Narcissism

I'm in Baton Rouge to take my 95-year-old mother's car away from her. I feel like the meanest daughter on the planet. She's been crying since I got here, intermixed with fits of anger.She has a benign brain tumor, an aneurysm and she's banged up her 5-year-old ride at least 10 times. It's full of dents.  She says she's just going to go buy another car. Add in that she let her insurance lapse 3 years ago for about 6 months and now owes a $300 fine to the LA DMV and therefore, has no driver's license and you'll understand my concerns over my graying hair.

CH (looking in the mirror at my vast amounts of gray: Look at all my gray hair! YOU caused that! (I say to her, laughing.

Mom: Look at mine! It's solid white!

CH: Mine is from staying up all night worrying about YOU!

Mom: Mine too!

CH: Worrying about yourself?

Mom: Yep.

Siri-ously

You know, the next time I adopt a dog, one I things I'm going to do BEFORE deciding on a name, is talk-to-text the choices into my phone.  Why??? Because Siri is an idiot.

Case in point is my real life pal Otto Rotto over at RottRover. When ever we text, Siri slaughters his name. Luckily we all "speak" Siri...for the most part.

Allow me to translate that. I deliberately picked words I knew Siri would have issues with for that picture.

Can Otto come out and play? We could see if the Tujunga river is flowing or head over to La Canada (pronounced "la canYADA) and try out the Hahamongna ....

Siri has so many names for Otto... we have a running list of mishaps with his name. The freakiest one ever was Auto-erotica! Ewe!

Besides auto, Siri has called him automotive,  auto rocket, auto-rotation, autoroute, and...Oral... It's why I picture Siri as a hard of hearing woman who has had too much to drink.

She Giveth; She Taketh Away

Those of you who follow us on Facebook or Instagram probably know that I started "bed training" Macy a few weeks ago.

#proof of the FOUR in a row bed #cuddles I've gotten #briberyworks @chewy #cookies #treats ❤💕💜💓💛 my silly #pup #dogs #macyblue

That came to a grinding halt when, the day before my birthday, I picked up norovirus at school. Eight days later and I'm still not right in the gut! We had done zero days of bed training from the 1st of the month. I had a relapse at work this past Tuesday...found out I had made myself sicker by taking Imodium.  I spent the afternoon really ill and was so relieved when it was over around 8pm. We turned in early and I was so grateful for the sleep. Hard, stupid sleep. 

Suddenly my bed was moving! Living in earthquake country, I always try to steal a glance at the clock just to get a sense of time before we lose power. It was 10:54 and that was no earthquake! It was Macy Blue! Getting on my bed with NO cookies in sight! In the middle of the night!!!!!! 

I petted her a bit but was so exhausted... we both slept til 7:30 am! I was over joyed that she was still by my side come morning and we cuddled and lingered until I heard her tummy growling! 

I couldn't wait to call Mom and tell her I was certain we'd turned a corner. 

Cut to...

Wednesday afternoon, a sunny bedroom just down the hall. 

Since Macy Blue was so sweet to sleep all night with me, it clearly must be time to continue her training. Instead of putting nap treats in her bed, I placed them in her "bed lure" spots:  One on top of the stairs, one on the foot of the bed and three in her "spot." 

She gobbled them up, sniffed for more and... jumped down and curled up in her bed!

Sigh... Three steps forward... five steps back.

Warning for Shelter Dogs Looking for Homes

Hello good pups and peeps of Blogville! Macy Blue here with a serious warning for shelter pups looking for a good home.

I am imploring all shelters to start asking humans planning to adopt about what kind of work they expect from their pups! Take me, for example. Sure, I thought I was being adopted into a nice home but my momma is a slave driver!  There is a never ending amout of jobs I have to do!

In addition to reminding her to slow down and drink coffee, I have to remind her about walks and hikes and meal times. I don't think she would know when to go to sleep without me!  But that's not all!

Momma makes glass beads and it's my job to inspect them! Let's look at a typical endless day in the life of a bead inspector!

O.K. Momma, whadya make today??

Well this arrangement is a hot mess Momma! Really! How do you expect anyone to buy this crap set of lovely beads??/

And really?? I have to inspect all these??? What kinda super pup do you think I am??

You need to move that one off the edge of your fancy (NOT!) photo paper Momma!

