Writing Prompt & Self-Portrait #13: This is Me

Of all the self-portraits I took for my self-portrait project, this adult photo of me is perhaps the most natural, the most like me on an average day – there are better photographs, sexier images, versions of me to which I aspire, but this is how most people are likely to find me – bright coat, silly hat, on the go with a smile.

The childhood me looks equally happy. She has the same wide brown eyes and a hint of the same smile. I am happy I’ve grown more hair. She appears as comfortable on the hood of this car, as the adult me is behind the wheel. I don’t recall this picture, but my parents are attached to it. They look at it nostalgic for the cute little car and the cute little baby.

Sometimes we look at photographs and don’t recognize ourselves at all. I see me clearly here. I am on my way to work, off to do an interview or write at Books-a-Million. I’ll return home when it’s dark and I am tired to be greeted by my pugs, sitting in a basket of hats, scarves and mittens by the door. Tomorrow I might do the same. Like everyone, I have regrets and longings, hopes and dreams; many of which are coming to light in the posts on this blog, but I look at these pictures of me – both child and adult – and can say, that although there is still so much I want, so much I am looking for – on most days, I’m honestly happy.

Writing Prompt: A student in my memoir writing class once asked another to write a story that really showed who she was, that said "BAM, this is me." Try it, share a memory that shouts "BAM, this is me!

Book Review and Book Tour: Dog-Ma, The Zen of Slobber

Dog-Ma, The Zen of Slobber. As a dog lover you probably identify with that title and if you don’t, you’re at least likely to identify with one of the canine cast of characters in this super-packed book. Author Barbara Boswell Brunner’s book definitely targets dog owners by weaving amusing anecdotes of the life she and her husband, Ray, shared with numerous canine companions over the course of their courtship and marriage. Nine dogs of their own and many canine friends grace the pages of this book, each portrayed as a person in his or her own right. The book is full of laughter and tears as Boswell Brunner shares her dogs’ antics and sadly the heartaches of some. To me it is in these tender moments that Boswell Brunner’s writing is not only at its most poignant, but also at its best. Yes, she knows how to weave an amusing tale – who will forget her dobie's tampon ear supports, Cooper’s toy Horton emitting its endless chatter, her Turbo strolling an upscale neighborhood with a goat? These are wonderful, funny stories, but when Boswell Brunner turns to the sensitive her writing truly moves me.  I love her homage to Madison – “She saw the silver lining in every bad situation. Madison was an optimist. Madison was loved.” Beautiful.

No doubt readers will have their favorite characters – mine was Cooper and I would recommend this book just to hear about his antics with his stuffed toy, Horton, which called to mind my own dog, Vader. Other readers will certainly find their pets amidst these pages. My primary disappointment with the book is that Boswell Brunner didn’t take us deeper into her own life. Yes, we are privy to the couple's moves and career evolution and she offers us glimpses into deeper fare such as her cancer and a mother-in-law with Alzheimer’s, but she doesn’t dwell there long and I think the story would have been richer if she had. I have a feeling Boswell Brunner is a good enough writer to go there if she wants to, to fill out the details of her own life with as much heart, humor and soul as she brought to the dogs. I think in a second book, she should try doing just that. Still, there is much here and enough plain old good dog stories to make any dog lover smile.

For dog lovers everywhere.......Barbara's vivid and dramatic stories, told with a wicked sense of humor, will make you laugh out loud. She definitely gets what living with rescued dogs (nine of them!) is all about. This book will inspire you with the couple's unstinting love, devotion, and respect for dogs as family members. You'll be glad to include it in your treasured collection of great dog books.

When Barbara meets her future husband, Ray, it is love-and dog-at first sight. Over the course of thirty-two years, seventeen relocations and nine dogs, their mutual love of dogs guides them on their unconventional path. The love that Barbara and Ray get in return is literally lifesaving, with one dog attacking a lethal intruder and another discovering Barbara’s cancer. Her own survival story underscores the story of how her dogs become survivors themselves. 

Each new dog adds its own dynamic to the family, sometimes upending it. From Turbo (whose Spock-like ears may have provided super powers), Barbara learns about the will to live; Lexington demonstrates incredible patience and an inexplicable love of golf; Madison teaches that laughter is truly the best medicine and that the whole “nine lives thing” is not reserved just for cats; Morgan should be sainted for tolerating Izzy, who is as cute as she is bad. Barbara is certain that somewhere in doggie heaven there is a poster that says “If you are sick, injured or in need of really expensive medical care, FIND THESE HUMANS!”

