So Not Easy Being Me in the Third

I'm trying to finish a book I'm writing with the fantastic Seattle based author Rudy Yuly. In the narrative we are writing in third person, which means instead of saying "me" or or "I", which is so ingrained in all of us when we talk about ourselves, I am being forced to say "she" or "Jude". I call myself "Stringfellow" when I think I've used my first name too often. This is not easy.

For the first few days I couldn't get it done at all. I forced myself to think outside of my own head and my own experiences to try and relive or visit the stories that I was telling the world. I tried to get inside my own head as it were, and tell the story from the point of view that would seem personal to the character in the book, but not necessarily so to myself, or the co-author. It helps that I'm not the only author of this book -- it helps that he's there and he's able to see things from a more pure and clean perspective when it comes to retelling a story that didn't actually take place in his life. It's like a dream for me. I'm trying to remember the events, but they don't seem all that real anymore.

When I go back over the things that have happened to me and to my family since we've had Faith it just seems like a bunch of made up stories - - like Forrest Gump or something. Oh wait, if it's Forrest Gump I may actually get a shot at Lt. Dan! Oh, how fun would that be? OK -- here's my dilemma, should I travel down this fantasy road for a while, or get back on the reality train and tell the blog as it was suppose to be? Oh, I hate it when I'm obedient. LOL

Back to the blog we go.

Authorship is a gift I believe. I know it can be learned, akin to playing the guitar, a piano, or even learning the basics in a game of baseball. If you are bent on writing you will write. Some of us are given a gift for it, and other work at it. Like me when I'm picking at my guitar - - I can't for the life of me remember the keys and I don't hold the chords correctly either. I love the instrument and I want to play it more than anything - not actually more than anything I suppose, because I'd rather write. I find that writing is a more natural event for me, and even if I don't have much to say I still talk. I still tell, and I still show off. If I were a classic guitarist like my good friend Edgar Cruz I would be strumming right now and you'd never be able to read what I write, but you could at least hear what I play.

Writing in the third is so hard for me. It's the equivalent of picking up that six-stringed instrument and trying to make it talk to me. Trying to make it tell me what I'm suppose to do to make it sing. I no longer write my fantasies or my dreams out in a journal before I key them into a computer. Times have changed and I have obeyed the times. However, being able to write and feeling comfortable with a new method are two completely different things. I like the challenge - - it makes me realize I'm a bit vulnerable; but at the same time I know I'll often slip right back into the woods I am familiar with and hide deeply beneath the foliage I have lived in and with all my life. My pen is my sword and I am not willing to lay it down just yet -- not when the fight is in me and the need to protect ME...well, her...if we're talking in the third.

I am the only me I could ever be. This remains constant. In every point of view.

20 Innings - - Are You Serious?

April 17, 2010 - - St. Louis, Mo! WOW...the Mets went to the Show-Me State and put on a show -- but it was matched. EQUALLY matched infact! The Mets went scoreless for 18 straight innings as did the Cardinals. Can you believe it? I turned on the television to hear the announcer say it was the bottom of the 19th, and I thought he was crazy!

Reuben and I sat down to watch the last 1.5 innings of a really interesting game. I tried to figure out how long that would take to play -- turns out it takes just under 7 hours. OMG - - 7 straight hours of playing baseball. I'm a Cubs fan, I would have probably stayed through the 20th, but to be honest if I was expecting to ride the bus home I would have had to count on my friends to take me home if I lived in Chicago. If we were at the opponent's home who knows - - we may have had a flight to catch, dinner plans, anything!

Laura is a Mets fan. She'll be thrilled to the outcome - - Oh, I didn't tell you. The Mets won the game in the 20th. It was the longest game in St. Louis history since 1974 and I believe I heard the announcer say the Mets had actually gone 25 innings before - - back in the 60's. Nope, it would not be an easy thing to sit through.

