Pepper finally agreed to sign her modeling contract and photo release. So now, after more than a year of mystery, Pepper’s face and form can be revealed to her adoring public.
Her first pose I call “The Regal Schnoodle”, and Pepper pulled it off royally! Unfortunately, immediately after this photo was taken Pepper began to look for better light.
She soon lost her modeling focus and the photo shoot had to come to an end.
You hear about it in the news every day. This company is cutting positions, that person is getting laid off, the person over there cannot find a job.
I guess now I am joining the crowd of unemployed, laid-off, job seekers.
I had a meeting with my boss today, and he told me that due to decreased enrollment at the school where I work, there will not be a position for me next year. So there will be no Middle School / Upper School Librarian.
I know I have a biased viewpoint, but personally I think someone is being short-sighted. Today’s librarians don’t spend all their time reading, shelving, and chatting on the phone. As a matter of fact, if I listed everything I did in a day this blog entry would become horribly long. So I won’t.
But I am amazed at how often people don’t really know what a librarian does. How much value we add. The place we hold in our modern information overloaded society.
Hmmmm. It was a lot of hard work, so maybe I shouldn’t gripe about being forced to move on. I’ll just let them continue to think that all I did all day was sit around and twiddle my thumbs.
Sigh.
Pepper is outside barking again. Every morning, every night, and several times during the day she runs outside and begins to bark and howl and make all kinds of noise.
I’m trying to be patient with her, but I cannot figure out what she is barking at! There are no cats slinking across her territory, no kamakazee birds swooping down to steal her food, no militant squirrels marching across the fence to their acorn stash, nothing. I can find absolutely nothing that could make her bark like this unless….
Sigh.
Now that I’m listening for it, I can hear it. Chuckles, giggles, and guffaws. It’s the Jupiterians, up to their old tricks. Again.
I wonder if it would be possible to train a dog to ignore something that I cannot even see?
Sigh.
What a day Father’s Day was!
Jade gave birth to a healthy baby boy, 7 pounds 12 ounces, 20 inches long.
Gazing at the child, I had to wonder what he will grow up to be. There is so much potential in his little self–why, he can be or do anything!
He is not yet a week old, so he is still so unformed, so young, that the color of his hair and eyes are a mystery. And what about his other characteristics? Will he be bookish or sporty, tall or short, husky or slender, bold or shy?
Ultimately, it really doesn’t matter. He is a little bundle of potential just waiting to be loved by his family.
Welcome Connor.
I’m happy to say that this morning I finished the Department of Temporal Adjustment (working title)!
It is such a satisfying feeling to complete a book. This book represents 2 years worth of hard work, 2 years of Saturday mornings spent on my computer, and 2 years of fun!
Okay, okay, I’ll admit it. The hard work isn’t really over yet. I now need to let it “brew” for a few months, and then I need to read it from start to finish. Again. I’m sure I’ll make a few changes here and there.
And then the publishing process will begin.
In the meantime, I have two more books fighting to get out of my brain. One is a picture book, and the other is a YA novel.
I wonder if I can work on both at the same time?
My, my, my. Haven’t I got a lot of fun times ahead of me!
It had been many years since I had a dog. As a matter of fact, the last time I had a dog for any length of time was when I was a child.
So did I forget what dogs ate, or are Schnoodles unique?
If Pepper (our Schnoodle) was allowed to eat whatever she wanted her diet would consist of 5 main food groups: the front yard, paper, wood, socks, and plastic.
It is bad enough that she eats our yard, but things inside our house aren’t safe either. Around our house, “my dog ate my homework” isn’t a joke, it is a fact. Anything left on the floor or on a low table is fair game for Pepper. Homework, books, credit cards, sunglasses, pens, pencils…you name it, she has probably consumed it.
I wonder who I should talk to to correct the name of her breed. She isn’t a Schnoodle, she’s a Schnoodloat.
They didn’t really mean to leave out that she was part goat, did they?
Ummmm, or did they?
Some days, I walk around and look at the pain and suffering on people’s faces and I feel sorrow.
Not sorrow that the people are feeling the pain, everyone is subjected to suffering at some point in their lives. It is sorrow that 90% of the time it is self-inflicted. There is no reason to suffer.
The problem, of course, is that many, many, many people take themselves entirely too seriously. They stress about the little things, agonize over trivialities, focus on the tiniest flaws in their lives.
They spend so much energy and focus on miniscule mistakes that they miss all the good stuff. They have no room left in their lives for the things that really count, like butterflies, sunshine, puppies, and the laughter of children.
Lighten up people. Step back from your problems and take in a broader picture. You’ll find that there is a whole world out there waiting for you to enjoy.
And yes, I too am sometimes guilty of taking myself too seriously. I have to remind myself to lighten up.
I have to laugh at myself. Or you.
Do you want to know my favorite compliment I have ever received?
It was when I was 17 years old, and it was given to me by a 17 year old boy who was madly in love with my best friend.
One day we were talking about the wonderfulness of my best friend and determining strategies he could use to get my friend to notice him. For a reason I couldn’t understand, since there wasn’t a natural break in the conversation, the boy became suddenly quiet. After silently looking at me for a several minutes he said, “You know, you are no raving beauty, but you are kind of pretty.”
As a 17 year old girl I was devastated. I desperately wanted to be a raving beauty, and I was insulted and hurt that I had to settle for being “kind of pretty”.
It was only years later that I realized the true intent of the compliment. He was not really commenting on my physical self, he just didn’t know how to express what he meant.
By saying I was “kind of pretty” he was trying to tell me he valued my friendship. He appreciated the hours I had spent listening to him blather on about the glories of my best friend.
After all, it isn’t every teenage girl who has the patience to listen to a litany of another girl’s wonderful attributes. Again and again and again.
It isn’t exactly a self-esteem builder.
So, after years of being bothered by the compliment, I’m happy to be able to say that I have figured it out. He was complimenting my good nature.
At least, that is what I’ve decided he meant. And I’m sticking to it.
To my darling husband,
I want to thank you for these past 24 years of marriage. I don’t believe there exists another person on earth that I would rather have spent it with.
You are not only my husband, but you are my best friend. You put up with me when I’m cranky, console me when I’m sad, and give the best pep talks when I lose focus on my goals.
I sincerely hope I am as good to you as you are to me, and that the next 24 years will prove to be even better than the first.
I can’t wait until next year! Silver Anniversary here we come!
By the way, I also thank you for taking me to see the new Star Trek movie yesterday. I loved it, and I love sharing great experiences with you.
Sometimes, it is very difficult to separate fact from fiction.
There is a part in my new book where the main character gets trapped in a room. No matter how hard she tries, she just cannot open the door to leave the room.
I was writing that segment the week before last. I finished, put away my stuff, and went to the door to open it.
It was thoroughly stuck. The knob would not turn. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the door to open.
Lucky for me my husband heard my calls and succeeded in releasing me from my prison. Good thing too, since I’m a tad claustrophobic, and the only other way out of the room is through the window, the room is on the second floor, and I also have a fear of heights.
This week as I wrote, my character was again dealing with doors, and was very pleased that she was able to go through doors that were partially open. So she was careful to not fully close the door of whatever room she was in.
I looked over at the door of the room where I do my writing, and had to chuckle. I had not closed the door all the way, fearing that it would become stuck again.
So which way is it…is fiction grounded in fact, or do our real lives somehow mirror fiction?
It makes you think, doesn’t it?