Memories that Make You Paws...

Yes, the pun is intended with gusto. Today marks a week since I had to say goodbye to a most beloved companion, my sweet dog Joshua. In his ripe age of nearly 19 (which he would have turned in November), his body was failing him and we knew it was time. I believe 100% he knew it was time too. So, I wanted to take just a few moments to remember him, as a great dog, who shared 2/3 of my life, deserves.

Joshua, also known as Joshers, Joshman, puppy and many more, can't be captured fully in a few short paragraphs. His temperament was equally loving as it was stubborn, and he certainly preferred to be the center of attention. He was another family member, only hairier and with a tail. I can't say he was much shorter than I was, and like the old adage says "Owners look like their pets," Josh and I certainly did, down to the curly hair and our funny struts. Josh was a sibling of three, so am I. He was the runt, and considering I have two brothers who are now stronger and taller than me, I guess I'm kind of the runt too.

There are a thousand memories flooding my mind as I think of him. He was my crying buddy when things went wrong. He made me laugh and was great at giving doggy kisses. He helped me learn responsibility and how to clean up messes, which I know will come in handy when I have kids :) He was a great listener- all loyal dogs are. He was my buddy, my baby, my friend. His tail always wagged and his butt always wiggled when I came home to visit after "growing up." I hated leaving him when college hit, but I think he understood- for that I'm thankful.

He was forgiving when I hurt him, and patient when I didn't speak dog. I loved the way, after a bath, he would rub his nose and face all over the carpet in my dad's office. He had the puppy-dog-look down pat and could usually brown-eye his way into persuading you to spoil him. When my mom cooked dinner and beef was involved, he made sure to partake in taste testing it first. He was never much for walking, and whenever we did as soon as we lapped back and came to our street he would full sprint back home. Again just like me he was a homebody. Whenever people hugged, he would jump up and down until someone picked him up and hugged him too. He protected us and barked like a big dog when he sensed something was wrong. He hated the rain (unlike me), but only because he'd have to get wet to go out. He wasn't a big fan of snow either, for the same reason.

He loved our family, that's an understatement. My older brother holding a special place in his heart as the giver of dinner scraps. And he inspired my youngest brother in many creative cartoon drawings. He knew my Dad was the alpha dog, and gave him the throne (most of the time). And mom, he followed her many days like a shadow, sitting beneath or beside her as she read or worked at her desk.

19 years is hard to capture on a blog. I've already written more than I expected, but am not surprised. When you have experienced so much joy for so many years, it's hard not to share it all. But with that I will conclude my tribute to my sweet baby puppy- for he will always be a puppy in my eyes. Thank you Josh for the years you chose to live with us. It is true- he picked us from when he was a puppy- following me around at the breeder's house before we even took him home. Josh your life and impact on mine will never be forgotten. And for that I can say I am blessed, I will miss you, always love you and in your memory I take a moment to paws...

Joshua Wiggles Waite
November 12, 1991- August 25, 2010

Where art thou Fall?

Now don't get me wrong, I love warm weather. The feeling of the sun on your face, arms and legs, even though mine currently look like they haven't seen the sun in years. Despite my pale complexion,however, I appreciate the time of year I'm not layered in 20 extra pounds of clothing just to walk from my front door to my car.

But after nearly twenty something days of 100+ weather I think I could stand a light breeze. Something refreshing versus scorching. Something where the heat index isn't running a temperature.

So since I can't change the outside thermostat, I decided to change something I have control over...my blog background. Yes it's a rather puny trade off but use your imagination. Pretend the leaves are changing color, and if you are in Texas look quick before they fall to the ground.

I know Fall is on the horizon. I already hear my husband's nervous chatter about football and Game Day coming soon. Back to school signs and discounts are in abundance, and sometimes I wish I had a reason to purchase new pens and notepads. The line "a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils" from the movie You've Got Mail comes to mind and I smile.

Well anyway, until it no longer feels like Masada I'll try and think cool thoughts. If only that would work on our electric bill too.

Shoo fly

There is a fly in our house. He's been buzzing around all weekend trying to find an exit with little luck. And if he tries what he just did again, he may be exiting our apartment in the belly of Mr. Hefty...

As my previous post noted I am in the process of perfecting something that is never quite perfect, my query. I escaped to the bedroom to make a few more adjustments but didn't realize I was followed.

In order for you to understand what happened next I need to tell you about my hair. If it was a perfect world I would permanently have my hair pulled back in the cutest darn ponytail you ever did see. But nothing is perfect, so today I'm wearing my hair down which means I'm sporting a nice mop-like style. I have a tendency like most girls to fiddle or adjust my hair while focused on something. At one point I reached up to adjust the hair falling against my right temple and that's when I heard it.

Buzz.

What the crap?

I reach up and run my fingers through my hair.

BUZZZ!

No way! The stupid flying maggot has taken shelter in my hair. And I promise you it's not because it smells. Pantene was applied and rinsed with great care this morning.

At this point I'm thinking, "Gross! A fly just landed in my hair and decided, 'This is nice. I think I'll stay.'"

Seeing that this rest stop was not approved by me, I stand up and make my way to the mirror. I toss my hair again just to make sure and...

BUZZZZZZZ!!

Heck No!

At this point I'm vigorously tossing and combing my hair, irritated as all get out that this stupid fly won't leave me alone. I reach the mirror and carefully inspect my locks looking for the intruder. I don't see or hear him anywhere else in the room so I wait. Did I kill him? Ugh, I hope his remains aren't still in my hair? Has he crawled to the other side of my head? Is this all a game to him? Then I hear him again.

