enjoying today.

What is that saying? Life is what is happening when you're not sleeping? That's not it, but it's something like that, right? I'm trying to keep that in mind - that idea of enjoying everything as it's happening. I do worry about the future. What if this or what if that. But I also may spend too much time looking to the past - wanting to make today look just like some perfect day from years ago. It's hard to just rest in the moment, to enjoy the way your life looks at this very spot in time. I think it's an art, accomplishing that. I'm workin' on it, but it's a process for sure. Anyone got any secrets?

its the little things

We were hanging out last night, watching a movie and I didn't even notice Tom sitting on the couch drawing this sweet little picture of Preacher. I adore it. I love my husband and my dog to bits.

My life in a photo

This photo so sums up my life - jewelry and dogs, not always in that order. There are so many days where it feels like that is ALL I do. I am surrounded by dogs and jewelry all day every day. It's not a bad thing...it's just that I sometimes want to pop my head out of my box to see what else is going on out there.

The only way to turn 40.

I have been dreading this birthday with a passion I cannot put into words. I honestly don't care two hoots about age usually but I think there's a whole biological clock thing...well, whatever. Suffice it to say I was not excited. So my sweet and wonderful mom decided a big blow out would be a great distraction - and even better, include all of my friends also turning the big 4.0. this year. So, here's the five us looking a mighty mature forty.

It was THE best birthday ever. EVER. I figure if I can ring in forty in a pink tutu then I don't need to worry about the whole age thing all that much.

Happy 13th Big Man!

Can you believe it?!?!? When I think about it I still find myself stopping, biting my lip, and looking up into my eyebrows to do the math. Yep, it's for sure 13! I know I sound like a broken record because every post about Preacher is "we are so lucky, it's amazing, he had cancer" an so on. But here's one thing I never said out loud - I truly thought that his 2009 birthday would be his last. But right this minute he is sprawled out on the couch. He must be dreaming about chasing something, 'cause his legs are kicking.

This past June was another important anniversary for us - it marked 12 years since we adopted Preacher from Great Dane Rescue of North Texas. I can't remember if I've shared this story or not... We found this Dane rescue group online. Tom was hesitant about getting a second dog (that makes me laugh out loud now!) but I talked him into it and, in fact, we drove up to Dallas on Tom's birthday. When we perused their website I was looking for the most pitiful dog they had - I guess I had a bit of the Florence Nightingale syndrome. There was a little Dane mix puppy that was deaf and blind in one eye and I wanted her BAD! But apparently her foster family decided to keep her so I had to settle for the plain ole deaf one - his name was Duffy. We drove up to Dallas to meet him with Seven in tow. We wanted them to meet to make sure there was no obvious initial hatred. I have to say, she was pretty disgusted bordering slightly on hate. But after a five minute walk in front of PetCo we looked at each other and said "I guess it's ok." I'd love to say that it was love at first sight and we were over the moon for him and Seven had hearts floating above her head, but it just wasn't that storybook. We signed the paperwork and hopped into our little Honda Civic for the three hour drive home. The dogs were in the back seat together - in hindsight, and having done rescue for 11+ years now, this was not the smartest way to handle things. But off we went. For the first hour and a half Seven spent her time trying to climb into the front seat. If she could have flipped us off she would have. And then, half way home, something changed. I don't know if she gave up or if he used some sort of telepathy on her, but they started playing. A 36 pound Dingo mix and a 110 pound Great Dane in the back seat of a Honda Civic. The car literally rocked from Waco to home! And that's when we knew we'd absolutely made the right decision.

So Preacher, the dog formerly known as Duffy, is gonna be celebrating 13 with a big ole hamburger tonight! Maybe I can talk him into sharing with Seven for old times sake.

Preacher Man Update, sort of.

I don't really have much of an update. It's just that I took this soooo cute picture of him this morning and I was dying to share it!! Things are pretty much status quo. I will say this, when anything goes wrong with your pets, family, friends, whoever, I think the first reaction is to baby them or coddle them. And along the way as different things have come up with Preacher we have definitely done that. As an example - there for awhile he had lost confidence because he had fallen a few times. So every single time he wanted to get up we were right there to "spot" him and sometimes to literally pick him up and move him off the couch. I think we thought he had lost more strength than he actually had. In fact, he was just a bit insecure and we were feeding that insecurity. Over the past couple of weeks we've made him do it on his own and he is doing sooooooo much better. He is not nearly as weak as he would have had us believe. He actually seems to be getting a little stronger and I think it has a lot to do with him having to actually use his muscles instead of us doing it for him. Anywho, that's the latest! Happy Thursday everyone!

how does that serenity prayer go again?

