Celebrating the right way

As I mentioned, March 1st was my 37th birthday.  Most of the time, my birthdays are a little "lack-luster".  I generally get a "Happy Birthday" or two here and there, but there usually isn't much celebrating to be had.  This year was different.

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Wednesday, the day before my birthday, BFF, her daughter and her boyfriend, took us out to lunch to celebrate.  They took us to somewhere we'd never been, a restaurant called Ramano's Macaroni Grill.  I had the Lobster Ravioli and now I'm on a quest to find a recipe for it.  Man-Hide swears we will find one, and that he'll make it for me, but so far, none of the recipes I've found sound quite like the real thing.

I'm not kidding about how good this dish was!  Let's put it this way, I'm sure you've heard of the Food Network Show, "The Best Thing I Ever Ate" where all the famous chefs get on there and talk about the best dish they've ever eaten and where they got it from, right?  Well, if I was a famous foodie on that show, that would totally be my pick.  It was fantastic!

They also bought me a cake with my name on it.  I had a blast and I will love BFF for forever for trying to make my birthday special!

After that, we went to our 2nd orientation at the Humane Society.  We were expecting a large group of people again, like it was at the 1st one, but it ended up just being us and the lady doing the orientation.  With my social anxiety disorder, that was awesome!

I got a BIG birthday surprise while we were there, too.

At our first orientation, we were told that we'd be starting in March sometime, but last week, I saw on their Facebook page that they were having some trouble with their system and that the lady in charge of setting everyone's schedules had lost everyone's email address.  Per her request, I dutifully sent in ours.  Her response was to say she appreciated it, but unfortunately, everything was now behind because of this system crash.  She'd get me a schedule as soon as she could.  I was disappointed to say the least, but tried to take it in stride.

Since we were the only people to show up for the 2nd orientation, and the lady doing the schedules was there, we were given our schedules on the spot, and since we'd put Thursdays on our availability, we were penciled in for the very next day, Thursday, which just happened to also be my birthday!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Thursday, we were up and raring to go early and went and did a little of our weekly shopping and errands, then we were off to the Humane Society for our first official day as Volunteers.

When we first got there, in spite of the two orientations we'd been through, we were still a little disoriented.  We wanted to start with the Rescue Room, (which is where all the new animals go that are waiting for a clean bill of health from the vet tech, or behavior testing, or maybe just an open kennel on the floor.  This is a different room than the regular kennel area that the public sees.) but the kennel worker was cleaning their kennels, so we decided to wait.  We checked the Isolation room, but all the doggies in there were too young to be walked yet (and they have to be walked at the end of your shift with special leashes in a separate area so they don't get the other doggies sick), so we headed for the main kennels.

There was already a volunteer there that was letting the doggies out for free-play in the yard kennel by kennel, so we just kind of jumped in and started rotating kennels.  She would take one kennel resident out on a leash to the field and we would wait for her to get out of the gate, then we'd let the next kennel out for free-play.  When she would get ready to come back in, we'd leash our charges and get them back in the kennels so she could bring her charge through the yard.  (You have to keep dogs from different kennels separated because they might not get along.  Not all dogs at the Humane Society are necessarily good with other dogs.)

We did this until she left, then Man-Hide and I just started going kennel by kennel, taking them out to walk.

I walked one old girl named Emma.  She's a yellow lab, about 8 years old, arthritic and a little over-weight.  I bonded with her immediately.

As I walked behind her and watched her booty bounce with every step, I told her it looked like we had some things in common.  It was my birthday, after all, and I was feeling my age right about then (about an hour in to our session and I'd been chasing puppies all morning).  I could imagine our booties bouncing in unison as we walked around the field.

A little later, we finally made it to the Rescue Room, where I met the most adorable Boston Terrier named Angel.  Now, as you can guess, we have a passion for anything bulldog, and Bosties and Frenchies are both a breed of bull-dog, but they are small and manageable and, frankly, easier to get a place to live with.  When we get our own place, we fully intend to own one or the other.

Angel's paperwork listed her at about 8 years old (like Emma) but with a digestive problem that required a special diet (this is why she was still in the Rescue Room).  We took her out and enjoyed a nice walk around the field, just like with Emma, but Angel decided to take a break about half-way back to the fence, so we sat down with her in the grass and enjoyed the beautiful weather.

After about 10 or 15 minutes, one of the Adoption Counselors headed our way.  To begin with, I thought we'd done something wrong and they were coming after us, but as she neared, she said Angel's new family was there to pick her up!  She got adopted practically right out of my arms!

I'll be honest, I wasn't sure how I would handle dogs I bonded with getting adopted to someone other than me.  I was afraid I'd be sad and maybe even cry, but when we got there, we found out Georgia had been adopted and then Angel gets adopted practically from my arms.  I was thrilled for both of them!  Now I understand how people manage to work in shelters.  There is serious satisfaction in knowing one of "yours" found a home and that you made a really stressful time in their lives just a little bit better.

