The Time Game

So I’m putting up Christmas decorations today and I started thinking about TIME. More specifically, how fast time goes by as you get older.  I never believed it when I was a teenager – all I could think about was how SLOW time went by and how I couldn’t wait to be older. Well, be careful what you wish for, right?  Anyway, as I was thinking about time, I started thinking about all the songs about time and I decided to make a little game out of it.  So, here goes – I’ll try to remember the band or artist along with the title (if I can) but please feel free to help me out!

1.  Long Time – Boston (one of my personal favorites!)
2. Time in a Bottle – Cat Stevens
3. Time to Fly – REO Speedwagon
4. Time after Time – Cyndi Lauper
5. One More Time (Hit me Baby – Britney Spears)
6. Time is On My Side – Stones
7. Feels Like the First Time – Foreigner
8. Old Time Rock and Roll – Bob Seeger
9. Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? – Chicago

Okay, I’m stumped – can someone help me out and keep this going….

Ginger

Everyone thinks their pet is special – I’m no different. But Ginger is more than special – I believe she is an angel sent from Heaven just for me. Sometimes she just looks at me with the most intelligent expressions and I feel completely in awe because I just KNOW she’s trying to tell me something really important, (or either she’s trying to figure out why I’m acting so dumb!). Anyway, I swear she has more personality than some humans I know. It would only seem fitting that a lover of anything chocolate would have a chocolate lab. Ginger was not even supposed to make it. She had parvo as a puppy and the vet told us she was as good as gone.  But she fooled everyone and has kept on fooling us for 8 years now. Every time she has been sick or hurt, like when she started throwing up for 3 days not too long ago, I think she’s going to leave us. But then, I come home and she’s wagging her tail and her eyes are beaming with sunshine and happiness. But even more than that – she’s SO HUMAN-LIKE.  I swear, she sits on her butt like a person and lies in the bed longways with her head on the pillow. I’ve even caught her saying “moma” a few times when she greets me at the door.  As I said, she has so much personality, its like having another person in the house. (Now, if I could only get her to take out the trash!) Oh, the other week, my husband was working in the yard and piling up sticks, pinecones and other brush in a pile.  Ginger sat watching him and then, without any prodding, walked over, picked up a stick in her mouth and drug it over to the pile and laid it down.  My husband was dumbfounded and said if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would have never believed it.  Its amazing just to see what she’s going to do next! Then, other times, she’s as much a dog as she can be – scratching her butt, playing with her toys and begging for food from the table.  All I know is that she is one special dog – and one VERY spoiled dog. You see, I could never have kids (thats a blog for another day) and so I believe God sent Ginger down from Heaven to be my child on earth. Oh, I’m not one of those “dog mothers” who dresses her up in foo-foo doggie clothes, has her nails painted and takes her to the groomers once a week. No, Ginger is a bonafide dog – no frilly clothes, no fancy collars  – just a plain old chocolate lab who lives on a small farm with her “mom and dad”.  But thats whats so special about her – I let her be who she is, and she lets me be who I am. In return, we take care of each other, entertain each other and protect each other.   I think God made alot of special animals – and then he made Ginger.

Wow, My First Blog!

Thirty some years ago, we called them “diaries”. I remember my first one.  It had a hard gold cover and a tiny lock on the side. The pages inside were trimmed in gold – kind of like the edges of an old Bible.  I kept the key on a string, safely tucked away in my ballerina jewelry box on my dresser (which was also kept under lock and key!) That diary contained the very deepest and most private thoughts a 13 year old girl could have.  I’d sit in my bedroom closet with the door closed, with nothing but a flashlight and a thousand thoughts pouring out of my soul onto the golden-tipped pages of my diary.  It was childhood therapy like Dr. Spock never knew. Some days, I’d come out of the closet after hours of writing and feel drained and empty, yet full of hopes and dreams.  A kind of self-induced therapy at such a young age – maybe even an instinctive need to unburden my young soul of those things still yet to be understood. My diary was my best friend – always there, eager to listen – never judging – always accepting my words at face value.  It was also a treasure box of sorts – I’d tape or glue special mementos to its pages – a 4 leaf clover, a movie ticket stub or a special photo.  And like a true friend, that diary stayed with me throughout the innocence of youth and into the troublesome teenage years.  My diary entries then became more intense and the pages became tear stained, instead of adorned with childhood trinkets.  The last few pages held the most traumatic and intense moments of my life at that time and it was then I knew my diary had fulfilled its obligation to my soul. It was time to close it up and lock those personal moments away. For years that diary would stay hidden in the bottom of a box, way up on the top shelf of the very closet I sat in so many days and wrote in it. And then, like an unexpected visit from an old flame, I came across it one day. Its pages called out to me like screeching hawk. I was mesmerized and gripped by its power.  The tiny lock was rusted and all my childhood secrets were right there – waiting to spill out of the golden locked box that had kept them hidden for so many years.  As I read those diary entries, I was  swept back into time, like the raging rivers of a flood. Memories exploded in my mind like fireworks and I was back in childhood therapy all over again.  I found myself laughing and crying, unable to control either, as I continued to read the precarious words of a young teenage girl.  The 4 leaf clover and the movie ticket were still intact – although faded and dried out.  As I neared the end of my diary journey, I wanted somehow to return to those days and relive those memories – good or bad – I didn’t care – I just wanted to GO BACK.  Thats when I realized how powerful journaling was and how I had been gifted with the ability to put my thoughts down in such a way that perserved that power over time.  And now, through the technology of computers, I am able once again able to enter into that innocent, yet powerful world of childhood therapy, now known as “blogging”. My lock and key will be replaced by a password, and my trinkets replaced with digital pictures.  But regardless of the method used, the therapy remains as powerful and as healing now as it was over 30 years ago.

Here’s to Happy and Healthy Blogging!