This stupid seashell is her attempt at being Etsy fancy! BOL!!! Yeah Momma, that looks good! {Insert eye roll}

C'mon Momma! Aren't you done yet??? Geez! You take more pictures of beads than you do of me!

And Momma?? You're gonna haveta 'splain to me why witches need so many boobs... do they have litters too?? 

As you can see, I've clearly been adopted into slavery! Don't let this happen to you good pups! Save yourselves!!!

A Letter to My Dog

Dear Puppeh Blue....

I can never begin to fully express the joy you have brought back into my life!  I loved you from the moment I saw your sad eyes on the internet, the night before I met you.  I loved you even more when you reached out to me from your cell in doggie jail. And I loved you still more when you were so easy to train and showed such glee at our daily walks.

I know I've been a difficult momma for you. You clearly don't know what to make of me: I'm loud, I chase you, I throw myself on the floor and roll at your feet. I never punish you for being on the sofa I bought for doggie cuddles... that seems to blow your mind daily! But I'm learning... too much petting scares you. I try to get up and get away before you do but I'm old and my body hurts. I'm just not as fast as you. And I'm so sorry. I wish petting and loving and cuddling didn't scare you so.  I've heard some dogs can take years to figure that one out... And that's fine. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you.

I know the concept of forever home is not something you get....having lived three years of your life somewhere before finding yourself in doggie jail. Then adopted and returned within three days several different times. Let me just tell you softly (cause loud will scare you) and clearly... those people were idiots!!! I've had a number of special and amazing dogs... I like to think I have a knack for finding special and amazing dogs... And without diminishing the love I feel for those girls, I can honestly say, you top the list!!! I've never met a sweeter, more agreeable, eager to please pup than you Macy Blue.

And I have complete faith that one day, I'm going to look into those sweet brown eyes of yours and they won't be blue any more!

Love you always, Your crazy, forEVER Mom

This is a blog hop hosted by Murphy and Stanley, mayors of Blogville.

Meet Our Team

O.K. This was a stolen idea I saw on Facebook which featured shepherds. Nothing against shepherds but I really wanted one with rottens!

Naturally, I had to put the QBoE in charge with Otto as her assistant...Photo from last summer at the ponds from my collection of photos for the never ending "Stick 101" post!

Bit Tids February 2014

I've been bogged down with taxes and dealing with new job paperwork. Not too much blog worthy going on so, here's the latest Bit Tids from the Creekhiker.

Somebody's Got a Birthday Coming: 
Yep, Miss Mabel Lou, Queen Bitch of Everything will be 12 on Sunday. I'm dumbfounded. I've never been so lucky to have a super senior dog.  While there are signs that she's not in the best of health...her newest nickname is "Lumpy Lou" - I'm so blessed for every day we get together.  Daily, she is joyful, happy to see friends and energetic at several intervals. And always a drama queen! I'm trying not to see her failings and reminding myself that we're in the Bonus Round!

"I get such a headache when Mom works on the 'puter for too long! Doesn't she know it's time to creek??"

Times - They Are A Changin'

I got the new commercial production guide in the mail yesterday. This contains lists of every conceivable thing one might need to rent on the down and dirty fly of making a television commercial in Los Angeles. Last year's book is on the left; 2014 edition on the right.

I was immediately struck by the size difference. The new one is between 1/4 and 1/3 the size of last years. All sorts of things ran through my head about the state of production in Los Angeles. My mother takes great pride in telling me about all the productions going on near her house in Baton Rouge. But when I opened the new book, I was struck by the much thinner paper. That thing will never survive being tossed across a motorhome as many of my old books did.

The publisher offered up the explanation that "non-crucial" items such as Ice and Bus Rentals have been moved to the free website and taken out of the book.

Well, he's obviously never had to ice down a sidewalk that was melting crew members shoes on the fly or suddenly rent a bus when a company move became overly complicated. There's something about having all those contacts at my fingertips that was very comforting to me in production. I will miss the old, sturdy book chock-full of everything for sure.

My old 4+ pound book is on it's way to a film professor friend. I mail him my old books every year but I may be too embarrassed to bother next year.


Ding Dong! The, uh, nevermind................ She's Dead!

My father's wife died this week. I can't tell you the mix of emotions this brought up in me.

For those of you that have forgotten, I'm a love child. The result of an 18 year affair that I interrupted in year seven.  My father spent many nights and weekends with my mother and I and never once denied us or shunned us in the presence of anyone. I spent many nights with him in the home he shared with his wife and nosy child that I was... left certain of the separate lives they led.

