What Rescue Will Do

Boo Radley now

We have three schnoodles, all rescues, who came to us bruised and battered, scarred and scared. 

We understood.

Going from abandonment, abuse, neglect, and betrayal to a shelter or foster home, to a forever home must be filled with all sorts of emotions and confusion – and I am a firm believer that dogs have emotions.

That’s why we forgave Boo for biting a couple of times at the start. Here was a dog who was shivering with fear in the back of a van in a wire kennel. He was matted and thin, dirty and smelly. 

He almost wasn’t ours. We’d found dogs online twice that we’d come to adopt, and both times we’d completed paperwork only to find that when we arrived, our dog had “just been adopted” by someone else. Right out from under us.

Boo Radley a/k/a Einstein at the rescue - picture sent to us by the organization on his intake day

A dog they dubbed Einstein for his wild hair had just arrived in the parking lot on one such occasion, and was being held in a van until he could be processed. They could not put him out for adoption with the other dogs yet. I think the lady who’d promised us the cute female Maltipoo with some sweet little Hawaiian name truly felt bad that we’d driven an hour to adopt her only to find she had just left with another family, so she’d added, “But there is one other possibility. I can’t let him go today, but he’s just arrived. Want to take a look?” 

We did.

We followed her to the parking lot, where she’d opened the van doors to reveal the most frightened dog we’d ever seen, visibly shaking and unsure of what was happening to him. 

I stuck my head in and spoke softly to him, and he calmed down. I asked to hold him, and the woman reluctantly allowed it after explaining that the landlord of a nearby apartment complex had brought him by and begged her to take him. She told the woman that the dog’s owners had left two weeks earlier, that this dog had been abandoned in a duplex, and someone must have thought he would be found immediately. He wasn’t. They’d left food and water down, but it was all gone by the time the cleaning crew showed up to find a huge mess teeming with flies and one terrified dog.

Boo Radley the day we picked him up from the rescue

We adopted Einstein and named him Boo Radley. He had no reason to trust anyone anymore – if he ever had – and we had a lot of ground to gain with him. He snapped and bit at first, but with love and time, he has come to be a loving companion, despite his many lingering issues.

Boo Radley watching the driveway for his people to arrive home (he’s a full time inside dog who wants to wait outside for his family following his afternoon walk)

This is the dog who will cower to the laundry room and shake when anyone’s cell phone dings. Let it ring with music and he will howl at the moon.. He becomes agitated and obsessed with killing flies if he sees one buzzing around. If he smells the heat of a toaster, he will shake with fear and seek a lap. If the smoke alarm (or any timer or noise such as a clock) goes off, he goes into a tizzy. We think that somewhere along the way, he experienced a fire.

Boo Radley – ready to play keep away with his ball. Where other dogs fetch, Boo has trouble sharing his toys.


But this is the same dog who sits awake all night at our heads, guarding us as we sleep, then sleeps all day. This is the dog who sits at the head of the driveway and doesn’t want to come inside until both of us are home from work. He knows he has a family, and he knows his role is to protect and love us – as ours is to protect and love him. This is the same dog who knows he will never again be abandoned or abused or neglected. The same dog who now rests assured of his place in his forever family.

This is what rescue will do.

Boo Radley – sleeping like an owl in the early morning after guarding his people all night (don’t let him fool you: he’s a fierce working dog, not a mere lap dog).

My One Little Word of 2024

Last week, I presented a family member with a box of verbs to encourage reflection, guidance, journaling, and meditation on positive words and the actions they inspire. She used these words written on miniature Jenga blocks to select her One Little Word for 2024, choosing the word trust because she says, “It’s something I truly want to be able to do.”

When I think of selecting a word of the year, it’s challenging to choose only one. As a lover of words and all their nuances, it makes it even more challenging to parse out synonyms and all their shades of meaning. It’s like having that big box of Crayola crayons and being asked to choose one favorite color – – – only harder. 

