Star Struck

Write about a project you did for school when you were a kid.

I really cannot remember a project from when I was a “kid”, unless high school counts as being a kid.  In my geology class I did a diorama of the different types of stars.  I remember filling the box with dangling red, yellow and white sparkling fuzzy puff balls.  It felt like something I should do in elementary school, and yet I found the entire project completely fulfilling and was excited to bring it back to class.  That was the same teacher who won my heart forever by playing the song, “Galileo” by the Indigo Girls and then asking us to discuss the lyrics.  The angels sang in my head.  He was my first real exposure to a more “sensitive” adult male.

Really? I am sooooo ahh-some...

Those words sailed across my mind in ticker tape fashion as I logged on today to post. 

I have obviously failed horribly at this quest of keeping up a blog.  Big bomb-o.  Ka-pow.  I swore up and down, again and again that I really would post regularly this time.  And a little later...Okay,okay, maybe I didn't make it that last time, but it was because of a horrible bout of insecurity and I didn't want to look silly in front of the thousands of people who read this blog.  But now I'm back and I am soooo on it this time.  Or not.  It seems like one out of two people that I know and their Great Aunt Sally has a blog up and running.  All of them post more regularly than I do. Actually, Aunt Sally's Bingo Review blog is really quite thrilling.
 
Interestingly enough, despite my erratic behavior, I still like this blog.  I just don't have the heart to throw it out completely.   I feel like this poor blog's philandering spouse.  I am constant cheating on it with other more interesting and dynamic activities like reading, talking on the phone, wiping down baseboards, making sure my dog doesn't run off and pee in the corner, and breathing.  In-out, in-out, all day long.  Really it is a huge commitment.  All the while, Mr. High and Off just sits here, quietly entertaining the few guests that visit with the meager posts I leave him, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment. 

It is appropriate that the very title of this blog is "High and Off".  Should anything else be expected from such an author of such blog?  I would argue no.  So, perhaps I am only staying true to the very nature of the blog and myself.  Let's call it, keeping it real.  Regardless of my pitiful efforts, I remain utterly amazed by the blogs that some of my friends have put together.  They are so advanced and gorgeous!  I always say that I am going to learn how to do those cool layouts and add all of those fancy links and buttons, but then my dog gets that look in her eye and I know she's about to go squat in a corner of our house.  So I take a little 4 month break and forget about it.

Plus, I have to keep this blog up and running for the two people that live and breathe for each and every entry, my mom and sister.  Understandably, they just don't get enough of me on a regular basis. So, the blog must go on.

I have been writing a bit on my own from The One Minute Writer Blog.  I figure I can always post those.  And if you get bored, refer back to Aunt Sally's Bingo Blog, or any of the other awesome blogs I read and you'll feel like you didn't waste your time. 

The prompt today was:

You're going to create a new political party. Name it, and come up with a slogan to describe what the party stands for.

The Coffee Party-  Exactly like the Tea Party but cooler, with better hair and breath mints in our satin lined pockets.  

I know that this doesn't really make a whole lot of sense.  But you only get a minute.  Just for the record, I so wanted to edit this, but again, I am "Keepin' It Real" for you people (Mom and Jenny).

Until next time, or April 1st. I'll be here or I will not.

Kate

Schoodle

These are the girls in the litter.  I like the one looking at the camera. :)

We are getting a schoodle!  In case you are not schooled in the now popular idea of breeding almost any dog breed with a poodle, a schoodle is a mix of a schnauzer and a poodle.  Both breeds do not shed, which makes it neat-nick friendly.  And when I say neat-nick you all know we are NOT talking about me! :)

Yep, I know some of you may be in shock that we are actually getting a puppy, but after months of visiting our local animal shelters and one failed attempt at adoption, we decided to go the puppy route.  This has been a new experience for me, since the only way I have ever experienced getting a dog has been through a shelter.  I have never gotten a pet from a breeder.

The four boys

 I am approaching our impending puppyhood as I do with almost everything.  I trot myself over to our library and check out every book I can find on the subject.  I checked out a few books for me, one for Josh and several children's books for the kids.  Then I hauled the load back to my house and we started our "Puppy Seminars".  The seminars were led my yours truly.  A seminar included watching a training video, eating popcorn and discussing how to use positive reinforcement with a puppy.  This almost meant speaking quite clearly to Kai that a puppy is not a toy and he/she can easily break if you are not gentle.  Hopefully this idea has hit home since Kai is quick to tell those that inquire about the puppy the following, "Puppies are little and you can NOT throw them down or they will break a leg!"  Yes, Kai that is correct.

This is the book we chose to order from Amazon and use as our home resource. This book says we'll have a smart puppy, so that's sure to occur if we follow all the rules right?  And look, it also says it will be "Fun, Effect and Easy!"  :)

One on-going game we've also played is "What should we name our name puppy?"  We are not sure if we will end up with a boy or a girl puppy.  So far we have "Cooper" if it is a boy, and "Eloise" or "Tilly" if it is a girl.  Our only real guideline in the selection process is that it have a laid back personality.  Part of the reason we are getting a puppy, and specifically a schoodle, is they are supposed to make great therapy dogs.  My hope is to train this dog to be a therapy dog and then take it to work with me once I graduate.  I know of a domestic violence shelter that uses a Maltese therapy dog. The women and children find petting and talking to the dog soothing, especially during intake interviews.  My hope is that our new puppy will not only be our newest family pet, but also a working companion for me.

