Reggie in the Snow

Reggie loved the snow this winter. He loved burying his face in the snow, rolling in the snow, chasing snow, hiding in the snow, laying in the snow, licking snow, and eating snow. He loves snow. Evan and I got some great footage of him playing in some fresh snow, and I just got it off of Evan's camera. You can hear me laughing throughout the video...Reggie brought a lot of laughter to a long winter.

Skiing with Evan @ Schweitzer

Well, the good news is that Evan and I are still dating. If you are confused why I am mentioning this as an introduction to a post about skiing, read my entry about skiing with my dad from early winter last year. When alpine skiing, I can turn into an eight year old in a very short period of time. For instance, instead of calmly mentioning that I am starting to get cold, I pronounce with a whiny edge, "I'm cold!" As if I want the person I am speaking to fix the situation. Thankfully, this did not happen with Evan, well maybe it just a little bit.

It was a great day, with a gorgeous blue bird sky, and perfect visibility (which does not happen often at Schweitzer). We started the day out with him taking me through fresh powder for the first time! I was on my roommate Julie's shaped skis (so much better than my old school skinny skis!), and he was tele-skiing. It was definitely different. I can see how it would be fun, but at the moment I was a little overwhelmed how different the snow reacted beneath me. He took me on all the lifts I had never been on before at Schweitzer (I tend to stick to the same three because I know what to expect.). I was particularly happy with learning how to actually use my poles. After learning to ski at such a young age my body knew how to ski better than my mind, and at some point my body decided to stop using my poles. So my mind decided to just use them when I wanted to slow down. They work much more effective as a tool to assist one in turning. I loved practicing my turns and working on leaning into my boots more.

We took a break at lunch and let Reggie out of the car to relieve himself. We kept throwing snowballs up the snow berms with fresh powder on them. He had a blast, and was very tired by the end. We went back up for a couple of runs. I knew instantly when I was done. Suddenly, every run looked "really steep" and I was having trouble simply turning. I would go across the mountain in these long arcs before coming off the groomer into powder mounds that made turning even more difficult. At the start of our last run, while Evan stopped ahead of me to wait, I called down to him, "I think I am done skiing now." He gently reminded me that I would need to ski down the mountain before I could be done. I hate it when he is right.

I made it down, and apparently looked good doing it according to Evan. I am incredibly thankful he is so patient.

Maximillian Thomas or MAX the cat

We adopted him February 18th, 1994. That means he was just shy of his 15th birthday. He was quite the trooper. When he was just a kitten he used to bat at the buttons on the couch, and when you held him in your arms his little paws void of claws would knead at your arms as he purred in satisfaction. I read once that the kneading was representative of a kitten's attachment to its mother. It would knead at its mother's teats to get more milk, and transfers the kneading response to anything else pleasurable in its life when it wants more. They also knead in order to transfer their scent onto you, or whatever they are kneading. As Bill, Maureen, and I held MAX (my mom and I decided awhile ago that MAX's name was always to be written in capitals) the first day we met him at the vet's office, he kneaded on my arm. He wanted more, and he wanted us to be his.

As he grew up MAX became the neighborhood bouncer. He was lean and muscular with a swagger to scare off any kitten. And he loved to eat. I had a friend once tell me about a large cat that had come into his sun room and eaten his cats' food. He described the cat, and sure enough it was MAX. We often heard tales of how MAX had bullied a cat off his own porch just to sit a particular patch of sun. He was also a lover. We had one neighbor come over one day with over 15 pictures of MAX laying in the grass soaking up the sun. He used to help my mom garden by chasing clumps of weeds into the raspberry bushes where he was known to eat a raspberry or two when they were especially ripe. Naturally, I put him through a fair amount of torture by giving him regular baths, dressing him up in my doll clothes, and even tossing him in the hot tub once to see if he knew how to swim (he did). MAX always preferred to pee outside, to the extent that he would even venture out in the snow, delicately shaking his paws after every step.

As the years went on and MAX's muscles started to sag, and he became a homebody, yet his shoulders still held their broad posture. His swagger turned to more of an awkward, bow legged hobble. We started giving him cortisone shots for his arthritis. My favorite part was when Dr. White would say, "He'll be doing back flips in no time." This past October when I was home he jumped up on Evan's chest while he was napping. MAX never did this. He preferred to sit next to Bill, laying lengthwise against his legs. Bill always tried to get him to lay on his chest to no avail. All on his own, MAX jumped up on Evan and laid down. He placed one paw above Evan's wrist, and one below as if to grasp his arm. I think he was happy with who I had brought home.