After we finished up at the shelter, we went up to Bald Rock.  For those that know me, this is a religious experience.  I find so much peace with myself and my life up there, and it was exactly what I needed after all the stress and drama I've been dealing with.  We even took some pictures while we were there, but I've been having a hard time getting around to getting them off of Man-Hide's phone (my battery goes dead the minute I think the word "camera").

All in all, it was an awesome birthday!  Truly one of my best yet!

Love, light and happiness...until next time!

Listen to the gypsy

Image by ♥♥♥Sand Creation♥♥♥ via Flickr

Everyone knows that today is Valentines Day, but not everyone knows that today also marks 16 years that I've been with my husband.  Our actual wedding anniversary isn't until April, but 16 years ago tonight, we began the journey of a lifetime.

It's been a long, and sometimes difficult, road, but we've managed to stay together somehow.

Looking back, I remember how our respective friends at the time warned us that we would never work.  We were too different, wanted different things.  The old saying that "opposites attract" never seemed to mean much to any of them.

Our "meeting" in December of the year before, was odd, and in a way, began before we ever laid eyes on each other.

After coming out of my 1st marriage, a friend who'd also recently separated from her husband, and I went to the local flea market.  Back then, there was a little gypsy lady that had a small camper that was there every weekend.  I'd seen her countless times, but never paid her much attention.

On this particular day, my friend suggested we get our "futures told".  It was all very fun and light-hearted at the time.

She said she wanted us to come in separately, so that our energies didn't mingle, or something of the sort.  Passing doubting glances between us, my friend went first.  We were both smiling as the door closed behind her on the camper.

Probably 15 or 20 minutes passed, and my friend emerged from the camper.  Her smile had been replaced by a look of shock and confusion.  She refused to tell me what had happened until after I'd had my turn.

I entered the gypsy's domain with much trepidation.

We sat at the little kitchen table, across from each other, as she looked into my eyes with an intensity that made me squirm, then she appeared to look all around me, at last she asked for my hand, palm-up.  After a few intense moments of staring at my hand, she abruptly released it and her gaze once again rested intently on mine.

Her words at the time, left me feeling confused.  She spoke of "the one I'd lost" not being meant for me.  That I'd gotten what I was intended to from that relationship and that although it would never be truly over, that it was in the past.

She then told me that the one that was meant for me, was still out there waiting, although he wasn't aware of it.  That I would have to travel to find him.

I was in the middle of a messy separation involving a child, I just couldn't, at that time, see me "traveling" anywhere.

She gave me a description of this man who was my destiny, including tall, with red hair and in a uniform.

My friend and I compared notes and discovered that much of both of our encounters had rung true, but there were some things she'd said to us both that just did not seem likely.  I dismissed it out of my mind and forgot about it for a little over a year.

We just never know what life will throw at us.  That day, I couldn't see how I could "travel" anywhere.  I had a small child to raise, a family here.  I just couldn't see it.

A little over a year later, the very foundation of my world had shifted beneath my feet and left me feeling as if I had nothing left.  The separation was final and my ex-husband had sued for, and won, custody of our daughter.  I went home from the courthouse in the deepest and darkest depression of my life.  Within days, I was in the grip of a complete nervous breakdown.

I was haunted day and night by memories of my daughter's laughter and footsteps ringing through the house. My grandfather found me regularly, in her room in the middle of the night, crying and clutching her toys and stuffed animals.  Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and packed up the house, made arrangements for my Grandfather, and went to stay with a friend's mother.

A few weeks later, I was on that friend's doorstep in another state, clutching a picture of my daughter to chest with tears streaming down my face.

After much tender care from my friends, I started to find my feet again and decided I needed a job.  I found one doing one of the only things I knew how to do, waiting tables.

I had been working for about 2 weeks and was at work early, getting the place ready to open, when I got the strangest sensation.  All the hairs on my arms and neck stood on end and my heart leaped to my throat.

I spun around to face the door and there stood a tall, red-head.....in an Army uniform.  My heart promptly plummeted to my stomach as I turned and flew into the back room.

In that brief moment that our eyes had locked across an empty room, something passed between us, and he'd known, too.

He was a regular already, worked there part-time, and had just returned from his 30 days out in the field, and he came regularly.  It became my habit to try to avoid him and his habit to pursue me relentlessly, to the point that he almost got me fired.

I finally agreed to go to breakfast with him with the clear intention of telling him all the reasons he didn't want to go out with me and running him off.  My efforts at way-laying him only made him more determined to have me and he hounded me like a dog worrying a bone.

I eventually gave in, almost 2 months later, and we began dating.  Before I knew it, he'd practically moved in with me.  A month later, he invited me to a picnic on post and introduced me as his fiancee.  We went and got a ring when we left that day.

In the end, the gypsy lady was right.  16 years later, I still wake up in his arms every morning and fall asleep in them every night.