Kathy with a K

I have a fairly simple name. I used to say I have a common name until I found out I actually have an old lady name. When I thought about it, I realized I don't know anyone named Kathy who is under the age of around 45. I know a Kathleen and two Catherines, but they never, ever go by Cathy. Still, it was a common name when I was growing up, and it is a simple name.

And yet, simple as it is, I've spent my life answering the question, "Is that with a C or a K?" When I thought about it, I realized there are a number of supposedly simple names like that. I imagine people named Ann, Lynn, and maybe even Carol have always had to tell people whether or not there's an E on the end. Sara and Sarah of course have to tell you if you should add on that H.

Men aren't immune either. Is it Jon or John? And if you have a certain variant of John/Jon is it Sean or Shawn?

Kathy-with-a-K is what automatically comes out of my mouth as one word whenever I give my name to someone who is going to write it down. I'm sure Cathy-with-a-C, wherever she is, always has to do the same thing.

People often give their children unusual names or give unusual spellings to common names yet those us with a simple or common name still have to end up telling people how to spell it.

Name your child whatever name you like. Chances are he or she is going to have to always spell it for others anyway.

Oh, and in answer to that other question: "Are you a Katherine or a Kathleen?"

Kathleen

Thank you JK Rowling

I don't care much for the fantasy genre either in books or movies or tv shows, so when the first Harry Potter book came out it wasn't even on my radar. I didn't even know it existed it until a few years later when the movies started. Even then I wasn't interested, and since my son was still very young my disinterest didn't matter.

When Dennis was nine, his older brother and then-girlfriend (now our wonderful daughter-in-law) gave him the first book for Christmas. My husband was still reading aloud to Dennis every night and just because I wasn't interested that didn't mean they shouldn't enjoy the books. They were hooked from the first page.

Two years later they were still working their way through the books and loving them (okay, they didn't read every night). They even convinced me to watch some of the movies, and I reluctantly admitted I liked them. That year, I broke my ankle and was not allowed to put weight on the repaired ankle for six weeks. When I started to run out of reading material, I picked up the first book. Then I picked up the second one. And I was just as hooked as they were. We became a family of Harry Potter fans and even began listening to the audio book versions as we were spending a lot of time driving to and from activities in those days.

Our family fandom extends outward too - My stepson and his wife are big fans and we look forward to the day when we can start our grandsons on the books.

Thank you, JK Rowling.

Thank you JK, for the closeness my son and husband had while reading/being read all seven books over a period of two years.

Thank you JK, for holding the movie makers to a certain standard. Of course there were things that could have been done better, but without you there would have been even more of those.

Thank you JK, for letting Jim Dale read the U.S. versions of the audio books. We have listened at least 10 times over the years, and often come up with a new question or notice something we didn't in the past.

Thank you JK, for allowing Universal Studios Harry Potter World. We live less than an hour away, and often buy season passes to Universal just so we can go to Hogwarts (and now Diagon Alley).

Thank you JK, for all the Harry Potter parties we had with fellow fans, and even the Christmas at Hogwarts float our homeschool group entered in the Christmas parade one year.

Thank you JK, for Halloween Costumes and even plain old dress-up play.


The morning of Dennis' 17 birthday, after our usual good morning greetings, the following exchange took place:

Me: Happy Birthday!

Dennis: Thanks. I can use magic now.

Me: Huh?

Dennis: I'm 17. I can use magic outside of school now.

Thank you JK Rowling, for giving him the magical childhood and children's story he'll never outgrow.

I is for - I haven't a clue, I have no good ideas, I don't know what to post

Well, it looks like I hit my first wall in the 2016 A to Z Blogging Challenge. I've been racking* my brain since I decided to join the challenge, trying to think of topics for the difficult letters. Oh sure, there are plenty of great words that begin with I, but I don't have enough to say about any of them. Internet? Old news. Identity, Inner self, Inspiration, Introspection? I have absolutely no spiritual or philosophical bones in my body. Icebergs? Ice cream? My Irish and Italian heritage? That heritage by the way seems to have been lost on the next generation - the generation to which my son and my niece belong. I suppose that means our family has fully melted into the melting pot.

Nothing that starts with I interests me today.Which leaves me with no ideas. I don't know. I can't think of anything. I, I, I...I guess this post is all about me then. Or more accurately, it's all about I.


I expect to have pulled myself out of this when I get to other difficult (for me) letters. This A to Z Challenge is stretching me in good ways, but I'm giving myself the day off today with my I'm-stumped post.

*Yes, it's rack, not wrack.

H is for Happiness

If this post is published it means that so far I've made it through eight days of the 2016 Blogging from A to Z Challenge. Yay me!

