If you’ve been following state and federal mandates, you are one of the millions of people quarantined in their home.  Social Distancing—Remote Working—Online Learning—have become phrases within daily conversations.

Never again will we look at our homes the same.  From this point forward, new home purchases will be determined by a question “would this structure be a good quarantine location?”

My first NYC apartment was 600 square feet.  My living/dining/kitchen area were one long hallway.  I could sit on my sofa and change the channel with my foot.  Remote unnecessary.  It was an adventure.  A great starter 3 story walk up apartment.  I named it my, “compartment”.   I can’t imagine being in quarantine there.

Admit it — you’ve thought about the perfect place to quarantine.

No matter where you are living—hopefully you are quarantined to protect the greater good.

Quarantined.  A word equestrians use when importing a new prospect.  Whomever would have thought we would be using that word for the greater populous of humans in the world.

People are losing track of how many days they’ve been “locked down”.

Conversations are started with “Day # of the lock down and all’s well.  How are you holding up?”

We are quickly learning why dog’s get bored in the house and tear up furniture.

Also, a dog doesn’t need 35 walks a day.  They too tire out.

People are having conversations with household appliances.  One even had a conference with the microwave and stove.

Someone mentioned they didn’t get an opinion from the washer because that thing puts a different spin on facts.

If you hear the door tell you, “you’re unhinged”—time to take a walk and get fresh air.

Since the fridge isn’t going to lock itself after your 10th ice cream trip— maybe try getting out of your jammies and into some workout clothes.  Get those endorphins flying.

People are virtual dating.  Virtual working.  Virtual shopping.  Virtual exercising.  Virtual living.  It is possible to live a full life and never exit your living space.  Who knew?

Others are dressing up to stay home.  Just to feel “normal”.

None of us can avoid this pandemic.  Some have been labeled a “germaphobe” because they want everyone to practice safe distancing and quarantine methods.  I don’t want to test nature and see if I can beat the virus when there are easy, common sense ways to avoid it.  If that makes me a dreaded “germaphobe” I’ll gladly take the title.

Germaphobes unite!

Those that say they don’t care aren’t educated or are misinformed.  No sane, prudent individual would carelessly run amuck not caring about getting infected or worse—whom they infect.  Those individuals should be forcibly quarantined.

One Midwest manager proudly posted a sign for those feeling ill to please stay home and “corn teen” yourself.  I’m hoping that misspell was a joke.

As we push through these interesting times, one thing is for sure.  Good humor—creative ways to stay busy—a sound mind—staying connected to people —are all necessary.

We will come out stronger—better equipped to handle whatever is thrown at us.

Stay healthy and quarantine!





There is only so much torture we can go through—the rest is just showing off.  My grandfather used to say that to me, typically after I had just been through something very difficult.  We are all going through difficult isolated times at the moment.  We have labeled it a pandemic. “Stay at Home” orders are in most states.  Again, there are different groups of people.  Those that are afraid to leave their homes in fear of exposing to the virus.  Another group are being cautious, yet still venturing out to find hiking trails they haven’t stepped on in years.  The last group, have no clue yet what quarantine or social distancing actually are.  Washing their hands properly is an anomaly.  Their thoughts are they will slap the virus in the face and whomever wins the battle is meant to be.  Those people need more than hand sanitizer.

No matter which of the groups you’re in—we are all in this together.

It’s in times like these we can ponder life.  We can make a situation as difficult or as simple as desired.  Kind of like fishing.  Think about it.  Fishing isn’t really about fishing.  It’s about letting things happen.  When you throw the line into the water, what happens next isn’t within your control.  You sit and wait.  The water treading against the boat, or the shoreline, whichever you happen to be.  The fisherman can sit in peace and enjoy the sounds of nature.  The calm nurturing their soul.  Or—people with no patience nor the ability to relax will stress out—become impatient—pull their line in and recast again and again all the while complaining about how bad the fishing is.  Their music blaring.  Stress emblazoning their bodies.  Until they no longer enjoy what fishing is all about.  Because in that moment of peaceful nature, we can either meditate in the calm.  Or we can push away the pain of our thoughts—and find something to fill the void until we are a ball of stress no longer able to bounce.

