Dear Diary

When I was in 8th grade, one of my favorite things to do was write in my diary in the quiet of my room, writing down many made-up ideas of what I thought was happening in my world. I remember vividly how I'd written about Rex, a tweenager in the Youth Group at church. He and I would 'eye' each other. And while Rex was probably just glancing my way at the door behind me or something like that, I was thinking in my head that it must be that he likes me. I mean, he's looking at me. So in my diary, I would write about this like-affair I was having with Rex, although probably just a one-sided like-affair that I now realize. But I remember writing about Rex on a regular basis because I would see him several times a week in the youth group on the 4the floor of the church. 

Then, my sister got a hold of my diary and in a random act of sisterly meanness, she recited a line from my diary that I had written about Rex, while we were all in the family room which was the former 1 car garage area that had been enclosed to make us this 'big' family room. It felt like a big area at the time, whether it was or not. I remember standing on the stairs that went down into the garage/family room, onto the indoor/outdoor carpet into the room with everyone present including my mom, dad and other sister. I froze in my steps, realizing that she had gotten a hold of my diary and not only read it, but would recite my words back to me at the most inopportune times which happens to be all the time when you're in 8th grade. 

So the next time I was at a store, I would spend my saved money on a locked diary. You know that hardback diary with the teeny tiny key of which to lock/unlock it. Somehow it kept my sisters out of my diary from then on. But it was too late. The damage was done. I felt exposed. Granted, Rex never knew anything about this, and to this day, has no idea I had a crush on him. We were just 2 young tweens passing each other in the hallways at church with occasional random conversation, if even that.

Somehow, the memories of 7th and 8th grade creep up on me even now. At work, whenever I'm taking a 7th or 8th grader (somewhere in that age range) back to the operating room, I make conversation with them and it's usually about school. None of them seem to like school. They feel odd and awkward, and it's a tough age to be in an environment where there's hundreds of other odd and awkward people around you of the same age. Why is it that we can't do something about this? I feel their pain and tell them how awesome they are. I can try to encourage them, and let them know they are special - and that this can all feel hard but it won't last forever. Or will it. We often look each other in the eye just connecting on the hardness of middle school. I still feel it. When I see their middle school pain, I still feel my own along with them. I often want to ask them if they, too, write in a diary, but silly me, it's called a journal now. They journal. And here I am, still writing in my diary. For me though, it's now called a blog. Some things never change.

A New Little Spoon In Town    

Sugar has been my little spoon since Dec of 2018. I brought home this most scared and broken little girl who was an adult of just over a year old. M-156 was ever her only name, and apparently she'd lived her life in a crate for breeding and once they got tired of trying to breed her unsuccessfully, they sold her. To me of all people, unknowing of her sad life. 

David named her Sugar and I thought it was perfect. Sugar was scared of everything, and esp people. The rest is history, and her bonding to me was relentless and undying. She rarely allows anyone to touch her except for David, as she runs away from most everyone. The cutest dog on the property and she's untouchable. But she and I spoon as we lay sleeping, and it's her safe place. I've never been so bonded with an animal in my life. 

I love her little crooked smile 💖

So the hawk attack on sweet Sugar was bittersweet. Mostly all bitter, because she was in such pain and she was so sad and therefore I was sad. It was hard to watch her go through the recovery. Sweet, only because she got away from a predator who wanted her. She's a strong girl with a will to live and she has proven herself a champ in this recovery. I'm happy to report that Sugar is close to being completely healed, and her spirits are high once again. It's dangerous out here, and that was a reminder of how predators are constantly wanting what we have for lunch or dinner. We are so fortunate to have 4 livestock guard dogs to protect all the animals on the farm, as I am sure that if we did not have them, I'd have no livestock left.

The privilege of caring and having these amazing beings is 
beyond words. 

Penny and Dutch are rocking the guarding of the livestock, and we even let the chicks out of their nursery coop to now free range and after a few friendly reminders that they are not a treat, the guard dog pups (now 7 months old) left them alone. It's a miracle, I'm telling you. 

Wow, I fell down a rabbit hole on that one, but I'm back. Where was I, oh yeah, the new little spoon in town was where I was going with all this originally. I have absolutely no way to tell you how it all happened. It just happened. Okay, you know how I look at the Farm and Garden section of Craigslist every morning while drinking my coffee. I'm just looking.....most of the time. I like to see what people are selling and what their pictures look like (I gather tips from other people's farm pics while they are actually just showing what they are selling). I'm that person looking in the background of the photo. What does their animal shelter(s) look like? What's their fencing like? I'm such a farm nerd. 

And one day, I saw someone in Oklahoma post for a couple of French Bulldogs for sale. There were 2 male puppies left. Let me back up a minute to tell if you that for the past 6-8 months, after David saw a Frenchie at the vet, he's talked about it randomly, and I bet if he had a diary, he would have wrote about it.

And I thought about it and decided how much David would love a pup of his VERY own. David had no idea I decided this for him, but once I mentioned it, he was all in. And to Oklahoma we went. 