And based on the account of many in the family - aunts, uncles, cousins - the marriage was never really a happy one, aside from the infidelity on both their parts. All of my father's siblings were told that the family business which supported them all would be dissolved if any of them were to divorce. My youngest uncle took pills and drank heavily when his wife threatened divorce, ending his life and saving the family business. Talk about pressure! My father grieved deeply over his brother until his own sudden death in 1975.

While my heart aches at the loss I know my siblings (the ones who deny my existence) must feel, I feel an odd relief that my own mother outlived her. While this woman never missed an opportunity to lash out at me or my mother since my father passed away, I have always behaved like the nice Southern Belle I was raised to be around her.

But now that she's gone, I feel invaded, slapped in the face, knowing that she is to be buried by my father and not by her first cousin she married after Daddy passed. That was my place to go and talk to him and I just hate knowing she might be listening.


SPELL IT!

When I discovered the above via Facebook at 8 pm... the only person I wanted was my mom. I hesitated, knowing it was just after 10 and she would have been asleep for hours by then. That lasted for about 10 seconds.

My mother is "purt near deaf" and is too cheap frugal to deal with hearing aids. We have hilarious conversations of misunderstanding several times a week, especially when she answers one of the ancient phones she owns and not one of the phones for the hard of hearing I have given her.

It went like this:

CH: Mother! Guess who died?
Mom: JEFF SMITH DIED???  (Jeff is her nephew she helped raise... the closest thing to a son my mother has! She was starting to cry!!!)

CH: NO MOM! GUESS who died?
Mom: JEFF??? NOOOO!

CH: NO, MOM!! I'm saying the word GUESS
Mom: SPELL IT!
CH: G - U - E - S - S
Mom: JEFF ... AND WHAT'S THE LAST NAME???

I realized that G became J and ESS sounded like EFF... My 90 year old mom was really upset now...

CH: NO MOM... LET'S START OVER! _____________________ IS DEAD!

My mom was quite relieved it was not her beloved nephew that had died.

Needed Reminder

They Had a Falling Out

I awoke this morning to find Mabel Lou all scrunched up by the pillows, giving Baby Lou the vast majority of the bed. I have no idea what happened during the night, but it seems they had a falling out. And Baby clearly won!

UPDATE 1/29/14: The girls apparently made up last night! I awoke at three am to Mabel and Baby wrestling! There was much kissing and cuddling when it was all over!

The Eyes of Love

Although her furs may be old and gray,

Pardon, I just don't see her that way.

No longer does she go run run run. 

Sunny naps are her idea of fun.

My confident pup loves friends and all.

Her ego dents when she takes a fall.

No longer the Alpha in her pack,

Lost her footing ending on her back.

Harder to brush off each trip and spill.

I see the steeliness of her will.

Yes she does grow older by the day.

Pardon, I just don't see her that way.

My eyes are blind by the love we've shared,

her companionship when no one cared.

More like me than I care to admit:

Stubborn, wild, loyal and full of wit.

The funniest dog I've ever met

She sure makes me happy, you can bet!

Still thinks she can catch a coyote - 

Must believe her own publicity!

Excited over treasures she finds,

"Horse d'oeuvres" on the trail will blow her mind!

Her swims are shorter, walks are slower.

Loves her bed for her eyes to lower.

No, no longer does she NEED to play.

Pardon, I just can't see her that way.

To me, she's forever shiny new.

My love, my friend, my girl through and through.

She's stuck by me; been my friend it's true.

Mabel will always be "Puppy Lou."

Pardon my blindness, colored by love.

It feels my pup was sent from above. 

I know the day will come when we part;

she will leave her footprints on my heart.

My senior dog with needs she makes known.

I get her a blankie of her own.

She disliked to be covered at night.

She grows cold before the morning's light.

You may see my old dog on the fray. 

But I will never see her that way.

You Were Warned, Mabel Lou!

Most Californians are unnerved by the sound of glass doors rattling. It often sets off an ingrained fear response leftover from some earthquake and invokes a flight or fight (mostly flight) emotion. The sound of mirrored closet doors rattling is frequently the first warning sound that something is geologically amiss. I can give myself the heebie jeebies simply looking for something to wear! I have to remind myself that it is ME making those sounds.