We are told that love is what life is all about.  Love is vulnerable—warm—sometimes painful.  A friend of mine was depressed the other day—she is single with no current prospects.  She’s jumped from one relationship to another—never spending time with herself.  Being by yourself isn’t “alone”.  Some of the loneliest people have been married for years.  We are individually capable of making ourselves happy or sad.  The people we choose to be create our sense of worth.  Afford us the ability to like ourselves—or criticize as well.  We are our most harsh critic.  What outside stimulus affects that is up to us.

So if it is love that unites us.  Walks us through the dark times.  Gives us the strength to push through to happiness again.  If it’s love that lifts us out of our darkness.  When people put their lies on you—attack you—try to take you out because of jealousy—hate—insecurity.  Remember to let the love from those around you carry you through.  Let it bring you back into the brightness of life.  The truth is, ignorance and hate hold hands.  They try to blind us.  Smother us with darkness.  They try to destroy the light of hope.  Take away what make us happy.  If we pay attention—drive the negative away—our love can consume the darkness and drive out the hate.  That love might not change everyone.  For their darkness runs too deep.  You might still run up against people who like their darkness, or have become so consumed they are blinded by it.  Their hate is all they know.  It’s what they survive on.

When we are exposed to that darkness and hate.  It’s in those moments we have to hold on to those that shine their light on us.  Fill us with love.  We have to hold on to those that give our life meaning—are there for us no matter the cost.  Because it’s that love that brings us hope.  If we live the truth—love completely—accept each other at who they truly are—then our lights will shine brightly and drive out all hate and darkness.

I’ve let darkness infect the great love of my life.  Let past experiences knee jerk my response to the darkness.  Let that darkness create suspicion —lies—tear what was genuine into shreds of doubt.  Only to awake to figure out it wasn’t the love that wasn’t pure—but the darkness trying to rip it apart.  If the past could be repeated—if mulligans were afforded in life—I would hold on to that love —hold on to the light from it—use it to push the darkness away.  My hope —that love remains and will find its way to shine  through again.  For true love never waivers.  It has peaks and valleys— but remains strong—and will always find its way to shine again.

Thoughts lead us to purpose.  When that purpose becomes strong enough—action takes over.  Actions form habits—which in time those habits build our character.  It’s that character that fixes our destiny.

A pessimist is one who makes difficulties of their opportunities and an optimist is one who makes opportunities of their difficulties.

In this time of uncertainty—find your purpose—let it move you to action.  We have control of our destiny as long as we don’t allow darkness to invade it.

Stay Healthy!


Someone asked me who has been the greatest influence in my life.  Every day of our lives we are evolving.  The question itself is very simple. The answer much more complicated.  The answer is fluid and can change in an instant.  Just when we think we know that greatest influence—Someone comes into our life unexpectedly and suddenly we see the world different.  A new lens replaces the world as we knew it.  That person teaches us it’s ok to let people in.  Start over.   You can go your whole life thinking you know the answer.  And then one day you realize your greatest Influence in your life might be someone else.  Sometimes the answer isn’t who influenced you the most but what.  Or a combination of both.

As a child, my grandmother taught me how to calm the storm.  Be it external or internal.  Negative influences taught me self protection.  How to compartmentalize instead of dealing with issues.  My horses—a quiet, yet powerful escape.  My dog—able to be with me anywhere I went.  I learned to protect the ones I cared about.

Society to us is nothing more than the grouping of humans surrounding us.  If we let them, they will define what is right —expected—successful.  Change the environment—society changes—expectations change.

Childhood idols who through a young eye seemed so strong—independent —wise.  Through the lens of an adult become weak—dependent—narcissistic.

People make assumptions like blood is loyal—trustworthy—kind.  When in reality it can be destructive —cruel—toxic.  From the inside of the box—the lens can be blind.

Anytime a situation resembled past dysfunction—I Immediately categorized it with the same  consequences and outcome as life had previously taught.  Whether you believe in your success—or whether you believe in your failure—either way you are correct.

When an incredible person comes into our life—they arrive with positives and negatives.  How we deal with each is important.