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About Barbara Boswell Brunner Barbara grew up in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania with her parents, sister and always a dog, or two or three. She graduated Summa Cum Laude from a small women's college in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. Meeting her husband in Washington, DC, they continued together on a journey as self-proclaimed dog addicts. In the ensuing years, she founded three successful businesses in the Pacific Northwest and is a prolific fundraiser for breast cancer research. She and her husband are retired and now reside in Southwest Florida with two dogs and copious amounts of dog fur. She is currently working on indulging her well known flip flop addiction.  

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printed version           ebook version 

I received this book to review through Beck Valley Books Book Tours, all the opinions above are 100% my own.

Feeding the Pets

 

Today I took care of my best friend, Sheila's, dog and two cats, feeding them and letting Muck, the hound, out while she and her family were away at her son's wresting tournament. The animals were perplexed to have me in the house. Muck likes me; to be fair she probably likes everyone, but I think she knows me a bit and was happy, I think, just to have someone share the house with her for a couple of hours. Of course, once I let her out she stood on a snow bank in front of the house for awhile, pointing and sniffing the air for her family. Roxy, the more active of the cats, kept playing peek-a-boo around corners in an effort to simultaneously remain unseen while keeping me in her view. Pug, the old, fat, gray Persian, hissed and hid. All three at least seem pleased by the food.

When I returned home this evening my own two enthusiastically greeted me, wagging their tail and hoping for snacks. Today I felt a bit like a food dispenser, my worth measured by a jury of hungry animals. Their verdict however seemed positive -- I did well and might just be okay to have around.

Now

 

Now I stumbled upon you

Sitting there stone faced, waiting

Not for me,

Not really

But now

We smile

Well, I do

And, you stare

Two very different creatures

Connecting

Now

Writing Prompt: Faith

Driving the streets of Barre last Sunday with my mother, en route to visit my grandmother and uncle, I spied a scene outside the passenger window that struck my funny bone. To my right sat a rectangular building with a brick façade adorned with a huge cross and a sign reading “Faith Community Church.”

The humorous part was the “H” in the word “Faith,” that dangled precariously, but in good faith that it would not fall.  Three cars were parked in front of the building and since it was late in the afternoon this was well after church ended. It seemed a busy place, not rundown or dilapidated, but their hung the “H” and it seemed both ironic and funny to me.

I turned around and pulled into the driveway to snap a picture. The more I looked at the building, the less funny and the more appropriate that hanging “H” seemed. So often people equate faith with hope – the hope that something will happen. Faith is stronger than hope. Hope is optimistic, faith is expectant – both can be tarnished by life. It’s easy to lose faith, we are warned to keep the faith, and yet, true faith, however tried, hold’s on.

Earlier that day I had spoken to a friend of mine. During the course of the conversation she said she was going through a period where she felt like a child continually asking why. She was not depressed, she assured me, just questioning – why?

“Why’s the point,” I told her. And, I think it is. True faith allows for why. The questions engage us, drag us forward, keep us dancing with life. When we stop asking why not only is our faith dead, we might as well be.

I like the dangling “H,” a faith that allows for imperfection while still ringing true. I like that such a faith stops me in my tracks, leads me to turn around, and in the end, makes me smile.

Writing Prompt: What do you have faith in? When has that faith been tested?

Play Bow

The sign outside the pet store read “Puppies, “ so of course I had to stop. This shop is a small rural pet store that only occasionally has puppies, relying on reputable, local breeders. It is rare to see such a sign and even more rare to actually see the puppies outside in an x-pen while it is winter. But the sun was shining, the snow melting and there sat two little beagle puppies leaping at each other and barking at passersby.

I knew I shouldn’t take the time to stop. I had been working all day at Books-A-Million’s café, writing my article on fallout from the national housing bubble burst and had only stepped out long enough to grab a bite to eat, but they don’t call puppies irresistible for nothing. So I jumped out of the car and grabbed my camera to snap a picture of the energetic balls of cuteness, when I looked up and saw another matched set. Parked alongside the road, overlooking the puppies was a pickup truck and staring out from the open window were two handsome bulldogs observing the puppies’ antics.

