2014/10/27

Back in My Day

Da Goddess @ 17:23

Back in my day, hoodies were called sweatshirts.

Back in my day, “puffy jackets/vests” were called down jackets or down vests.

Back in my day, leggings were stirrup pants. (Athough, to be fair, I prefer leggings and hope stirrup pants never return.)

Back in my day, a diet drink was water, iced tea sans sugar, or Tab.

Back in my day, cable was new and exciting. Now, we have DIGITAL cable and DVRs and all sorts of newfangled things. I like these things.

Back in my day, I was just a kid. Now I’m a grown up and it’s less fun than I’d imagined. EXCEPT for all the things I can do when I want to do them. Sure, there are more responsibilities and complications and that whole aging body thing, but overall, I quite like being a grown up. I do, however, miss the wonder of discovery that childhood brought. I miss the gentleness of life. The innocence.

You know, the more I think of it, “my day” is still here. Things are changing, to be sure, but so am I. And as long as I’m breathing, kicking, screaming, laughing, loving, learning…it’s going to remain MY DAY.

2014/10/22

Sick of Being Sick

Da Goddess @ 04:00

I’ve been sick for a week now. Laryngitis, headache, occasional fever, some congestion. You know the drill. And I’m sick of it. I’ve exhausted all my patience with being sick, of having to strain to be heard, of getting dizzy when I move. I’m so done with it all.

On the plus side: I’ve seen a bunch of good movies, binge watched some shows, almost caught up on all my regular TV shows, read some books, snuggled with the cats, and managed to NOT get King Arthur sick.

Bad news: I got this update from the San Diego Zoological Society in my mailbox:

We regret to inform you that over the weekend we received terrible news: Suni, one of the last remaining northern white rhinos, passed away at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Kenya, where he was living with three other northern whites. Poaching is not suspected as the cause of Suni’s death.

This brings the total world population of northern whites down to only six: three remaining in the preserve in Kenya, one at the Dvur Kralove Zoo in the Czech Republic, and two here (including our Nola), at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park.

As profoundly devastating as this news is, with your support we will continue working to save and protect the world’s most threatened species.

You know how I feel about rhinos and this makes me exceedingly sad. For anyone (like you, Pam!) who has watched the Stephen Fry series Last Chance to See, you will likely remember Fry’s trip to Africa (and to the Czech Republic) as he documented the efforts of scientists to move two northern white rhinos to Africa in hopes of getting the few remaining animals breeding. Personally, I hate to think of us losing a magnificent animal in our lifetime simply because humans have hunted them out of existence. And that is exactly what’s been done. Sometimes we humans suck. For more about the death of Suni, Nat Geo has an article very much worth reading.

To end on something more positive, I found a sweet series of photos of stray cats by the same guy who did the series of photos of his neighbors (sans their consent — of which I’m not a fan and find his intent to profit from it a bit exploitive, but no one’s asked my opinion). Anyhow, I figured I’d send you off to look at both and see what you think. (I adore the Strays series immensely as it totally captures the essence of absolute catitude, and while I’m not a fan of the method of capturing the images of The Neighbors, I do see the beauty in the images.) So, go on…have a look, then come back and share your thoughts. I’ll be waiting here with my nasal spray and tissues and remote control.

2014/10/15

Home & Death

Da Goddess @ 01:07

The best part of traveling for me these days is returning home. As much as I’d like to really enjoy being out and about, the simple fact is my body doesn’t agree with my head and my heart.

After I recovered from the faire, we had the drive to contend with. It was exceedingly painful. My shoulder was frozen up again. My right leg and hip were locked and painful. My left leg and hip were grinding as if there were glass on raw nerve once again. I medicated for the drive and was shit for company for poor King Arthur the entire way home. God bless this man! He puts up with so much of my physical pain beyond what most people would. I cannot begin to tell you how very much that means to me. Yes, he gets mad and yes, we argue about it, but when all is said and done, he’s exceedingly patient and helpful when I’m going through the worst of it. If I didn’t already love him so much, that would certainly seal the deal.