I really have trouble with that. I love the bright yellow sunshine, the crystal blue water, the spring green grass, the scarlet red cardinals, and the orange embers burning in the fire pit, glimmering with the heat like embers do. I want all the colors, and I want all the words.

Most of all, I want the verbs. 

Not just any verbs. I want verbs that inspire positive action in my life and lead me along healthy paths.

After considering a few hundred words for 2024, I’m staying with my 2023 word for another year. 

Pray. 

I can’t think of a better word fit for me for the coming year. To pray without ceasing is to carry this word each day, each hour. On my way in to work each morning, I turn off the radio and follow the ACTS model of prayer, first offering Admiration, then Confession, then Thanksgiving, and finally Supplication. Mostly, I give thanks for the miracles of blessings received. But I also give thanks for the miracles of things that didn’t happen that I may never realize I was spared. 

My friend Glenda Funk is taking the word care as her word for 2024. An article in The Washington Post encouraged her to choose a nudge word – a word that nudges her to live the life she wants to live. She writes in her blog post, “Care is a word I expect to push me to live the life I want to live in the coming leap year.” Fellow Slice of Life writer Sally Donnelly has selected the word prioritize, because she wants to keep the mantra, “Should this be a priority?” in focus as she chooses her path and all of her options. 

When I read about all the words my friends choose, it gives me such joy when they share the reasons they’re choosing them. What is your One Little Word for 2024, and how did you choose your word?

Goal Update for December 2023

At the end of each month, (or beginning), I review my yearly goals and spend some time reflecting on how I’m doing in living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. I’m still in the process of revising some of my goals as I encounter successes…..and setbacks. For the month of December, here’s my goal reflection:

CategoryGoalsMy Progress
LiteratureRead for Sarah Donovan’s Book Group








Blog Daily


Write a proposal for
writing group’s book

Sarah’s book club did not meet in December, so I started Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer and am hanging on every word. I don’t want it to end. I’ve completed I Hope This Finds You Well by Kate Baer for January’s book discussion, and I think Kate a genius for finding apt responses in her hate mail and flipping the script. 

I continue to blog daily, and the daily writing and reflecting is a wonderful habit for me. I don’t feel complete without some form of daily writing, and the blog is a way of continuing the habit.

My writing group is writing a series of new books, and I will spend time sending our proposal out to some publishing companies. We are slow going at this, but we refuse to give up. I did not send out any proposals in December, but we met by Zoom and each decided to send to a couple more, so I need to get on that on the Tuesday and Wednesday before returning to work on Thursday.
Creativity


This goal did not happen in December. There was no creativity except in the making of a hat or two on a knitting loom. 






SpiritualityTune in to church



Pray!



Keep OLW priority
We still watch a variety of churches on Sunday – in Georgia, Kentucky, and North Carolina. We attended a Christmas Eve Service of Lights in Kentucky when visiting family there.

My car is still my prayer chamber for daily prayer, and there’s so much to give thanks for. I continue my conversations with the good Lord each morning and afternoon.

I’m still keeping my OLW my priority: pray!
ReflectionWrite family stories

Spend time tracking goals each month
I have shared family stories through my blog this month. This will not be as much of a focus in 2024, but will continue sporadically.

I’m tracking goals, revising, and considering some new categories as I look at my goal table.
Self-Improvement*Reach top of weight rangeThis is a true failure goal for me in the last 6 months of the year. The first six months was amazing. Then, we drove down Route 66 and had the coconut cream pie at the MidPoint Cafe in Adrian, Texas, and I haven’t stopped eating anything all year.
GratitudeDevote blog days to counting blessingsI begin the days this way and end them giving thanks as well. Special occasion birthdays are often reserved as gratitude days on the blog.
ExperienceEmbrace Slow Travel








Focus on the Outdoors



In December, I’ve traveled within the state to two different conferences – one in Harris County, and one in Paulding County, both focused on Literacy. I have also traveled to see family in Kentucky and South Georgia, and our South Carolina family came to us. I’m about ready to hit the pause button on travel for a while, other than an occasional weekend of camping. 






