Oliver and I are a lot alike. Doesn’t take much to amuse us or make us happy. This morning, while finishing my first cup of coffee, Ollie had taken real interest in his toy drawer. This drawer hasn’t been opened much lately. It holds toys picked out when Ollie was a puppy. His “brother”, a blue dachshund, only made it this long because I protect him from Ollie’s jaws. I may not have mentioned the fact that Ollie is an extremely destructive dog.
Ollie chews through the indestructible. Nylabones last minutes. Deer antlers take a wee bit longer, but not much. Oliver dismantles the most adorable cloth toys in search of the squeaker inside. No matter how many hours the two of us have discussed this, Oliver cannot help himself. In most ways, he is still just a dog.
This morning, I found his favorite tennis ball and gave it to him. One of his games is to take it next to a cabinet and push it under. He then will stare woefully at me. He turns on the guilt, never moving a muscle. Extreme puppy eye contact will work every time, and he knows this. I always get his ball for him. At this, he finds humor of the best kind. This game can go on all day, so the balls usually get put away with the other toys after awhile.
Chewy’s sells bigger balls that have a squeaker in them. So, this morning, I remembered I had two in the garage. After braving the cold, he had a brand new one. In two minutes, the squeaking apparatus was removed and eaten. Just like that. Even being a dog, Oliver never forgets the important things.
For me, there are the simplest things that keep me entertained for hours, just as the ball does for Ollie. Obviously, the first is my keyboard or journal. If I have one or the other, time matters not. I can amuse myself for hours. As the months have settled me, I have so much to say before my time expires. “Writing is life.” This bold statement opened a 5th Grade student’s essay, penned in class. She had started writing at 5. I took a little longer, however, we both knew our heart’s truth. Writing is life.
Just as Ollie chases his tennis ball until exhaustion overtakes him, I find words and stories waiting to be told. Just the other day, a girlfriend was telling me that she wished she had an exciting life like mine about which to write. We had a long discussion about the fact that plain life is exciting. Everyone has a story to tell. It is in the telling the true excitement lies. The Joy of Storytelling.
Ollie needs very little. Two meals a day. Fresh water. A bathroom with a clean pee pad and a door that closes. A safe place to rest. A toy or two. Me to love him up. Oliver is a happy camper with the basic needs met.
As I count my blessings, and look at what I really need, the list gets shorter every day. Eliminated are most things girly-girls desire, such as jewels, purses, shoes, and other possessions, having tired of those things long ago. I have always been much more interested in a well designed shovel, or leather boots that keep my feet warm when I am outside working. Levi 50l’s were my favorite jeans for so many years, when my figure looked so adorable in them. Much to my mother’s horror, her fourth daughter was a renegade, who shunned the more feminine accoutrements of life.
What I need most of all, I have. My kiddos (which are definitely not kids but successful adults) shower me with their worries and concern, while loving me for no reason at all except that they do. They are there at the ready, letting me find my way. They keep me in texts and GIFS. They hold the memories with me that make us a family. They share my grief, but also our happy memories. I can count on them and they can count on me. A good team we make.
As girlfriends go, mine are the bestest BESTIES in the world. The kind that get a sixth sense and call me when they have no way of knowing I am sprouting shingles. The kind that hold their tongue when I am going off on the road to crazy town, until I get to the turn, where they shout loudly. They giggle when I have new stories about a certain MFP who has the best eyes that gaze rather than avert. Although Oliver knows ALL my secrets, my BESTIES know a good portion and they still like me
I am now thankful that people from around the world are enjoying my writing. Never in my wildest dreams did I think someone from Saudi Arabia, Brazil, or India would find my words worth reading. It is amazing to think my night readers are having their morning coffee somewhere in the world, as they check in to read my words. I am so thankful for you, from wherever you may be reading.
I have every physical comfort I need and more. Plus a great shovel. It doesn’t get better than that. My gratitude journal overflows on this, Thanksgiving week, 2020. AS we all hold on for relief in 2021, counting blessings is a way to pass the time. Oliver is asleep clutching his new tennis ball. Time for me to get another cup of coffee. Oliver and I have the best things in common. Comforting to know I have some things just right.
On this Thanksgiving Week, I am going to re-run my first three blogs. I hope you enjoy revisiting them. Please take time to hug those you love, and save one for yourself. I will return with a new posting on Friday.
As always, I can be reached at Gg202071548@gmail.com. Happy Thanksgiving!