SEE YA 2011!!! (ya bat rastard!!)

December 31, 2009 - be the best aunt/daughter/sister that I can be … and make it way of life so that it never has to be a ‘resolution’ again.  (DONE!! And really proud of the person I’ve become because of it!! … And so is my family!!!)

December 31, 2010 - be patient; give myself some time to heal physically and emotionally; and take care of me … This resolution was multi-faceted.  I needed to get my head and body on straight ... or as straight as possible, anyway.  At the end of 2010 I got really sick … and I mean really sick!!  I spent the last full month of volleyball season followed by the last 2 months of 2010 on an oxygen tank, pneumonia meds, bronchitis breathing treatments, and daily doses of the pain meds that I usually only take for emergency break through pain.  The docs wanted to admit me to the hospital, but I was the only coach for 22 girls.  I didn’t have time to be sick or stay in the hospital.  So I bedazzled my portable O2 tank case and made it a fashion statement!!  I also lost 15 lbs … from where, I‘m still not sure.  All of this started with one of my girls (volleyball players) that just had a cold … a little sniffle.  But she needed to share it with me, because sharing is caring, after all.  It has taken me over a year to get back to where I was before volleyball season of 2010.  I had also tried my hand at a long distance relationship with a pretty great guy.  But since we wanted different things, and the distance was beyond annoying, we decided that it wasn't meant to be … and that was a tough pill for me to swallow.   Keep in mind that I am the only one in my life that I have to take care of me.  When I‘m sick, when I‘m in pain, when I‘m heartbroken, I am all I have, so it takes me longer to heal and mend.  ... it is hard-assed work being an RSDer AND an RSD caregiver.
(But I did it and I can now say, “DONE!!”)

December 31, 2011 - quit being so damn patient and understanding all of the time, take a stand, fight for what I want and make it happen.  (yep, there’s that word again … want … I’ve really been thinking a lot about this the last few days, can ya tell??)  I am 42 …almost 43... years old and I’m tired of waiting … for everything!! I am ready to be proactive again!!

Why, you ask??  Because a fantasy world of “life” is no way to “live.”  I spent most of this year living in my imagination while I took care of myself (in more ways than 1!! …speaking of which, I need to get some new batteries).  2011 was filled with no sex, no romance, no vacationary travel (yes, another Jenn-ism), and no coaching.   But it was also filled with my ah-mazing fam … so I was able to hone my skils from my resolution for 2010, and that was actually kinda fun at times!!

And now ... 2011 was tough and lonely and emotional, but character building.  I set rules for myself and stuck by most of them.  This self-discipline crap is for the birds!! (but you know I’ll keep doing it … gosh darn it all to Hades!!)

I am a stronger person with a fighting will to live … and dammit, I’m gonna in 2012!!  No more waiting idly on the back burner, no more playing the role of “option,” no more volleyball hiatus, and no more stagnancy at the Chalet!!  I have faith that I will have a life in 2012 … WATCH ME!!! 

"Wanting" Makes My Brain Hurt

My heart is still gushing from my Christmas Morning Munchkin Miracle … but my brain is, once again, perplexed.

Christmas is the only time I can afford some of the necessities like new underwear, socks, leggings, perfume, and Ziggi’s gift cards … (Ziggi’s is my favorite local coffee shop, with 3 convenient locations in Longmont to serve you … and me!!).  I say “afford” because these are a few of the things I find in my stocking on Christmas morning … every year.  This year, along with the necessities, I received a gift that has me stymied.  A pre-paid Visa for $100 with one stipulation … I am only allowed to spend it on something that I want.   (C’mon Mom and Dad!!  You know that my brain doesn’t function like that anymore!!)  Ever since my RSD forced me to retire and the government started paying my joke of a salary back in ‘05, I have had to change how I spend money and how I think about spending money.  These days I can only think in terms of “need,” and “can I justify spending money on that?”

