New news.

I am sorry to report that I am very close to the finish of Bleak House. It is an excellent read, and has kept me on the edge of my seat, often updating Rufus on the most recent and astonishing happenings. I have now begun a new book, Crazy Sexy Cancer by Kris Carr with a foreword by one of my favorite guitar-playing and singing recording artists. This book is about living life to its fullest, even with an incurable, degenerative disease. In short, thriving, not just surviving; surrounding yourself with fun family and friends.
My big birthday parade plans are put on hold temporarily due to some of the participants not living in this state. However, I do have a birthday-coffee date, and then a date to the great local Indian buffet. In the evening is the much anticipated pumkin-carving party, a 3-in-1 party of which I am not free to divulge the details at this time. Suffice it to say that I received from my favorite sister a pair of pumpkin socks, and I don't care what people will think of my pumpkin sock covered feet in my sandals.

Tadition of spontaneity

With this time of traditions once again upon us, let me say that I am wholly opposed to tradition. The only tradition I like is doing something different every year. My obliging mother has always made me birthday cookies, as I prefer them to cake. (That is, except for the year I worked at McDonald's and she made me a cake that looked like a hamburger. And the cake she made for my fiancé eons ago, where she topped the cake with several small rocks in a circle, and proudly showed off the "rock group" on his cake.) As far as tradition goes, my mom did not at all like my brown wedding cake. I was, and still am, more partial to what tastes good than how it looks, so the cake was coverd with chocolate-mocha frosting. So, it seems my intended blog about tradition has turned into a blog about cake. I like cake. Like my dad, I like equal parts frosting and cake. That's all I have to say about cake. (But I am going to get birthday cookies from Mom this year . . . possibly in addition to cake.)

Walking and walking.

Today, Rufus and I walked a long way to deliver a letter to a friend. Later in the afternoon, I went to the pharmacy for a prescription and then went to the store for a few things that I would easily be able to carry home. Well, those few things turned into quite a few things, and they were NOT easy to carry home. Twice I had to put the bags down and stretch my neck and shoulders, and shake out my arms. When I finally came within sight of my house, after one of the handles had broken, and I was trying with all my might to balance a watermelon, a carton of juice, two bunches of bananas, and two big cartons of oats, I actually left one bag on the ground in the shade of my neighbor's trash can while I took the other bag home. I went and got the bag I abandoned a minute later. What a workout! Everything I read about health says everything bad happens due to our modern, decadent, drive-thru culture. So I try eating and exercising as if I lived in a less developed nation. I sure felt like that when I was in such a struggle to get my groceries home!

Just Like Old Times, a character sketch for my friends

I've recently reread the eye witness accounts of woman I highly admire, a woman I want to be like. This woman lived in a town on the Mediterranean coast, a town of fisherman, a town filled with widows who had lost their husbands to the dangerous seas. This woman was continually doing good works and kind deeds, especially using her time and talent to make clothes for poor widows and children. She was well known in the community as a faithful follower of Jesus Christ. This woman who was known for her abundant good deeds fell sick suddenly, and died. Her lifeless body was washed and laid in the upper room. Since the Apostle Peter, who had seen Jesus perform many miracles, was in a neighboring town, several men went to him with no delay and begged him to come and do what he could to help the beloved woman. Peter went with them immediately, and as he stood looking at the body, the widows who had loved her so surrounded Peter, weeping and showing him the garments she had made for them. Peter sent everyone out of the room and knelt by the body and prayed, and then he turned to the body, and said, "Arise." Dorcas rose, and took Peter's hand. He called all those who loved Dorcas so much, and rejoiced with them that God had restored her to them.
The full account of Dorcas' life, death, and resurrection can be found in Acts 9:36-42.

The Way I See It, by Rufus

It occurs to me that there are very few literary canines out there . . . or perhaps they just don't have much to say. Maybe other canines aren't as observant as I, or get too easily distracted by cats, food, walks, and other mundane details of life. As the head canine of the M house, and having a delicate sensitivity to all goings-on here, I have become keenly aware of an air of excitement and general happiness. I know this particular brand of happiness to be of a not transitory nature, but more of a deep-seated joy rooted in eternal things, as I have been taken for but a few short walks of late, which can only mean that my loving mistress has been feeling rather ill. Still there is the indescribable joy in the house. Perhaps a clue to that joy is the inexplicable presence of large pumpkins in the living room. I see them with my eyes, and this morning I ventured to smell them. I have used both my eyes and ears to see my mistress printing out directions to far off and exotic lands, and I've heard her on the phone making secret plans--a lot of them. With my sense of touch (which is part of the nervous system wherein the periferal nerves take sensory input to the brain and spinal cord via the sensory nerve branches), I have felt my sweet little mistress giving me a full body massage in which approximately half my hair fell to the floor. I also used my ears and my eyes to percieve that my toys on the carpet were in mortal danger because of the giant, sucking, vacuum monster; so I took them all out of doors to safety.
The M house seems to me to be never static or in a state of homeostasis, but always coming alive with many and quite varied sorts of activity.

October news and Bleak reviews

Yay, me!!! It is my birthday month, and I may add, the birthday month-even the same date-as that of Henry Winkler (Happy Days, Holes, and many more.) Also, I will have the opportunity this month of weilding my mad pumpkin-carving skills. I have two detailed drawings for my large decorative vegetable.
Most interesting about this month, though, may be the reading I am doing of Bleak House. Esther, a main character, has become disfigured by an illness, and is now finding how kindly and graciously people are responding to her despite her changed looks. This seems very apropos to me and to some of my best friends who have found ourselves altered in appearance due to illness. It scared me much to think how my friends may respond to my unusual symptoms, but I soon found that all my friends remained my friends. And, as a matter of chance (or a matter of God's sovereign will), my friendships actually deepened and became more lovely and intimate. Maybe it takes being forced to slow down and halt your frantic pace of life to really savor and nurture your true friendships.
One of the most respected writers I know once wrote, "Sometimes the greatest gifts are ones we never would have chosen." I am glad for the illness that I would not have chosen, but has made me appreciate what others take for granted-a cool afternoon breeze, a loving husband, friends who stop by to say hello and share a cup of tea, and the big, shimmering tree I see outside my window.