The two teams used 19 pitched. There were upward of 660 pitches, only 3 runs total as the Mets won 2 to 1, and the crowd had dwindled so far down that the only seats occupied were the first 10 rows. Of course those sitting up top came down during the mass exodus around the 12th inning - - I would.

So, that's the thrill of the day I guess for us - - we live a rather mundane life here at the Stringfellow house. LOL....and if you believe that, maybe you'll believe the Cubs can take the pennant this year! We'll see. We're only 10 games in and we're holding well so far! Go Chicago!!

Good Golly Miss Molly!!

Well -- Good Golly! He went and did it now! Reuben went to the Ardmore Animal Wellness Center and he adopted himself a best friend. Molly is a full blood Basset Hound and everything that implies. You can hear that girl howl from two city blocks away, but today she has something worth howling about - - it wasn’t always that way.  Molly is a rescue in every sense of the word. Thing is, we don’t know if Reuben rescued Molly, or if Molly rescued Reu. Maybe a little of both. 

 
Reuben had just come back from his first tour of duty overseas, and from the active part of the active duty he had signed up for with the regular Army.  He still had a bit of time left on his contract, but he was homebound at this point; and with Ardmore, Oklahoma having an Oklahoma National Guard base, he didn’t have to go too far to check in with the military folk. Reuben didn’t seem all that happy to be home though, and I could tell there was something in the back of his mind showing through his pretty green eyes – he had left a great part of him back in Alaska, at the duty station. I think she was his first real love; if I had to be honest with myself. I suggested to Reuben that he might want to volunteer at the animal shelter here in Ardmore, it may give him a bit of happiness to love all over kitties and puppies who were feeling trapped and a bit lonely. He could maybe even pick one out and bring it home if he had a mind to. We Stringfellows are not in the habit of limiting our animal intake; we can always add another one if there was a distinct and utter need; which it appeared there was one. 

 

My son took me up on my suggestion, but not to volunteer, just to go see what was out there at the shelter. You know, just go out and look, and see if anything popped out or stood out or jumped out at him.  You never really go to these sorts of places expecting to come home empty handed, do you? We don’t. You may, but we don’t. At least in the many years I’ve been alive it’s never happened.  We arrived just before noon, and checked in, washed our hands, put on visitor’s badges and made our way to the cages in the back where all the dogs were kept. Though Reuben is actually more of a cat person, he felt it was better to get something he could train, be a friend to both during the day, and something to sleep with. Cats tend to wander off and don’t always appreciate cuddling.  

 
We started out looking at the first few locked cages, each about four feet by four feet, maybe six feet tall, some had back doors so the dogs could share space, share food bowls if they needed to.  We went from side to side, front to back, just looking - - thinking. Reuben and I separated, he went to the right, I went to the left, and we just walked around quietly as the dogs barked and tried to vie for our attention, one at a time, most of them sat in the corners of their cages, laying on the hard concrete floors with super sad faces and forlorn looks; sometimes I hate these places and most of the time I love them because they do save lives. One of the reasons we volunteer so often at animal rescues is for that reason only; to bring joy or happiness to the animals, knowing full well that when they are happy, they bring it in spades back to us. 

 

I don’t know what kind of dog Reuben was messing with, but I found myself at the back of the intake cages watching a dog whose cage plate said her name was ROSIE.  According to the plate she was about 18 months old, that she had been a rescue from a local puppy mill just a few days back, she had been recently spayed, and she would need to be adopted by a family with other dogs because she loved attention from both humans and other animals. No problem there, if there’s one thing the Stringfellows are good at it is collecting both humans and animals. I called out to my son to have him come over to where I was; he wasn’t set on looking at a Basset Hound, but OK, he decided he could at least look, right? He was thinking about a Pit-Bull Lab mix male, but then again, he knew he would be moving out on his own soon and some places didn’t take bully breeds no matter how sweet they were. He saw Rosie, and he fell in love instantly. She took a solid 10 seconds before her heart was lost; she wasn’t sure if she should whimper at me or him for attention - - his squishy face must have appealed to her; she chose Reuben over me. 