Because the meds I’m taking do a number on my dreams and sometimes on my partially-sleepy mind, and because of a few recent events, I got to thinking about what I’d want to have happen at my memorial should I die. Don’t go getting worried! I’ve always been this way. I plan for the future.

One thing I want to have happen at my memorial service (and I hope there would be one!) is to have a playlist already picked out. You know, music that means something to me. Music that moves me deeply now. Music that would hopefully lift the spirits of those in attendance. (You have to plan these things or else someone who doesn’t know you puts together the most dreadful stuff!) Of course, all that got me thinking about what kind of legacy I’d leave behind and, you know what I got? Nothing. Instead of depressing me, it gave me pause. It makes me wonder how I’d be remembered, leaving me feeling as if I’d betting get my priorities in order and start being the sort of person who would be missed after I go.

Weird, huh? But that’s where I’m at. And I’m okay with that. It’s given me a great deal to think over.

What about you? Any plans on how you’d like to leave this mortal coil?

2014/10/10

Mostly Live from Las Vegas

Da Goddess @ 19:19

King Arthur brought us out to Vegas for ren faire this weekend. We won’t be going until tomorrow afternoon, but we’ve managed to have fun even still. Last night we went to see Human Nature (thanks to my friend who is in the band), went for dinner afterwards, and then threw a couple games of darts.

KA got to meet another one of my dearest friends and they hit it off well. I love when that happens! I credit Big B with saving my life when he encouraged me to move out here years ago. For those who remember, my living situation before the move was horrible and I didn’t see any way out of the whole sordid mess. Once I moved, life got better. So Big B is one of those very special people to me, just like KA. That they met and liked each other? HUUUUUUUGE! It’s a very big deal to me.

Also spent the better part of this afternoon in a meeting at the time share KA owns. Couple hours doing that isn’t so bad when you end up getting to stay somewhere nice for basically nothing. The property is very nice and the people are accommodating (yes, it is their job, but when it’s genuine, it’s even lovelier). So, after that meeting, we came back to the room and have settled in for the evening. I’m wiped out. Yesterday’s drive wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly great for the old back and it’s left me a bit exhausted. Now it’s off to early bed for me. Maybe. Probably. Could happen. Who knows?

Hope you’re having a great weekend!

2014/10/03

18!

Da Goddess @ 03:19

Little Dude came into the world exactly 18 years ago at this very moment. It seems like only yesterday — in my heart.

I feel so very priviledged to have watched him grow from a tiny bump in my belly to the great man he is surely becoming. I do remember long nights of worry and frustration. I do remember the rough pregnancy, the horrible labor and deliver, and the fear I felt when I was told he was admitted to NICU and I hadn’t even had the chance to hold him in my arms for more than a minute or two. I remember all that and am so very grateful for ALL of it.

If there’s anything truer than what I’m about to say, I don’t know what it could be: Little Dude is an amazing young man. He has been a blessing. Always. Just as his sister has been. I consider myself to be the luckiest mom on the face of this planet to have been gifted such extraordinary children.

While LD is no longer little, he will always be The Dude to me. He will always be the boy who jumped plastic crocodiles, spoke with an Australian accent for two years, convinced his uncle’s family that his name was Steve, who…well, you know. I could go on forever and a day about him. It’s just hard to NOT talk about him.

This is his last birthday at home for a while, I think. He’s already enlisted in the Marine Corps and will start with them right after he finishes with high school. In many ways, I’m excited and in many other ways I’m a scared mom. I’ll never stop worrying about my kids. But I know this: he’s always been a Marine in his heart and he was always going to be one. I’m truly thrilled that he’s pursuing his dreams and setting his own path in life.

So, happy birthday, my dear boy! Follow your dreams and always be true to yourself. I love you to infinity and beyond and then some. Times infinity. To the infinite power.

2014/09/15

Hot, Itchy Albatross

Da Goddess @ 18:27

Well! Where to start?