I’m still focusing on the outdoors with birdwatching on the farm so that I know which birds are prevalent during which months right here on the Funny Farm. I’m planning to shift partially to focusing on the indoors, paring down possessions so that we can, perhaps, by the end of the year, have a viable plan to downsize our home to a barndominium for our coming retirement years. 

In the coming week, I will examine ways to keep monthly goals and the best ways to share progress quarterly. I’m also searching for the One Little Word I’d like to take with me through 2024. I will share that word in the coming week as well. 

Christmas at Stillmeadow by Gladys Taber

I enjoy reading Gladys Taber’s accounts of Christmases past, and today I am sharing some of her excerpts. As I reflect on the stillness of the Christmas season, here are a few of my favorites by Taber: 

We always think of Christmas as a time of snow and icicles hanging from the old well and snow over the valley. But I had a friend who was newly married and went to live in the tropics. She felt sorry for herself as Christmas drew near. She wept. And then her husband brought in some tropical flowers, to decorate the house, he said. And it came to her suddenly that Christmas was not a place, nor was it weather, it was a state of mind. After all, she thought, Christ was not born in the North, he was born in a stable in Bethlehem. And so she got a small palm tree and put flowers on the flat leaves, and was gay and merry. It was, she said, one of the best Christmases ever, although they afterward moved back to New England where the snow fell and the pine trees were silvered.

It is certainly true that Christmas is only seasonal in the heart. The snow may be clean and deep outside, or you may be in a dingy city apartment, or you may be in a steaming tropical country. But it is still Christmas. Whether you serve the plump crispy turkey, or something exotic wrapped in pandanus leaves, the feeling of Christmas is there. It is in the mind and in the heart. The faith we have in the good rises like a tide and wherever we are, we feel it. Christmas graces any board and gives a new lift to our life, and as we hear on ce more the familiar carols, we thank God for the birth of His son. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie – Above thy deep and dreamless streets the silent stars go by.”

As always when the old house creaks into quietly, I snuff the Christmas candles and check to be sure nobody has left a turkey bone where the Irish could get it. The colored ribbons and tissues are swept up, the fire has died down, and I let the cockers and Irish out for a last run in the new-fallen snow. They take nips of it, roll in it.

>>>

And now, as always, I have a special reunion with my Honey, a golden cocker who died a time ago. I hear her paws softly padding beside me as I put the house to bed. I can see her golden feather of tail wagging happily. Some might say this is foolish for she was, after all, only a dog, and she is dead. But the fourteen years of love and loyalty she gave me are very much alive as I say, “Good night, Honey.”

The house talks, as old houses do. A beam settles. A chair rocks. A floor creaks with unseen footsteps. I like this, for it reminds me of all the lives that have been lived under this roof, and I feel their friendly presence as I poke the embers. Christmas is over. It is time to burn the wrappings, write the thank you notes, return the calls, set the house in ourder for the New Year. It is also time to consider where our lives are bound, what purpose steadies our course. How much have we helped our fellow men this year, and what good have we accomplished? Has the world been better because we were in it? If Christmas means anything, it means good will to all. I doubt manuy of us truly live up to that, but we can try again.

As I let the dogs back in, I smell the snow. The walk is silver, the picket fence wears pointed caps. Night herself is luminous with the falling snow. A flurry comes in with the dogs and melts on the wide floorboards. No two snowflakes, I am told, are exactly alike and this is a mystery. Now the intricate shapes are gone, and only a spot of water remains. It is not very practical to stand in the open door at midnight to let the snow blow in. But is has been my habit for years to close Christmas day just so, sending my blessing out to all the people in the world, those I know well and love greatly, and those I shall never see. And as I close the door, I repeat again my Christmas blessing. “God rest you merry, gentlemen.”

A Christmas Gift of Action Verbs

I shared in my post yesterday a way I’d discovered to incorporate positive action verbs into daily reflection and journaling. I’m giving a box filled with Jenga block words to a relative across the miles and making a twin set for myself. These will be the basis of texts and phone conversations to share what our words do for us, how they inspire us and keep us focused on all that is good. Today, I’m sharing the list I created. Each word should be read as an infinitive with intention, as a way of taking action and creating positive energy. 