 
Within a few minutes they were both in each other's arms and paws, rolling on the floor, laughing, hugging, kissing, and making life long decisions regarding their new bond. It was decided; Rosie was going to be a Stringfellow today, and her name would be changed to Molly because Reuben’s favorite actress at the time was Molly Ringwald; she was a red headed woman, the dog had red patches; it was decided. If the dog had a problem with it, she never said a word.   

Open Invitation To Take a Bath With Me.

If you're a dog and you live in my house it is apparently an open invitation to jump right on into the bath while I'm my most vulnerable. I know why I usually leave the doors closed now. With the kids away I thought I would leave the bathroom door open so I could hear the music from the living room drifting its way into my dimly lit bathroom...I was wrong.

First Teagan (a little yellow and white Jack Russell) decided she needed to drink the water -- it was hot and bubbly, but she didn't care. Her attention to the water caught King's attention - - he didn't hesitate or even leave skid marks, he just plopped right into the tub with me. Teagan followed.

King is a mix-breed St. Bernard/Dane and to be honest with you he's a bit clumsy too. Having him push and turn around in the water while I was trying to sit up to assist him was certainly worth a YouTube but there are some things just best left to the imagination. King really (and I mean really) wanted to take a bath.

I decided that since Teagan was so small she could be bathed faster and the sooner I got one of the dogs out of the bath tub the better -- that was my thought. As soon as I did manage to get Teagan out another dog made his way through the door. It was Yuki. He hadn't been in the room before - - unless he was being given a bath, so he was quite sure of what to do. He just leaned over the edge and joined us. Teagan proceeded to get away from me and then dry herself off on the sofas and when that wasn't sufficient she took off for my room to crawl and twist around on the comforter.

King sat down and kissed me squarely on the face. He wasn't in any hurry. It was almost as if he was saying "Go ahead, bathe Yuki, I can wait." So I scrubbed on the little Chihuahua-Dox for a while, found a towel, managed to get on my knees to get Yuki out and even dried him before he took off. Then came the fun one!

King just sat there with his back to me -- laughing. He was loving every single minute of it and the thought occurred to me that he may be part German Shepherd. My mom's dog Lady would kill to get into the water - even the garden hose was a source of joy to her. Who knows, a mix is a mix is a mix at this point. I haven't officially tested King's DNA -- I'm just sure he's a big 100+ pound dog with pretty long brown hair and bright big blue eyes. He's a ladies dog for sure.

After the tub was filled with dirt and hair I managed to climb out of it and dry both of us off...but the comforter still got used the second I released him. All those towels I washed and dried today - - getting it again tonight. I had to use 3 just to clean out the dirt and mess he left. Hey, at least my dogs are clean, right?

Matrix, the only dog NOT to get bathed was found on the bed too, but very safely under the blankets where he would be very difficult to grab or wrangle should I decide he needed to be cleaned. He lucked out...or I did, I don't know which!

Next time - - I close the door.

Almond Butter vs. Peanut Butter

Wow - - can you even compare the two? Let's see, orgasm v. "Well, that was nice." That seems to be an adequate comparison between the two. Let's go with that.

It hasn't been that long since I went to the health food store in Oklahoma City where I decided to buy as many good and healthy things as I could afford. I promised myself that I would not spend ungodly amounts of money on pills, vitamins, minerals and supplements - - all of which are readily available, but I also promised myself that I would try to find the right balance of good food at a reasonable price. Then it happened -- I found the almond butter.

Everyone knows that peanuts are really cheap and that almonds cost a bit more. I don't do anything roasted, toasted, sweetened or shelled so buying the natural nuts was at least that much cheaper buying them in bulk rather than in prepackaged cans with logos and labels. I probably warranted myself another 100 nuts just for being the frugal Scots girl that I am.