Those eyes, he was scared and away from his mama.

David fell in love with the smaller of the two males left, and we left with a brand spanking-new 12 week old puppy in his lap. David's smile was wide and his heart seems to have exploded. We decided that he would primarily bond with fill-in-the-blank name. What would be his name be? David decided that since he calls everyone buddy, that he would name him Buddy and that way it would just roll off his tongue. Buddy. There's no chance of calling him the wrong name, Buddy always flies out of David's mouth. It was the perfect name. 

Not to worry, he's made himself at home.

David's face says it all.

I'm here to tell you a few things about Buddy. He's very bright.

Buddy rings the bell to come in and out of the house. He now also knows how to sit and also, shake. He looks up at us and is asking for more information, please. I just ordered from the website fluentpet.com the buttons that dogs press with their paws that say words. Like for example: outside or potty or dad or today or now or whatever words you want your dog to learn. David is going to try and teach Buddy to talk, using the buttons. We all see those IG reels on Insta with dogs (and cats!) communicating to their humans through the buttons, and thought Buddy would be a good candidate for this. We'll start with 6 buttons. Potty will likely be the top priority on a button. He rings the bell to go outside, but really, he just loves being outside. I get that, Buddy. No better place than outside. 

If Maybe and Sugar do it, so does Buddy.
They are unsure of this new delivery.

As I was mulling this puppy thing over, I realized the last time we had an actual indoor puppy was when Maybe was a puppy. That was 11 years ago. Let's just say that we are adapting to what it's like to have a puppy in the house who loves to chew things, potty where ever, and needs lots of attention. Luckily, Buddy knows how to go in and out of the back doggie door, and also knows how to ring the bell to ask to go out the laundry room door to another doggie door we have there. He's still putting it all together with the potty outside concept. He loves to go outside, and will hopefully understand that he should only be potty-ing outside. It's a process. We are not there yet. Maybe and Sugar are here to help with that concept, so that's nice. Sugar likes Buddy best, as Maybe is an old lady who really only likes you if you have treats. And Buddy is all about the treats, so the competition is great for who gets what around here. Sugar does not do treats, as her teeth only allow for soft foods. So she could care less about treats. 

So far so okay. Buddy's main danger on the farm right now is a big swat of the front paw from Dutch or Penny who merely just want to play with a fellow puppy. Their paw swat is hard and heavy, and even though Buddy is sturdy and strong at 8 lbs, he's no match for a 86 lb puppy whose super excited to play. Yes, I said 86 lbs at 7 months old. We took Dutch and Penny to the vet recently for heartworm test and meds, and they were 86 lbs (Dutch) and 77 lbs (Penny). They are going to be ginormous dogs, as both their parents were around 120 lbs. 

Most amazing 7 month olds #huge

Penny is already taller than Whisper. We adore them all, and want to keep everyone as healthy as possible. We have to be diligent with the heartworm meds for all the dogs because Winston is heartworm positive. It only takes one mosquito bite from an infected dog to carry that to another dog in the form of a mosquito bite. Seems the vet thinks he's been positive for some time due to the nature of his symptoms, and maybe even why a family might have let him go into the world on his own. The vet does not recommend treating him, as his timeline is shorter than they feel is worth heartworm treatment. I've not come to terms with that just yet, but I do understand Winston is old and why a vet might think it's not recommended to treat him. He was given antibiotics to destroy the baby heartworms to keep it all at bay. He'll be on that for awhile. Sweet Winston. He has such a good heart (the vet even said it's nice and strong sounding) yet has such a hard time getting up and down off the ground. Once he gets up and moving, he does pretty good. There is no run left in his life, just a walk and I'm happy he's still walking. Senior dogs are great. They appreciate the basics in life. Just like Maybe and Winston do. Yes, they can both be semi-grumpy but senior dogs are granted that privilege around here. Food, sleep, food, a nap, treats and more rest. The smiles I get from them is simply amazing and they can never get enough pets and cuddles. They are simply happy to be alive. 

And while Buddy is on the other end of the life cycle, he's in his most formative months. We, being older pawrents, are able to focus a little more on what we might be able to teach him. And David may be having more time in the future to do just that.

Buddy with the bling

A different kind of excellence

I'm not here to give any certain spoiler alerts, but I can tell you one thing for sure: cancer has brought us closer to the retirement process sooner rather than later. We hear over and over how you should wait until the maximum age to retire so that you can get all the money from social security. And often told what a travesty it would be to retire early and miss getting all that money. I also realize that many of these people say this because they think they will live forever. I used to be one of those people. Ahhh, I remember those days. Most people have no idea that we may indeed have something that makes it clear to us that we won't live forever, and that likely our expiration date is sooner than we would have originally thought. But you know our story well. We are a couple with cancer who has their eyes wide open to understanding that we will likely need to be a caregiver to one another, just not sure at this point what those details look like. And many couples are caregivers to one another at different parts of their life for various reasons. It's just that our wedding vows include full-time caregiving til death due us part. We've made a pack. We will care for the other one. No one knows us better than we do, and we can only hope that we are given the opportunity for one of us to care for the other. 