People come and go from our lives.  But only a handful truly make a difference in our future.  It’s impossible to chose one who influenced my life the most. It’s what they all taught me that matters.  Things like loyalty— trust— respect.  To feel the accomplishment of earning those is a gift of priceless value.  So if I had to pick the single greatest influence.  If I have to give an answer —it has to be my adoption.  Being adopted creates a sense of isolation—independence—strength.  There is no fall back on blood—you are who you become.   You set your goals—define them—accomplish —make new ones.  I worked hard until I managed to get a goal right—and then worked harder until I couldn’t get it wrong.

When the student is ready—the teacher arrives.

What we do with that knowledge—how we adapt our lens—is up to us.

Stay healthy!


Have you ever stopped to people watch?  If you haven’t, try it.  To watch human behavior is a dynamic so intriguing, it can make for great distractions during times of difficulty.  Society is in a state of panic at the moment.  Corona Virus AKA COVID-19 has consumed everything from news, media, internet and conversation.  In the hysteria of a respiratory illness, people are fighting over basic home goods such as toilet paper, cleaning supplies and paper towels.  How we went from a respiratory illness to stock piling 7500 rolls of toilet paper is an anomaly.  Walking into a supermarket is like stepping into an armageddon movie scene.  Everything that destroys the immune system — processed food, dairy, candy, soda are all baron shelves.  People have become so parsimonious they have caused a shortage.  Have no fear though—Broccoli, cauliflower, brussel sprouts, probiotics, oat milk or any other kind of health food item are of ample stock.  In other words, if it’s healthy—it’s on the shelves.  If it tears the body down—it’s gone.  It’s obvious few know how the immune system actually works.


Every day people have a new rationale for the virus.  How to avoid it.  What to do if you get it.  I’ve read everything from sitting in a hot tub, running a blow dryer at the hottest setting up your nose, to sitting in a sauna.  Some are saying to gargle with salt water and drink gallons of water in case you are exposed the virus will wash into your stomach and the acids will kill it.  Seriously?  The virus attaches to the mucous and goes into the lungs.  It is a respiratory illness.   Are people not aware they have a trachea and an esophagus?  Ever tried to inhale water?

It is humanly impossible to think and panic at the same time.


Some are focused on what businesses have been forced to shut down because groups of people congregating are now seen as careless ways to spread illness.  People are focusing on when the next official news conference will be.  Droves of people are working from home in an attempt to self quarantine.  There are three groups of people it seems.  The ones that are self quarantined in an attempt to keep infection down.  The other a group of “won’t happen to me, I’m healthy” moving about in a business as usual fashion.  Which group is correct?  Time will tell.  Those who are working remote have a far less chance of contracting anything.  Those moving about as normal will soon see how “normal” things are if they have been exposed to the virus.  The next 2-14 days could be an eye opener for them—maybe. Oh—let’s not forget the third group.  The ones who have gone into sheer panic because this IS the end of the world as we know it.  All of us will die.  No one will survive.
The people in that group need more than quarantine.


Can you imagine being a hypochondriac in this mess?


Introverts are ecstatic as they’ve been training to “self quarantine” most of their lives.

Parents have been catapulted into home schooling.  The only thing to say to that is, parents, “May the force be with you.”

People that can’t sit still are trying to go about business as usual, except most everything is closed or has shortened hours of operation.  So, they find themselves going to the market several times a day, just to analyze the empty shelves.


Some are posting memes in an effort to find humor.

FaceTime and Skype are on fire.

It is deemed the average person touches their face approximately 2000 times per day.  Say it isn’t so.  Don’t do it.  Don’t touch your face.

Others are calculating how many squares of toilet paper does one actually use per “go” in an effort to calm people down.  Whomever would have thought wealth would ever be defined by the stockpile of toilet paper one has.


People who can live off the land, hunt, grow their own food, fish and have an arsenal of weaponry to defend themselves have a heightened status in the world.  If only for a brief moment in time.


There are masks, gloves, homemade sanitizer, goggles, ear plugs and anything else people can think of to avoid the dreaded COVID-19.


