her life, never went out for a drink or hung out on weekends with her. But she was a friend. We saw each other in the halls at work, ran into each other in the ladies room. We stood and talked, long conversations about life, family, choices. We picked each other up when we were having a bad day. At the very least we smiled and waved as we scurried about our work. She cared when my parents died. I cared when her marriage was over. She’d greet me with “How you doing Girlfriend?” and a smile. Sometimes I’d tell her how I was doing, sometimes not. But I was always glad she asked.
I wasn’t unique in my relationship with her. She was everyone’s Mom at work. She was where people went for an aspirin or advice. Where people went when they needed a break from the work grind, to talk about her grand-kids and admire their photos on her cubicle wall. To laugh. To commiserate. To recharge. She wore socks decorated with jingle bells during the holidays every year and we all smiled when we heard her walk by; she was the epitome of Christmas spirit, our own Christmas elf.
And when she didn’t feel well this winter we all cared. When she was gone from work awhile we all asked about her. “Not good” I was told when I asked her boss early in January. He was going to see her that weekend so I said I’d write her a note for him to deliver. The next day, giving him the note I heard more; it was more serious than I realized and I knew my note was inappropriate. I rewrote it that night, changed it from a cheery couple of lines to a two page letter telling her how much I enjoyed our conversations, how grateful I was that we were friends, how I would miss hearing those jingle bell socks as she went by during the holidays. I gave her my home phone number and my personal email in case she needed another long conversation.
I never heard from her. She died Thursday night – we heard the news at work Friday morning. Devastated does not begin to describe my sorrow. Our collective sorrow.
She was a little person, probably not five foot tall, with a heart as big as the sky. I can hear her voice in my head, I see her walking the halls at work. I strain to hear those bells. I tried to remember the last time I saw her, talked to her. She used to send me emails about jumbo loans that had to be underwritten in my area but had been sent in error to her department. When it was busy I was never happy to see her emails and we used to kid about her sending me the work. My last email from her was Christmas Eve.
Her: “Happy Holidays. I have just moved 3 files to your new deal
queue… Thanks”
Me: “Thanks. no more gifts now….we don’t deserve them! 🙂 ”
Her: “Oh, but my friend, you DO deserve gifts!! ….the best that ever were 🙂
OK–no more gifts today–just a wish for a blessed, happy Christmas & New
Year.”
Friday as I sat stunned in my cubicle I idly typed her name into email. I know it’s silly but I just wanted to say goodbye. I sat and stared at her name. Remembering. Trying not to cry. Listening to her voice in my head. Then I typed one line…”I’m going to miss you girlfriend.” I paused, then hit the send button. I got an auto reply: “I am out of the office until 3/3/14.”
Somewhere a short little lady is visiting with friends and family that have gone before. Her socks are jingling, her smile is wide, her face glows. Those of us left here are hurting, but were we ever lucky to have had her while we did.
So…you go girl, enjoy your next adventure. I wish it could have been the retirement we talked about, dreamed of. I wish you had had more time here. And I’m hoping this is the biggest, best adventure of all.
But I’m sure going to miss you girlfriend. Yes I am.
Change Is Hard 