Let’s see. Friday we headed down to San Diego to get set up for Ren Faire. The drive itself was okay. I’m still having a hard time with drives. It makes me hurt. Plus, it was hot. Very hot. And humid. Now, don’t tell me 30%+ humidity isn’t humid because you live somewhere it’s always 50+ humidity-wise. When you live in a normally dry climate, humidity in the double digits is ALWAYS a shock to the system, especially when the actual temp is like a dodgeball game between high double and triple digits. We’ll add to that equation a lot of dust and leaves and pollen and tons of manual labor in a largely breezeless environment. That should put you in the rough neighborhood of where we were. It was not pretty.

While I mostly did little more than “supervise” setup (poor King Arthur and our guild guys had the all the heavy lifting), I did have small jobs to keep me busy in between chats with friends. There’s really only so much I can physically do at this point. I felt rather useless. I was the albatross around their necks. I don’t like not being able to help more. But them’s the cards I be dealt.

Once we got to the motel, I showered off, noting the changing level of brown in the water as it gradually stripped the dirt away. It’s amazing how dirty you get when loose soil and leaf detritus mingle with sweat. After the shower, I settled into bed and actually fell asleep without any trouble. That may have been the first time in many months it’s happened. I still dreamt of pain, but I wasn’t waking up every 30 minutes! Hallelujah! We take our victories where we find them.

Saturday was a beast. A BEAST, I tell you. I barely made it through 40 minutes of gate duty and that was with shade. Only it wasn’t just the heat getting to me. My pain level was threatening to derail the entire day. Common sense dictated I head back to the guild, take my meds, and sit the hell down. Which I did. Gladly. Attendance was fairly light due to the insane temps. 104° with humidity over 30% again. In. the. shade. Oh joy! Because of the light attendance, faire became more of a kind of gig just for ourselves. I missed the usual flow of kids and families, but it was fun to be able to take in a show and talk with friends from other guilds. (Best part of the day was getting a wave from the stage from my new little toddler friend, Zoe. She’d been super shy earlier and would only smile after I started playing peek-a-boo with her. Her mom and dad are Old English folk dancers and are new to this faire. Mom had her in a sling during one of the performances. Very cute!) However, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy and relieved to be back at the motel. Ahhh, air conditioning (kind of — the a/c was being somewhat cranky at first)! Shower! Food! Bed! And then I couldn’t sleep. I may have had a full hour’s sleep at some point.

I had planned garb pretty well for the weekend. No long sleeves. No leather. Saturday’s garb was double skirt, blouse, sea vest, boots. Elizabethan enough to be period appropriate, so maybe “bethan” as opposed to ELIZAbethan. Sunday? I was barely “bethan” adjacent. Single skirt. Blouse. Boots. No bodice. No sea vest. I felt for everyone who had to wear full garb. Like our queen and her court. And the knights who were in battle gear (including armor). Saturday, 15 people (all guests, I believe) were treated for heat-related symptoms, three of which were transported to the hospital. Don’t know the count for Sunday, but my guess is there were fewer incidents as the medic had time to be a-wandering and a-visiting (see below).

Sunday (yesterday) was just as hot and just as humid and just as sparsely attended. Again, the nice thing with light attendance is the opportunity to hang out with other people and get to know each other. We have a new guild member. She was our waitress at dinner a month or two ago and we invited her to come play…and she did! She’s a great addition to the guild. We also have two prospective members who jumped right into our literacy gig and played alongside us with a nice family who stopped by. Then there were my favorite musicians at faire. I had a chance to get to know them better and I don’t remember the last time I laughed that much while feeling so awful. They’re a delightful couple who are just loads of fun and talent. I even got serenaded! As well, I got to spend time with our faire neighbors, listened to wonderful stories, heard a couple of disgusting tales from a medic, drank the equivalent of a lake of water and gatorade, and survived it all. Teardown went quickly and the drive home was uneventful. Thank God! Shower at home was one for the record books. Extra special plus was Fletch crawling up into my lap when I finally got to sit down. It was sweet. Fell asleep early, but I woke up wracked with pain (isn’t that a funny saying? I mean, the definition of wrack is to cause extreme mental or physical pain and yet we say “wracked with pain.” This, it would seem, means I’m in extreme pain with pain. Hmmm.). King Arthur, too.