I have posed this conundrum to a few of my friends in the hopes that one of their suggestions will spark an, “OOH, I want that!!”  I was offered suggestions such as: a cure for RSD (that’s gonna take a whole lot more than $100 and me … that needs an army of suport!!); coffee and creamer (those are necessities and are already factored into the miniscule budget);  Pepsi (again, a necessity that‘s been factored in); a sibling for Kiva (which would end up costing me more than $100 in the long run);  more snow (I’m contemplating a sever beating for the “in-law” that suggesting that one … but I still <3 you JR!!);  California (this one is actually a fantabulous suggestion!!  I leave in 31 days to see my Cali-Angel … but the folks want proof of whatever I buy and I’m not sure that a bunch of receipts for virgin daiquiris at the beach meets the specifications); a new car (for $100??  HAHA … yeah right, Red!!);  “VB” which I’m assuming has something to do with volleyball … but it’s winter, Warrior Mama, and I live in CO, not Fla!!); and of course the peanut gallery tried to chime in with randomness … and they will both get head-slaps-Gibbs-style the next time I see them.

So, after some deep and serious brain-and-soul searching, here is the list of some things that I can justify wanting …
An island close to the equator (i'm purdy shur that $100 won’t cover one of those tho); a pair of kick-ass heels ($100 might only cover the left one tho); a date for New Year’s Eve (but $100 for a date/paid-escort would only guarantee me someone with a mouth like Russell Brand, a body like George Castanza, and the personality of a dead fish … however, it would pay for a few months of an eHarmony membership ... as long as I don't advertise my crippledom); a new tv/dvd player for my bedroom ($100 would buy a great one of those … at a pawn shop);  a 1950’s tabletop jukebox for my kitchen table (I’ve already put a couple of red ones on my eBay watch-list … but it’ll still take more than $100); new flufferings for my new Bodieland (yup, more jenn-isms, but my current flufferings are still great and work very very well);  more flare clothes (but that’s a ‘need’ not a ‘want’); and completing my Shirley Temple and Cary Grant movie collections (for all of those cold, lonely nights that I spend in the Chalet … finishing my collections should get me thru until Valentine‘s Day).

It has been so long since I’ve been able to think in terms of “want.”  "Wanting" only brings heartache and disappointment to me.  I have a ton of wishes and fantasies, but I know that they’re not realistic.  I’ve come to live by the term “need” … because, honestly, I cannot afford to “want,” (financially and emotionally) … I either need it or I don’t ... period.  I have faith that I will eventually figure out what it is that I want, but not before it gives me a migraine!! Is this really what my life has come to??  Am I seriously balking at thinking about what I want??  I can't even remember the last time that someone asked me what I wanted, let alone facilitated it.  I am always grateful for whatever I receive, whether it's from my family, a friend, the PTB, or my Entities ... and I will always find uses for whatever I'm given, but I am appalled at myself for giving up, completely, on wanting anything .  I'm gonna hafta sit myself down and have a long talk with myself!!  I may even hafta ground myself over this ... we'll see how I respond to my lashing.

Best Christmas Gift/Painkiller EVER!!!

Still in the spirit of Christmas (you’re about to find out why),  I find myself quoting to myself from the Good Book.  No, not Twilight, not anything by Sherilyn Kenyon, not Sonnets from the Portuguese, not Sequoya’s Syllabary, not Pride and Prejudice, and not How to Coach Volleyball for Dummies … I am speaking of the Bible.  

Quotes like: 

     Matthew 21:16 - "…from the mouths of babes"

     Isaiah 11:6 - "…and a little child shall lead them"

     I Corinthians 13:13 - "So faith, hope, love abide, these three: but the greatest of these is love."

     Psalms 23:5 - "…my cup runneth over."

If you’ve been following my blog, you’re probably saying to yourself, “Ok, she’s talking about a Munchkin again … more than likely, it’s her niece, Da Gurl.”  Well … you’d be absolutely, positively, without a doubt, correct!!  But there is a background story here, too, that factors in my RSD, my uncanny ability to be a martyr, and my skills in the kitchen.  Here goes the story…

Earlier last week, my dad asked me if I would cook Christmas Eve Dinner in the untraditional form of Mexican food.  “Seriously??  I get the honor this year??  HECK YEAH!!”  Six adults and two toddlers … I can plan this!!  What I didn’t plan on was doing it all by myself.  