The worst is when the shower doors rattle. That primal fear wells up and is made worse by the knowledge that I am cold, wet and naked and therefore in no condition to run for my life lest I scare the life out of the hundreds of school children across the street! I HATE that sound.

And yet, I've heard it almost daily for weeks now. No, we aren't having earthquakes. But my senior dog is having issues. She used to happily sun bake while I showered. Or jump onto my bed and wait where she could see into the bathroom. Since getting on the bed on her own is no longer possible (yet she can do it when I'm NOT at home...), she started waiting on her dog bed... a mere tail and a half's length from my bathroom door. But a few weeks ago that all changed...

About two minutes into my shower, she "knocks" on my shower door. Repeatedly. Since it doesn't stop, my fear wells up and I hurriedly rinse my hair or the soap only to realize that NO, we are NOT having an earthquake. My senior dog is having a senior moment.

It's even worse if I bathe at night... she knocks and knocks and knocks until I open the shower door and pet her, reassure her. I leave the door cracked so that she can make sure this shower has not become some magic disappearing mommy device... and she will stick her dang head under the shower to be close to me!! OMD!

If I can calm her down, do you think she would take the mere three steps to her comfy doggie bed??? NO... she waits right outside the miniscule bathroom door.

Today, I told her, "If you intererupt my shower, I'm going to take a picture of you and tell Blogville what a big baby you are!"

Don't even get me started on how hard it is to take a dang iphone pic in the shower... why doesn't that thing have a trigger button??? But here's my proof. My rottenweiler is a big ole baby!

You were warned Mabel Lou....

Our Bitey Face Selvesvies

I hate having my photo taken. I have felt this way most of my life. But if there is one pic I want...it's one of me and Mabel Lou playing bitey face. Preferable taken from the back side of my head.  This is a hard selfie to take! These are my best attempts to date.

This one is a better pic of the back of the sofa than it is us... but note where Mabel's arm is:  It's around my neck...holding me down!

We often press our cheeks or foreheads together and "growl." Please know that I've lived with this dog since she was four months old and trust me when I say she is "laughing" when she growls at me. And vice versa. It is a game. It is our game and we both know the rules! It always ends in kisses and ear scritches.

Mabel decides when it's over. If I mistakenly think it's over and try to get up, I get forcibly pulled back down for more!

It's the end of our day and it's one of the happiest moments for both of us!

Irrational Fear

This is Mabel Lou in full on old dog freak out mode! She does this several times a day. What has freaked out my strong powerful rottweiler??? What could send her running across the bed from a sound sleep? Or make her come running to momma over and over again?

This, my friends, is a dog who has become terrified of her own farts! Mabel, like most mammals, has farted her whole life. I'm not talking about when she was a puppy and discovered her own farts smelled. Back then, she would get up, blowing her nose... sniff the air and back up. If  it was a really smelly one, she would leave the room!

These old dog farts aren't even smelly, but when they occur, she comes running to me. She will stand beneath my chair and beg for pets and cuddles. In bed, she will be getting up to run to me before the fart even erupts. I reassure her; tell her she's OK. That seems to appease her - until she farts again!

I don't know if it's more painful now that she is a canine senior or if she doesn't realize she's been farting her whole life! 

A few weeks ago, she went through horrible belching phase that also terrified her. She would belch and gag all night long. The whole bedroom smelled like puke even though nothing came up. I had her on antacids and decided to make a change to her diet. Instead of two evenly split meals, she gets a quarter cup more in the morning and quarter cup less at night. And just like that, the belching ended.

But there is nothing I can do about her farts... Have any of you had a sudden, irrational fear in your senior dogs???

The Temperamental Super Model

I take Mabel Lou out to a nice sunny spot with a lovely busy green backdrop and no poop in view for her review for  Mr. Chewy and Fromm's Four Nutritionals Grain-Free Lamb with Cranberry Recipe Dog Treats in yesterday's post. Naturally, she had other ideas! It went like this:

I ask her to sit in my perfect spot. She finds another...my left thigh:

She won't move... I can't get a nice product shot from this angle:

I beg and plead and get her up, ask her to sit again. She chooses...my right calf! OY!

I beg and plead some more, get her up and she plops down... not in front of the lovely green bushes but with the mucky pool in the background. And a tree coming out of her head. And there's some poop... I get up and scoop and settle back in. I place the product next to her and...she won't look at me:

The chew shots go OK because she was eating....

I then want a smiley or something...licky lips... to close. I call her. She looks left.

