on the play ground is where I spend most of my days...

...well, not like a real play ground, but since I love what I do it is kinda like a play ground. This is my studio. And I love it. I need to be around things I love, things that inspire me, make me happy...so yes, that is a framed Andy Gibb album above the window, and that is a mini chandelier with a stuffed dog on it above my bench, and yes, there's Pasqual hanging out and keeping me company, and if you look real close you can see my stack of Magnum PI dvds.

Let's just say I am not a minimalist.

Dog pile

Have I mentioned how much I love my dogs? I've wanted photos of all of the dogs together for a long time. And while they aren't all here, it's still pretty freakin' fantastic! Seven out of 12 is not too bad. Can you tell that Pasqual is a total camera hog? Anytime you get out a camera he strikes a pose and hams it up for the shutterbug. And it turns out that our bed was the perfect stage.

About a year ago I posed for these photos for Crave, a book on women business owners. My good friend and photographer extraordinaire, Casey Woods shot the photos. She took several photos of me in my studio working but we both wanted to do something with the dogs, as many as we could coerce in front of the camera. I was pretty shocked at how well they behaved. The dogs are so much of who I am, it seemed only natural to include them. Needless to say I am in love with the result. Seriously, I have THE cutest dogs EVER!

nap time

Oh naps. They have to be one of THE most wonderful luxuries known to me. And can you imagine being able to peacefully sleep, uninterrupted beneath a desk? Oh, I am so jealous.

My Nana

I have been wanting and thinking and planning for this tattoo for years. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo for my great grandmother but I couldn't settle on what to do. I lost her when I was 14 years old but not a single day goes by that I don't think about her. I don't know that I can explain my connection with her...maybe she was my first best friend. I couldn't decide if I wanted a tattoo that was her or that was my feeling for her. She is the one who taught me to bake...she was the kind of cook who never measured a thing and everything was amazing. So I considered a pin-up style tattoo of a waitress with a pie and a name tag with her name. And then I thought about how much I love her and wanted a giant, red-as-red-could-be heart with a banner and her name or what I called her. Nana. I had settled on the heart and then decided to add these flowers from a painting that belonged to her. It had been in her house my whole life. When she died my Aunt Millie hung it in her house. When my Aunt Millie passed away I brought it home with me. So a couple of weeks ago I finally got my Nana tattoo. It doesn't make me miss her less. But it feels good having it there. In some ways I look at it and miss her more but in other ways it comforts me. Think what you want about tattoos, but they can be very cathartic, meaningful, and beautiful. Thank you Stacey for doing such an amazing job and bringing to life what has been in my head for so long.

I know what you're thinking...

...enough already. I said it awhile back, I should change this blog title to The Preacher Chronicles. But jewelry schmewelry, let's talk about dogs. And I know I just updated you, but I can't help it, this is note worthy.

So, we went in to see our beloved vet Dr. Daigle for Preacher's monthly check up. First of all we LOVE our vet. Love him. With 12 dogs you get to know your vet pretty well. Add to that the fact that we take our foster dogs to him and well, I see him more often than I see a lot of my family. He gets that I am a worrier and even though he teases me about it I know that he also goes that extra mile because of it. So anyway, we went in a couple of days ago and Preacher got his exam and his blood draw. We got another "disgustingly normal" diagnosis. Love that. In fact some of his blood work looked even better than the last blood draw. Crazy. Being that it's been a year I said to Dr. Daigle "Wow, can you believe it's been a year?" I told him that after Preacher's diagnosis I had read up on lymphoma, chemo, prognosis, etc. and that most things said that chemo could buy you a year to a year and a half. I told him that I read that and thought (hoped) maybe we'd get half that given Preacher's age and breed. Then Dr. Daigle said that at around the same time that Preacher was diagnosed he had diagnosed three other dogs with lymphoma and had sent them to the oncologist for chemo...and that Preacher is the only one still around. I felt a mixture of grateful and sad. Sad for the other families who didn't have the out come we've had. Of course I don't know what they did or didn't do...did they finish the chemo, entirely revamp their diets, feed fish oil, mild thistle, barley, pepcid, etc., were they as neurotic as me, or did we just get lucky? Dr. Daigle said "he's defied all odds". Defied all odds. That's some kinda wonderful.

Do yourself a favor...

I have one life suggestion for you: Volunteer. There is not too much I can think of that is better to do in your life. At first I thought it was kind of something you did because you had a passion for a certain cause. And I also thought it was an obligation - we're here on this earth, we need to leave it better than we found it. I still think both of those things are true but I have realized something else about volunteering. It can be completely selfish. In a good way. I didn't start out volunteering out of selfishness, but I have realized now that I have gotten far more out of it than I have given.

