Sometimes I get to go to this place far, far away and play on a very big playground. The Mommy and Daddy people call it “The Reserve.” When I go there, I have to make a long trip in this very big dog with a huge mouth with round legs that holds my crate, the “goodie box” (that’s for another tale), and my bed. It also holds an awful lot of stuff for the Mommy person. I guess she needs more goodies than I do. All I know is that it has a VERY big mouth and needs a lot to eat. At first, I was scared of this dog, but now I know it usually takes me to great places, and it can run fast with those round legs.

When we get there, I get to jump in two very big bathtubs and even swim in those bathtubs. I like these bathtubs so much better than the one at home. The mommy person insists on putting this stinky white stuff on my fur when we’re at the small bathtub home, and it’s inside where I can’t see anyone or anything. But these bathtubs are

I have asked several people to critique my book. Unfortunately, only one person has accepted that challenge and done so. Most authors/writers would pay someone for this critique, but since I make no income from my writing, I hate to make the hubby pay for yet another one of my writing adventures.

I have pretty much exhausted the free types of services. Then I thought, “Why not allow my blog fans to have a whack at it?”

So, if you’re game, I will put out the introduction to my book in this post and then one brief chapter of the book in another post. What I need most is to know whether or not it makes any sense to you. If not, please be specific about what wasn’t clear, so that I can work on correcting that.

Also, would you even pay a couple of bucks to download such a book on your e-reader? If not, I need to either scrap this writing idea or work really hard to make it worth such an expenditure.

This week’s WOW is garniture. You know the rules: No looking up the word on your electronic device or in an actual paper dictionary. Submit your guess in a comment below this post.

Here are my guesses for what garniture could possibly mean:

garniture (ˈgär-ni-chər ) 1. an amount of garnisheed money 2. a piece of furniture that also can be a garnish on your salad (That’s flexible furniture, now!) 3. a caricature of Garth Brooks

I can’t wait to see your guess(es) below!

I think there was a dog at my human home before I got here. I thought maybe the dog was still here, but I have looked for that dog everywhere, using my best sniffing, and can’t find that food-stealing dog anywhere.

But here’s why I think she might still be here–When I’m not looking, my food disappears each night and doesn’t return until morning. So that dog has to be taking it when I’m asleep. I don’t know how that dog goes without sleep, but since my human mommy and daddy are asleep at the same time, I know it has to be that sneaky, daytime-sleeping dog.

I think the dog is a female because once in a while, the human mommy and daddy call me “Maizie.” And they get mad if I don’t answer to that name. I don’t know why they do that, but they usually apologize and call me Trinity or Trin and pet my head afterwards.

As a stoic Scot, tears are not considered “kosher.” (How’s that for mixed cultural references?!) I tend to abide by that idea. In my defense I have several reasons to do so:

1. I get migraines from a stuffed-up head. Even though I now have much better meds to prevent and deal with these headaches-on-steroids, my 50+ history of dealing with them has created a habit of not giving into anything that produces a stuffy head.
2. When I do cry, I’m the ugliest of criers. Probably because I do wait eons to cry, the actual act is much worse–because tears for everything that has ever caused frustration and pain usually converge into 1 enormous crying session. The result? A stuffed-up head–see # 1.
3. I’m a pastor’s kid. As the daughter of a pastor, I learned to pretend that I had it together. I am now so good at it that I consider this an asset. And, like their pastor parents, we PKs learn to be strong for others and only break down when we have no resources left.
4. Because of the ugly crier issue, I prefer to cry alone. This means that I often have to wait until I get home to let the crying commence. For a couple of decades even getting home wasn’t a remedy because I had to be wife and mom when I arrived home. After arriving home, I would often forget that a crying session might be in order due to these responsibilities.
5. I’m an American. We Americans believe in pulling ourselves up “with our bootstraps.” We’re fiercely independent and believe that tears are a sign of weakness. As Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own, “There’s no crying in baseball.” And apparently the only places were really allowed to cry are in hospitals, funeral homes and at weddings. Even at funerals and in hospitals we Yanks live with the possibility of being called a “sissy” for crying.
6. I grew up with two older brothers in the early 60s. Frequently, my teenage brothers wanted time to themselves, away from their demanding, whiny sister. I, on the other hand, just wanted to be a part of their “club.” If they denied me this privilege, I usually cried. They often responded with a denigrating tone, “Cry-baby!” This taught me that crying was not okay.

Love Bunny

I wouldn’t exactly say that the hubby and I are poster children for a great marriage. We, like most married for 35+ years, have had our share of arguments and moments where we wondered if calling the divorce attorney was the next best move for us.

But, as the hubby says, “No one else would put up with me and I don’t want HIV/AIDS.” The same could be said of me.

So, what do you do when your marriage has its ups and downs?

My answer is silliness. Yes, silliness.

If a couple can maintain a sense of humor and playfulness in the midst of all the serious things they must address, then the marriage can probably make it to the “other side.”

How to be silly?

I think the best silliness comes from your creativity and works for you as a couple. But, let me suggest one crazy idea that just might make marriage fun again. The best part? It’s cheap and it doesn’t take a lot of time.

Hi. My name is, I guess, Trinity. Sometimes the human people call me Trin. I think I like it better than that Trinity. For one thing, the human people seem happier when they call me Trin and I’m all about the “happy.”

They started calling me Trinity when I went to my new home. It’s much bigger than my natural mom’s home and it has warmer floors. But there’s no big light keeping me warm and no Doggie Mom keeping me even warmer.

But, that’s okay. Because now…I get ALL the dog toys and ALL the chewies! I don’t have to share them with my brothers and sisters.

My Doggie Mom is called Ava. According to my human Mommy, I’m one of her last pups and I’m a full-blooded silver lab. I had blue eyes at birth, but now that I’m older, I have yellow eyes. My human Mommy says I’m a Pretty Girl (That seems to be one of my names, too.)

If I look brown in my picture, it’s because silver labs look different in different lights. I can look brown in dimmer light; silver in bright light and almost black at night. Because of that, my human Mommy makes me wear a reflective collar, so she can find me at night outside. I guess she’s really blind at night. (She doesn’t see that well in the daytime, either.)

I have grown a lot since I began staying with my human parents, so pretty soon, you’ll see an updated picture of me. I’ve had a lot of adventures since I came to my new home and I now have new puppy friends. And I have a lot of favorite play toys to tell you about. One of them is a roll of something the humans call toilet paper. The humans don’t seem very thrilled about this being a favorite. They are so silly.

Anyway, expect to hear from me again soon. After I have my 8th nap….today.

The nonprofit counseling center that I helped to start in 2015 is now in its 4th year! In fact Compassion Counseling Center is nearing the 4200 hour mark for number of sessions it has provided to our area citizens.

Unfortunately, there is still a gap in what our clients often can pay and what it costs us to provide an hour of therapy. We need a total of about $ 6000, bare minimum, to cover this gap for 2019. We have chosen to never turn a client away because of an inability to pay because we believe that changing mindsets for the better is the key to improving life in our communities.

This past Saturday the small church that hosts Compassion out of pure kindness, Oakdale United Methodist Church, also hosted a massive garage sale for Compassion.