We'll see.  Next weekend we head down to the breeder to make the final selection regarding the one we want to take home.  The breeder knows what we are looking for.  She is watching the pups for the one with the personality she thinks we are looking for.  We are waiting until 8 weeks to take the puppy home, which means we can pick it out on the 13th, but won't bring it home until the 19th.  (the breeder lets the puppies go home at 7 weeks, but the book suggests 8 weeks is the optimal time to take a puppy home, so of course I have to follow that guideline!)

I feel like I am puppy-pregnant; we are that excited over this new arrival.  I've never had a puppy before, in my entire life. I guess this feeling is why little kids across the world beg their parents for a puppy.

35

My birthday is this week.  Every year I before my birthday I feel a little blue, not because I am getting older.  Getting older doesn’t bother me as far as the aging process aging goes.  I’ve acquired some lines around my eyes, and my knees don't work the way I'd like them to but I can live with those ailments.  While some wrinkles are appearing on my face, I have the added bonus of adult acne to keep me young.  I swear I am the only woman approaching 35 who still has to buy the same face wash she did when she was 16.  So I may not look young, but in many ways I am still purchasing young.

Aside from some misplaced acne, what bothers me about aging is simply the swift passage of time.  Each year I look back and I think, “Am I doing enough with my life?  Am I on the right path?  Are those big dreams I held so dear now out of reach?  Are they even still on my radar?”  My aspirations over the years haven’t changed much, but my commitment to them has spiked and plummeted more times than I care to admit.  Maybe the ups and downs are a necessary adjustment, or maybe they prove a lack of follow through.  On a good day, I refer to the various fluctuations as a sign of flexibility.  On a bad day I scoff and call myself a wimp.  On my birthday I hope to just call it even.   I’d like to look at myself and say, “Okay, so you are now 35.  You’ve done many of the things you set out to do.  Have a good day today.  Enjoy the family and friends you have.  Drink something stronger than a Diet Coke, eat a piece of cake and meet me in the morning ready to work.”

ICAN Update

I mentioned in a previous post that I am participating in a volunteer training course for service dogs. The organization is called ICAN, http://www.icandog.org/help/volunteer.htm.  We are now down to the final two classes for the training.  This Monday night we will meet at the mall downtown to practice training the dogs out in public.  I am nervous and excited about it.  Each time we work with these dogs I feel like I am managing a superstar or something.  These dogs have been through a few years of training and could probably recite Shakespeare while juggling apples, at least that is what it feels like when you are with them.  Last week I missed one of the required trainings since Kai decided to swallow a quarter right before my class.  I took him to the emergency room instead.  That is a story for another post).  Luckily, the head trainer for ICAN was willing to call me on his lunch break to go over the material, so I can still finish the certification.

What stuns me the most about this training is how awed I feel about these dogs.  They seem to posses super canine powers or something.  I know that I am working with a dog that will literally change a person’s life.  I feel so incredibly privileged to be able to work with them.  We were told that as soon as we finished our certification we would most likely get a call to see if we could furlough a dog.  A furrlough lasts for 2-3 weeks.  During that time, you continue their training out in the community.  

My fingers are crossed that I’ll get a call at the end of October.  I want to be sure I can practice all I’ve learned and not forget it.  You can be sure I’ll post a picture of the first dog that stays with us.  It has been such a fun adventure. 

Cupcake girls

This is a term I coined a few months ago.  Cupcake girls are women who really need to put down their vegan organic carrot salad and indulge in a little processed fat now and then. There is a woman at my workout club who is extremely thin.  She does much of the same training as I do, so I often see her zipping along on the treadmill or slicing through the water in the pool.  I must note here, that we do the same type of training, but she does hers fast and I do mine at my “slow and steady wins the race” pace.  I’m not sure of her age but she seems to be in her mid forties.  One day she hopped into the lane next to me at the pool.  I wore my cozy Speedo suit, which I love.  Those suits stay put and suck everything in.  While other women may diet in order to sport a two piece, I happily stuff myself into a modest Speedo and thank God for the suction of latex.  Here’s my thought on bikinis.  Quite simply put, they leave me feeling naked.  You could not pay me to walk around in my bra and underwear in public, so why would I do so in a waterproof set of undies?  No thanks.   I appreciate that a Speedos exist as a lovely alternative to the torture of a bikini.  If I get your attention, I’d like it to be because I am saying something smart or witty, funny even, not because I do or do not have a muffin top.

