Mommy's Pen

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sue campbell

Hope You Like Bison

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Photo credit: lightfoot via morguefile.com
Photo credit: lighfoot via morguefile.com

Sometimes you have something important to get off your chest before you can settle down to rest.

This was the case with Nora last night. She couldn’t sleep until she told me:

Three reasons you shouldn’t try to kill a bison with a spear.

The first reason is that you may not be able to bury the spear deep enough in the bison, or it may simply bounce off the bison, in which case the bison may become angry and ram you.

I can’t remember the second reason and neither could Nora this morning when I asked her for clarification. So, sorry, hope this doesn’t haunt you. If it makes you feel better, I suspect there were only two reasons, and we were both too sleepy to count properly.

The third reason is that you may actually be successful and then what would you do? As Nora put it, “Geez, I hope you like bison! They’re so big some of it might go to waste.”

So, there you go. Once I was in possession of the knowledge, I had to share it with all of you. Mainly because I really need some sleep tonight.

This is a Test

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file000711900263For some reason, I was awake in the middle of night thinking about something a Buddhist nun said.

I was recovering from the flu and sharing a twin bed with a 5-year-old and a 73 pound dog, so it’s no wonder I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking of Pema Chodron telling the story of some folks on a Buddhist retreat. One of the retreat attendants was unpopular due to his general negativity. He was bringing the whole group down.

Finally, the group was out on the grounds of the monastery moving rocks or performing some such act of service and the unpopular guy was in a huff about it and would not stop complaining. He finally got so worked up he stormed off, announcing he’d never return.

Everybody cheered.

When the monk in charge found out about it, he went out and found the man and brought him back.

The monk was paying the guy to be there.

Because of course, the biggest test of one’s ability to practice lovingkindness, a major precept in Buddhism, is to see if you can do it even with people who get under your skin.

So, this little story was playing in my head on a loop that night (as important bits of subconscious have a tendency to do when we are half asleep).

Finally, I drifted deeper and slept until morning.

I woke up before everyone else, and is my habit, I checked email before I was fully awake.

And there I saw a Facebook friend request from a person who is my annoying guy at the monastery.

I closed my eyes for a moment in rueful recognition, shook my head, smiled, and hit “accept.”

 

How to Get Carried Away with a Fundraiser

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It’s that time again. Time for me to off the deep end, craft-wise.

Every year Nora’s school holds a fund-raising auction and each class makes a big-ass something that gets donated to the cause.

This year’s something was my idea, though now I have mixed feelings about not keeping my mouth shut — as I really just wanted to make it for myself. It’s going to be a supreme exercise in detachment to let this sucker go.

The finished product will look something like this

It’s a quilt, of sorts. We’re modifying the ingenious beekeeper’s quilt from Tiny Owl Knits by making it mixed media, so the little hexagons won’t just be knitted, but also crocheted and sewn (to maximize the skill set of all the class parents). Also, each child in Nora’s class will draw a bee which we’ll embroider on the fabric hexagons.

We need a total of 384 hexagons.

I'm slowly filling this jar and it's making me happy.

On top of that, we’ll build a beehive and provide all the supplies needed to start beekeeping (including bees!). Yes, people really do that here in Portland.

But wait, there’s more!

We’ll also make a donation of honey bees in the winning bidder’s name to Heifer International. (We feel kind of guilty about the idea of people who are doing well simply trading items of value with other people who are doing well, so we added that bit to help families in need. We’re just liberal like that.)

And we’ve got to get it all done by March 1st.

Did I mention that it took the woman who wrote the quilt pattern a year to make it? Never mind. I have complete faith in crowdsourcing, Waldorf style. Wool motivates us.

If there are any knitters or crocheters out there who want to bust out a few hexagons, let me know. I can supply yarn and stuffing and instructions. We need all the help we can get.

And please tell me about the craziest craft project you’ve ever done. We need ideas for next year.

The New Guy

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Meet Charlie, the new guy. We got him in September, when the dog-lessness of our house became unbearable (to two-thirds of us).

He is a cuddle bug. With the world’s longest tail. (18 inches. Ben measured.)

But he has some issues.

He’s a rescue, and as such, he classifies the entire world into two categories: things to eat and things to fear. We’re working through it all, but it’s a lot of, well, work. 

Sometimes, we don’t do such a great job of keeping on top of his needs. As every responsible dog owner knows, doggie mistakes are really human mistakes.

Which brings me to:

A non-exhaustive list of things Charlie has eaten, chewed, defecated on, vomited on or otherwise destroyed since his adoption:

(Really, this list should really be in a big globby paragraph — Salinger style — but in this internet age we need bulleted lists or our little heads might explode.)