Today’s been a challenge. Celia has conjunctivitis and went to the vet to be treated. On the way home, she pooped everywhere. She was covered with shit. KA called and had me prep the shower. Who was elected to brave giving the sea witch a shower? Me. And you know what? Celia was an absolute rockstar throughout! When we were done and it was time to dry her off, I wrapped her in a towel, held her close, and she just melted in my arms. Rarely does she allow one to hold her so close. I’m sure she was relieved it was over. Now she’s clean, dry, well-fed, on the road to recovery from conjunctivitis, and snuggly.

Our recovery day didn’t start out easy, but we’re now all mostly settled in for nothing but rest. I say mostly because there is laundry. I figured I was already wound tighter than an eight day clock, in pain, etc., so I may as well just get it done. My hope is to finish the second load and leave the rest for tomorrow, provided I can move then. Until then, I’m sitting still as much as possible, slathering myself with Benadryl cream because of the heat rash on my legs, drinking lots of fluids, and watching TV and movies.

Oh yeah. One last thing: I took my camera out of the bag Saturday and never took a single photo. Sunday? The bag remained closed. Ummm hmmm. It was THAT HOT.

2014/09/07

So Much Nothing

Da Goddess @ 01:34

I’ve been adjusting to another round of increased pain meds this week. Between P.T. and the drives to P.T. (really, driving makes my neck and back so much worse…and I’m just the passenger!), I’ve been having the worst time knocking the pain down to a manageable level. So, the doc has me on another two week course of Oxycontin to go with all my regular meds. It’s either that or I’m miserable. Except that I’m kind of miserable anyway, what with it making me sleep all the time. Poor King Arthur! He’s stuck with this lump of nothing all day long.

Also started reading a new book that’s rather interesting. “Life After Life” by Kate Atkinson. It’s very good and I’m having trouble putting it down. Kind of like the last book I read, which was “Code Name Verity” by Elizabeth Wein. Do yourself a favor and pick that one up immediately! “Verity” is simply heroic and joyous and heartbreaking and everything in between. It’s beyond words. I’ll have to let you know what I think of “Life” when I’m all through with it.

Been on a bit of a Stephen Fry tear again. I can’t help it! He makes me happy. As does Craig Ferguson. Sigh. I was supposed to go audition for Ferg’s new game show, but my back said, “No, No, Nanette!” Bother.

There’s a great piece on Joan Rivers over at Vulture. Man, she was the best! She was way ahead of her time. Always.

I’ve become the cat beacon once again. Fletch has returned to sleeping on my head, or at least nearby. Celia is often close, too. Perhaps it’s my pain level they’re sensing and are trying to comfort me through. Who knows? They haven’t left many clues as to the why.

OOOH! Also found a great article about a new Viking ring-fortress that was recently found in Denmark! Color me intrigued! P.S. I love that Viking kings had names like Bluetooth and Forkbeard (and yes, I knew this because I’m weird).

What else? Hmmm. Oh, yes. King Arthur and I went to his daughter’s to have dinner and see the baby. It’d been so long and she’s so big now! Doing a lot of cruising and crawling and eating and being adorable. I miss those days with my kids. They really were great babies and they’ve grown into great adults. So very proud of them. Just as KA is proud of his daughter.