“Wash your hands” has become common place to ask.  Shockingly, most people do not wash their hands regularly or correctly!  How did that happen?  Having soap merely touch your hand, slapping it against the other hand and rinsing is no longer acceptable.  We have all become evaluators of how hands are washed.  Wash your hands—correctly!  If nothing else, COVID-19 has renewed the importance of hygiene.


In other times I would say the best defense is to hold hands so as not to lose anyone.  In these times, touching anything or anyone has been deemed hazardous to one’s health.  Touching your face could be lethal, let alone another person.


Since we are all in this together, let’s let everyone important in our lives know how important they are.  Daily at least.  The world — life — can shift in an instant.  Be good with the last conversation you had with anyone, as it could be the last words you say to them.  A new day is never guaranteed.  Do not take it for granted.  Times like these should be a reminder of how fragile life is.  Hysteria isn’t needed.


Let’s all remember to think of others before ourselves.  Continue to look both ways before crossing the street.  Be humble.  Be calm.  Relax on panic stockpiling.  And don’t forget anyone.


To quote Ellen Degeneres—“Be kind to one another”


Stay Healthy!






Everyone has days where stress is at its maximum.  The kind of day whereby the moment we awake, the world is compressing around us.  Yesterday, was that kind of day for me.  My first text came in at 5:45am, from one of my associates.   She didn’t feel well enough to head into the office.  The flu bug had struck again.  We were officially short staffed.  It was a Friday, so all would be well.  How does one have a bad Friday, right?

On the other hand, it’s January.  Like everyone else, I’ve made new goals for the year.  One of which is to drink more water.  I lug huge bottles of water with me everywhere to remind me to drink.  This will become more prevalent in a moment.

As the morning progressed from one phone call, conference call, question and issue to another.  My Friday quickly resembled that of a Monday.   I took each call with detail, reminding myself of my hydration goal as I went.  Gulping down water when I could.

At the end of every call, my body reminding me of nature.  My brain however, kept me on point—focused—solving problems.  The advice of “listen to your body” forgotten in the Monotony.

In the middle of the mayhem, my text chimed.  I had forgotten about a meeting, offsite.  I ended my call, grabbed my briefcase and rushed out the door.  Cell phones have made it easy to be in two places at one time.  I called into the meeting, while explaining I was in route.

The elevator wasn’t an option as I would lose the call, so down the stairs I flew.   My body screaming at me that nature was calling from the massive water consumption of my morning.  Finally, the first floor lobby.  It is a carpeted hallway from the stairwell door to the main lobby.  At the main lobby the carpet connects to tile.   With the meeting in my ear—nature beating down on my body —and an urgency to get to the meeting—the small tent stating “slick floor” missed my line of sight.  My heel stepped off the carpet, onto the tile —my body flew up like Charlie Brown when Lucy would pull the football—hitting the floor with a “thud”.  It took a few seconds for my brain to register what had just happened.  There must have been a noise when I hit, because in my ear I could hear “ARE YOU OK?!”— “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”  As I collected myself to speak—I managed to get out “all is good.” While a scan of injuries ensued.  All body parts seemed to be in tact—all appendages unbroken—all was well.  Except—I felt this warm sensation on my slacks.  Was the floor still wet from the cleaning crew’s mop?  If only that were the case.  Remember nature beating down on my body?  Nature had taken control when my body hit the floor.

Embarrassed — I took a scan of the lobby.  For once in my life, no one was around.  Scooping myself up to my feet—I began to laugh.  What it must have looked like to see my body fly through the air—hit the ground—and then mortifyingly my bladder partly release.

I ran out of the lobby—drove home— showered—restarted my day and made it to the meeting.  All the while, laughing at myself!

In life, we must always remember to slow down enough to not only remember our goals, but listen to our bodies.  Especially when our bodies are screaming at us!

Even after an embarrassing moment—Hold your head high—and Strut!


Do you ever watch people in or around elevators?  There are many types of “elevator people”.  There are the “Tappers” who continually press the button thinking that will either cause the elevator doors to open or arrive faster.  Then there are those that aren’t versed in elevator etiquette and will walk onto an elevator, allowing the doors to close as others are attempting to enter.  There are those who walk onto an elevator while conversing on their mobile only to rant “ARE YOU THERE?!”—“HELLO?!” — as soon as the doors close.  As if phones ever work in a closed, moving elevator.  There are those who have intimate conversations with family or friends —conversations the innocent bystander can’t un-hear.

