The Real Time Canine II

After spending 2 years writing the Real Time Canine, the adventure continues with The Real Time Canine II. Read along as I look for just the right puppy to continue the experience. After false starts with Tim and Jed, I am currently training young Tam, and Spot, which are both off to a strong start. Please visit the RTC II to read about training sessions as they occur.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Coffee with My Mother

I want to have coffee with my mom. The trouble is, she died in 1992, and she took a bunch of really good stuff with her. Looking back on my life, I apparently don't know near enough, and she apparently did. She knew how to forge a career from sheer hard work and determination, and she really knew how to stick with it. She knew how to deal with pain and betrayal privately. She just plain knew how to deal, and I need information!

Yosemite...I was 4

Mom grew up in the depression, and she knew how to make do. I grew up in the land of plenty, now there ain't enough, and I'm having a hard time here. My mother knew how to play bridge. I've always wanted to learn. She knew how to play bridge really well. I know how to play blackjack, but I'm way too cheap to gamble, especially now.
With Tiny, my 1st horse. Tiny was old

I don't think my mother and I ever had an in-depth discussion about anything. Even the basics were cut short. She attended the movie about menstruation with me in the 6th grade, but afterward, we didn't discuss it. She went to her closet, handed me a box of Kotex pads, and walked away. That was fine by me until I started my period, and was scared out of my wits that I had cut myself down there!

Swimming lessons. Megan was 18 months

When my daughter, Megan, was about to enter high school, I patiently explained that boys would try to stick their hands down here shirt, and to kick them where they live when they did. After the recoil, I further explained that they'd go for her pants too, and that's when I knew I had her attention. All I ever got from my mom was the admonition that I would get a reputation. I wish she had told me it was OK to say no, because I never saw that one coming.

Loving her grandaughter more than life itself

So, here I am bumbling through life wondering what her brother, Curtis was like. He died when I was a baby. I can only imagine growing up on a dusty Southeastern New Mexico cattle ranch in the 30's, and I would rather have the facts. Hell, I didn't even know she'd been married twice until, as a teenager, I rummaged deep into our hall closet one day and found my parent's wedding invite. Who was Black? That wasn't my mother's maiden name. Wha?? A drunken cowboy from Portales?!?? No kidding...I know nothing. We need to talk...over coffee, and I really have no idea why I didn't feel the need when I had the chance.

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