why MyDogParty and why I’m grateful

I’ve already mentioned in my profile why I initially started this blog. My sister, who writes all the time, and very well, has encouraged me to do the same. Not for possible profit (or rejection, whatever the case may be) mind you, but for fun and just for release of creativity, I suppose. She didn’t mean a blog specifically, but this was the only tool I could think of that I would actually use to write. I’m not one to sit and write pages upon blank pages in a diary or journal. Nor do I like just typing in a word doc. And by blogging, I can insert photos into my daily musings (which is more of what I love to do – take pictures and share them! Pictures tell a story as well if not better than words and when combined with words, speak volumes). I’m also digging the little Gadget features on here, which, as you can see, I’ve almost gone overboard on, so now I’m cooling it. But mainly, this blog is a way for my sister and parents (should they choose) to have easy access to my thoughts and descriptions of what’s going on in my life, and it allows me a chance to write it all down. They may or may not read every entry. No one may even read this at all. But Julia was right – it does release stress!

As to why I called this blog “MyDogParty,” here goes: when Julia (JT – which stands for Julia Teresa) and I were little girls, we visited our Grandmother in Missouri several times a year. My grandmother kept children’s books for all of her Grandchildren (as well as toys) in one area in her large den. In that den were two plush-cushioned rocking chairs, identical and positioned side by side, and I can recall with clarity the many times I’d sit rocking in one of those chairs while JT did so in the other chair. We’d rock for as long as we could, snacking on Grandma’s homemade fudge and reading the same books over and over. All of Dr. Suess' books were represented as well as many others. If you did a Google search for popular children’s books in the 60s and 70s, then I’d bet every one of them would have been in my Grandmother’s den.

I’m three years younger than JT, so she inevitably outgrew those books before I did, but there was one book she never forgot – Go Dog Go. In particular, she focused on the finale, the dog party. Dogs of all colors and sizes meet on the top of a very large tree to party beneath the moon. The book’s illustrator did a fine job of drawing this scene, and I never tired of looking at the cute, colorful dog cartoons. [Note here: I love dogs but do not own one at present. Someday I hope to adopt one or two.] But it was JT who brought that page to life for me. She’d expound on what that dog party was and not just while we were visiting Grandma. No, she’d tell me the story of the dog party any time I asked, which was usually when we were out catching fireflies in the yard at night [this was in the 1970s when children were rarely abducted as they are today, so this wasn’t unusual]. I can’t recall her words exactly, but I can most definitely recall her fluid olive-green eyes lit with wonder beneath the street light at the corner of our lot and the way she’d brush her soft bangs (that Aunt Nita insisted on cutting into her auburn hair) back off her long eyelashes, where strands often caught, in a feverish manner and whispering with soft breath about all the magic contained at this very special party. She spoke of adventure in such a unique way - always liberating but not without a little danger. For one thing, we’d have to fly to get there as the tree had no branches since they pointed straight up to create a solid leaf floor on which the dogs all sat. We’d also have to sneak away as surely our parents would disapprove of us being out at such a late hour. And then there were “those” who might try to stop us - witches, goblins, little fairies with teeth who’d nip at our heels along the way. I’d ask her to tell me about the Dog Party over and over again and wanted so badly to find that tree and join. I could imagine nothing better than flying above the tree tops, out of harm’s way, to join in the dog party at the top with JT and the many dogs we’d be friends with the moment we arrived. I’ve never forgotten this memory and when feeling lost or depressed, I sometimes pull it to the forefront of all my jangled, grown up thoughts. It soothes me, and as silly as it sounds, the mere possibility of a tree somewhere beneath the moon full of dogs partying late at night delights the hell out of me in a way only a child could appreciate. Well…a child and JT that is.

Speaking of, this is my favorite photo from around that time, maybe a little earlier. Julia was such a delicate, sensitive child and I was a living, energy ball of terror. For every ounce of imagination she had, I had the will and physical desire to do what she described. I was a tomboy who climbed trees (she did too, but much more carefully than I did), and when Dad bought us our little 3-speed bikes, I rode the hell out of mine, dragging JT along after begging her to join. She wanted to imagine and share but not necessarily do, and sometimes my insistence that she bring her magical inner world to life caused sisterly strife. Even my aunts still remind me of my horrible childhood temper tantrums to this day when they wish to make a point about my being a pain in the ass (let me just state that I’ve improved immensely. I no longer hold my breath until I pass out to get my way). This picture captures in a nuanced way our two unique personalities – even now as adults. Anyway, I have it framed and in my bedroom so that I see it every night before I fall asleep and my calling this blog “MyDogParty” is tribute to JT and her wonderful imagination.

Now, why I’m grateful: Today, when I arrived at work, two coworkers were discussing the horrible tragedy that occurred on Friday in Chatsworth, CA when two trains collided head on and 25 people lost their lives. So many more were seriously injured, some critically. I overheard a mention of LAtimes.com and I logged on to read some of the stories written about the deceased and what their loved ones are going through at present. I’ve lost loved ones, one in particular with whom I was very close, and I can empathize with the grief they must be feeling. My heart goes out to those families and to those clinging to life. It reminded me of how lucky I am – really reminded me. Recently, someone insinuated that I was feeling sorry for myself when I mentioned my weight gain of late. I was infuriated and deeply insulted as I am never one to feel sorry for myself. If I wallow in anything, it’s self destruction, but never pity. I come from a proud family who has worked very hard for everything they have. So have I. So, the offending party would have had a better reaction from me had she said instead that I am ungrateful. That I have been so many times I’m embarrassed to admit. Therefore, I want to take a moment to be grateful - for my loved ones, my friends who ride with me and those who don’t, my health, my home, my job, my ability to walk, run, ride a bike, enjoy life without a serious illness, my ability to think for myself, my memories and hopefully future ones, and most importantly, my ability to recognize that everything I’ve listed can be taken from me in an instant. I took this photo shortly after I read the LAtimes.com articles today. I bought this at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and love it – when I drink from it, it reminds me to do exactly as the cup says…