  • Living room rug (soiled)
  • Replacement living room rug (chewed)
  • Hallway rug (chewed)
  • Nora’s mattress (vomited on)
  • Food dispensing rolling toy (chewed threads on cap, rendering it useless)
  • Replacement food dispensing rolling toy (chewed threads on cap, rendering it useless)
  • Harness (chewed right off of himself)
  • Countless hair ties (eaten)
  • Beeswax (eaten)
  • Fire wood (eaten)
  • Wads of wool batting (eaten)
  • Upstairs wall to wall carpeting (soiled)
  • Sheets (chewed)
  • Dog bed (chewed and shredded)
  • Replacement dog bed (chewed and shredded)
  • Slippers (chewed)
  • Binder for storing film negatives (peed on)
  • Pink plastic headband (eaten)
  • Rain boots (chewed)
  • Miniature garden (chewed)
  • North Face sleeping bag (peed on)
  • Sweater sleeve (eaten)
  • Wicker basket (chewed)
  • Duvet cover (chewed)

And all this has occurred even with the judicious use of baby gates and a considerably bully stick budget.

Miraculously, none of these ingestion events have landed him in the emergency room. But if one ever does, we had the good sense to get pet health insurance this time.

As most of you know, Charlie has big shoes to fill. An eight-year-old well trained purebred lab he is not. He’s just a year old, full of energy and uncertain of the world. But with lots training and lots of love, he’ll grow into the role of steadfast companion.

Speaking of growing, in the short time we’ve had him, he’s gone from fifty-five pounds to over seventy. Which leads me to worry, perhaps he’s growing into the tail?

10 Reasons I Haven’t Blogged in 5 Months

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1. For awhile, all I thought about was Hoover and there are only so many doggie cancer posts I can subject all of you lovely people to.

2. I fell into a brief, grief-related depression and needed to focus on eating spinach dip.

3. Nora wasn’t saying anything blog-worthy, because she was too sad. (See reason #1.)

4. I was busy with freelance writing assignments, for awhile.

5. Somehow I got talked into supervising people at my day job. And that shit is tiring. (Don’t worry, it’s only temporary.)

6. I spent several hours each day trying to prevent our new dog from eating the living room rug.

7. Then I was busy with the holidays.

8. I was knitting a shawl for Nora, then a big-ass doily-blanket thingy.

9. I simply fell out the habit. And that’s a very bad thing for a writer to do.

10. I needed time to figure out if this blog still had a place in my life.

And I think it does. Here’s what to expect from Mommy’s Pen going forward:

  • stories of my family that (hopefully) connect with your experience
  • new dog antics (his name is Charlie, he’s a big spazz)
  • recipes
  • crafting exploits
  • links to what I’m writing elsewhere
  • photos of Nora, she’s doing a 365 photo project this year

Basically, I’m going hodge-podge on your asses; it’s whatever I feel like saying, whenever I feel like saying it.

I hope you’re still with me. What’s been going on with you?

 

The Kindness of Strangers

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Hi,

I just found your blog by chance (I was googling a Lebowski sweater for a friend’s birthday!) and I ended up reading all your posts about Hoover. I’m not going to lie, I cried through all of them.

My dog Boris has just finished his second round of chemo. He is 3 and a half years old, and was diagnosed with an incredibly aggressive form of lymphoma. A year and a half ago, Boris was given two weeks to live.

I know chemo sucks, and I really really understand your fear and your concern for your dog, but you can trust me when I say – it is all worth it. My dog is happy, healthy, and full of energy. His oncologist actually wasn’t expecting him to live through this second round, so for him to be this great came as a huge shock to the entire oncology team.

I just thought I’d write and tell our story, because when Boris was first diagnosed and going through the first round of chemo, the only thing keeping me positive and strong for Boris, was hearing success stories.

I don’t know if and when it will come back again, but for now we’re living on stolen time, and I’m grateful for every single second I have with him.

You and your husband are incredibly brave, and I wish you so much luck for Hoover’s recovery.

Rosemary

Ps. I don’t know if you can get Vegemite in the US, but it’s the only thing Boris will take pills with. It’s an Australian spread – very salty and B adores it, it’s difficult to have it myself as he recognises the jar now!

Hi Rosemary,

Thank you so much for your incredibly kind words. It was lovely to wake up this morning and read your note.

Sadly, Hoover’s cancer returned to his lungs — and worse, he developed another tumor in his remaining front leg. He must have been in a lot of pain, but he never complained. However, there was a huge risk that he would break that leg and we couldn’t face the thought of him suffering for us.

We had to put him down on August 10th. We’re all still recovering and I just haven’t had the courage to write it up for the blog yet.

We are so grateful for the extra six months we had with him due to the treatment we were able to give. I know he was happy and comfortable until just the last few weeks of his life.

I am so happy to hear of Boris’ success story! And a handsome fellow he is, too. Dogs mean so very much more to us than we can quantify.

Also, good luck with your Lebowski sweater. I have the back knit up — but my model would not hold still properly for measuring and it’s far too big. I still need to rip it out and start over.  Let me know how yours progresses and I’ll send you a photo of our new dog, when we find the right one.

Best,
Sue

PS – It just occurred to me that the perfect way to tell the story on the blog may be to just post your email and my response. Do I have your permission to publish your email on my blog? It would save me the task I’ve been dreading.  Of course, it’s completely fine if you’d rather I didn’t.