I have had the privilege of meeting some of the most amazing people and have had the honor to love 100's of dogs even if only for a short time before they got to go live with people who could love them for a life time.

Yesterday I posted an update on Preacher. A bit later a friend shared a portrait of Preacher that her husband had done. It was very emotional for me, not only because I love my dog but because I love their dog. I met Megan and Greg when they adopted a little hairless pit bull puppy from Tom and I. Let me back up a bit...Tom and I were down at the local shelter to pick out a new foster. We had written down a few numbers that we were interested in and were nearing the end of the runs. We were in an area where they keep dogs that have medical issues. Usually I'm ok. I've been doing this long enough that I have learned to put all of my focus on the dogs I can help and not all of the dogs I can't help. It's the only way to survive fostering. So as I walk down the "sick" run I look to my left and see this tiny little puppy with more sores than hair. He was crusty and wrinkled and stinky and he stood up, walked to the cage door and wagged his little hairless tail at me. I turned to Tom and said "don't look over there" and I started to cry. It was one of only two times I have ever cried at that shelter in 10 years. There was nothing in me that could leave that little dog there. He was a sick, hairless, pit bull puppy - what could be less adoptable??? When we went into the office and said that we wanted this puppy they looked at us with a combination of crazy and gratitude. They knew this puppy was just putting in his required 72 hours before being euthanized. But Tom and I scooped him up, a bit reluctantly because he was god-awful-gross, and took him home.

This little dog had a spirit that was unreal. He almost seemed like he didn't hurt, which was impossible given the severe case of mange that he had. It was so bad that the infection had gotten into his lymph nodes and we had to have them tested to make sure it wasn't cancer. It took about 24 hours for me to forget how stinky and crusty he was and how his skin would sometimes fall off in your hands. After 24 hours of his cheerful romps in the grass and games of stick chasing I was head-over-heals in love with him and would gladly kiss his leathery face!
Gradually his hair started filling in and thoughts of keeping him were creeping in...but just in the nick of time I got an e-mail from Megan and Greg. I loved them for him the moment I met them. And I was amazed at how quickly they saw past his not-so pretty exterior. The only question left was would their dogs like him as much as they did. I think it was a bit of a rocky start but now, gosh, five or six years later, I get to see pictures of he and Tula (their other dog) curled up together, snuggled on the couch, going for bike rides/runs, dressed up for the holidays - these pictures are my dream come true.
Now Cecil, well actually his name is Mole Pie now...funny thing about that, Tom and I named him Cecil but called him CeeCee Pie...We never told Megan that but he somehow still ended up being called Pie...anyway, he is happy. He smiles and is living the life.

The short version of that very long story is that I never would have met Megan, Greg, or Pie if I weren't volunteering. And Greg wouldn't have created that amazing portrait of Preacher that I will always treasure. And the thing is, there are so many more Charlotte and Rusty, Julie, Robyn, Davy, Zoe, and Mia, Nora and Sean, Kelly and Tom, Chris and Debbie, Brandi and Mark, Melody and Jake, Ed and Michelle, and so, so many more. Thank you all for what you have given us over the years.

Wow. a year can bring so much.

Believe it or not it has been one year since Preacher's diagnosis with lymphoma. A whole year. Words can not describe the scary place we were in a year ago. At that time I never would have believed he could go from so sick, not eating, depressed to happy, playing, and eating like a horse. That desperate day at the oncologists office all I wanted was more time but I didn't dare hope for a year. But here we are and I feel like the luckiest dog mom in the world. As I sit here typing Preacher is across the room curled up on the couch with a full belly of breakfast. If I could make eye contact with him I know he would wag his little nub. And that is joy.

We have no idea what we have left. But what I do know is that I am grateful. I am grateful to Dr. Daigle, Dr. Hintermeister, Georgia's Legacy, Casey, my Uncle Jim, my family and friends, and my partner-in-crime, my wonderful husband. You all made this bearable, gave me hope, and got us to a place where life felt normal again.

And for those of you who read this blog, who post kind, supportive comments - I would give anything if you all could meet this big goofy guy who you've come to know by reading my never ending posts about him. He would happily come right up to you, lean into you, look at you like "what's taking you so long to to pet me? I like it behind the ears.", and in thanks, cover you in white dog hair.