Merry Christmas!

Aask
awaken
act
allow
appreciate
affirm
amaze
accomplish
align
attend
accept
anticipate
Bbelieve
balance
become
be
begin
belong
budget
better
braid
bloom
breathe
build
beautify
bake
belong
bless
befriend
brainstorm
Ccompose
create
care
choose
celebrate
center
challenge
clean
clear
cleanse
color
carry
cheer
cherish
comfort
commit
complete
connect
conquer
contemplate
cultivate
consider
contribute
Ddraw
dance
decorate
dedicate
deliver
declutter
deliberate
design
determine
devote
direct
dream
drive
discover
delight
donate
dwell
Eempower
embrace
encourage
ease
elevate
emerge
enlighten
educate
evolve
excite
exhale
expand
explore
enjoy
experience
empathize
engage
embark
Ffind
finish
flourish
focus
flow
forgive
free
feel
fulfill
forge
feed
fill
fellowship
Ggive
grow
glow
go
glorify
gather
guide
greet
Hheal
hope
harmonize
help
honor
hug
hold
Iinspire
ignite
imagine
improve
increase
innovate
influence
invest
illustrate
illuminate
invite
include
initiate
Jjourney
join
Kknow
knit
kindle
keep
Llisten
love
laud
laugh
lead
learn
lighten
live
leap
light
look
launch
laud
Mmeditate
make
maximize
minimize
manage
maintain
mend
mold
magnify
Nnurture
nourish
notice
Oopen
organize
overcome
observe
offer
Ppaint
prioritize
praise
pray
pause
persevere
persist
practice
prosper
progress
participate
plan
play
prepare
partake
plant
preserve
present
protect
prune
pace
provide
Qquestion
quench
Rredesign
reach
reap
read
receive
reclaim
reflect
relax
rest
release
rely
renew
reset
restore
respond
resolve
rise
respect
repair
replenish
Ssketch
sense
sow
seek
sing
stand
smile
shine
savor
see
share
sacrifice
serve
simplify
soar
solve
spark
sparkle
steady
strengthen
strive
support
surrender
soften
sustain
soothe
sweeten
steep
save
still
Ttouch
tend
thirst
trust
thrive
think
thank
taste
testify
teach
transform
transcend
try
treasure
tithe
thank
Uunleash
understand
unite
Vvolunteer
venture
value
voice
Wwalk
weave
witness
wonder
wish
win
work
welcome
worship
warm
write
XYZ
eXtend
eXpress
eXplain
Xenialize

yield

zestify
zoom

Word Box

I’m a sucker for wooden blocks that will fit words on them, so when I found miniature Jenga blocks in the Dollar Tree for $1.25 per set, I bought 3 boxes of them. Each game set has 72 blocks. I also purchased a sturdy Christmas giftbox I’d planned to use for recipe cards, but I got a better idea once I saw the blocks.

Three sets fit perfectly into the recipe box. 

What if I wrote positive action verbs on them and gave them as a gift to someone who needs positive words every day? Instead of having One Little Word, what if I came up with 72 x 3 = 216 words and wrote them on the box, encouraging this person to pull one daily and meditate on it or use it as a journaling challenge to not only meditate, but to write a quip about how the word played into the day?

Wait, what if I used both sides, like 216 x 2 = 432 and said, “take your choice, front or back, and start all over when you get to 217 so you can have one for every day of the year?” 

So that is what I worked on all day yesterday. 

My Christmas Day post will be my word list you might choose to print and write on your own Dollar Tree miniature Jenga blocks, and place in your own container for journaling throughout the year. Perhaps one of these words will be your One Little Word for 2024, or perhaps…..just perhaps……you might even use these words as the diopter lens on the choice word, to give it an added focus and perspective. 

Christmas Eve – – a time for reflecting, for renewing, for thinking back and looking ahead. A time for silent introspection, for all the wonder of lights and magic. A time for the sacredness of the Nativity, and the blessings of peace and everlasting life for all who believe. 