Today I encountered the “Stoppers”.  Those that arrive on their desired floor—step out of the elevator just clearing the doors—and stand there looking around as if to announce, “Yes! I’m here people! Look at me!”   This would be perfectly fine, except there are people attempting to enter said elevator or merely pass through and get past the elevator lobby.

Today, was a site to see.  While walking outside ready to enter the building— a woman tapped up next to me clearly in a nervous hurry—she sashayed by me stating, “I clearly drank too much at lunch!”  Translation—she needed the lady’s room—quickly!

Please allow me to digress.  To get to the lady’s room, one must pass through the elevator lobby and make two lefts.

As the nervous lady entered the building and approached the elevator lobby, she increased her speed.  I slowed my pace to give her plenty of room to run.  Unknowingly, this also gave me a front row view to what was about to transpire.

As nervous woman pranced up towards the elevators, the elevator in the middle opened and a female Stopper hopped out and stood strong.  She looked around in bewilderment as the nervous lady rammed in to her.  Both women hit the floor with a slap.  As they hit—the floor became wet—very wet—nervous woman’s bladder had lost.  She must have had gallons of liquid for lunch!

Two bodies slipping around in urine.  One mortified—one angry—the spectators not knowing what to do as anyone leaning in to help would have clearly slipped and gone down themself.  Finally, with much struggle, the two women crawled out of the puddle and onto a rug.  As they struggled to their feet—I couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman who didn’t make it to the lady’s room—whose bladder had given up as she flew to the floor.  She was mortified and “relieved” all at once.  She hurried off to avoid further embarrassment.

Sometimes in life it is important to step off the elevator —keep moving with a commanding presence—pay attention to our surroundings—and know where we are going.  Other times in life it is important to not stretch ourselves to a point our body is forced to take control.  For in the end—both could lead us to hit a surface we aren’t happy with.

Are you aware what a “UTV” is?  They are basically off road vehicles designed to take you up and down any terrain.

While on vacation, my friend and I decided to pull from our redneck roots and go on a private UTV tour of the island.  I’m not sure what my expectations were—maybe toodling down a dirt road, sliding tires and enjoying the day.  Pulling from the inner tomboy, always lurking inside of me.

Our guide arrived perky and excited to start the tour.  We climbed into a mini van skinned with advertisement for the tour business.  The seats covered in plastic, like my grandmothers sofa, to avoid dirt, grime and moisture.

We made our way through the residential area of the island.  Winding and turning from dirt road to paved.   It was a mini tour in itself, showing us the native’s neighborhoods.   Finally, pulling in to our destination—the UTV hangout.  This was no typical UTV tour business.  Instead, it was a haven for displaced animals.  The tour business was the income base for the refuge.  Immediately, I made friends with “Tiny”, a 160 pound South African Boerboel, also known as a South African Mastiff.  Tiny very much liked his puppy massage.  His paws nearly the size of my hands.

Soon we were off on our island adventure.  We were given a face mask to protect us from the dust so we could “breathe”.  Hmmm—

We took off bouncing out of the lot, our first road paved, then quickly darting off onto the dirt washboard.   Soon we were climbing up the hills, bouncing over rocks.  Views of the aqua colored ocean water brushing against the lava rock, quickly appeared.  It was amazing!

The dust was flying—rocks were bouncing beneath—along the path we hopped.

The UTV had a roof, however, no sides.  I could feel the sun beating down on my legs.  Would I get sunburned?  Didn’t matter—  the views were worth every ounce of burn, dust or sweat.

Several of the paths took us up deep rocked hills, causing us to slow down a bit to maneuver the rocks.  Bouncing back and forth as we ascended.  We passed numerous large guided groups.  Covered in dirt and grime—face masks hiding their identities.  It was funny to see how filthy they were, yet enjoying themselves.

We ended our adventure back at the animal refuge.  Covered in dust and sweat, smiling with enjoyment for we had seen parts of the island we never would have without a guide.

