Where To Next?

I can feel myself getting restless.

And only 3 months in this place.

Just learn how to be happy where you are some might say

I am happy where I am.

But not content, never content.

And that's not always a fun feeling.

They Only Kill Their Masters

I recently got a job at a breeding and training kennel called Family Dobes. It's tons of fun and I absolutely love it. I can't think of any job more enjoyable than playing with puppies all day :) Below is a copy of the blog post I wrote for the website. familydobes.com

I haven't been working at Family Dobes for too long, but I finally feel like I'm getting into the swing of things.Their personalities are becoming more clear to me and I'm just beginning to recognize whose bark belongs to who. I've been practicing my mothering skills on Medeia's puppies over the past few weeks and I almost feel like an empty nester now that so many of them are grown up (enough) and gone. But I do have Lavinia's impending litter to look forward to, (I'm sure she can't wait either) should be any day now.

Today was a pretty normal day excluding the fact that there was training going on in the front field which always induces widespread anxious/excited/pick-me-next barking. But we made it through with little to no trouble. The puppies that are left never fail to provide endless entertainment with their little adventures and quizzical looks when I talk to them in the baby voice I only use when no one's around. Zenny and Medeia continue to impress me with their good looks and one of these days I want to see Texa in action. She lives to work, there's no doubt about it.

These are pictures of Medeia, my favorite female (who's puppies are now almost all gone) and a couple of her sweet babies, and the fourth one is Lavina who's puppies are due today!

I'm Feeling Free

There are mornings, as I lay in my perfectly cozy bed in my tiny basement room, when the inspiring realization sinks into me that this is my life. My very own. I can make it whatever I choose.

There needn't be a preconceived notion that my life should follow the tracks laid before me.

I have the skills, and am fully able to pave my own way. New roads, undiscovered scenery, small towns, big cities, all waiting for some new life to discover them.

Just because I was born and raised on the west coast doesn't mean I can't make a home in the east.

I have a short time that was allotted to me, and wouldn't it be such a shame to waste even one of those days?

Every day we must live our lives as the people we hope to be. Simply surviving each day won't help us along our way. And I am deeply grateful that I have been given the opportunities and the good fortune to be able to choose the life I wish to lead.

We have been given so many opportunities in this world, so many different ways to become great people, I want to go out and find the best place for me.

Beautiful Days

It was a softly warm day, and the smooth fabric of her pale yellow sun dress felt cool against her skin. Her bare feet squishing into the luxurious carpet as she moved towards the piano.

This old piano, with the dark wood and gold lettering. Worn ivory keys yellowing from age.

This piano she had filled with her hope, her future, her sorrow, frustration, and even anger.

Her love and passion.

She remembered the tears she'd dropped on the keys as she played, her fingers brushing them away as the beautiful melodies strung along behind her.

Each feeling passing through her delicate fingers into the keys of this old piano.

She sat down on the familiar bench. She'd spent hours on this bench, it had been given to her by an old piano teacher in exchange for walking the woman's dog.

She gently placed her fingertips on the worn keys.

It had been years since she'd seen this piano.

Years since she'd even made music.

But her beautiful hands remembered, and she began to play.

Quiet and hesitantly she began to play.

It was intoxicating

Each note filled the room, one after the other and she began to forget.

Forget the cumulative hours she sat stubbornly in front of this piano refusing to practice another minute. She began to forget the words of her parents about how she was wasting her talent, and all the times she'd lied about her practice hours to her teacher.

She forgot all those nights when she wasn't allowed to go to high school football games or the movies because she hadn't practiced that day. And as she played she began to remember.

Remember why she loved the piano and why she started playing in the first place.

She remembered how she loved the way the music flowed through her, and what it felt like to create something beautiful.

Her fingers and wrists settled in and relished the familiar movement.

This bench and this piano felt more like home than any of the many houses she'd grown up in.

Throughout her turbulent life, this piano remained.

And she loved it.

And even still, the flowing melody of piano music stirs in her soul a sweet longing for days past, and a new hope for days still to come.