Happiness. How do you define it? Is it an overall feeling? A day to day feeling? Is it about the big things or the little things? I believe the answer is all of the above, but I'm going to stick with the little things for this post.

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." ~ Robert Brault

So H is for Happiness, and 

• Happiness is the sound of pure joy in a child's laugh.
• Happiness is kissing the soft bottom of a baby's foot.
• Happiness is puppy breath.
• Happiness is a having a purring cat knead on you.
• Happiness is being with the people you love and the people who love you.
• Happiness is feeling the warm sun on your face.
• Happiness is the sound of ocean waves.
• Happiness is a cool drink of water on a hot day.
• Happiness is a hot drink on a cold day.
• Happiness is being curled up indoors with a good book while a thunderstorm rages outside.

There are so many things to complain about in today's world that complaining is much easier to do than finding things to be happy about. If you look for the good things you will find them. Big or little things; it doesn't matter. If you've been stressed out by negativity lately, why not take today to make your own Happiness is list?

Gardening, Green Thumbs, and the Green-Eyed Monster

G is for gardening, an activity with which I have a love-hate relationship.
Some years ago I decided to try my hand at growing vegetables. That's not easy for the backyard Florida gardener to do, since our soil is really just sand. Soil improvements and amendments are absolutely a requirement. My husband was excited about my new hobby and even rigged up a way to keep the critters out of my little garden area. Later he/we built an even bigger screened in area with raised beds.

I did everything by the book. Really. I had books on gardening in Florida, in Central Florida, vegetable gardening in my area, and so on. I read every web site I could find and garden blogs written by gardeners in my area. I read about the perfect soil and made the appropriate amendments. I faithfully pulled bugs off of my precious plants, watered regularly (but not too much), and got rid of weeds so they wouldn't steal the nutrients from the soil. What did I get for my efforts? In a span of 4 years I managed to grow a handful of cherry tomatoes, a few hot peppers, enough lettuce for one small salad, about half a dozen very small sweet potatoes, and a tiny bit of broccoli. One year I did manage to grow enough Seminole pumpkins to make our Thanksgiving pumpkin pie, but there was really very little for all of my efforts. I gave up, and my abandoned garden taunted me every time I looked out my kitchen window.

Fast forward to last fall (fall is our best growing season) when my husband decided to restart the garden. He did everything I did but somehow managed to produce a bumper crop. We had tomatoes all season, delicious crisp cucumbers. enough lettuce for weeks and weeks of salad...you get the picture.

Maybe there really is truth in the idea that some people have a green thumb. I really want to be jealous of him but I managed to tame the green-eyed monster due the fact that I benefit from his delicious backyard crops. He didn't have any better luck with bell peppers than I did; they're notoriously difficult to grow here. Other than that, everything he planted did well.

I do just fine with herbs, so he leaves me some room for my basil, parsley, cilantro, and green onions. All the rest has been turned over to him. I'll stick to planting and caring for native plants that attract birds and butterflies. He'll stick to planting what the humans eat.

Do you have a garden? Does it include edibles? Are you a natural with a green thumb or do you have to work hard at keeping your plants alive and getting them to thrive?

This post is part of the 2016 A to Z Blogging Challenge.

F is for Florida, My Florida

Today is the day we post using the letter F in the 2016 Blogging from A to Z Challenge. For the letter F I'd like to introduce you to My Florida,  Real Florida, the Florida I love so much.

My Florida is the one most tourists rarely see but that most Floridians wish they did. My Florida isn't filled with theme parks, condo-lined beaches or bizarre news stories beginning with the two words that make every normal Floridan cringe - "Florida man..."

So sit back and let me tell you about My Florida.

In My Florida, we do have seasons but you have to change your idea of what seasons look like.

Spring - Smell the citrus blossoms on a warm evening. The heady, heavy scent is a treat for the sense of smell.
Summer - Feel the awesome power of an approaching thunderstorm. Smell the rain that's on its way. Watch the steam rise from the ground when the rain ends. That's right, a summer shower does not cool the air.
Fall - Notice the bright pink and yellow colors of the Golden Rain Tree. Enjoy the deep red leaves of the Florida Red Maple. Feel the humidity start to drop. This is how you know fall is in the air.
Winter - Go out into your backyard on a crisp winter morning and pick some oranges to have for breakfast. Eat them as-is or squeeze them for fresh juice. Listen to the sound of the neighborhood children's happy voices on Christmas afternoon as they ride the bicycles they found by the Christmas tree. Perhaps your own children or grandchildren are among them. Perhaps you were once one of those Florida kids. Set up a bird feeder in your yard and enjoy birds from many parts of the northern U.S. and Canada as they settle in for the winter. These are the original "snowbirds".