Today was MAX's last day. The cortisone only helps for so long until quality of life declines. When I left for Germany in high school MAX became Bill's buddy. He knew I was his mom, but Bill was his best bud. I know Bill did everything he could to make MAX's last hours special, and I can only imagine that he was kneading his paws as he fell asleep for the last time.

Winter Has Arrived

I moved. Again. I tried living in a town of 500 people, and decided it was not for me. I enjoyed the short commute to work, but not the long drive to "town." The easily accessible wilderness was also a bonus. This picture is from Thanksgiving and our walk we went on up Lightening Creek road with all the dogs. In addition, Erik and Kendra are expecting a little cherub to enter their lives any day now. I am not yet ready to enter the "baby" stage of my life, whether it is my baby or not. I see myself as very comfortable in the "dog" stage of my life. There is bike, car, plant, dog, house and then baby. First, we learn how to be responsible for and take care of our bikes and everything that goes with that such as cleaning, learning the rules of the road, thinking ahead about weather, safety. Then we get a car, when we are ready to take care of a living thing we get a plant (or some type of caged animal). Dogs are a big step up from plants and caged animals as they actively speak out if you do not care for them. Babies are a huge step up from dogs that I am no where near ready to take. I need to teach Reggie to come first!

I love my new place in Sandpoint. It is a newer duplex I am sharing with my friend Julie and a previous roommate of hers. It is also conveniently just a couple blocks down the road from Evan. I am excited to have a little femininity in my life, and also just being closer to conveniences like the grocery store and the bank. It took me awhile to settled into being in town. I realized my first month here I was spending more money than usual at the grocery store. I thought back to when I lived in Clark Fork and remembered how any time I was in Sandpoint I went to the grocery store as often as I needed to, and every time I thought of something I needed. Once I was back in Clark Fork the variety was limited and the price was high. I just have to get back to city living.

Another joy of city living is the city plowing. The snow banks get surprisingly high along the sides of the residential streets. This does three things. The streets get quite narrow, which just makes snow driving a little more challenging. Secondly, when passing through an intersection there is always the question if another vehicle is approaching and often times sticking your nose out to check becomes a little risky. Thirdly, the snow blocks my mailbox and as a result the postal service does not deliver my mail and I have to go to the post office to pick it up. Why do I not just shovel the snow away? It is not just snow, it is large ice chunks and I could only imagine how cold it would be to lie on my back in the snow covered street after my back gives out from shoveling large ice chunks.

Reggie, on the otherhand, LOVES the snow. He repeatedly shoves his face in the snow and rolls around on his back in the large drifts. He burrows through deep snow and jumps like a large rabbit. Reggie was not made to love the snow. His hair is long and the snow clumps up around his face and legs to the point where he has trouble seeing and walks bow legged. It is not that I do not like the snow, I love how white it is and the way it covers everything. I love it when I am on skis, or snow shoes. I do not like it when it covers the road and it is hard to drive. I do not like it when I cannot get my mail. I do love seeing Reggie play in the snow.

Reggie's Social Skills

Evan and I both had a couple of days off last week and decided to spend it in Seattle. He spent a good chunk of time taking care of his mom after her shoulder surgery to repair her rotator cuff. Naturally, Reggie came with us and I spent a good chunk of my time entertaining Reggie. He was such a good boy. I love having a dog that can travel with me and make himself at home anywhere. He would spend hours just playing in the backyard. I would watch him just explore the whole yard with his nose to the ground. He eventually assembled a pile of what he considered interesting objects in the middle of the yard, such as a watering can, a large stick, and an old tennis ball.

One afternoon I headed out to a city park in search of the dog park hidden within it. I was very proud of Reggie's social skills as he bounded into the park and sniffed every dog's butt with no discrimination. He played with large and small dogs alike and wanted to be everyone's friend. He came home and laid like a fuzzy rug on the floor for the rest of the day.

The next day we drove to a dog park near Lake Washington and once again Reggie was in heaven. He sniffed every butt he could and wanted to play with every dog we walked by. He was filthy after a good hour of play so we decided to see if he was interested in swimming. You betcha. He bounded through the waves as if he was trying to catch them. Unfortunately, he was unable to demonstrate his well honed fetch skills as every time we threw the ball he was distracted by another dog and decided that other dogs were more exciting than balls.