I call her. She looks down....

I call her. She looks right....

Finally, after much begging and torturing her with a lamb and cranberry cookie over the camera,  I get a licky lip and

A happy beauty shot!

I swear, photography is rough when your model is so demanding and wants to direct the shoot!

Creekhiker was not compensated in any way for this review. Mabel Lou was given a free bag of dog treats to eat - or not - by MrChewy.com

Going

It has happened to all of us who hike the mountains around here... sometimes nature calls and you can't hit the ignore button! And I'm not talking about the number one thing that comes to mind...no, it's the second. I was chatting with the hiking buddies not too long ago and explaining that a stomach bug had hit me, not once but twice (there's that #2 again!), within the span of thirty feet on the trail. Both times... I HAD to go!

Since we have a number of homeless that live along our favorite trails, not to mention golfers who won't take the time to find a toilet, we've all had unpleasant encounters out there as well. The most "city-fied" of my hiking buds asked me point blank where this happened so she could avoid it for a few weeks.

I explained that as a good girl scout, I buried the evidence and marked it with rocks and sticks. It wouldn't affect her hike. But this led to a flurry of questions:

HOW do you dig a hole when nature is calling that urgently?
 
I find a soft loamy or sandy place (ideally 200 feet from water) and quickly dig a trench with the heel of my shoe. I can dig a 6 - 8 inch deep trench in seconds!

What on earth do you use for toilet paper?

There's a tree with large heart shaped leaves all along our trails... four leaves make a decent t.p.

What are the rocks and sticks for? 

To make it harder for an animal to dig up. After burying the evidence, rocks are placed on top. A stick is placed in the middle of the rocks, straight up to make humans aware not to dig up a camp site there.

So if I find a pile a rocks with a stick straight up, I should avoid it?

Yes!

At that very moment, we wandered up onto the levy area and saw this:

Without missing a beat, my hiking buddy asked: I wonder what was large enough to need a pile of rocks that big?

Baby Lou Highlights from Louisiana

Many of you know we have a special stuffie that shares one of Mabel Lou's nicknames: Baby Lou. I thought I would share two of the cuter Baby Lou adventures from Louisiana.

When Mom had surgery, I expected to stay with her one night and that Mabel would spend one night with my brother in law and Bailey. It quickly became clear that I needed to be with Mom 24/7 for the full three nights and four days, thus making Mabel spend more time at her cousin's.

My brother in law drove Mabel to Mom's as soon as I got there. There were hugs and kisses and Mabel proceeded to sniff the house. The humans went into Mom's bedroom - where Mabel, Baby Lou and I sleep - to discuss the best placement of the new shower chair.

A few moments later Mabel entered, ignored us and leaped on the bed. She nosed around the covers and... found her Baby Lou and let out the biggest sigh of relief! I didn't send Baby with Mabel as I knew Bailey would not be nice to her! My girl was SO happy to see her Baby!!!

++++

The morning we were to fly home, I stripped our bed and started laundry. Mabel wandered in the bedroom to supervise the packing.

"Mabel, we have to pack Baby Lou! Go get her!!!"

Mabel goes to our bed. She sees it is stripped, so she sniffs the floor at the foot of the bed and comes to me, concern on her face.

I knew Baby was on the side of the bed. I walked over and said, "BABY!!! WHAT are you doing HERE??? We have to go home!!!"

Mabel went to Baby and picked her up. As my suitcases were in three different rooms, I was curious what was next. Mabel proceeded to the room where my carry on was and only then did she give me Baby Lou!



#######################
For the two of you are not familiar with the Baby Lou Game... Here's the back stories:

The Beginning

Baby Takes a Sunbake

Baby Is Lost

Baby Found

The Games We Play

Cottonwood

There are cotton wood trees on the perimeter of our hiking area. Amazingly, I'm not allergic to it. Year round, the seeds blow their billowy pods all over and they land on everything. Can you see how they settled in the Mulberry tree? See how fuzzy that center branch is?

Sometimes, it looks like a spider's web:

The thing I MOST wanted to show you guys when I posted this photo in May was the cottonwood blowing in the air. It's an almost magical feeling to be in the creek in the early morning or at twilight, sunrise peeking over Mt. Luken's or dropping behind the Santa Susana's. The air aglow with expectation, birds hunting, frogs croaking and a coyote howling in the distance. A slight breeze kisses your skin and then you notice them. The cottonwoods adrift, floating near and yon. It's as if a million tiny faeries are around you. It's a beautiful place to dream!