No, he's not still in my hair. Somehow he managed to make it safely behind the blinds, taunted by an outside he cannot reach. (He, he!) Satisfied at his dilemma, I returned to the couch where I'm now typing this post. My attacker is still at bay for now, but if he knows what's best for him he better keep on the move or his next landing might be his last.

Now I'm going to pull my hair back.

Query Bound

To my fellow writers who are currently embarking on the mind numbing journey of writing a query: May the pithy force be with you! (Yes I'm watching Star Wars as I type. Part 5 The Empire Strikes Back.)

By now, like the novel, my query has once again undergone reconstructive surgery. I spent most of yesterday and a good chunk of my morning preparing, yet again, a suitable summary of my 360 page book into two paragraphs. I know, piece of cake right?

Wrong!

A query is not only the concentrate to someone's hard pressed orange juice, it also needs to be this eye-catching, heart pumping prose an agent will never forget. Like when Jake Sully first experienced the world of the Na'vi in his Avatar body...he just couldn't get enough. (Gosh this blog is riddled with sci-fi references :)

So with a few more updates and some cleverly placed flattery, my query will be ready to face a new round of Jedi agents. Hopefully this time around my "lightsaber" skills will catch someone's eye.

One of those strange things...

How often does something happen to you that's just plain strange?

My average is less than a percent, but I might have upped it to a whole number the other day. It was a casual afternoon. I was enjoying a baseball game, despite the intermittent allergy twinges, with my co-workers. It was early in the 9th and a gust of wind blew through our section. With it came an unexpected friend, a yellow butterfly.

The wind's overpowering gust carried this little creature past the people in front of me until he landed on my seat. It was hard not to miss his arrival with his bright exterior. His landing was less than smooth as I watched him clumsily try to right himself. When I noticed his difficulty I offered him a hand, rather my thumb. And this is when it happened.

Without any hesitancy he not only accepted my offer of assistance, he gratefully crawled all the way onto my thumb and stopped there, content. Now I don't know about you but butterflies don't willfully crawl onto my fingers everyday. Despite my desire to be someone like Mary Poppins who can sing along with birds in a conversation, nature has never latched onto me like my little friend did.

I watched him in great shock, for not only did he seem happy to remain perched on my thumb but he also seemed to trust me. At one point another evil gust of wind blew through our section, and like a mom throwing my arm like an added seat belt towards the passengers seat, my other hand flew up to protect him from the gust. Now most rightfully skiddish creatures would retreat at this sudden movement, but not my little friend. He just sat on my thumb. And he did so for another 15-20 minutes without any sign of retreat. At one point his tongue even gave my skin a taste as he crawled further down my thumb toward my palm.

Now if you recall I mentioned this all began at the beginning of the 9th inning, and all things must reach an end. Seeing that I couldn't very well take my little friend with me, I don't think the car ride would have suited him, I carefully encouraged him to take refuge behind a steal beam where the wind's dauntless pursuit could not reach his frail frame.

I hope he's made it further than the ball park. Maybe found a nice little garden where he can settle, marry and make other yellow butterflies. But wherever he is today, I am grateful for the moment he gave me. One of those strange little things...

Changes, Changes, Changes...

I should have known it. I should have known my book would assume yet another transformation. And I officially understand why it takes so MANY years to "finish" a book. Writing is the easy part...editing on the other hand, well that's a whole different ball of wax :)

After almost three years of development, my book is a seasoned patient of reconstructive surgery. Should I dare say I'm done? Never! Then it won't ever happen. Although at this point I'd like to hand it over to someone official who can tell me to stop (he, he).

Just thought I'd share this simple update of my book's current state of fluid completion. The next couple of weeks I'll address things like punctuation and sentence flow and then...

Anyone interested in taking a look???

Ripple Effect

OK I'm guilty. I have failed to post something on my blog as of recent (an old friend pointed out my delinquency.) Yes, I've been hitting my post snooze button. But I'm up now and here it goes.

A thought for my faithful (and few):

How can a post, such as this, change my life? Let's dissect this question. Simply my post is taking up a portion of your day. A few minutes at most or a couple more if you read slower. And it's certainly taking a few more to type it...

So ponder this: If you weren't reading this innocent post what else would you be doing? Changing your socks, eating a Twinkie, or possibly reading a less important blog (I'll pretend not to think about that one). The possibilities are endless. That's just it. I am causing a time ripple effect with something as simple as a few paragraphs. Now, what are you thinking?

I end with this. As I introspectively type, a particular movie comes to mind with just this topic. It's called Stranger Than Fiction. Rent it,buy it, Netflix it, Red or Green or Blue box it...whatever it takes watch it. (And as you watch it think how big a ripple an hour and a half movie creates :)

Meat Snacks

As I drove to work this morning I pulled up behind a delivery truck advertising snack food brands. Within that white van held a cornucopia of sweet and salty snacks. Innocent it seems, but there was one particular treat advertised my mind and stomach just couldn't come to terms with. Two words - perfectly acceptable but when joined together...UGH...my taste buds revolt at the thought...MEAT SNACKS.

Now I realize I may be the only person having issue with those two words sitting side by side, but just this once is it wrong for me to request segregation. I am aware it's referencing jerky - but then why not just say jerky. What marketing director gave the OK for "meat snacks" to accompany the brand name? I'm sorry but when I think of a snack - meat is not my default response.

"Gee I'm really hungry. I think I'll have a meat snack." Sorry - no bait!

Now my Q: Are there any word combinations you've seen that just don't work? Ones that should be band from ever joining forces? If you've experienced any travesties...share with caution.