I pointed my lens toward the truck, peered through the glass at the driver inside and raised my camera ever so slightly to ask permission to take a picture. He nodded and smiled and I snapped away. The two remained stoic, never changing their expression while the puppies scampered beneath them.

I smiled and watched, stooping to pet the puppies. The smile was on my face, but I felt it spread throughout my body. Although snow still covered the ground, you could feel the hand of spring upon us. It was evident in the sun grazing the bulldog’s coats and skimming the heads of the frolicking beagle pups and in my own weary body that suddenly felt rejuvenated. Sitting at a small café coffee table for two days writing about sub-prime lending and foreclosures had taxed my spirits, but standing outside in the marriage of sun and snow, surrounding my canine bliss, I felt suddenly lighter. I had to return to the café and my work, but I returned refreshed. Studies show that dogs can reduce stress and lower blood pressure, they can transform the mundane into the lighthearted – a few moments spent with them and I was ready to face my reams of notes and statistics.

People question the meaning of animals in our lives and why they have risen to hold such a prominent place in our hearts. I can only speak for myself, but I know what I love so much about my pugs and dogs in general. Like children they exist in the moment, dwelling outside the past and the future. They pull us into the present and hold us there. I worry and I toil far too often. They play bow and wag their tails. When we are with them they train us to do the same.

Freelance Work

 

I'm afraid I don't have much of a blog post tonight. My day job has gotten in the way. Last fall I started a three-part series on fallout following the national housing bubble burst for a local publication. The first part address lawyers, the second appraisers and part three, which I am working on now, mortgage lenders.

I wrote most of the day in the Books-a-Million cafe and still have to finish up tomorrow. I conducted a lot of interviews for this one and have tons of information to condense into a 1,500 word article. It's all part of a writer's life.

In the meantime, I hope you all had the chance to enjoy my interview with Barbara Techel. I hope to do more of these with other authors, artists and dog lovers in the future.

Interview with Barbara Techel

 

Dog owners who have owned a senior dog know the telltale signs of aging – suddenly the fella that used to bound two steps at a time up the stairs, starts taking them more slowly eventually sometimes even missing a step. Instead of getting up to greet you, he may sit in his bed and wag his tale. His energy wanes. I remember when I first noticed these signs in my “Little Man” Vader and I worried. Not only did he seem to be slowing down, but his back end also seemed wobbly. I had seen his brother and other relatives suffer a paralysis of their rear legs and I worried that the same would happen to him. I tried to ignore it at first, but eventually my fears became a reality.

Initially, I dealt by carrying  him up to his bed at night, but when he grew too heavy I had to make a new bed for him downstairs. I kept him walking as long as I could, but eventually the time came to buy him a doggie cart. I had learned about Eddie’s Wheels a few years earlier when Vader’s brother needed his own cart. I purchased Vader’s custom chair in November of 2011 and while he unfortunately was only able to use it for a short time, it did keep him on his feet and walking until March of the next year when his front legs started to go as well. Even then I would put him in it at least once a day at first and try to help him stand to keep some blood flow to his ever-weakening legs.

It is painful to watch anyone you love suffer and the same can be said of a beloved pet, there is also something sacred in helping someone who is experiencing such suffering. They seem to develop a special grace.

If anyone knows the joys and sorrows of caring for a disabled pet it is Barbara Techel, who recently wrote a book, Through Frankie’s Eyes, about her own dog, Frankie, a dachshund, who suffered from intervertebral disc disease (IVDD).  In fact, Barbara’s book is not only dedicated to providing some insight into what this experience is like, but also showing what these special-needs animals can teach us. By witnessing Frankie coping with her disability, Barbara learned many lessons that she could apply to her own life, leading her to find a more authentic existence.

Recently, I had the opportunity to review Barbara’s book, Through Frankie’s Eyes: One Woman’s Journey to her Authentic Self, and the Dog on Wheels who Led the Way. On the heels of that review, I also had the chance to interview Barbara for this blog. You will find the interview below.

