Water

I'm sitting at a cafe with twenty minutes before having to pick up Orion from Kindy. So here I am poking the ridiculously small imaginary buttons on my phone. I have been feeling the need to say more about swimming. It's not just swimming. It's being suspended in large bodies of water that has always been so life giving to me. For most of the time in life, I feel as if I don't belong. Dont get me wrong, I am overall a happy positive person, but being honest, I often think that I wasn't made to be walking around on hard things, sitting on flat things, having to dodge, navigate, and interact with so many people on their own path, wishing I wasn't in their way. The noise, the expectations, the responsibility...the gravity: it was never meant for me. But when I step into the water, it is as if I am freed. It holds me, caresses me, converses with me and even argues with me. It loves me. The more I am in it, the more my muscles stretch out and all the tension and friction stored up in my body, moves out to my fingers and toes, and just dissipates and spreads evenly over the surface of the water, into an even nothingness. Water is so good. I have learned and grown to understand its nature. It personifies the full spectrum of emotion from day to day. And like any  proper human, I have learned to respect it's mood. Sometimes I stay out of its way. Most of the time it calls me, day and night. There have only been about two years of my life where I have not lived by the sea. Whenever my husband and I discuss moving to the country, I tell him if the place doesn't have an ocean, it doesn't exist for me. There is so much more I could write. But I have to go pick up my little boy. I believe that everyone should spend a bit more time in the water. Reverse the effects of gravity, and go back to the womb in the perfect expanse of water. Be free.

I Love You Miles

I feel like all I blog about anymore is our loss of pets. Thats pretty sad. I am even more sad to say that we lost or our good dog Miles. And when I say good, I really mean it. I feel that for a dog, the word "good" is the greatest compliment a master could give to his or her dog.

He was not always a good dog. In fact, as a puppy I found him to be incredibly obnoxious. He barked about everything. If he was tired, wanted us to cover him up with his blanket, wanted his jacket, needed do go to the bathroom, if we tied him up and went into a store, left him in the car, or he wasn't allowed to sit on the couch. He was so annoying. He used to jump on everyone, especially pregnant people. He stuck his nose up women's skirts, pooped in shoes, and pulled on the lead. He chewed up books, wicker baskets, his bed, and even the wall. And he used to stare at me all the time, no matter what I was doing. Sometimes he huffed at me, with his little lip folds flapping in and out while he whimpered in the most irritating way. Half the time I didn't know what he wanted. One time I counted his barks. In one minute he barked over 100 times. It was very stressful taking him to the dog beach because he was just so fast. In five seconds he could run to the other end of the beach. It would take me at least two minutes of running to catch up to him.

I once called my mom and complained about how crazy he was, and how he was driving me crazy. She said to me, that we didn't have to keep him if worse comes to worst. Her saying that really went right to my heart. I knew that we would never give Miles up. We made a commitment to him. He was a good natured dog and never showed signs of aggression. So as far as I was concerned, we had to make it work.

Her words really convicted me though. I started thinking about what I could do to have a better attitude toward him. One night I dreamed that Miles was actually a little boy. He was God's little boy and God had given him to me to look after. This was a very convicting dream. I know that dogs are not people. So don't worry, I am not that crazy. But I do really value the concept of stewardship. I believe that everything that is given to us is not actually ours, it is our Creator's. These things, everything, has been entrusted to us, and we are called to look after them. I believe we will be held accountable for how we look after this earth and all of it's living creatures. So I feel like God was asking me to change my attitude toward Miles, and love him despite his craziness.

So I loved him dearly, with all of my doggy loving heart. And as he grew older, he became the most amazing dog. He was always gentle and loving toward our children. He became my companion on my walks in the evening and had no problem sticking close by off lead, even when there were rabbits about. He was never aggressive and loved everyone he met.

He was also very intuitive. One afternoon when I was pregnant with Pearl, Miles and I started out on our walk. We got to the footpath and Miles refused to go any further. He just froze. I yanked on his leash, yelled at him, and even tried pushing him up the hill. But he just refused. So I gave up. A few minutes after we got back home, I had a severe asthma attack. I made it to the doctor in time and spent the afternoon on oxygen and went to the hospital that evening to have Pearl checked out. I have never had and asthma attack before. I like to think that Miles saved our lives.

Its really hard to say how much I loved him. I think back on all of those walks up in the hills and seeing him there next to me, looking up and prancing with glee as I tell him what a good dog he is. On the day that he died, I woke that morning from a dream I had of him. Light was pouring through and open door where he was standing, waiting for us. When he saw us coming, his skinny, whip like tail started going around in circles with joy. Then he did a big happy stretch filled with contentment. I feel like this dream was a gift from God. This was my last memory of Miles and I am so grateful that it was filled with so much peace and love.