Almond butter just made sense to me. I buy almonds to munch on, I should at least try the butter too. I can spread a little less and make the small jar go further than maybe I would the cheaper peanut butter -- even the organic brand, and I could maybe, I don't know, by sparing the amount also spare some calories, some fat, and make myself feel a little better for doing it - - that was the argument I needed and you bet, I bought the expensive jar of almond butter. I will say this, I had a choice of 4 and I picked the least expensive one. (gotta keep a sane mind somehow)

Well, I know this: I won't be going back to peanut butter anytime soon. Why would I? The overall taste, texture, and aroma kicks peanut butter in the nuts. Oh, I so meant to say that...I really did! It was tacky, but I said it anyway. If I had to pick a perfect food other than raw honey or maybe black beans it would be almond butter. You can think of a few ways to use it if you get really creative. I haven't actually tried mixing the almond butter with the black beans yet, but I have put a bit of raw honey on the other piece of 12 grain bread and let me tell you - - it's, well it's, it's a party in your mouth is what it is.

Someone out there in the almond growing world deserves a big thank you -- and maybe even a hug. Let me know if you find them, I'd like to shake their hand. Oh, before you go, could you turn out the lights? I think I just had a vision of Spc. Agent Seely Booth on the edge of the knife I just used to spread the almond butter - - I can dream right?

Stepping Through Different Doors

I was sitting at the computer a minute ago eating my egg-omelet sandwich, when it occurred to me that I'm actually in the middle of a huge transition in my life. I'm going through different doors than I have been going through - - and I'm OK with that.

I'm backing off some of, if not all of the speaking engagements with Faith. I'm giving the stage over to Laura and over to Caity. I'm letting them have the fun of doing the shows, and the fun of handling a mischievious dog that does things on center stage when you least expect it. She will invarably walk off when she decides to and it may or may not be at the right moment in the speech! She just makes up her dogged little mind and does what she wants to do - - and that can be both challenging and unexpectedly humorous too. I've found out EXACTLY how witty and clever I can be when it happens! Faith is the source of many new thoughts and actions when I've been before a live audience. The girls need to experience that for themselves.

Before Faith and I hit the road I was a professor of English as well as a full time employed High School English teacher. I worked a great deal, studied, graded papers, taught people how to write and how to comprehend what they were reading. It was a great profession for me; I hated to give it up, but I did because I felt a calling. I had a mission and now that that mission has been met I am giving the reins of whatever it is that I've created to the next generation to create and develop it into whatever it is that they believe is best for the future of the mission with Faith.

That being said, I am still writing the definitive book on Faith. I am writing a series of children's books, and possibly creating a 501(c)3 non-profit wherein I may develop workbooks, and do workshops with kids to teach them about acceptance of themselves as well as others with special needs. It's a door that was opened by the work I've created with Faith, one I will be proud to be a part of. I am also embarking (no pun intended) on a sales and marketing position with a great dog food company - - Precise Pet Foods. Faith eats Precise Pet Food. It only stands to reason that if I were to become involved with selling or marketing a dog food product it would be the one she enjoys. It's another door she has opened - - well, Jesus opened it, but He used Faith to nudge the hinges.

The past four years of being on the road with Faith have been rewarding. I can't imagine where I will begin when I start telling the stories in the final book - - it will be a wonderful journey through my heart, through love, through struggles and through grace. God has been so very wonderful to both of us - - but there is another set of doors opening right now for me and I do have to walk through them.

Keep your eyes open. Faith will not stop her mission; she's bound and determined to be the best U.S. Army Sgt Dog out there, to visit more soldiers, to kiss more kids, and to be the one dog everyone remembers forever and ever. I won't be too far behind the scenes watching - - afterall, my babies are out there in front now. I have to keep my momma eyes open for them.

To all who love Faith and her message: THANK YOU...she's not going away, she's really just making a change and change is good.