Fast forward to the early afternoon of Christmas Eve.  On the menu were homemade chicken enchiladas, and cheese enchiladas, homemade green chili, homemade chili con carne, a taco/burrito bar, refried beans, black beans, and Spanish rice.  The Munchkins were napping so I got out the knives, the cutting boards and the raw meats to start the prep work.  Aaaaaaaand then my sister decides that that was the perfect time to clean Mom’s fridge.  Granted, it really needed to be done, especially with all of the leftovers that were going to get jammed into it over the weekend, but I had been planning on some help.  Checking my line of sight, I looked for other help.  My brother was nowhere to be seen.  I think I’ll start referring to him as Houdini because of his astounding ability to disappear without a sound … like, *gone* ...  car and all!!  <POOF!!>  So needless to say, he was of no help.  Mom was taking advantage of naptime by wrapping gifts and Dad was working on his “honey-do” list (trust me, that is 1 list that cannot be neglected in our family).  I was my help.  So I cut the chicken and set it to boil; I cubed the pork, floured it, and browned it; seasoned and browned the beef, and cubed and melted the cheese for the chili con carne; chopped and diced 2 large onions, six roasted green chilies and 1 whole bulb of garlic. 

It was about 3:30 and my sister had hung the “vacancy” sign on the fridge door, the Munchkins were up, and Mom was back downstairs.  There’s an annual party that my sister, her husband, the folks and, now, the Munchkins go to every Christmas Eve, and my sister needed Mom’s help getting the Munchkins changed, dressed, hair done and out the door.  After the party, Mom was going with my sister’s fam to church at 5:30 and Dad was going to come back and help me.  (Houdini was still a no-show.)  4:15, house was quiet except for the Christmas music via Sirius Radio combined with the methodical rhythm of shredding chicken and rolling two large pans of enchiladas.  5:30, the green chili was simmering and thickening, the chili con carne was done and awaiting to fulfill it’s role as Appetizer along with a basket of tortilla chips, a bowl of hot salsa and a bowl of mild salsa (we like to humor Mom’s sensitive pallet like that).  The 1st tray of enchiladas were in the oven and I had just started on the rice and vermicelli.  <phone rings>  Dad: “I stopped for a beer.  I’ll be there in 10 so you can go take care of your dog.” (yup, she’d been cooped up in the house, all by herself,  for over 5 hours).  <sigh>  No help.  I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and got back to the Spanish rice.  <DING DONG> … thinking that it was Dad messing with me, and was home, I waddled to the front of the house to answer the door, mentally brewing every sarcastic zing I could think of.  (my feet were swollen and beginning to flare, my legs were aching and hips were screaming.  hence the waddling and the attitude … but my lower half felt great compared to my upper half after all of the chopping and stirring and rolling.)  Imagine my surprise when I see a young teenage girl on the other side of the door selling cookie dough … on Christmas Eve … after dark.  Five minutes later (having to explain to her cute little self that I didn’t live there, I didn’t want any cookie dough, and the homeowners were not home at the moment) I forced myself to run back to the kitchen but I was too late … I had burned the rice.  (Frustration level rose, stress level rose, pain level rose ... you know the procession!!)

Finally Dad came back, I went home to feed the Keevester and let her out to run for a bit while Dad manned the kitchen.  My defenses dropped, just a tad but enough to let the flares start.  I grabbed my go-bag and put on the flare clothes that were inside of it so that I didn’t haven’t to open any dresser drawers … too painful.  I went back to the castle to be with my family for dinner (Houdini had reappeared) but I was in too much pain to eat … or sit down … or stand up … but I stayed.  This is my family, I love them and I would do anything for them … obviously, to a fault.  I had to forego Christmas Eve church that night because of pain, but I had spent time with my family, that was what was important to me.

Christmas morning, I put on the new ultra soft sweats that Mom and Dad had given to me the night before and headed back to the folks’ house.  After the charge and attack on the Santa gifts in the living room, I went into the family room to “pause” on the couch for a bit.  Polar Express was on a loop on one of the tv stations and I was able to shut down and work on my breathing.  Until I heard, “Up!!”  I opened my eyes to the adorably handsome face of my nephew, still in his Christmas pajamajams.  I scooped him up and sat him on my left side.  He snuggled into me and I closed my eyes and realized it didn’t hurt for him to touch me.  <LOVE>  Then I heard, “Autchen.  Up.“  (Autchen = Aunt Jenn) There, at my right knee, was the Christmas miracle face of my niece.  I lifted her up and sat her on my right leg … she’s still light enough to do that.  We sat silently, watching the movie, just the 3 of us.  As the elves were lowering the big, red bag of gifts onto Santa’s sleigh, Da Gurl threw her arms up over her head, grabbed both sides of my face (still facing the tv) and said, “Love Autchen.”  Not, “I.  Love.  You.  Too.”  She said it first.  Unsolicited.  Without repeating someone else.  Matter-of-factly.  “Love Autchen.”