The important things

Just a couple of weekends ago my little brother graduated from high school. Here's the required family photo minus Tom because he is always the one behind the camera.
My grandparents and aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends came in for the festivities. It was a great weekend. lots of fun and great to spend time with everyone. They all live in Kansas so we just don't get to see them as much as we'd like.

My aunt and I are only four years apart and we have always been as thick as thieves. We find things funny that no one else does, we giggle to the point of annoying everyone one around us, we have our own little songs, almost to the point of our own language...and the 11 hour distance between us is dreadful. So I appreciate any event that brings us together.
This is Matthew and his precious friend Brittany. She's at my parents house almost as much as Matthew is so she's begun to feel like part of the family as well.
I truly can't believe he has graduated. He's 18. It was just yesterday that he was born. I was the first one to hold him. I sang James Taylor songs to him every day. I forced "good music" on him and tried to teach him to be open minded. He's going off to college in just a couple of months and I can't even think about how much I will miss him.

My family means everything to me. I truly feel like I am the luckiest person in the world when it comes to family. My parents divorced when I was very young and my whole family made sure that I never saw the ugliness of divorce. No one ever said bad things about the other, in fact they all remained close. In fact my biological dad's sister was there at Matthew's (Matthew and I have different biological dad's) graduation right along side all of my family - let me just say, it pains me to say "step" in relation to family. I hate that word. He's my dad. His family is my family. Anyway, I am lucky is my point.

The last couple of weeks have been trying. Both my grandmother and Tom's grandmother have had some health issues that have had us worried. Times like these, stuff like that just really makes you take stock and say your thanks. I have the best family. Hands down.

It goes by so fast

My precious little brother is graduating from high school tomorrow. It feels like yesterday that I was singing James Taylor to him to try to get him to go to sleep. Now he's 6'2" and headed off to college. I am insanely proud of the person that he has become. He is smart and funny. He genuinely cares about people and is a great friend, brother, and son.

I was 20 years old when he was born...my mom waited a looooong time for that second child. Just yesterday my mom was saying that she has had a child at home for 39 years. That's crazy! But it's been cool having a brother 20 years younger than me. I think he helps keep me young and he is truly one of my very best friends.

It's about time.

I have been working very, very hard to put together this new line of jewelry. I like to think of myself as a fairly organized person but I'm not terribly patient. Typically when I make something new I am so anxious to get it "out there" that I post it to my website and move on to the next thing. Because my aesthetic is well, my aesthetic most of my work is pretty cohesive I think. But this time I really tried to restrain myself. I worked on necklaces, earrings, and bracelets and yesterday Tom and I had our own little photo shoot. If I was smart I wouldn't post these photos until I had them on my website so that you could hop on over there and buy them up - but I am too anxious to show them off and see what you think. I have posted a couple of items to my etsy shop if you'd like to go check them out. But in the mean time let me know what you think. Happy Monday.

Update on the Big Man

Well, Mr. Stinker Pants here gave us a bit of a scare last week. Anytime anything goes wrong I immediately assume the worst. But I think that's normal when you have been dealing with the big C. Turns out it was a simple kidney infection and after a day of antibiotics he was back to normal. But I tell you, we were in freak out mode for a good four hours or so. The good news: great appetite, goofy, grumpy, normal. I love normal.

my new old bathroom

I've gotta tell you, when I see those design shows where they go into those 1950's bathrooms and rip out the wall to wall tile, the matching porcelain sink, tub, and toilet, the old porcelain soap dish and tooth brush holders I just cringe! I LUV those old bathrooms. And if they are pink that's even better.

So for a few years now Tom and I have been planning the remodels of our two 1978 (not a good year for bathrooms) bathrooms. We wanted the 50's look. But I never thought I would be able to find pink vintage fixtures!!! But just a couple of weeks ago a friend called to tell us about some great pieces at a local architectural salvage place. When I saw this pink sink for $30 I nearly fainted! I wanted to sit on it until we could get it in the car for fear someone else would discover this treasure. I guess I still have not figured out that I tend to like the things that most others have rejected. While I was lusting over the sink my mom comes out to tell me they had a matching toilet. Done and done.
Tom got the project under way much quicker than I thought we would and now the vanity area is complete. My sweet pink rejected sink could not look more perfect. And my amazing husband did an unbelievable job all by himself. I would post before pictures but I'm too embarrassed.
On a recent trip to New Mexico I picked up another reject. My cousin just bought a new house and it had this awesome mirror in the dining room that he thought was just dreadful and he was more than happy for me to take it off his hands. Granted it was gold leaf, pale pink, and green when he gave it to me...but I would have hung it just like that. But for the bathroom I thought a fresh coat of white paint would make it perfect. And this precious little 50's style light came from Lowes for a whopping 12 bucks!
After a trip to Ikea we had plenty of storage with even a little spot for my cutie-pie dog pin cushion from local artist Leslie Bonnell of GlitzKrieg


...and I have been waiting for months to hang these two paintings by my friend and fellow SWT grad Stephanie Nance.