It was great to spend some time getting to know the big city on foot. And as always, I enjoyed visiting Whole Foods and salivating in front of the cheese.

Down for the Count

About two years ago I hurt my back and was down for the count...for quite awhile. The physical pain numbed me out to everything in my life and sucked me into a empty void. Every time I felt pain run down through my leg, or was restricted by my physical limitations the mantra that went through my head was, "I want my life back." As I went through physical therapy, pain pills, nerve stimulation, personal therapy, and epidural injections my pain started to subside. Unfortunately, after months of being void of feeling I no longer was sure of who I was and where I was going. It became clear that if I wanted my life back I was going to have to fight for it. And fight I did. After fighting for one's life, it becomes clear that it is not worth it to settle, for anything. I knew my life was worth so much more. When I got back up and back into the game of life I made the decision to find a job that would consist of more activity than sitting in a chair and talking. I moved to Idaho and created a lifestyle for myself that I thought was only possible when on vacation.

My back is not perfect. I know there are things that irritate it, and other things that bring me relief. While home in Michigan I did a handful of things that irritate my back. I came home and decided to take a long hike to bring a little peace back to my body. If you know me at all, you know I tend to push myself. Reggie and I went out for a beautiful hike with golden leaves and spectacular views on a clear day. As my heels blistered as a result of not hiking much all summer, I pushed on. I did not stay hydrated. I did not rest. I just pushed in the name of bringing peace back to my body. Ironic, I know. When I got home I rested, and stretched a little, yes, only a little. A day later I threw my back out by bending over to help up a student. All in the name of bringing peace back to my body...

I knew the pain well, and the silent tears that fall without control. I stayed calm and I used my breath. If anything, I know how to take care of myself when the pain sets in. I know not to do it all alone. I know when I want to quit and I am frozen in my fear, it means I need to reach out for help. I made it to the doctor with the help of a friend, took my meds, and asked for a prescription for physical therapy. I knew what I needed. I may know what to do when the pain sets in, but my judgment starts to fail when the pain subsides. That is when I want to do all the things I have spent days not doing, and jump back into my life with reckless abandon. And then the pain returns, and with it fear.

I am stuck in this cycle now. I am taking it day by day and looking forward to starting physical therapy on Tuesday. I spoke to my old physical therapist and he graciously found me a physical therapist in the area. Erick was my saving grace when I was ready to give up, and just hearing his voice reminded me that I can do this. I can re-strengthen my back, and get back to my journey. I believe my back pain is always a reminder for me to re-evalute my choices and my path. And I do not have to do it alone.

Tour de Michigan

While in Michigan there were several comments made about my lack of posting lately. I cannot argue. My only excuse is that Reggie was a handful of sorts for about the first month. The good news is that he is potty trained and no longer eating rocks! Just yesterday he walked over to the sliding door and sat there with an expectant look. There was no barking, no whining, just waiting. I was incredibly proud, not to mention thankful that I just might be done scrubbing the carpets free of excrement and urine.

I spent the last week in Michigan, and I can honestly say, "I did it all." I saw all my aunts and uncles, some of my cousins, grandma, mom, dad, and all my closest friends. I was in metro Detroit, Traverse City, Charlevoix, Midland, Ann Arbor, and Kalamazoo. To top it all off, the colors were at their peak and all the driving was well worth it. Evan came with me and was a great sport through the whole whirlwind tour. However, his favorite day was the one where we just hung out at home in Midland. I was so worried he would not be "entertained" and it seems he did not need any "entertaining" at all. He helped around the house, went to hit some golf balls, and then put up his feet and took a nap. What was I doing? A little shopping, of course. If there is one thing North Idaho is missing, it is quality shopping. We have plenty of shops for fancy pants tourists, but not so much for the metropolitan girl gone west. I do not think Detroit was ever a great fit for me, but I could not complain about the shopping.

Leaving my friends and family was hard. The first thought was, "why in the world do I live so far away from everyone I love??" It is easy to get caught up in that kind of talk, but I know that everything is different when you are a visitor. I remember living in Michigan and barely finding time where a few of us could make a simple afternoon of tea and chitchat. Everyone has time for you when you live on the other side of the country. I also remember how much I needed to do something for me, and set out on my own adventure. I have, and I am blessed for everything I have found.

To see the rest of the pictures click here.