Heading for Lilly's birthday

Can I actually have a granddaughter that will be one year old on Tuesday?
How did I get this old?
How did SHE get this old?
And so quickly, too.

We leave in the morning for Ohio. Taking along the puppy I am fostering for Triangle Sheltie Rescue. Victor says it's not a good time for us to keep a puppy, but heck, she's already here and we're dealing with the worst of it: housebreaking. She's pretty well crate trained, but my dogs have free run of the house (and thus I have pretty doggie-used carpeting), so she has a bit of trouble remembering to pee outside inside of on my throw rugs. I have never washed so many rugs in my life!

It's been 15 years since I have raised a puppy. And it's been 30 years since I had a baby in my house. It's different. Maybe serendipitous that both happened about the same time.

Lilly is such a happy little girl. Her smiles light up the world.

The puppy (whom we temporarily names Milli because she is so tiny like a millimeter or a millisecond) lights up other people's worlds. They adore how sweet she is when I take her out on a walk or to PetSmart.

A bit nervous about heading into my ex-husband's "territory." It was after we moved to Ohio (like two days after we moved!) that he asked for a divorce. It wasn't pretty. And it wasn't the first time he'd done it either. Yep, we got married and divorced twice. The second time worked. We found better matches elsewhere.

But when you have kids, divorce doesn't mean "I never want to see you again." For years we've given each other wide berth. But the first grandbaby ... well, all that crap disappears temporarily. At least I hope so.

When Gregory and Sarah got married four years ago in Hawaii, my ex was pretty emphatic about his dislike for me. I was puzzled. He doesn't even KNOW me anymore. It's been 20 years since we were together. People change. I did. Maybe he didn't. Who knows?

Anyway, I am sitting here letting my hair get back to its original color (OK I know I am not supposed to say that out loud) while the puppy sleeps and I catch up on a few blog posts.

Back on Wednesday - wish me luck with the puppy, the ex, the baby and the rest of the relatives!

Picking up Victor from Duke Hospital this morning - he needed IV antibiotics for his CF. He's a trooper.

Um...the battery was dead on the van today. Called AAA, got it charged, left it running to recharge. Forgot it for SIX HOURS. ADDiva moment!

Worked in am with my organizer Erica to clean GardenSpirit garage and voila! Started rearranging the INSIDE too. Ah, my distracted mind...

OK, making sure this ping.fm thing works -- thanks Tara M. for leading me out of the updating woods!

Obama and the revival of hope

I admit it - my cynicism about politics had reached a point
of disgust, even with my own party. So I hadn't paid much attention
to the Democratic Convention in Denver. We all knew the outcome.
It was all a bunch of hype to me. Especially coming on the heels of
the Summer Olympics - how could a political convention
compete with a $40 billion extravaganza?

But Victor had the TV tuned to CNN, so we stayed up to watch
Obama's historic acceptance speech.

For the first time in (literally) years, something stirred inside me.
Could it be ... hope?
It was hard to tell, the hinges were quite rusty on the door to that rare state of mind.

But it felt familiar somehow.
Yes, it might be ...
It WAS hope!

When Barack Obama finished his speech, I wished I
had been at the convention, packed like a sardine into a
stadium that was over capacity. I wished I had been in the presence
of the man who inspired in me the idealism I adopted in the 1960s.

The news has been so bad for so long. Oil wars.
Gas prices. Staggering debt to China. Food. Mortgages.
And my shame at the behavior from the White House has
forced my public patriotism underground. Even my normal
"Queen of Positivity" attitude has flagged lately.

But here in my own family room, a man of integrity (!)
and authenticity (!) and power moved me to tears.
A man from my own home state of Illinois - the
land of Lincoln, my childhood hero.

And so this morning, I know this is true:

We MUST elect this man president.
We MUST.

If he can rouse me from my jaded apathy, he
can lead our country to a place of respect again.
That respect will come not only from outside this country's borders.
I believe he can renew our nation's self respect -
something we lost along the way and need so desperately.

So - OK this is unfamiliar territory for me - I beg you
to do whatever is in your power to help elect this
man.

We need him.
I need him.
Hope is, as it turns out, a renewable resource.

NSR is the sweetest acronym I know

NSR.
Normal sinus rhythm.
It means Victor's heart is beating regularly. Slower. Normally.

And that makes my heart glad.

I've heard from many of you, wondering how my sweet Victor is doing these days. And I am happy - ecstatic actually - to report that he's actually ... better!

Bless his cardiologist who refused to give up on his theory that the entire cardiac weakness was the result of Victor's heart growing weary of beating reeeeeeeeally fast for a reeeeeeeeeally long time.

I was skeptical.

Now I'm a believer.

We're lucky that Miracle-Man suit still fits Victor to a T.

Whew.

I know this reprieve may have a limited life. Things might get worse. But why focus on THAT? I want to pay attention to the 98 percent of life that IS working. And there's a lot of positive stuff going on.

Thank you for your concern. Thank you for your prayers, your healing energy and your warm thoughts.

They helped. A lot.