Sometimes in life, you have to get a little dirty to get to the adventure.  It’s worth every dust particle to enjoy the view!   Who knows—you could even meet a friendly face named “Tiny”!


Have you ever received a phone call from a hysterical person you could barely understand? Ever wonder what would happen if technology mixed with nature and went haywire?

I was sitting in my office, enjoying the silence, when my phone rang.  On the other end was a friend of mine resembling a drunken banshee.  It took a few moments to calm her down enough to speak clearly.  Once calm—she began to explain her morning.

Recently, she had adopted the most adorable puppy.  The perfect puppy, in her mind, as her fur baby recently had graduated from sleeping in a confined space to roaming the entire house.

Sometime in the night the perfect puppy had created a “land mine” somewhere in the house—the origin of the crime remains a mystery to this day.  By “land mine” we mean a poop pile.  My friend is adamant this is the first time ever her perfect puppy had created a land mine in the house.  “Maybe I forgot to let her out before bedtime”, she questioned.  Whatever the cause, one thing we know for sure —a land mine was created and deposited on the floor.  Why have I nicknamed it a “land mine” you ask?

My friend always has to have the latest and greatest in technology.  This includes a contraption called a Roomba.  For those of you unaware of what a Roomba is—it is a robotic vacuum programmed to run at a certain time every day.  This particular household the robot is  programmed to run in the middle of the night.  Remember the “land mine”?  The Roomba took a solid run right over it.  What followed was a mess of mass proportions!  And there is where it began—a pooptastrophe of mass proportions!

Those of you familiar with the Roomba know it runs over every square inch of flooring.  In this case, once it hit the land mine, it proceeded to spread the land mine over everything it touched.  Thus creating a layer of pooptistic proportions over the entire floor.

This layer was on floorboards, rugs, tile, wood, furniture, toys, shoes—anything the Roomba touched—layered with poop!  My friend’s Roomba pic resembled a mudder truck just after a heavy rain!

Apparently, the perfect puppy felt the Roomba was a toy as she proceeded to frolick around the house playing in the mess.  My friend awoke the next morning to a puppy on the bed covered in “mud” as she put it.  Unfortunately for her, it was far from mud and was now all over her bedding.  She stepped out of bed to a gritty surface on the floor and a smell that hit her in the head like a brick.

She immediately cleaned the puppy not realizing her home had been Roomba’d to a point of disaster!  Once the puppy was clean, she entered the rest of the house.  As the Roomba sat looking like a mud crusted truck in the entry—the rest of the house was encrusted.

As her mind processed what had happened—she grabbed her phone—ran from the house—and called me.  That is when I heard the banshee on the phone.  Her entire home was layered in poop.  The smell must have been horrific!

“Poop!”—“Everywhere!”—“Disaster!”—“Help!”—she kept repeating.  As she calmed down, she was able to explain the details of the pooptastrophe that occurred.

“What do I do now?” She exclaimed wildly.  “Call a restoration company and go to a hotel!” I suggested.  After all, isn’t that what they are for?

So as her home was disinfected by a hazmat team, she and the greatest puppy of all time, took a mini vacation at a hotel.  Minus the Roomba of course.  And thus ended the pooptastrophe of epic proportions.

Modern technology can be wonderful!  Puppies are amazing!  Together, they can create messes yet to be invented!  The moral you ask?  Never let your Roomba run over poop—or never let your puppy roam the house alone!

With the holiday quickly approaching, and the election a dim light in the rear view mirror, it’s baffling to me how the news have focused on “how to have a calm holiday” due to differing political opinions. Apparently, some people have such strong opinions they are cancelling their holiday with family members sharing opposing views. How is it politics can ruin a family? Could it be possible all of the happy, wonderfully blissful families pictured together smiling on Facebook are as much of a fallacy as a unicorn? Say it isn’t so!