All of the physical pain and lingering abandonment issues of the night before vanished in less than a heartbeat.  My heart was the only body part that felt swollen … well that, and my tear ducts.

Keeping my faith and holding my tongue gave me the kind of hope and joy that only unconditional love can bring.  And to me, THAT is the true meaning of Christmas.

I hope you all had a very blessed holiday, regardless of how you celebrated, and were able to share the love, faith, and hope with your families and friends.

My Haven ... let's not jack it up!!

I like that people come over to my house and say, “It’s so welcoming, cozy and warm here.  It’s like instant valium just by walking through your door.”  

In all honesty, I do try to keep the Chalet as cozy and relaxing as possible … for me!!  But it really does make me feel good knowing that others like to come over and visit me for the same reasons.  It is important for me, physically-mentally-emotionally, to decrease the amount of tension that can sometimes lie stagnant in the air, especially this time of year.  And in my humble opinion, atmosphere is everything!!  I try to create a haven ... a setting that is devoid of pain spiking circumstances.  And most of my friends and family respect that … and seek me out because of it.

It’s not as if I’m Nostradamus, Ann Landers, the Dali Lama, and Betty Ford reincarnated and raised by Dr. Ruth, it’s just that I have a unique perspective of life.  And most people know this about me.  So when they need advice, or help, or a slap upside the head, or just some encouragement, they know that they can always come to me.  I deal with a lot on a daily basis just from my RSD alone.  The pain ... the emotional swings ... the frustration of not being as independent as I want to be ... it completely depress me, so it does me good to get out of my own head to help others … and it doesn’t hurt my karma either!!  Besides, I can live vicariously through their antics without having to personally experience the negative aftermath that inevitably follows poor decisions.  And yes, there are even times when I learn from what others experience.  I find a way to adapt that knowledge into my life.  See??  Ever-morphing!!

I despise drama but I know how to deal with it … not that I like to, but I know how.  I can help to calm down anxieties and get people to work through their drama … when I’m asked.  I’ve been told that I’m a good listener and have a sympathetic ear.  I am also told that the rational and unbiased counseling that I have to offer is 'priceless'.  Now I don’t know about that last one, but I have survived a whole heap and learned a ton of lessons in the process ... and I’m more than willing to share what I’ve learned.  I will always keep learning and sharing until the day I die ... it's just who I am.  I do not offer this ‘counseling’ without permission, though.  Not everyone is ready to fix their own problem … sad but true fact.  I do not have the power, nor would I even want, to fix anyone, but I do have the innate ability to help people fix themselves … they just have to be willing to listen and make the necessary changes to be happy again.  Seeing someone turn their life and karma around for the better is 'priceless' to me.  I really do get a kick out of it!! 

However, I do not enjoy nor do I appreciate when someone else spends my stored energy and intrudes upon my Pollyanna attitude with the same friggin woe-is-me BS every single time.  There is always something positive that can be said about any situation.  You just have to be willing to find it!!  What really chaps my arse is when someone uses me and/or my generosity for their own selfish gains … or just to listen to the sound of their own voice while they bitch and try to twist truths to their own advantage.  Whether they want to steal my soul or my meager, but needed, possessions: they seek me out for help; cry on my shoulder; rant and vent while I sit quietly and listen, internalizing their stresses; taking only what they want from me and then they just walk out … leaving their poo on my doorstep.  I don’t mind helping someone work through their own poo from time to time, but the ones that do it habitually are finding themselves more cut off from me than ever, these days.  It’s sad because it’s the Christmas season.  The season of giving and sharing and loving.   But I have had to draw a line for my own well being.  In my opinion, there is only one occasion for which it is ok to be selfish, and that is when I am protecting myself physically, mentally and/or emotionally.  I practice Verbal Regurgitation with 2 dear friends and put my faith in the fact that I am my sole, earthly protector.  And <sigh> because of this, the Chalet will forever remain my haven!!!  

It's difficult, yet reassuring, to believe in karma ... but I have faith that I will continue to be of assistance to anyone who asks and is ready and willing to fix their own karma and happiness.  I also have faith that I will forgive the abusers, but even etch-a-sketch brain can’t cause me to forget about being used.  I'm a lot smarter than some people think!! ;) 

Let's Go With Christmas Miracle On This One

Yesterday was weird ... but the good kind of weird...

