Jaci Dawn

I need to change my  blog intro… Because this is also where I discuss Bigfoot.

Yes! Bigfoot has been sighted again! This time in North Carolina. Now, I’m a little peeved that all the news reporters are making fun of it, but if you can get past their guffaws… Well, let’s just say you should read the article and watch the video: North Carolina June 2010 Sighting.

I don’t know if that man really saw a Bigfoot or not, but I do know that’s one strange homemade coyote-calling device. Quite possibly, the Sasquatch in question was offended by the unharmonious sounds coming out of that device and decided to pay that self-proclaimed “mountain man” a visit.

Hard to believe the Sasquatch was chased off with a stick.

Hopefully, someone gets down there with a sack of plaster to look for foot prints. It’s the only way we’ll ever know if Tim Peeler is telling the truth or not.

Dang! Why did this man not go get his camera??!!

Photo #319/365   Rhododendron blooms after the bloom and after the rain.

I am giving myself permission to not complete the goal. I only have 46 more days to go to reach 365 days. A month and a half.

I also have company coming, weekends of hiking and camping coming up, and the addition of a four-legged two year old to my life.

I will continue to attempt to take a photo a day for the next 46 days, but I’m not going to beat myself up if I don’t do it. I’ve stuck it out this far and sometimes I’ve come up with some eye-catching photos (but most of the time, it’s been pretty mundane or I’ve resorted to photoshopping something). It won’t be the end of the world if I fail to reach this goal because this was somewhat of a contrived goal. A little challenge and I kept at it longer than most people I know who started out with the same challenge.

Truth is, I know that if life went forward uninterrupted, I could do it. But I foresee a lot of interruptions coming up in the very near future. So I have permission to fall short of the goal or to at least alter the goal a little. I’ll still carry my camera everywhere, but I am not going to try to post the photos every single day.

I know that the new addition to our family is very needy and he will take up a lot of my time over the next few days. I doubt I will get to the computer to upload the day’s photos every single day – and then blog about them. I’ll try, but if I don’t make it, I will combine several day’s worth of photos into one blog post and leave it at that.

It’s the same goal, just a different strategy. I’m giving myself permission to alter the strategy in order to reach the goal.

I can do this. 365 photos. Just maybe not posted every single day. But I am going to try.

(Why do I suddenly feel like the Little Engine That Could? I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…)

Why do I get the feeling that you, my readers, know I just talked myself out of quitting?

(<ahem> Because I just talked myself out of quitting.)

See you next post! With a photo for every day. I promise. I WILL do this.

I put the flag out on my way to work this morning and left it up for Donald to take down. That’s all I did for Flag Day (I think it is all you are supposed to do).

The other things I did today included working, playing a part in a miracle, worrying about dog names and purchasing things for said dog. It was not as busy a day as it might sound, but it was kind of spendy.

I suppose I should tell you about the part in a miracle, but it really wasn’t anything. I just made a decision based on someone else’s demeanor and I asked my superiors for permission to make that decision. And the affected person said (through tears), “It’s a miracle!” And I was left to contemplate my own role in helping a fellow human out who so obviously needed a hand up. I just listened to my heart.

We should all listen to our hearts.

Mentally, I spent most of the day ruminating over names. Before I go any further, I want to say that while I appreciate and “get” the reference to George, I have already eliminated it as a name. Sorry, Terry: the CFO of our company named a kitten George from the same cartoon. So George has been taken.

Lokai is in the running. Below is a list of names I’ve considered, including the ones I eliminated:

Lucky

Speckles (we had a cat named Speckos, so that is OUT). Likewise: Buddie and Jasper and Butchy. (Butchy was a dog, not a cat, but you get the picture. Former pet names cannot be used twice.) (I don’t know WHY. I just made up that rule, OK?)

Harpo

Bilbo or Frodo (but Gimli is out)

Charlie (but I probably shouldn’t because my mother-in-law’s cat was named Charlie and he just died a couple months ago. Scratch that: former pet name in my immediate sphere.)

I ran through place names, but there aren’t any good place names that represent places I like to be (or places I have been) that are also good dog names: Alvord? Ely? Reno? Boise? Baker? Hokkaido? No, no, no.

How about other animal names, like “Bear”? Well, I knew a Bear, but he was a scaredy-cat Chow-chow. And I don’t want a name that gives the dog permission to be ferocious. Elk? Coyote? Moose?

I may consider Moose.