Finally, I’ll leave you with this weird dream I had yesterday: King Arthur and I were at Burning Man (he was watching a doco on it when I fell asleep), but we were there early to set up and had faire garb with us (hmm, could be because faire is coming up again and we have to get ready for that). At some point, KA did something mean and had me in tears and I refused to go to meet up with our group because I didn’t want them to see me crying. Somehow or other, I ran into him at a beer stand (??) and he wept profusely and begged me to forgive him. I was still upset and set off to distract myself with entertainment. I passed Par1s Hi1t0n (???!?!?!!) who was dressed like a total hooch in the middle of the desert on my way to see Derek Trucks and Susan Tedeschi (????!) on the big stage. Eventually, I went back to our car because my back hurt so much (yes, even in my dreams I hurt…which is normal, except for last week when I was dreaming of my life before I got hurt) and began freaking out because I couldn’t find my medication anywhere. Talk about crazy ass dream! I’d like someone to sort that out for me. Also include an old high school boyfriend, a former LV boyfriend, Shemar Moore, a brother I have never had, and some unknown people who were in two groups: either hassling me or exceedingly kind to me. Oh, and a sculpture I made out of trash and recyclables for my Burning Man art project (because you MUST participate). If anyone can make heads or tales out of that nonsense, please do tell!

2014/08/03

Rollercoaster

Da Goddess @ 22:05

Life is like a rollercoaster these days. I start feeling a little better, steadier, and back off the meds a bit. And then the pain creeps back in. It’s frustrating. So I slowly add back in a med at a time, limiting them so I know which helps more than the others.

It’s a tough endeavor to break the pain cycle and do it effectively. And do it so it doesn’t fall off quickly, setting off on the cycle all over again. I really don’t know how to make it stick at this point.

Granted, I’m not in tears 100% of the time right now. That’s GOOD. But there’s a huge uptick in pain to the point where it’s threatening to cause, at the very least, welling up.

Heat packs. Ice packs. Meds. Up and walking. Then back to the big comfy couch or the recliner. That’s the pattern at this point.

I’ve slept a lot over the last 10 days. The sleep isn’t always very restful and the dreams are weird. That’s the nature of pain. I just go with what feels best and hope more of it will increase my odds of healing me enough to take me to a level of pain I can live with.

So that’s where I am right now. If you need me, you’ll likely find me on the sofa or in my chair, heat or ice pack in place, meds on board. It’s not exciting or glamorous, but it’s what I got to work with.

2014/07/30

It Makes Me Happy

Da Goddess @ 00:09

If we’re going to have to listen to Pharrell’s song “Happy” all the live-long day, please let it be because of this video. It’s the best!

Until someone comes up with something better, this is the only version I like. (Only valid entry that could possibly beat this one would have to include: Queen Elizabeth, Prince George, Prince Philip (Duke of Edinburgh), Prince Harry, Prince Wills and his lovely wife Dutchess Kate, adorable prancing puppies, frolicking foals, cavoriting kittens, maybe an albino hedgehog or two, and possibly Harry’s goat. They’d all have to be dancing, singing, playing, etc.

So, really, until any of you can make the above happen, I’m sticking with the nursing home version because it’s made of awesome genius.

2014/07/28

My Life as a Slug

Da Goddess @ 20:48

So here I sit, for last — gah, I gotta do math? (I’ll show you!), however many days. My back has been miserable. MISERABLE. But I’m slowly getting back to feeling better. Not normal. Just. Better.

The meds are doing what they’re supposed to do. It still hurts, but not as much. Each day is a tiny bit better than the last. However, there are some crazy fun (NOT!) side effects. Side effects like constipation. Side effects like swelling in my legs and feet. Side effects like constipation. Oh, I already mentioned that? It’s that bad. If I take anything, anything at all, I chase it with stool softeners. Doesn’t matter what it is, it could be Benadryl, I will still take stool softeners with it. Because it’s like there’s a boulder in my gut. I keep waiting for my own mini-ressurection. I mean, I remember this from when I had surgery years ago. The dachshund, the “broken” toilet bowl, the barking. (I tried finding that post but it’s gone, gone, gone in the lost archives, I guess.)

Anyhow, it’s not fun, this constipation thing. It is, however, somewhat exciting because each time I go to the bathroom it’s a bit like playing Wheel of Fortune.

I’ll let you just think on that for a bit. No need for graphic details from me.