Goodbye for now my good and lovely Miles.

Happy Hunting Lovely Madge

Yesterday we said goodbye to our lovely Madge. She went to her new owner and we know she will be well loved. This whole experience was very challenging and I hope to never have to rehome another dog in my life. There are a lot of reasons why we decided to rehome Madge. But when it comes down to it, we were not able to give her the attention, training, exercise, and stability that she needed for her to feel confident in herself. So we really believe it was the best decision for her. After contacting all the shelters that I knew of on the north island, running ads on several different websites, contacting random people, and coming up with the crazy plan to ship her to the U.S. where my sister and step mom offered to foster her until they found a home for her, I finally found the perfect person to take her. Through this experience I learned that dogs are bred for a purpose. There are dogs bred to be companions, to be comic relief, to run, and to work. Some dogs need jobs. If you don't give them one, then they will find one for themselves. They can become over protective, aggressive, neurotic, barky, gluttonous,and so on. Shortly after adopting Madge we learned that she is the kind of dog that people use in New Zealand for pig hunting. Mix whippet, retriever, and some kind of bull breed, and you have got yourself a good pig dog. After really thinking things through, we decided that a hunting dog would be the best life for her. There were so many qualities about her that in the context of being a house pet, were seen negatively. She loved to hunt. She caught rabbits and birds. She was very fast, and she was loyal to her family to a fault. I thought long and hard and realized that instead of punishing her for being who she was, why not allow someone to nurture and develop those qualities into something great. I am not a hunter. I don't like hunting and pigs are one of my favorite animals. But I love my dog, and I know she would live a much more fulfilled and happy life if she could do what she was made to do. So I began posting on some pig hunting pages. As it turned out, people really liked the look of her and several people were interested. I have never known a pig hunter, so this experience was a bit daunting. I even had someone private message me to tell me not to give my dog to someone who wanted her because he shoots his dogs for no good reason. So I would say I was a little bit in over my head. But I really believe God was in all of this because Hone is the one who stood out and caught me at just the perfect time. On the phone he seemed like an even tempered, calm person who sincerely loved dogs. He was disabled so he did not work, which meant he had lots time for his dogs. And that is exactly what I believe Madge needs that we have not been able to give her. So, yesterday Pearl, Orion, and I drove Madge up to Whangarei where we met Hone. I was so anxious about this experience because sometimes Madge can be weirded out about strange things. I worried that she might be afraid of his wheelchair. But actually it was a good thing. She didn't feel threatened by him because he was sitting down. So she walked right up to him, put her head down right on his lap and he began to pet her exactly how she liked to be pet. I was amazed. Madge loves us and usually only cares about her family. But she liked him immediately. He couldn't get over how beautiful she was. He kept thanking me and telling me that he would keep her forever. He was fixated on her and loved everything about her. I just couldn't believe it. Madge fell in love with him. Eventually she rolled over on to her back so he would pet her belly. I think that after having a baby and realizing that we could not give her what she needed, we lost our confidence with her. But Hone was very confident, and I believe Madge found security in that. It was amazing. I took a picture of the two of them together and look at it often. I know Madge is going to be totally and completely loved for who she is by this man, and he is going to give her everything she needs. In that, I feel a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders and I can say that I did right by Madge.

oops

Ooops. I never posted photos of the mural. This was two years ago!The mural is in two sections seperated by a gate. So Morgan stiched the image together.

A little news

I think sometimes making facebook announcements about big life events is kind of weird. It just feels so impersonal and unoriginal. Sometimes people may want to spy on you and see what you are up to. But they have no real relationship with you. So you're just out there blasting personal information about yourself that a lot of people don't really care about. But a blog can be good because the people who do care and know you can take a look for themselves if they are interested and find out what is going on in your life. So here is what is going on. We are having a baby boy who is due in about 5 weeks. His name is Orion. He is getting so big and our lovely midwife says he is, "locked and loaded." So come on Orion! The next biggest thing going on in our lives is that we are moving to a different part of New Zealand. We have lived in Wellington for six years and I am completely convinced that it is the most beautiful city in the world. I haven't seen too many of the world's cities, but from what I have seen, it is the loveliest. However, Morgan got a job at a little studio just about an hour north of Auckland in a little town called Snells Beach. And that is exactly what it is, a little town out in the country and on the coast. So far people have warned us that there isn't much to do up there. To me that sounds lovely. Let me tell you what there is to do. There are warm beaches with water that you can surf, snorkel and swim in. There is lots and lots of nature, mild winters, a donkey reserve, and...and... that is about all. Hee hee. We went up there to check it out and I really loved the feel of the place. With islands off the coast and warm, clean beaches, it just felt so peaceful. I am really looking forward to being close to a more hospitable ocean. I do love Wellington. But it can be a very harsh place due to its cold winters, and Antarctic Southerly storms that tear through and knock the wind out of you. So that is our life. We are planning on moving up there around mid April. Goodbye for now.