Jumping into the pool she squealed, “Oooooh, it is soooo cold today!”  The temperature felt pretty comfortable to me.  I looked over at her.  Her body was a well baked brown, like the top of a fresh loaf of bread ready to come out of the over.  Although I don’t guess she indulged in the forbidden carbohydrate group too often.   Wearing a tiny two piece Speedo bathing suit, her stomach curved inward as if searching for food from within.  She reminded me of Gumby, with his large head and big feet.   This tall, painfully thin woman looked as if she had been stretched out, pulled apart to the point of almost breaking in two.

I couldn’t help but take notice of her comment.  Cold?  Well of course she was cold!  The poor thing was heating her entire body with the fat content of a sugar free popsicle!   

Losing my filter for a brief moment, I opened my mouth and the following comment rolled off my tongue like a slick weighted marble, “Ahhhh, stop complaining and eat a cupcake,” I said good naturedly patting her on the shoulder.  She laughed, but strangely enough, I haven’t seen her since.  Hopefully I didn’t offend her, but most likely I did.  What I meant to say is really hard to say to strangers, but if I knew her better, this is what I wanted to say to her, “You do not have to be 5’10 and weight 100 pounds to be a beautiful, amazing and intelligent woman.  In fact, if you are 5’10 and weigh 100 pounds, life might suck a little bit.  You might miss out on some really awesome things, like cupcakes with maple syrup frosting and bacon bits on top.  Or if that isn’t your thing, a really good batch of french fries, or homemade lasagna, at the very least, when you go swimming you wouldn’t be so frickin’ cold.  It is okay if your body reflects a sense of more and not less.” 

Which is precisely why I wear a one piece Speedo; I need just a little more for this body of mine than a little bikini can provide.  You know what, I see that as a good thing.  I just cannot keep my strong, curvy, well insulated body contained in a waterproof set of underwear!  Hallelujah and thank God for that!

ICAN

It is Monday.  Kai is in the next room, happily sleeping on the wood floor.  Our mudroom door is about ready for it's final coat of chalkboard paint.  I just finished leftover kale and white bean soup with a side of sourdough bread.  I have a fresh mug of coffee steaming next to my laptop.

I've been writing for at least 30 minutes each day for the last few days after lunch.  Luckily for me, Kai crashed out.  If he doesn't nap, which he really shouldn't be doing right now, then I institute the "Quiet Playtime-Time". For the most part, that works. 

Tonight I go to the second of seven classes for a program called ICAN.  ICAN stands for Indiana Canine Assistance Network.  This link explains the mission of the program:  http://www.icandog.org/index.htm.  ICAN pairs dogs with inmates in prison and people with disabilities together.  The prison inmates train the dogs to be service dogs.  Once the training is complete, the trainers then train the person getting the service dog, usually a person with a disability, on to how to use the dog. 

Last semester for my policy class, we took a tour of the Indiana Women's Prison and met a group of the women trainers and their dogs.  Some of them shared their stories about how they ended up in prison.  Others talked about the training and the dogs.  Before that trip, I had never been inside a prison. The women were well spoken, polite, unassuming and up front with our class.  The creation of this program inspired me.  The women shared with us that only the very best behaved inmates are given the dog-training positions.  I do not remember the numbers exactly, but it was something like 250 women applied for 10 dog training positions.

I decided to inquire about volunteering for this program a few weeks ago.  This summer, we told Elizabeth we would get a dog.  Since I haven't quite landed a job that works with our crazy schedule yet, I didn't really want to shell out a lot of money for a dog.  Our tour guide, Tammy told us that if you volunteer with ICAN, you can take the dogs on "furrlough" for two or three weeks.  The dogs cannot get all of their trainining in the prison. They need to get out in shopping centers, grocerry stores, ride in cars, go up and down stairs, elevators, etc.  They also need to be around a variety of people, older people, kids, and other pets. 

The volunteer helps to train and work the dogs in these areas.  It turns out, in order to volunteer you need to attended a training session of seven classes for 2 hours in the evenings.  I decided to try it.  Last week I went to my first class.  We learned about how they train the dogs, all positive and clicker based.  We met a few of the current dogs-in-training.  We also practiced some of the tenents of clicker training.  It is really a pretty big responsibility to take one of these dogs for a few weeks.  I felt a little nervous about messing one of them up!  I see now why you need to go to all of these training sessions.

Once these dogs have completed their training, it will have cost an average of $17,000 to get them there.  The people who receive the dogs only have to pay $950 for them. 

I have already learned so much. I am not embarrassed to say that I am applying some of what I am learning from the ICAN classes to how I treat my kids at home. Basically, it comes down to rewarding the positive a lot, ignoring most of the negative, not expecting too much too soon, and allowing the dog sufficient time to be a dog and do dog things.  It means staying calm, keeping your body relaxed and trying to have a sense of humor when things do not go quite as planned.  Replace the word "dog" with "child" and you have the key to parenting. 

One of our sessions will include a trip back to the Indiana Women's Prison to be trained by the inmates that have the dogs there.  Other session has us taking a trip to a shopping mall with the dogs to teach us how to train in public settings.  I feel like I am going to learn so much from this experience.   I'm looking forward to tonight's class.