Basically, my lack of movement (actual physical movement) is contributing to my other lack of movement. All that comes down to my back and the medications and my general feeling of noooooooooooooooooooo! It’s just how life goes sometimes.

While I started off with a full head of steam for this post, it’s quickly dwindled to a mere trickle as I wandered off to find my dachshund poop post. I’m easily distracted these days. I don’t remember where I was headed other than to complain how crappy (or not) life is at the moment. I’m sore. I’m tired. I’m stopped up. I’m cranky. Blah blah blah.

P.S. I had to laugh last night as I watched a show and one of the people kept saying her mother had “installed a love of cooking in me.” At least twice I yelled at the screen, “it’s INSTILLED! INSTILLED! INSTILLED!” but the woman didn’t seem to hear me. I have lots of time to ponder such things at length and it’s not as fun as it sounds.

2014/07/23

After All This Time

Da Goddess @ 18:36

I am alive and, well, not kicking, but definitely close to screaming. It’s been a bitch of a day, a bitch of a week, a bitch of a month. But things are looking up.

Got meds straightened out. Got adjuster drama straightened out. Got new meds for pain that’s not controlled by regular meds. And I got myself some circus peanuts to help ease the pain and frustration of all the bullshit I’ve been dealing with lately. Circus peanuts work wonders. As do Bullseyes (caramel and cream candies).

Also had to send more documentation for LD’s enlistment to his recruiter. Oy vey. So much to do. And it’s now done. I’m toast.

Now that all is done, I’m going to lie down and hope for some good rest.

2014/07/15

Finally, the Hummingbirds

Da Goddess @ 02:44

Yes, I did promise long ago to post these photos after the birds had gone (thereby ensuring I wasn’t jinxing their ability to do so). As you know, one baby hummer didn’t make it. The other, though, did. The nest has been empty for a couple weeks. Mom is gone, too. I’m sure she’s around somewhere, it’s just not…here.

Anyhow, without further ado, the nest.

We’ll start with the first fuzzy shot because it’s mom and the babies and it’s feeding time. It sucks, but it serves a purpose.

The fuzzy one

Of course, we have to see where the nest is. It’s on the leg of the carport. It’s about 6 feet up, which is hard to see from the ground (and why I missed it the first time), but was at the perfect height for us to spy on from the den window.

Just an idea of where the nest is

And now we see (with some clarity) what all the fuss is about.

more baby hummingbirds in their nest

Birds in nest

yes this would be another shot of baby hummingbirds in their nest

baby hummingbirds in their comfy nest

Birds. Because that’s what this is all about. That and my not-so-excellent spy skills. Seriously, shooting through the blinds is hard, y’all.

doing my best to act like a spy and shoot through the blinds

Birdies in the nest

mom is protecting the nest

baby hummers with notes

baby hummingbirds with their mom

The babies are getting bigger

And here is the shot from just below the nest. I actually went outside to get this one and got yelled at by the neighbor. She was afraid I was going to disrupt the birds’ lives with my big ol’ camera, my big ol’ lens, and my big ol’ self. First, the birds didn’t see me, I don’t think. Second, mom wasn’t around. Third, it wasn’t like I was trying to touch them (I wasn’t; I wouldn’t). Fourth, the “glare” the neighbor was (supposedly) worried about was non-existent (from the lens, but in full stink-eye mode from BEHIND the camera). Fifth, she made more noise and was more intrusive with her yammering than I was with my camera and my quiet self. Some people just have to be in charge of everything, I guess. Too bad she wasn’t around to save the one bird from its “help, I’m being eaten by a stray cat” fate.

Hummingbird babies in nest

While I had intended to include a photo of the lone survivor, I decided against it. It makes me too sad to look at that shot and see just the one, all alone in the nest. Yes, I understand that nature has its own rules and part of letting nature take its course means sometimes bad things happen and I shouldn’t get all upset about it. BUT I CAN’T HELP IT! So, it turns out one of my own weird rules is to go with my gut and not post an image that makes me sad and blah blah blah.

Was it worth your wait? Probably not. But, really, it kind of was just to see a nest of baby hummingbirds, right?