This is nothing new in the world, that couples care for each other. It's just we happen to know we are going to need that from one another, so we are able to openly talk about it. Death is something we discuss in the most healthy way we are able. We take time to ponder death. And with that said, we talk about retiring before we step off the curb. Why wait when someone has told you the possibilities of what's to come? David's PET scans are showing good results at this time, and we are most grateful. But yet that does not give the future a shoe-in. And David wants some time to be a different kind of excellence. 

He wants to excel in fishing, doing nothing if he wants, golfing and not caring about his score, and doing whatever he wants to do day in and day out. It's a new kind of philosophy that takes him from innovator at work to instructor at home. Like teaching Brooks how to fish, or teaching the awesome kiddos that come over to the farm how to pick up a chicken (it's not as easy as it seems to pick up a little dinosaur). He wants to spend the back half of his life sharing in a different way. He's likely to become the most relevant he's ever been while sharing his wisdom and knowledge on everything from wood working to stain glass. If something needs to be done around the farm, he's got something in the garage to help make it happen. But before he finds what he needs in the garage, he's already imagined it in his head. His innovation will now be solely placed in areas of his life that he desires it to be placed. 

And while there's no doubt that aging brings about challenges and some things become harder, we will acknowledge this and showcase it. Some things take more time, others take more thought and creativity. He's embracing what comes with time and is not an anti-ager. We are instead, agers. Bring on the age. The skin that shows the age. The mind that shows the age. It's like wrapping your arms around a long lost relative and noticing the changes in them and how good that change looks on them. We notice the changes in the mirror and in all we do and understand that we will make modifications as needed.

David's retirement plan has one main goal: Happiness. He's still finalizing the details of the timing of retirement and knows that time is not promised in life. It's hard to give up the money you make, the self-worth that work brings, and the people you've know for years and years. It actually takes time to process this idea of going from working to not working. It's harder than we thought. But once you round that curve, you are never able to look back. I guess that's where the swerve comes in. We often try not to take the curve, and swerve instead. David is taking this new curve with the gas pedal down, rounding all the tiny corners of that curve, and feeling all the feels from it. 

Hip Hip Hooray!

David and I traveled recently to the San Benito area (down in the valley close to South Padre Island) to visit my mom and dad. When mom and dad were younger and I was a child, we did not speak of age. Now, they are open to age discussions and they can because they are rocking the 80's, and I don't mean like the Flock of Seagulls '80's. It was an absolute lovely visit and we just talked and talked and felt no need to do anything but talk and connect. It was my favorite kind of visit where the expectations to go do things are low, and we get to sit around and talk. Oh, and eat at mom and dad's favorite places. It was a very magical visit and I can't wait to do it again. 

They are showing us how it's done.

Prior to planning this particular trip, I had thought "if I was in my 80's, what would I want for a visit from relatives?" and my answer was: an easy visit with minimal work and planning. After I told David (and Lauren) I prefer a day trip to fly down in the morning and fly back that night, you'd thought I had told them I would be flying the plane myself. It just didn't sound like what a trip should sound like, esp visiting parents. 

I held strong and booked the flights and off we went. Lauren, Ryan and little Brooks came over to man the farm for the day and wrestle the new puppy, Buddy. Thank you guys so much!! All while David and I flew to Harlingen and were picked up by mom and dad who drove us to an awesome Mexican food restaurant. Yum! Then, back to their house to talk and odd how the time literally flew by, as there's so much to talk about and I just loved being with them and catching up. All while siping on iced tea and lounging on a comfy couch. Before I knew it, it was time for dinner and back to the airport. Mom and dad picked bbq for dinner and it too was yummy. I hated saying good bye, but will be back sooner next time. After all, Dad is having his hip replaced on June 30th and I look forward to checking on him after he settles in with it. Mom is a wonderful chauffeur, and our visit was full of wonderful memories that are still fresh in my mind. Just a lovely lovely relaxing time. Thanks, mom and dad for having us! And thanks to Lauren, Ryan and Brooks for helping keep things under control at the farm. Best day trip ever.

Dear Diary, 

As my parent brain transforms into a grandparent brain, I've noticed a few things:

He's not sure why they keep saying cheeeeese

It still amazes me that my own child has a child. For some reason my brain is on 'skip' and processing this fact may take a lifetime.

Ahhhh, these days are the best

My new grandparent brain does not miss the day-in and day-out of having children around full-time, but instead loves every minute with grandchildren and then returning them (safe and unharmed) to their parents.  

You're hired. When can you start?

My new grandparent brain sees everything grandchildren do as absolutely adorable. 

I just can't even. That face.

What I've learned with this new grandparent part of my brain is that this kind of love is exactly what grandchildren need and at the same time, exactly what grandparents need. A type of love unlike any other. The best kind of love. Grand love.

Til next time,

Cyndi