I'm not one of those people who thrives under pressure. Let's just get that out there. Maybe that is not something that I should share, I should let everyone think that I am, at all times, calm, cool, and collected. But since I am fairly certain that the cat's out of the bag, I don't think putting it in writing is gonna shock anyone. And to say that I don't "thrive" is a little misleading too - the fact is, I can truly shut down under pressure. When things pile up I can go into full on panic mode. So a few weeks ago when I was whining about work being slow...well, be careful what you ask for because I am SLAMMED now! Which is good for the business side of my life. But then life comes along and makes work seem so trivial. It's all such a big, giant balancing act.
But in times like these, in the evening, no matter how late, if I can find some time to sit in my chair with a dog or two in my lap (or a foster puppy around my neck like a stole) I can recharge a bit. I honestly don't know how people live with out animals. I don't. When I am sad or anxious or mad or whatever I can look at one of my dogs and realize that for them - I am IT! I am the end-all-be-all (well, me and Tom). And over these last few days it feels pretty good to be such a rock star even if it's just to a dog.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Boy, did I need this weekend. I cannot remember the last time we had a weekend with absolutely nothing going on. Seriously, I bet it has been years. I'm not exaggerating. There is always something. Sure, lots of times it's fun stuff, dinner with friends or family, dog adoptions, just stuff. But this weekend we didn't have a single plan. It was Heaven! We lazed around Friday night and I sat and knit while we watched a movie before starting a Weeds marathon. We don't have fancy cable so we don't get to watch the show as it happens, but once it hits Netflix it's on! The show is not for everyone for sure! But it's funny and has these characters that you root for but you can't figure out why. If you watch House you know exactly what I mean...except that I can't root for him anymore, that thing has gone off the rails! Anyway, we watched like 8 episodes of Weeds Friday night, slept in a little on Saturday, did some work during the day, then started up the marathon again. It was awesome until we hit that last episode! Argggg! Still, it was relaxing even though I am dying to know what idiotic thing Nancy does next!

ps if you also need a Barney Fife mug/knitting needle holder - and we all do! - you can get your own right here.

Bleck.

Not sure what prompted me to stick Horatio in the sink last night. I guess I could say it was to give him a bath, but it wasn't. I was looking at the pictures this morning and realized they look like I feel. A little pitiful.

I got word this past Sunday that one of my cousins passed away. She was only 27 years old. We weren't close, but that didn't change how incredibly sad I felt for her daughter, her parents, her brother... It's just such a shock when someone so young passes away. It's just so hard to make sense of it. I can't wrap my head around it.

Yesterday morning I got the news that one of my friends dogs died suddenly during the night. The dog, Wittle, was the sister of three of my dogs. Tom and I raised them all from three days old after their mom had died having them. My friend Lisa came over one day to see them and without missing a beat said "That one is mine." She was the runt of the litter and weighed 2 ounces when I got them. When I went to pick them up from the desperate woman who called begging for help, I looked into the box and literally thought she was trying to pass off a litter of gerbils as dogs. They were that tiny. That was almost eight years ago. And today my heart is aching for that little baby who we bottle fed and loved until we could pass her on to her new family. And as much as I hurt I know these families, my cousin's family and Lisa's family, are desperately figuring out how to move forward.

Some people might think I'm nuts to write about the death of a person and the death of a dog in the same breath. But love is love. I am not claiming that one is more valuable than the other, only that the pain is real. And I wish them both relief and peace from the pain.

July 8 - Double Up on Metalsgirl Gift Cards

July 7 - 30% off all One of a Kind items

Itty bitty little thang

Look how sweet he is...wait, he's giving me the stink eye for sure!!! Every night our sweet little foster pup goes and curls up in Seven's dog bed and I think he's pretty sure each night that this will be the night that he'll get to stay all night. But then one of us big, bad guys comes along to scoop him up and put him into his crate (with a yummy kong I might add - we aren't all bad!).

Yesterday I took the baby to the vet for a recheck on his mange. Dr. Daigle said, and I quote, "The mites are standing on the mites." So apparently we aren't making much progress in the mange department. bummer. The good news is that he is just as happy as he could possibly be and we are making progress in the house training department. Thank God. Finally.

But seriously, isn't he too stinkin' cute?!?!? Mange shmange! I wanna kiss him all over!

July 6 - Buy A Set of 5 Bangles, Get a Set Free!

1/2 off earrings, July 5

Week of Sales starts today