This week’s photo challenge is “blue.” And although I haven’t been participating lately, I decided I couldn’t pass this one up when I went outside and saw these little blue wildflowers peeking at me from our woods.
I’m not sure what they are, but they remind me of Forget-Me-Nots, which would be very appropriate. Today is my sister Annie‘s birthday. She would have been 54 years old. She loved it when we lit the birthday candles on a cake and sang to her, or anyone else for that matter. I’ll not forget her.
In honor of Annie’s birthday, I’m doing a little book giveaway. If you would like to enter to win a signed copy of Dancing in Heaven, just visit my Facebook author page Christine M. Grote. There is a “like” button at the top. If you click it I will enter you in the Giveaway. If you have already liked my page, just leave me a message over there and I will add your name to the hat. I’ll be drawing a winner at the end of the month.
Honey was our first family dog and only dog besides Arthur, if you can fully consider Arthur a dog. Honey was beautiful. People complimented her everywhere we took her.
In the spring of 2001 we finally broke down and decided to get a dog when the kids were getting older, I was busy running them around, and our youngest son was going to be left home alone more and more. We thought a dog would add a sense of security and companionship to our home.
When I called a local vet about dog breeds, the receptionist said, “You might want to come in and look at a rescue puppy we have here.” So we went. Anna had always been intimidated by dogs since she had an unfortunate incident when she was young. But we thought a puppy wouldn’t be threatening. When we got to the vet’s and they took us to the outdoor run to show us Honey, Anna took a step back. And I was surprised myself. I was expecting a puppy. Honey, the name the staff had given her, looked like a full-grown dog to me. And she really was full-grown in size by then, but the vet estimated she was only about nine months old. One of their clients had found her lurking around the back of their yard by their shed. Later we found a couple of beebees imbedded in her back legs.
We were told Honey was given the name not only because of her color, but because of her disposition. With that kind of recommendation from experts, we knew we would be getting a sweet dog. We were right.
When she died eight years later, in the spring of 2009, from a spinal disc problem we were trying to treat, we were all devastated.
I regret she wasn’t able to be here with us in our new home where she would have had a large yard to roam, deer to watch, and plenty of squirrels to chase.
This shot might seem like a giant leap for this week’s photo challenge, but I can get there in one small step. Growing up with the space program in the 60s, I can’t hear the word “launch” without thinking of rockets blasting out of this atmosphere and headed towards the moon.
Yesterday was a day of waiting for me, although it had nothing to do with this picture. I waited to be able to take a drink of water in the morning as I waited to leave for the hospital. Then I waited to be called back to register for surgery. Then I waited to be called back for surgery prep. Then I waited for surgery. I think waiting for surgery is the worse part. I had laproscopic surgery to remove my gall bladder. It was a bit more complicated than normal and so Mark had to wait 2-1/2 hours instead of the expected 1 hour to hear I survived.
Now I’m waiting to get the drugs out of my system and become clear-headed again. If you don’t hear from me for a few days, you’ll know why.