They Came Three to a Mule

I was in the local grocery store yesterday to buy four cans of pumpkin puree to make our holiday pumpkin bread. A purchase in this particular store is rare, since prices are tremendously inflated in our small rural town. We often go to the next city over to buy a full week’s worth of groceries, but if I only need an item or two, I’ll justify the cost of the items using the cost of gas and time. 

The gas is a sure’nuff savings, but the time is questionable when you don’t know the layout of the store. With an item like pumpkin, it might be on the holiday baking display, the canned fruit, or the baking aisle. In this tiny store where two carts barely fit side by side on any aisle, I’d scoured the shelves, finally stopping for a breath on the pasta aisle, where I remembered we needed macaroni and cheese for Christmas Eve to go with our ham. 

As I reached for the dark blue Kraft Deluxe box I usually buy, I saw the price and it might as well have been a snake striking. There was no way I was paying $5.89 for a box of macaroni and cheese. No way my mama’s memory would let me even think about it. I studied every other brand, including the store brand, and it was the same. Too much. We’d do without. 

About that time, a man wearing denim overalls, work boots, and a flannel shirt ambled up with his hand basket up to his elbow, about to purchase the same box I’d wanted. He retracted his hand like that box was a hot potato when he saw the price. He did a double-take.

“It’s a sad day when a man can’t afford no macaroni and cheese, ain’t it?” 

“Yes, sir,” I confirmed. ”I’m going to be mac-and-cheeseless, too,” I assured him, nodding toward my empty cart that I didn’t really need – – a hand basket like his would have sufficed.  

He sucked his teeth and pursed his lips. ”Well, I ain’t buyin’ none,” he muttered, walking on.

I finally had to ask directions to the pumpkin aisle. The first worker, a young teenager stocking bread, had no idea what I needed. ”Wait, it’s pumpkin in a can??”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s pureed pumpkin. Any brand will do. I usually buy Libby’s.” I could tell he was hung on both the word pureed and the idea of pumpkin in a can. It seemed to be blowing his mind, this pureed pumpkin in a can. My mind trailed back to my deep discussions with our Curriculum Coordinator about the need for more emphasis on vocabulary instruction in our schools earlier in the week. 

He said he’d have to ask, and off he went – never to return.

I ventured back to the main aisle, looking for a different worker down each aisle the same way wives look for lost husbands, finally finding an older teenage female sitting on the floor stocking cans. She paused. ”Aisle 2,” she said. ”I had to think about that one for a minute,” she confessed. “Look right past the fruit cups on the left at the top.”

Sure enough, on a top shelf, there was the Libby’s I’d missed the first time I’d looked, sitting back at an angle. I reached up, pulled 4 cans forward, and headed to the register to check out.

Two checkers were slammed, so a third opened Register 5. An older gentleman wearing jeans with a huge belt buckle, a pair of shiny cowboy boots, a button down shirt, and a thin jacket stepped over to place my bag in the cart. I wasn’t sure whether he even worked there or not, but as I was wondering, he read my pumpkin label and removed all doubt.

“Ah, Libby’s,” he read, prompting a knowing smile. ”Back in the early days, we had the best price on Libby’s vegetables. 59 cents for a 16-ounce can. Folks came three to a mule for Libby’s vegetables.” His eyes had that reflective sparkle that the older generation gets whenever the memories of simpler times come rushing back. 

And then I made a mistake I regretted when I got to the car. I nodded, smiled, took my bag, and said, “Thank you, sir,” and exited the store. I should have asked about those days. I should have asked about those vegetables. I should have asked for a story that now I’ll never hear.

I learned some things yesterday, because I missed at least two opportunities with the macaroni and cheese man and the Libby’s man to learn some history. 1) Next time, I’ll find the oldest person to ask about where to find things. 2) I’ll take time to talk a little more to those who initiate conversation. 3) I’ll initiate more conversations myself – – because there are so many stories that folks need to tell, and that I need to write.