Want to connect more with the real Florida?

• Go to the beach and lie on the sand. Listen to the powerful sound of the ocean. Feel the salt air on your skin.* Breathe it in.
• Go to the mangroves and observe the web of life running through its veins. Look at an old cypress tree and know that it was there a century ago or more. Think of the stories it can tell.
• Mountains are beautiful, but in Florida you can see for miles and miles. We even have our own prairies as beautiful as any you'll find elsewhere.

*As our adopted favorite son Jimmy Buffet says, "Salt air it ain't thin. It can stick right to your skin and make you feel fine."  ~ Tin Cup Chalice.

This is what My Florida looks like. I've included an obligatory alligator photo but notice the absence of theme parks, condos, and cruise ships.

E is for Exercise

Exercise. Something many Americans, including yours truly, don't get enough of on a regular basis. It's also among the most commonly made and the most commonly broken New Year's Resolutions.

I'm not a New Year's Resolutions kind of person. I make resolutions throughout the year when I feel I need to. A few days ago I made a resolution to start blogging again, and to help keep me accountable I signed up to participate in the 2016 Blogging A to Z Challenge.

Now that I plan to make an exercise resolution I need a way to be accountable for that as well. What better way than to use my restarted blogging to keep me honest? I'm announcing publicly that I plan to start this week, easing back into an exercise routine. With my back issues there are certain moves I cannot and should not do, so I'll start simple with exercises my doctor has cleared me for. I resolve to -

1. Do my physical therapy home exercises (for my back) every other day as prescribed.
2. Do stretching exercises each morning and evening.
3. Do a yoga DVD twice a week.

Not much, is it? That's good. Being too ambitious is often my downfall. If I start slowly I can add more. The biggest thing is to create a new habit.

I'll come back to this in two weeks and see how I've done. Off to do my exercises now...

Dingo and Dennis, A Love Story

There was once a six year old boy whose parents decided he should have a puppy he could grow up with. They each had that opportunity as children as did the man's older son, and they wanted this boy to also know what it's like to grow up with a puppy.  The boy, whose name was Dennis, already knew two family dogs but they were there before he was born, and by the time he was old enough to play with them they were both too old to play with him. A few years after the last one crossed the Rainbow Bridge Dennis' parents started looking into what kind of dog would be a good choice. They decided on a Shetland Sheepdog, found a reputable breeder about an hour from their home, and planned to bring the puppy home for Dennis' 7th birthday.

Now this was not a normal birthday or a normal year in Florida. This was the 2004 hurricane season. One hurricane, Charley, had already passed through the area and another was on its way. Still another came a few weeks later. That was the year the hurricanes stole Dennis' birthday party. However, getting a puppy made up for not having a birthday party.

The puppy was not a surprise, so Dennis was prepared. He had already decided to name his puppy Dingo. You see, Dennis was a huge fan of  The Crocodile Hunter and with his six/seven year old reasoning, Steve Irwin is from Australia and a dingo is an Australian dog, so he'll name his own dog Dingo.

On Wednesday September 1st, Dennis and his mom (full disclosure: she's the blog author :D ) drove to the breeder to pick out the puppy from the litter and bring him home. On Friday, September 3rd, Dennis turned 7 years old. On Saturday, September 4th, Hurricane Frances came barreling through. From the beginning Dingo was known as "our hurricane puppy".

Dingo knew he was a family dog, but he also figured out pretty quickly that he had his very own boy. Dennis and Dingo were inseparable from the start. When he was too young to be allowed to roam free, he slept in a cat carrier. He cried and cried until Dennis' parents figured out a way to stop him. They set the carrier (safely) on a chair facing Dennis' bed, so Dingo could see his boy. He stopped crying. As soon as he was old enough to be trusted not to hurt himself, he was allowed free at night. From that time on, he slept with Dennis in his bed. Dingo was a pillow hog.

As time went on, the puppy and the boy both grew up and older. Dingo and Dennis took dog obedience classes and though Dingo was the one who earned his Canine Good Citizen certificate, both learned a lot about dog obedience. When Dingo was 4 and Dennis was 11, Dennis thought it would be fun for them to do dog agility. They went to a weekly class at a nearby kennel, and Dennis became a Junior Handler with Canine Performance Events (CPE). They had so much fun together and continued even after Dingo officially moved into the Senior Dog category.

By the way, Dingo was a gorgeous dog but he didn't know it or act as though he was beautiful. He was just a goofy, sweet dog who loved his boy with all his heart.