2014/07/03

Ah, Yes. The Detective

Da Goddess @ 17:24

I dunno about you, but I love detective shows. Always have, always will. The quirkier, the better. The only way detective shows can be even more awesome is if they star an older version of who we’d like ourselves to be. Or who could be someone we know. Like Quincy. Or Matlock. Or even better: Jessica Fletcher.

The best TV detectives are humble, have a sense of humor, are ethically sound (and still somehow occasionally struggle with those ethics when the evidence is at odds with their gut and/or their heart), smart, sometimes cranky, and loveable because they always want what’s best for us.

There are any number of shows I could point to, but Murder She Wrote occupies a special place in my heart because she was a woman and a great role model. Like Miss Marple before her (also once portrayed by Angela Lansbury), she was sharp and focused, but also deeply keen to understand the why behind the crime. She paid great attention to those around her, listening carefully, extracting information from the tiniest of clues because that was the only way to solve the mystery. In short, both gave weight to human nature and the study of their fellow man. They each proved there were advantages to being female: the greatest of which is people are often more willing to talk with you. There’s nothing wrong with appearing gentler, kinder, a bit softer. Those are the very traits that often unarm the ne’er-do-wells of the story. What more could a young girl want from a role model?

For me, it was a lovely moment to realize that being a girl meant I could do more and be more than just serve as a secondary character in a story. Jessica Fletcher gave voice to my longing to be the hero, to be if not the smartest in the room to know when to rely on the input of others and save the day. Finding other people who worship at the altar of JB Fletcher? Icing on the cake.

2014/06/27

We All Thought the World of Him – Tony Gwynn

Da Goddess @ 03:00

When I heard the news the other morning that Tony Gwynn had died, it felt like a little piece of all the goodness in the world was lost. Tony was truly one of the Good Guys. He was a talented ball player, that much everyone knows. But what they may not know is his amazing attitude wasn’t just for show; the man was simply a good-hearted man on and off the field. Instead of ending up in the newspaper embroiled in some scandal or for bad behavior, stories about him usually involved his kindness and generosity within his community.

At one point in my life, I lived practically around the corner and down the street from him. His home wasn’t surrounded by ten-foot-tall privacy walls or guarded by beefy security guys. No, he and his family were just another family in the neighborhood. My mom’s best friend at the time actually was one of his neighbors and she often remarked what a nice guy he was. No pretense. No “please don’t come over here, I’m famous…and therefore too busy to deal with you.” He’d wave. He’d offer to help you take your trash cans up your drive.

While other teammates were getting all sorts of press for refusing autographs unless you paid them or for swearing up a storm or throwing a temper tantrum (on field, off field, at nightclubs, at stores) or getting arrested for domestic violence, disturbing the peace, drunk driving, or drugs, Tony was smiling and laughing and doing things that made the world a better place. He remembered names; always took time to acknowledge friends, neighbors, fans, strangers; spent time helping a kid throw a ball properly; leading by example to teach others about the rewards of hard work and loyalty.

One of the best pieces I’ve read about Tony Gwynn was over on Deadspin by David Johnson. If you need a feel-good story for your day, this is the one. It also serves as a great reminder to each and every single one of us that being a decent human being isn’t just a concept, it’s something we should all endeavor to achieve.

Rest in peace, Tony Gwynn. Hope you got a comfy seat in the dugout!

2014/06/19

Two Little…er…One Little Birdie

Da Goddess @ 17:40

We lost one of the baby hummingbirds yesterday or thereabouts. The neighbor caught a cat (not one of ours!) skulking around the base of the carport leg (which is what I guess it’s called. I don’t know!) and then noticed one of the babies was no longer in the nest. Mama Hummingbird was a bit upset, it seemed, as she was hovering around the nest most of the day.

Now, it’s just one little fuzzball waiting for flight training.

Yes, I’m still taking pictures. Yes, I will post them. Eventually. Have you met me? I take the pictures. I just don’t always post them in a timely manner.

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