And I feel their empty space.

Family Christmas

We celebrated Christmas with the Johnson side of the family last night and played a couple of games of Left Center Right on the heels of dessert. The dinner menu was kept simple – Stouffer’s Lasagna, Cole’s garlic bread, and salad, with peach cobbler a la mode for dessert. Christmas and Thanksgiving are the only occasions on which I get out the good dishes and set the table with a tablecloth, chargers, placemats, fabric napkins, and a centerpiece – in our case three, to honor our departed mothers. We still don’t have much to drink from besides Mason jars, so we use clear Solo cups for our sweet tea. These dishes, I should mention, were given across the years (like my beloved Nativity set) as Christmas gifts from my mother and my former mother-in-law to build a set a few rungs higher than our basic white lead-free, chip-proof Corelle which came on the scene when I felt the first signs of arthritis.

Dishes that have been family gifts over the years

The ancestral kitchen spirits are always welcome, but on holidays we go a step further in summoning them; we light candles for Briar and Kyle’s mom (Pat), Bethany’s mom (Barbara), and my mom (Miriam), as we do on other holidays to remember them and keep them close.

Ollie with Briar bringing game luck

I do not believe in fancy seating place cards, though, not when there is theater box candy screaming in the dollar store to be used for this purpose. Everyone had a favorite at the top of their plate: Reese’s Pieces (Jack). Milk Duds (Briar), Raisinets (Kyle), Sugar Babies (Jax), Junior Mints (Andrew), Hot Tamales (Bethany), SweeTarts (Cece), and Boston Baked Beans (me). 

Fitz sits with Bethany

Even the dogs wanted in on the fun. We think the one reason Briar won both games when he was the only one who had to be coaxed into playing was that Ollie sat in his lap bringing good vibes. Fitz stayed with Bethany, and Boo Radley stayed under the table and with Kyle.

We exchanged gifts and sampled a libation or two, and our gift with strings attached were lottery tickets for the 620 million Powerball drawing on Saturday night. If any of us wins on those tickets, we have to give the other 7 folks in the picture 5 million dollars each. What’s 35 million on 620? We each placed our ticket on the coffee table and put a finger at the top of our ticket so we can check all the numbers via that photo. Nothing like a little family accountability in case someone tries to plan a surprise move to Switzerland suddenly.

Folks usually hope and pray for a white Christmas. We are hoping and praying for a green one!

Pumpkin Bread and Pinecone Feeders

Two important traditions rooted in books still prevail during Christmas holidays, continuing from the days when my children were small. They still ask for the pumpkin bread from the Frederica Fare cookbook, so I baked two fresh loaves Sunday morning and we devoured one, slathering each slice with our favorite Irish butter. Christmas isn’t Christmas without it.

We make pinecone birdfeeders each year after we read the book Night Tree by Eve Bunting, taking the treats to a tree in our yard and hanging them for the songbirds and other critters to have their Christmas feast. The kids enjoyed the sensory experience of gathering pinecones, coating them with Crisco, and rolling them in birdseed. This year, it was a special moment seeing my son and his family all engaged in this time-honored tradition that is a testament to the power of a book to create family pastimes.

The book was a Christmas gift that my daughter’s kindergarten teacher purchased with book club points for each child in the class back in 1992. Once we read the book together that year, we decided to make our own tree. We’ve been doing it ever since. In fact, the morning my son called at the end of 2012 from Tennessee to say he was planning to propose that evening, I was outside with the oldest grandchild making our Night Tree. A decade and five children later, here they are – – carrying on the tradition that started in the pages of a childhood book.

I also shared this book with one of our school district’s partner preschool centers this year in a professional development session at the beginning of December. Teachers read the book to each class, and they made their own class critter trees. The teachers sent me the photos of smiling, proud little ones who now watch from the windows to see the birds come, just as we do. 

Never underestimate the power of a book to make a difference and shape thinking. Cookbooks and children’s picture books are filled with all sorts of magic. Sharing sacred traditions with the next generation is a rich gift of grandparenthood.