Needless to say I am in love with my bathroom. I would marry my bathroom if I could. Sometimes new and shiny is good and sometimes old with a history is better.

Smile.

It's been a difficult week. But no matter what is going on my dogs can make me smile. And when I REALLY need to smile The Business Man is my go-to guy! He is the silliest, funniest, most outrageous little dog I have ever known. I dare you not to smile when you look at these pictures.

Godspeed Lee.

Being involved in dog rescue and being the "parent" to 12 dogs of my own I am constantly asked questions like "who do you recommend for pet sitting, for vet services, trainers?" We get countless calls on the Blue Dog phone line from people who say they need to give up their dog due to a variety of reasons and we always try to encourage them to get training and keep their dog. And without fail my suggestion is always the same "Go see Lee Mannix." Now what do I say?

When Tom and I found out that Lee had died we just stood completely silent in our kitchen. I know it is always a shock when someone young dies, but the thing about Lee was his bigger than life stature, presence, and personality. My friend Robyn said it best "how does someone so big, so alive just cease to be?"

Lee was widely regarded as THE best dog trainer in Austin and I think, probably, just about anywhere. He had a way with dogs that was almost scary. It seemed like an odd combination of common sense and science. Years ago when Tom and I had just four dogs I signed up for a private session with Lee. I showed up with all four dogs in tow not really knowing what to expect but whatever, it was dog training, right? You teach them to sit, stay, no barking, etc. Umm, no. So we go into this small room that was empty but for two chairs. Lee goes in and sits in one of the chairs saying nothing to me or the dogs. Now if you know me at all you know that I am not one to start asking what he was doing - I don't like confrontation or anything uncomfortable, but I was waaaay uncomfortable! Was I supposed to sit? ask questions? keep the dogs from marking the back of his chair? But I just quietly sat down and endured the nearly 15 minutes of silence. The only thing he did was throw his hat into the middle of the room. After the 15 minutes he says to me "okay, I've got them figured out." huh? "The little one is your pack leader (Clarence), the dingo mix is your protector (Seven), the chow is a nervous wreck (Ozo), and the Great Dane couldn't care less (Preacher)." And that was it. He had them pegged to a tee. That was the beginning of my understanding my dogs.

Over the past few days I have read hundreds of posts from people who say that their dog would not be alive if it were not for Lee. Tom and I both believe that there is little point in being here on this earth if you don't try to leave it better than you found it. As Tom said "whether it's for other people, dogs, oceans, or otherwise." Lee obviously did just that.

"You gotta be more fun than f%&king dirt!"

finger nail polish

It's been almost a year since I lost my Aunt Millie. Earlier this month my mom and I drove to New Mexico to help clean out her house. Well, we actually didn't help too much, it was more of a chance for us to bring home some things of hers to remember her by. I went a little nuts. I tended to want all of the things that no one else wanted and in the process managed to nearly fill the entire back of my mom's suburban. The closer we got to home the more worried I became that Tom was gonna come unglued when he saw all the "stuff" I was bringing into our house. But in the end he was a very good sport about it all. He knows that I am insanely sentimental and I get attached to things. I know it's silly. I know that the person isn't in the "things", but it's just hard to see the things she loved go into a garage sale or be given to someone who didn't know her or love her.
When we were there for her funeral we stayed at her house and I slept in her room. I found her nail polish and thought it would be nice to use it for the service. When I started going through it to decide which one I wanted to use I began to realize that they were all the same color. Almost exactly. All different brands, but still the same color. I imagined her going to the grocery store, walking down the make up isle and looking at the polish, picking up bottles until she found the perfect one, and never noticing that it was the same as all the others she had at home. I don't know why but this made me giggle. As sad as I was for some reason this tickled me so much and fascinated me at the same time. On this recent trip when we cleaned out the space where this nail polish was I grabbed every bottle. I just could not let them be thrown away. I just know she picked out each one, loving the color, thinking it was something a little different and fun. And I really wonder if she ever realized when she brought the new bottle home that it looked a little like the others. I wonder. I would love to ask her...and maybe tease her about it just a little.