I am still in shock and the PTB are laughing at me again.  Just when I, admittedly, get fed up with waiting, they wave their magic wands and <POOF> I almost regret a few of my rantings ... almost.  I choose to call the happenings of yesterday a Christmas Miracle.  What happened, you ask??  Well let me just tell you ….

My niece did great in surgery!!  I have not yet heard how her night was last night, but I have high hopes.  My parents and my sister sent pictures throughout the day and my sis and I spent the better part of the afternoon texting about …. well … everything!!  From family to family recipes to Paula Dean recipes, to Pinterest, and, of course, Christmas … I was really worried about that last one.  With Da Gurl‘s surgery so close to Christmas, and the fact that it takes 9.5 hours to get over the river and through the woods to Amma and Paw‘s house, I had resigned myself to believing that we‘d probably figure something out to celebrate Christmas next week.  (something to which my family is not accustom) … But my sister informed me (while discussing the importance and necessity of Swedish Rye Bread) that Little Dude will be coming back to CO with our parents tomorrow and depending how Da Gurl did last night and how she does today, she will probably be coming out with her Mommie and Daddy on Friday!!  <insert happy Snoopy dance here>

Next miracle … Last night, while cooking dinner, there was a knock at my door.  Kiva went bonkers!!  Barking, growling, jumping at the window, but no whining.  Now, anyone that is familiar with my dog knows that when they come to the door, she’ll start barking until she recognizes who is here and then the insidious whining begins.  Last night there was no whining, which indicates a “new” person at my door.  It was a face I had not seen in almost 4 years.  It was the face that is attached to the body that bears the hand that signs my alimony checks.  2 days early even!!  AND a coupon for my fave local Mexican food restaurant … and a small card that said Merry Christmas AND had a smiley face.  If you know me and my history at all, you’ll understand my shock.  Now wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I will just say “Thanks Waffles, and Merry Christmas to you too.”

Miracle #3 … Mother Nature, the skank, did bring snow yesterday afternoon/evening, but it didn’t hurt as bad as it usually does!!  (I know, right??)  I don’t know if my body was still on guard from the stresses of the morning, or if I was somehow distracted from the pressure changes, but the only thing I really felt yesterday was the stress that resulted in exhaustion.  And this time of year, I'll take it!!

So I’ve changed my mind … it is no longer “be careful what you wish for” … it is now “be careful what you bitch about.”  (sorry Mom, but it’s true)

Just more proof that my faith has escorted me through another series of potential let-downs … and I’m still here to write about it.  It is definitely a good day to be above the dirt!!

Be careful what you wish for … and how you wish for it.

Five months ago I prayed, wished and asked, unspecifically, for patience  … and it is still biting me in the oostakaka!!  The PTB (Powers That Be) must’ve decided that I needed patience in every single aspect of my life because I now feel as though I've been placed on life’s eternal waiting list.  Sure, I give off the persona of being patient, calm, cool, and collected most of the time … but on the inside I’m almost always going friggin nuts!!!!  It adds to my stress level and we all know what happens when that level rises.  But … I can honestly say that I've learned my lesson here.  (and adjusted my meds accordingly, of course … but still waiting for them to kick in)

I have a strange brain, this is no secret.  I make up all sorts of conversations and lectures in my head.  It’s kinda like my own knights of the roundtable … the sarcastic cynic, the optimist, the masochist, the angel, the instigator, the intellectual, the coach, the cheerleader, the athlete, the freak, the rationalizer, and the dreamer.

I truly believe that this is how the PTB get their kicks … they call a meeting of my roundtable, the group votes, and then the group leader of the day (today it’s the sarcastic cynic) reveals their findings … “Oh, you can’t be in KS with your family for your niece’s surgery??  Wait and word will come to you.”  ~  “You need a what??  A new car??  Wait and remain stranded.  It will happen some day.”  ~  “Hmmmm … A cure for RSD??  That will take some time to formulate, please hold.”  ~  “You need it to be warmer??  Well, you can’t afford a beach so I guess you’ll have to wait til summer!!”  ~  “That person you want to see??  Yeah, we’re gonna keep you waiting there too.  Your frustration has become amusing to us.”  ~  “You need to pay your bills and finish Christmas shopping??  We’ll see that you get your alimony check.  We always do … even if it is always late.”   ~  “Your body is feeling a little better today??  Ooh ooh … just wait, we’re gonna make it snow later this afternoon.”  