A Mural is coming.

Morgan's parents, Carol and Stephen are here visiting. Today they helped me clean the wall where my first public mural will be. It is a wall about 14 metres square located along the walkway to the Houghton Valley Community Hall and Playcentre. I have always loved that wall. My grandma had a dream that I painted a mural and told me about it not too long ago. It was as if I was meant to paint this wall. After asking the Progressive Association, Playcentre, and the Council if I could paint the wall, as well as having the paint donated, I was able to begin. Today was the big day. The wall is pretty rough and when we started scrubbing, it was amazing to see how much mould and dirt was caked onto the surface. Now it is light and bright, ready to be primed. I am thinking next Sunday I will see if any other people in the community would like to help with the priming.

Learning from Tobi

This should be my last post about Tobi. I was going to write her whole life story and all the memorable things that she has done. But it's too much writing. And I think I am making peace with losing her. I don't want to keep feeling sad by dragging it on. So I will write a little more about what she symbolized to me, and also a little about her death. As I had mentioned before, divorce has been a very hurtful thing in my life. I can't count all the divorces that have happened in my family on both hands. At the same time, I have always had a strong love and value for family. So when my family fell apart, I became reckless. I was not a partier, but rather a bit of a dare devil, at least for a girl. I think my parents thought I might have gone a little crazy. I know they worried about me, as well as everyone else. I would meet any challenge that arose. I jumped off 50 ft cliffs, surfed 12 foot waves on a longboard (it's only impressive because I wasn't a very good surfer), traveled through Nicaragua by myself and gave away all my money while doing so, traveled to Israel (again with no money), and quit college, vowing to never go back. I guess you could say I was testing God, yelling at him mostly. But I think he liked it actually, because no matter what I was doing I knew I was somehow safe. So when Tobi came along, it was like a big hand came down right in front of me and a loud thundering voice yelled, "stop!" So I did. Through caring for her, I learned how to reconcile and balance sensitivity with bravery. I was a tall, strong, water polo player that could bodyslam any of my brothers at the drop of a hat. But at the same time I was kind, gentle, and sensitive. Growing up I learned to believe that sensitivity was weakness, or contradictory to my more powerful characteristics. But Tobi was both and it was so beautiful. As I got to know her, in many ways I got to know myself. I learned to embrace all of me, rather than what others thought I should be. She also made me responsible. I had to learn how to take care of a very dependent little creature, which meant that I had to learn to take care of myself. So I went back to college and finished my degree. I learned interdependence, instead of independence as a way of life. This softened me up to the idea of marriage. It was so healing to be needed the way that Tobi needed me. I could go on and on about Tobi. But most of all, Tobi represented a promise. That day when I was crying with my good friend Yami, I believe that God heard me. I believe that God gave me Tobi as a promise that one day I would have a little family of my own. As Tobi grew older, she slowed down a great deal. We thought getting a second dog would be good for her. I believe it was, but because Miles was the most hyperactive, obnoxious, and out of control puppy that I have ever met, I think this also made Tobi grow old faster. Then when we moved to a house that had 67 steps leading up to it, and I had a baby, Tobi didn't get out nearly as much. Sometimes I have a lot of regret about how Tobi lived her last couple of years. But at the same time I think that if we did get her out more, she might have over exerted herself and died even sooner. So it was what it was. On Friday, Pearl and I took both dogs down to the park for a bit of a play. Tobi was so happy to be out. She jumped on her little balance board and people laughed and took pictures of her. Then we all began walking down a little hill. When I looked back, Tobi was lying down, breathing slowly and peacefully. I called her but she didn't respond. So I walked over to her. A neighbor came over and we knelt down and pet her. I knew that if her breathing didn't pick up, she wasn't going to make it. About a minute later, she stopped breathing...and she was gone. So it was very tragic, but at the same time beautiful. I felt like God was saying that he had fulfilled his promise to me and now I needed to move forward and embrace it. I have my beautiful little family. Now God wanted his dog back. I put Pearl in the backpack and carried Tobi up the hill. That evening we buried her above the house on a little hill looking out on the ocean. We planted a little succulent garden over her grave. I wanted it to look a little out of place, because thats how Tobi seemed most of the time. We have lived in New Zealand for four years and I have resisted calling it home because it is so far away. But I have known that this home for a long time. And now I really know, because Tobi will never leave this place. So it was good, but sad. I don't think I would have wanted her to go any other way. I just wasn't ready.