Amidst all of the negativity in this country, it was good to see holidays are still the most traveled time of the year. As I arrived at the airport—-wrangled my luggage to the ticket agent—-schlepped my way through TSA and finally made it to my gate—-I fell deep into people watching—-one of my favorite past times at the airport—-do you ever wonder what some people are thinking when they put on stilettos the morning of travel? Do they think they will meet the man of their dreams smashed like sardines in a metal cylinder better known as a plane? What dream man would want us walking through an airport in stilettos anyway? I love my stilettos—-having rollerboard wheels scratch them up would be fatal! What good man would want that? I’ve digressed–

Back to my people watching—-as I watched everyone traipse by me….some dragging luggage behind them—-others with bags hanging on them—-I looked to my left and saw the most beautiful male face! He had just flown in from St Kitts. A 5 1/2 week old puppy being escorted to his new home in the US. His quiet face and soft brown eyes looking at me—-isn’t it amazing how animals look right into us? Who can keep any semblance of composure around a puppy? Of course I immediately had to hold him—-cuddle—-smell his amazing puppy breath! In that instant—-all negativity in the world diminished. What was left? A group of adults stripped into childhood —-adoring a puppy who had been homeless just days before—-now on his way to his new home in this wonderful country we have the luxury of living in!

If only the country could focus on what happened in the airport —-simple compassion. What we can learn from our canine companions—-unconditional acceptance—-calm silence—-warm hearts—-how wonderful this world would be. It only took one set of brown eyes to join everyone at the gate—-in that moment no one focused on holiday travel—-only the adorable puppy. holidays are all about what we are grateful for. In this moment—-I am grateful for a reminder of what matters in this world. Compassion—-warm heart—-genuine acceptance.

Now off to the ticket counter to rebook to St Kitts to find my own puppy!

Have you ever had one of those days where your balance and grace stayed in bed and what you’re walking around with is something between Lucille Ball and Steve Martin? Those days seem to be happening more often then lately. Considering the time and care my grandmother took to teach me poise and grace—-I envision her patient, yet frustrated expression every time one of those moments pops into my world. It’s at those times, I chuckle at myself and appreciate the memories.

On one of those awkward days, my friend and I were decorating my master bathroom. We have fun decorating together. She has an amazing eye—-I make a great grunt to position or hang where instructed to do so. The bathroom has a huge tub tucked in one corner with a chandelier perfectly positioned overhead. Probably not the best spot for a hanging electrical device—-but it looks good! The faucet positioned perfectly in the middle of the long side closest to the bathroom floor. My friend had found the perfect piece of art to hang on one of the walls next to the tub. Our mission — hang said art on the wall–and we commenced. With her eyeballing the wall from the middle of the room– my job– to climb into the tub—-measure the spot—-hold the art for perfect eyeball alignment—-nail the hanger in the wall and put the piece on it. Seems simple enough—-except when Lucille Ball and Steve Martin enter your body at the same time.

Remember the faucet I spoke of earlier? It is perfectly positioned—-unless you are climbing into the tub. As I swung my leg over the side, my knee tapped the faucet handle. Water began to fall. Already in forward motion, my foot dropped into the bottom of the tub. My first instinct was two fold—-shut the water off—-don’t get wet! However, my body apparently can not perform both functions at the same time. While in motion, I reached for the handle to shut off the water. This set in motion my body lunging forward. In an effort to not get wet and stop the forward motion I attempted a jump onto the ledge of the tub wall. This was a big fail. The motion flipped my body—-arms flailing—-legs up—-I hit the side of the tub and slid down — falling into the water–face up. To my surprise—-I had my very own indoor water park!

Stunned silence as I took inventory—-”Can I feel my arms—-yes! Can I feel my legs—-yes! Do I have fingers and toes wiggling—-yes! I’m good!” Looking up I noticed the stunned look on my friend’s face. It Informed me with certainty there should be injury. Luckily there wasn’t a single break. As my clothes soaked in the water—-boldly I exclaimed “I’m good!” while giving two thumbs up—- laughter filled the room. We were laughing so hard it was impossible for either to move.

Eventually we collected ourselves—-I crawled out of the tub with my clothes like a waterfall—-put dry clothes on—-and we continued our mission. The art was placed perfectly on the wall without incident.

In life, great-true friends are difficult to come by. Moments where you laugh from within your core so hard your eyes water and stomach hurts are rare. Mixing both together is a memory you will remember always.

Hanging the art isn’t what is important–it’s the memories created in the process that count!

Sometimes in life—-no shoes are required!