As a memoir writing instructor and a former owner of a disabled dog, I was very interested in Barbara and Frankie’s story and wanted to explore her journey with her. Among the issues Barbara and I discussed is the growing interest today in both memoir and dog books, the inspiration to write a memoir and her definition of an authentic life. We also touched on some of the charity and educational work Barbara was able to do with Frankie and how this sweet dachshund touched a number of people’s lives. Please take the time to listen to the interview, I think you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.

Also, please check out Barbara’s book. It is not only a book for dog lovers, but for anyone looking for inspiration to follow their dreams. For more information on Barbara, Frankie and her new dachshund, Joie, please visit her blog at www.joyfulpaws.com. Also, feel free to comment and let me know what you thought of the interview, I hope it will be one of many to be featured on this blog in the future.

Important Links:

• Frankie the Walk' N Roll Dogs Legacy - chip in to help other special needs dogs with Frankie's Wheelchair Fund
• National Walk 'N Roll Dog Day- A Day Established in Frankie's Honor
• Joyful Paws - Barbara Techel's Blog
• Eddie's Wheels - the place to buy dog carts
• Through Frankie's Eyes - buy on Amazon

Art Project

A few weeks ago I received a text from my sister-in-law Becky asking for some ideas for decorations for my nephew Avery’s E.T.-themed birthday party. I informed her that we must have Reese’s Pieces and offered to create a cardboard centerpiece featuring E.T.

Yesterday was Avery’s party. I toted my cardboard E.T. centerpiece up to the house and Becky placed it on the middle of the table amidst all the presents. A lot of the adults commented on it and the kids seemed to think it was cool. I found Avery sitting in the middle of the table holding it at one point.

Soon, however, the birthday party was in full swing. Kids swarmed around the table to watch Avery open presents and to sample the chocolate cake with Neapolitan icecream. The mothers soon were busy scooping icecream and cleaning up chocolate icing. It was about that time we noticed that Avery and a couple of the other kids are missing.

“Where are they?” his mother asked.

“They’re outside shooting at E.T. with their pellet guns,” his older brother Raine announced.

My brother and sister-in-law seemed upset and worried that I would be.

“It’s okay,” I quickly assured them. “At least, he liked it.”

And, I meant it. Kids should be kids and although I put a bit of work into my cardboard E.T. it was for Avery and his pleasure. Moments later he burst into the room proudly showing the pellet hole above E.T.’s head, a big smile on his face. Art should be enjoyed and Avery did just that. He just turned my static cardboard figure into a performance piece. It became a joint venture.

Listening with the Right Ears

As the photo reception was winding down today I had the opportunity to chat with another of the photo club members. She congratulated me on my third place win and then began to tell me how there had been a lot of discussion among the judges regarding my entry, Shadow Girl, in the pictorial/abstract category.

“I was busy hanging things, so I got to overhear a lot of the discussion,” she explained. “They liked it because it told a story, which is what they said a photo should do. So, even if they didn’t like a few technical things, they really liked the photo. There was a lot of back and forth on it,” she said.

A part of me was pleased by this fact. I was already happy with the honorable mention and it was nice to hear that the photo had generated so much conversation, but another part of me, a part with which I am all too familiar, heard only one thing she was saying – “so even if they didn’t like a few technical things…”

What technical things? I thought. What did I do wrong?

Of course, I know that this was only a choice of words on the photo club member’s part. She was trying to explain why I received honorable mention as opposed to one of the higher awards and of course, there were probably a few technical considerations in drawing this judgment, but this knowledge did not stop me from picking at her words like a scab. Rather than absorbing the compliment she was trying to pay me, a part of me could only concentrate on what was wrong. What didn’t they like? I thought. What did I do wrong?

Such thoughts quickly spiral out of control like a negativity avalanche – what did I do wrong becoming what do I do wrong and then will I ever get it right and finally can I ever get it right?

I don’t like this part of me. It’s as if I’ve been trained to listen with wrong ears – all the good words drowned out by one seemingly innocuous statement that turns instead to poison infiltrating through my pours and sticking to the inside of my heart and mind.

I am aware of this part, familiar with the fact that most fall prey to it at some time or other, certain that this tendency to dwell on the negative formed early in my childhood. And, since I am aware, I am working on changing. I can hear the compliment paid and delight in that knowledge that my work is good enough for judges to deliberate over. I am not a child any longer and just as my body has grown so has my ability to listen. I can hear both voices and choose to listen with the right ears.