Winter Wonderland

Our cozy 'lil cabin

Trailblazing pioneers on the first snowshoe of the year!

Colorado Bound...

I'm headed to Crested Butte early in the morning where, unlike Chicago, when it's all freezing temps and nonstop snow at least you can ski and snowshoe all day long! I will be taking & posting lots of pictures, as usual.

This year's goal: Conquer Snodgrass Mountain on snowshoes for the 2nd time. Not easy, but the view rocks:

"He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below
He saw everything as far as you can see
And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun
And he lost a friend but kept his memory"
-John Denver

Life is like a box of Crayons

"We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.”

-Anonymous

“Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation...so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type, I'm like, "Hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "Oh, you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "No - I want magenta!"”

- John Mayer

"Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination."
- Robert Fulghum

On a Lighter Note...

Worst Best Man Ever @ Yahoo! Video

"His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears."

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I started this blog on Friday, October 31, two days after my beloved dog died. I’m sure that sounds like strange timing, but it’s somewhat explainable. Without a doubt, Chief was part of my deepest self. Losing him made me think, for the first time in my life, that life was disgusting and cruel. I wanted to believe that there were reasons to think life was sweet…that there was still love and kindness in the universe.

It’s hard for me to write about Chief because nothing will capture his essence. For 12 years, I loved to talk about him, sharing stories and pictures. His death has brought out a side of me that doesn’t want to tell anyone, selfishly wants to keep him to myself, worries that sharing with others will make this more permanent. After 6 weeks, I feel a little more ready to share.

I was promised a puppy as a ‘consolation prize’ for moving to Texas in 8th grade. I fell so in love with Chief when we visited the breeder’s house. Of course, I picked out the best looking puppy (eighth-graders have very strict criteria). His markings were symmetrical and his face was perfect. To this day, I still have never seen a more handsome dog. I held him tightly in my arms the entire car ride home and well into the next week. I had to remind myself that puppies don’t grow when they’re constantly held. So, I discovered that if I sat Indian-style on the floor, Chief would come and curl up between my legs. Chief did that his entire life, actually. He knew that when I sat Indian-style on the floor, I meant business. As a puppy, he fit perfectly. As an adult, we were quite squished.

My love for the ‘lil guy grew exponentially in the years following. Chief provided the most charming array of companionship. When I was happy, he’d wag his tail so hard that his whole body squirmed. When I was sad, we’d get around the ‘No Dogs in Bed’ rule by sleeping side-by-side on a blow-up mattress. Of course, things always felt better in the morning. I was blissfully in love with Chief, only harboring half a thought that one day life would continue without him.

Chief was 12 this year, but by all accounts still young and strong. In fact, he was commonly mistaken for a puppy right up until the end. A tumor had formed on his spleen, unbeknownst to us, and Chief underwent immediate surgery. His heart stopped during surgery and then, after the vet had left the room and the assistants had given up, it restarted. I knew my dog was special. I knew he wanted to hang on. The day after surgery held great hope, as he seemed to be getting better. However, by the 2nd day, he was exhibiting undeniable signs of brain damage and my parents were forced to say their goodbyes. I, way over here in Chicago, could do nothing. Chief has lived with my parents since I went off to college and then got an apartment in Chicago. A 6-acre California vineyard and the promise of stay-at-home parents definitely trumps city living for dogs. So here I was, 2 days after my ultramarathon, my elated spirit short-lived. I felt inconsolable after Chief was put to sleep, but largely still in disbelief. It was too unreal- the Chief I last saw was running wildly in Colorado! I also felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that I had abandoned him in his greatest time of need. For all the times he nuzzled me during my sad moments, I was unable to whisper tender, loving thoughts in his ear. No goodbye for us. The thought of never seeing him again takes my breath away even now. Part of me is dreading going to Crested Butte for Christmas. That would have been the next time we would’ve been together. There, I will finally be forced to deal with the permanency of his departing.

At worst, thinking about Chief makes me believe life is filled with sadness and loss. More than once, I’ve been tempted to delete my blog because it simply does not feel true. At other times, though, I think it’s important to remember that life is filled with both sadness and happiness and we get to choose which one will hold the greatest influence over our thoughts. I also believe it’s one of the sweetest things in life to madly love your dog and feel their unconditional love in return. But it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to sit down on the floor, Indian-style, and wait.

"Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives."
-John Galsworthy

A Dog's Rules for Christmas

1. Be especially patient with your humans during this time. They may appear to be more stressed out than usual and they will appreciate long comforting dog leans.
2. They may come home with large bags of things they call gifts. Do not assume that all the gifts are yours.
3. Be tolerant if your humans put decorations on you. They seem to get some special kind of pleasure out of seeing how you look with fake antlers or wrapped in Christmas lights.
4. They may bring a large tree into the house and set it up in a prominent place and cover it with lights and decorations. Bizarre as this may seem to you, it is an important ritual for your humans, so there are some things you need to know:

-Don't pee on the tree

-Don't drink water in the container that holds the tree

-Mind your tail when you are near the tree

-If there are packages under the tree, even ones that smell interesting or that have your name on them, don't rip them open

-Don't chew on the cord that runs from the funny looking hole in the wall to the tree
5. Your humans may occasionally invite lots of strangers to come visit during this season. These parties can be lots of fun, but they also call for some discretion on your part:

-Not all strangers appreciate kisses and leans

- Don't eat off the buffet table

- Beg for goodies subtly

-Be pleasant, even if unknowing strangers sit on your sofa

-Don't drink out of glasses that are left within your reach
6. Likewise, your humans may take you visiting. Here your manners will also be important:

-Observe all the rules in #4 for trees that may be in other people's houses. (4a is particularly important)

-Respect the territory of other animals that may live in the house

-Tolerate children

-Turn on your charm big time
7. A big man with a white beard and a very loud laugh may emerge from your fireplace in the middle of the night. DON'T BITE HIM!!

(Source: http://www.dezert-rose.com/humor/christmas/)

Holy Handel!

Yesterday, I was witness to the single most moving and powerful piece of live music I've ever heard. I got tickets to see the St. Clement Choir sing Handel's Messiah (by candlelight, very cool). My favorite part, no surprise here, was the "Hallelujah" chorus. Maybe it was hearing it live, maybe it was the buildup of the prior 90 minutes of the Messiah, maybe the extra touch of how the choir closed their books as if to give this moment their unbridled attention, maybe the standing homage of the entire audience...I still can't explain it, and I've obviously thought this out! I know the St. Clement Choir really is that good (unbiased opinion here) and the choir director Randy knows his stuff. But, Wow! A thought flashed through my mind immediately after we all sat down and the church echoed in silence- Part of me is going to be waiting until the next moment I can hear that again. I've tried to download different versions today to re-capture the essence of this performance, but no luck (although this video is the best I've found and definitely worth a listen or 5). Enjoy!