May Photos - Naughty Habit

This is Mabel on the sofa. Some part of me regrets I ever let her do this. For one thing, the sofa is nearly broken. It's starting to take on her "old dog" odor. But as a pup, every single time I went down the hall to the office, within minutes, she'd be up there. In spite of having NUMEROUS dog beds. I would drag her down and scold her over and over...and over.

Somehow this transitioned into her only getting up there when I was there. That's usually late at night when I give myself an hour or so of television / ipad time. Even if I stop working at midnight, Mabel will not go to bed without sofa cuddles!

On the other hand, I myself have become so accustomed to sofa cuddle time, the thought of not allowing her (or, dare I say it, any future dogs) on the sofa feels...wrong! It's like people who get a dog and leave them outside! Dogs are pack animals...they need to pack up to feel safe in the world. And isn't cuddling pack behavior? And seriously, I'm getting a little too old for floor cuddles!

So Different, So Alike

NOTE: This post keeps disappearing and rearranging photos... very odd! 

I often focus on how different my sister and I are; were. (That's so hard - the past tense.) As I was lying in bed, wide awake at 2 a.m. the other night, I started to wonder why Patsy loved me at all! We were just so opposite.

I adore this photo of us because I know exactly what I'm doing... playing with Patsy's long fingernails. 

I always felt like an ugly duckling next to her. She was thin and gorgeous, perfect hair, long nails. I never felt attractive for even a few seconds in my entire life. If there was a gathering of people, she wanted to be in the thick of if. I would rather be at home, alone. Crowds make me anxious.  Even small groups make me uncomfortable. I'm always analyzing motives. Patsy took people as they are.

One of the only photos we have of Patsy as a baby. Her father who never made any effort to see Patsy broke in and stole all her photos after our mother divorced him.

And maybe that's the key. She took me as I am with all the faults that are so self-evident to me and she embraced me.

But it's made me wonder if we were alike at all.

We both love animals. It's more obsessive with me...I will bend over backwards to make mine happy. She left the care and feeding and exercising of hers to her hubby. But it was petting her Bailey boy that found her 2nd tumor. He kept sniffing a particular spot that led to her doctors finding the cancer.  I know she always adored him for saving her life and giving her almost another decade!

Making ice cream in our aunt's driveway.

We often bonded over our disjointed relationships with our mother. We both tried to be good daughters, even though only one of us would be allowed to be in Mom's good graces at any given time. We could congratulate and console each other as our rank shifted in the quicksand of our Mom's love.

Ugly is a harsh word used by Southern mother's that has nothing to do with a child's appearance. It has to do with behavior and is used to infer that you've messed up or insulted someone. "You're so ugly when __________is around!"

My mother has told me I'm ugly my whole life. I was never the social butterfly my sister was. I would say hello when Mom had a friend over and, as soon as possible, head to my room or open a book. I always understood that my Mother's friends were there to visit her...they had no interest in me. Why did I need to hang around and participate in their conversation??? The fact that I didn't made ugly. Mother would scream and yell after her friends left, leaving me to wonder what exactly I had done wrong.

Some years ago, my mother called my sister ugly for not listening to Mother's driving directions. My sister cried for three days straight and for the first time in ages, stopped calling my mother every day. I would call Patsy and console her and finally admitted that I didn't get why she was so upset. I mean, I've been told how ugly I am often once a day since I was a small child. What's the big deal? It turns out, Mother had never called Patsy ugly, ever! And Patsy was so hurt. When she found out that this was commonplace to me, she cried even more, this time for me. It was one of those moments that made me so glad I have a sister to share this weird experience of growing up with the odd rules and volatile parent we both shared.

We both love being outdoors. We are both drawn to water, especially the ocean. We both love our cousins and fun we had at family outings.

We love going to the movies. I was always amazed at her "movie rules." It wasn't a movie if there wasn't a giant coke and popcorn involved. Me? I'd rather save the money to see another movie.

We both loved to laugh; at each other, at ourselves, at our crazy, practical joke loving family. There was lots of laughter.

Patsy always wanted a baby sister and she took the one she got with joy in her heart.

There is an old Indian proverb that goes, "I will pass this way again for I like myself when I'm with you."  That's what my sister did for me. She made it O.K. to just be.

The way we were...