All the while, the PTB just sit back and laugh as they watch me squirm and smoke and pace and trip over thin air and spill coffee and pace and pace and pace … yet again.  I’m done!!  I am done asking for patience!!  I am done waiting!!  It‘s time to take matters into my own hands!!  (uh oh, the masochist is fighting the sarcastic cynic for control now, this could get bloody … enter the rationalizer)  

Do me a favor, save whatever amount of sanity you have left and the next time you wish, pray or ask for patience, be specific!!

I have faith that I can control my knights, even though I’ll never be able to get them to shut up!!

SIDE NOTE:  The meds have kicked in and I just got word that my niece is finished with surgery and is in recovery ... so hopefully I can stop pacing now too!!  It’s only taken me 5 hours to write this in between laps.  Thank you PTB!!!

Occupy the Chalet

Mommie doesn’t feel like writing, so I took over her moveable writing window … because ... that’s the kind of dog I am.

Hi.  My name is Kiva.  I’d sniff your butt, but Mommie doesn’t like nose prints on her writing window.  It is very nice to meet you, tho.

A couple of nights ago my Mommie started getting sick … again.  All I can say is that you humans need to learn how to keep your viruses to yourselves and quit being mean to my Mommie!!  I mean, I love her more than bacon but when she gets sick, that Coach Crankypants lady comes to visit and I run for my room … fast!!  (underneath the dresser next to Bodieland.)

She coughs like she has a furball stuck in her tail; She talks in short, raspy barks; And how is she supposed to sniff butts and say ‘hello’ when she can’t breathe through her nose??   I tried to snuggle with her last night but she was burning up and leaking water from her face.  I tried to lick it off but I couldn’t keep up with it.  Something about her fever breaking, whatever that means.  Yesterday we watched 8 hours of Charmed reruns … which is 56 hours of my life that I’ll never get back.  And last night before bed, I caught her playing with the big writing window and lining up reruns of that show about those high school kids that sing and cry a lot.  Please pray for m…I mean her!!

Oh wait … hang on a sec … now I hear water running …

AAARRRRROOOOOOO!!!!  She’s getting in the shower!!!  She feels better!!! (please God, no Glee now?!)  BRB, I have to go stand guard (lie down) on the soft, fluffy, yellow bathmat and keep it warm for her.

Ok, I’m back.  Mommie said that I should tell you a little about myself since I‘m feeling like an assertive little brat today … You already know my name but my nicknames are: Key, K, Kivuhla, The Keevester, and Dummy.  I just turned 5 last month and I am a German Shepherd/Beagle … but Mommie calls me a Swedish Rusk Hound.  (What???  They’re good!!!)  I can spell too!  I know that p-a-r-k means that I get to run and jump and run and run and run!!  (I like to run.  I think it’s the Shepherd  in me … maybe the German, but I doubt it.)  I also know that r-i-d-e means that I get to go somewhere in the car.  I could stay in a car forever!  Mommie took me for a 10 hour drive one time and she called me a “rock star traveler.”  I didn’t have to tinkle for the whole drive but when we stopped for more go-juices (gas and water and coffee) she hooked my roaming leash to my collar and we found places for me to walk and stretch and sniff.  I only wish I knew what “camel bladder” means … she’s says that to me a lot.

But I do love my life … except when she leaves me.  I don’t like that so much.  But I love it when other people com to see me.  My uncle is fun … usually … sometimes … when he’s in a good mood … rarely.  Auntie Docktor stayed with me last time that Mommie left and I love her lots!!  And then from late April until early October, Mommie takes me for walks on my orange, short leash.  She used to use my pink, roaming leash, but I kinda like to run around her in circles … which usually doesn’t end too well for either of us.  And did I mention that squirrels fascinate me?  It’s so cool because we have so many of them in our neighborhood for me to chase!  But even though we don’t go anywhere or do anything in the winter, we still have fun.   Mommie spends a lot of time in the food room.  She calls it “cabin fever” but I call it “Kiva-heaven”.  She’s always making something … mmmmm rusks, pig butt, chex mix, breakfast burritos, green chili, Swedish meatballs, Popeye and Lewis dip … and I get everything that touches the floor … ya know, sometimes I think that she drops food on purpose just so I can taste it.  Yeah, my Mommie’s cool like that.

Oh no … I gotta go now.  The mail lady should be here soon and I need to be ready to scare the crap out of her.  Thanks for reading about me.  Oh, and Mommie says that she still has faith even if she doesn’t have her sanity anymore.