As Dennis moved into the teen years he, like many teens, got busy with school and friends and activities. Still, he never left the house without saying goodbye to Dingo and he always greeted him when he came home. They still spent time together. When Dingo felt energetic enough to play, which was happening less and less, Dennis made time to play with him. When Dingo didn't have energy they just hung out together. Dingo still slept in the bed, but since he found jumping up too difficult, Dennis lifted him on to the bed every night, and gently set him on the floor each morning.

There comes that time that every pet owner dreads, when you know your pet is not going to be in this world much longer. In the fall of 2015 it was becoming clear that time was getting closer for Dingo. The vet gave him medicine to make him feel better, but there wasn't any medicine to make him get better. In February of 2016, the love story came to an end, as Dingo crossed the Rainbow Bridge with the help of his caring veterinarian and with Dennis by his side until the very end.

The End

As a mom, one of the most difficult things I had to do was watch my bigger than me 18 year old young man fall to pieces over the loss of his childhood dog. But I don't want to end this post on a sad note. When I mentioned to a friend how hard it was not only because I was missing Dingo, but because of how hard it hit Dennis. She sent a message that included the following words:

 "This? Is so so SO hard. The thing is... Dingo left Dennis with a gift he will carry with him his whole life: compassion, and the ability to love and look after  a creature put under under his care. This, in some way, is Dingo's legacy: he left behind a boy, a young man in pain, but who is a better person for it." 

D is for Dingo and Dennis and the 2016 Blogging A to Z Challenge

C is for Cat, Cute, Cuddly, Crookshanks

Hey there! If you just want to see a video of a kitten playing the guitar, scroll down to the end.

Also, I must apologize for the look as I continue to tweak the layout. If I tried to perfect it first I'd never get around to any posts.

And finally, I'm on target with the correct letter of the day in the 2016 Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

Crookshanks. A mouthful of a name for such a small, sweet girl. A more fitting name would be the stereotypical female cat name, Princess. What can I say? We're big time Harry Potter fans. When we decided to get another cat (Simba was the Lion King in our home at that time), my husband and then eleven year old son said if we got a male we'd name him Padfoot (yeah, yeah, I know. Padfoot is a dog/animagus/godfather/best friend/Order member) and if we chose a female her name would become Crookshanks (again, we know the real Crookshanks is a male). We didn't choose a cat. A cat chose us. Crookshanks was 4 months old when we adopted her from our local no-kill shelter. The shelter workers had named her Ruth. She picked us out as her new owners.

Crookshanks tried to become friends with the old guy Simba, but he would have nothing to do with her. Go away kid, ya bother me. Fortunately our dog was thrilled to get a new playmate. They became fast friends. Much to the disappointment of both my husband and son, she picked me as her favorite human. She loves to be petted, loves to be held, loves to sleep on your lap or your laptop.

This guy, called Timberweed by the shelter volunteers almost became Padfoot.

But Ruth, said, "Pick me!" And so she became Crookshanks.

One day about a week after she came home, we couldn't find her anywhere and were starting to panic. Did she get out somehow? Is she stuck somewhere? No, she found my crochet bag. Thus began her love of both yarn and bags, both of which continue to this day.

She is also a book lover. It doesn't matter if they're physical paper books or electronic books. She will cover the words so you have to notice her.

"Sunbeam, I love you so much!"

In 2012 our first grandson was born. Crookshanks gave him a kiss of approval.

Dingo was her buddy (Spoiler: He's going to be featured for the letter D). They shared a water bowl  and whichever one was drinking first, the other patiently waited for a turn.

Crookshanks. She was a rock star at 6 months old. She's still our rock star at almost 8 years old.

B is for Birds

Still catching up on the Blogging from A to Z posts.

B was going to be for Butterflies but if anyone went digging through this blog they would find I already did a butterfly post years ago. It feels like cheating. Since I'm already behind, words will be limited to labels and descriptions.  I hope you enjoy the photos of birds who have visited our backyard over the years.

Robins and Red-Winged Blackbirds. We see Robins twice a year, on their way to and from their winter home. Sadly, we haven't seen Red-Winged Blackbirds in years.

Our Bluejays were gone for a long time too, and only recently returned.

Young Mockingbirds (our state bird) in the Beautyberry Bush outside the kitchen window.

We can always count on Cardinals. They bring their young and show them all the best bird feeders and berry bushes.

Okay, not a backyard bird, but I had to include this one anyway. This is a beautiful, Threatened, Florida Scrub Jay.

The star of the post for the letter C. She is an indoor only cat, so the wildlife is safe. That doesn't stop her from staring longingly at our feathered friends.