A color is out and so is a candy bar. Hersheys, Blue, Snickers, Uno, Red… Did you know that all of the Irish Setters in Jim Kjelgaard’s Big Red youth series were named Red something? How original. (I read every one of those books at least three times. Along with “White Fang” and “Call of the Wild” (Buck) and all the Black Stallion, Golden Stallion and Flicka stories.) “Mutt” was the name of Farley Mowat’s “The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be” and that doesn’t fit, either. Scratch story book dog names (and horse names).

Stretch.

I tried actors, musicians, bands that I like. Somehow the dog is not a Led Zeppelin, George Strait, Jim Pipkin or Jackson Browne. Well, Jackson is nice, but I don’t want a dog with a name that resembles my own. My mother had a dog named Mr. Tack, affectionately known as “Tacky”. She would get mad and yell at all of us: “Terry! Jackie! Deni! Tacky!” Tacky was considered one of us kids. It was really awful when she forgot she was speaking to me and said, “Tacky, take out the garbage. Or Jackie. Whatever your name is.”

Tacky was a Schnauzer.

I think I have exhausted my favorite novels, actors, car models, animals, colors, shapes (Stripe is high on my list after the cartoon dog in the comic strip Tiger).

In other news, finding the dog was just a step. It is forcing Don’s hand to build the dog kennel we purchased over a year ago and still have not put up. We do have a fenced yard, but it is not secure (a dog could crawl under or possible jump over one section). I need a temporary dog run for the dog, so I purchased one tonight.

That was fun. I found one that I likes at one site for $64. Same one at another site for $62. The first one offered a wire mesh top (very wise idea) for $49. The other site offered the same top for $24. Hmmmm. I work in a mathematical field… So I went through the steps to order the cheaper one and all was good until I got to S&H page. EEEP: cheap site wanted $65 S&H for STANDARD shipping. I ordered through the pricier site & got 3-day shipping for $10 more than the cheap site & standard shipping. Does that make your head hurt?

I still won’t have a portable dog run until Friday & the dog comes home as soon as Wednesday… YAY. Any ideas???? I can’t take time off…

Now that I have bored you with my dog, I am going to say good night. And expect to hear more about the dog. I think I’m going to be overwhelmed…

A long and convoluted search for a pet of my own is drawing near to a close. Ever since Murphy came into our lives, my pets have gone out of our lives. I haven’t replaced the cat (which was actually Chrystal’s cat) because Murphy is not good with cats. He thinks cats are to be chased. I haven’t replaced the parakeets because I really can’t cuddle with a parakeet.

But I’ve been very lonely, especially since the grandsons moved back out. While they were here, they filled in for a pet. But now they’re gone and I have a hole in my life.

The logical fill is another dog. And that launched a weeks-long search of the greater Portland metro area for the right dog. There were several close calls, but no dog.

I was disheartened to find that in order to adopt a dog these days you have to fill out an application, have a vet who will vouch for you, and pay upwards of $200 for a mixed-breed dog that wasn’t worth fifty bucks at birth. If I wanted to spend hundreds of bucks, I’d look for a purebred.

But I opted to look for a rescue dog. PetFinder, Dog rescue, newspaper ads and the county pound. False starts, heart ache, internal drama and a somewhat dubious husband: “why do we need another dog? Where will it sleep? Where will it stay when you’re at work?”

I finally found a dog but I might need my head examined.

He’s another birddog and a purebred to boot. But it was pretty much love when I saw his photo on the dog pound’s site.

Then I met him in person. He was covered in his own urine and was nervously pacing, but he paused to tell me his life story in a series of rawr-rawr-rawrs. We even took Murphy to the pound to meet him and they completely ignored each other.

No, that’s good: two male dogs of equal height sniffed noses and butts and then proceeded to ignore each other. No posturing or growling to establish dominance, just “Hey.”

The English Setter is a year younger than Murphy and wanted to play a little. The only time Murphy growled was when the Setter got a bit rambunctious and it was only a short, “stop!” growl. So the Setter will be coming home to live with us as soon as he is neutered this week.

But he’s a birddog. All we’ve owned for the past 30 years have been birddogs. One mutt and two purebreds (soon to be three purebreds). The only thing the Setter lacks is papers because whoever lost him neglected to find him and they have his papers.

If you’ve never owned a birddog, let me tell you a little about them:

They are “hyper.” I mean really, really, really hyper. Some more than others and the English Setter is on the more than others half of that equation. They tend to be quite busy.

They are fiercely loyal but rarely mean.

Show dogs can be really stupid. Field dogs can be really stubborn. We’ve owned one of each. Which one the Setter is remains to be seen.

We will find out later this week.

Oh – I need a name for the new dog. Someone has already suggested Lokai (Low-ki) for the Star Trek “look alike” but I’m not sure yet. The pound has been calling him “Ollie” but he doesn’t respond to that name at all.

Ideas anyone?

When Arwen first inherited the autoharp, we did not have Internet access.

We took the autoharp to a piano tuner who told us that he thought it was warped and would never hold a tuning. But he attempted to tune it (for free) anyway. We didn’t know where to go to find out how one plays an autoharp, although I used to know a woman who did.

So the autoharp languished and Arwen forgot about it when she moved out and I have it displayed as an ornamental antique.

Flash forward fifteen years. Type “autoharp” into a search engine and over 5,000,000 results pop up. Everything from how to tune one to how to play one to videos of June Carter Cash playing her beloved autoharp. Maybe it is time I learned how to play the autoharp?

I used to take it down from the wall and let Zephan bang on it when he was still cruising furniture. He thought it was quite fun and I thought I should buy him a xylophone to take home. But I didn’t buy him a xylophone for which his parents are quite thankful. (Come to think of it, I think they bought him one.)

Think I can make sweet music with it?

Me, neither. But it was worth a thought.

Don: “What did you take a picture of?”

Me. “Water. I’m so sick and tired of water for a subject.”

(It is the grid on out portable greenhouse where our tomatoes & peppers are languishing as they await a warm dry spell… Maybe they’ll get planted this weekend?)

Tonight is Day 5 in the mysterious disappearance of 7-year old Kyron Horman. From the beginning, it has been a baffling case and with all the news media chiming in and speculating, it has been difficult to sort through the facts.

Here is what I have gleaned: Kyron went to school with his step-mother on Friday morning. They toured the science fair and he posed by his project on red-eyed tree frogs. At around 8:45, he announced he was going to class and his step mother left him.

When roll was called during his 10:00AM class, Kyron was absent. The school does not notify parents when children are absent. (I have two thoughts on that: 1. did they not take notes when Ashley Pond and Miranda Gaddis were murdered in 2002? and 2. when we received calls from North Clackamas School District that Chrystal had been absent, it was after 6PM and Chrystal had already informed us of her whereabouts. For the calls to work, they need to take place before 3:00PM.)

When the bus arrived at Kyron’s bus stop, his step-mother and father were waiting. They immediately called the school & the police. A search was underway before dark, but it had already been several hours and a whole lot of rain later.

Kyron’s biological mother drove up from Eugene with her husband as soon as she heard the news. They were not in Portland when this all came down.

I have gathered that a lot of people like to point their fingers at the step mother. For some reason, I just don’t feel that vibe. I can’t tell you why because it is just a “feeling”. Maybe it is because I am a “step-mom” of sorts myself and I know that you can love that child as much as you love your own biological children. But I really can’t bring myself to point my finger at her.

There’s also the mysterious entry of the FBI. They were called in to the case early on, very early on. By Sunday, an abduction profiler was called in (but the police were being very careful to avoid calling this an abduction case and still are not saying that). Today, the FBI created its own webpage for Kyron. That makes me think that the FBI and the police know a lot more than they are saying.

There is a fan page on Facebook: Missing Kyron Horman

The police and FBI gave a press conference today which was best summarized by The Portlander: Police Give Subtle Clues in Kyron Horman Case. Reading that article made me realize that the police have always suspected something foul, but they are being very close-mouthed so as to not give away what they already know. It affirmed everything I’ve felt about the case all along. I just pray that what they know will lead to the happy recovery of a little boy wearing wire-framed glasses.

Sometimes a news event really impacts your life even though you do not know the parties. That’s how I feel about Kyron Horman.

Here is a link to a flyer for Kyron. He is also featured on the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children.

Hopefully, all this attention will bring him home safely. The last time a news story impacted me like this was the 2002 disappearance of Ashley Pond. I had to drive the stretch of road that runs past the apartments where Ashley Pond and Miranda Gaddis (who also disappeared a couple months later) lived. Every time I drove by there, I felt like the air was sucked out of my lungs. In August, there was finally a break in the case and Ward Weaver was arrested. It happened that Ward Weaver lived right on that same stretch of road and that was the house where he murdered those little girls (who were nearly the same age as my son at the time).

I certainly don’t want any harm to come to Kyron and that is why I feel like I need to blog about him tonight. I want him to be safe.

Hug your babies tonight.