This weblog is my online journal. You'll find my opinions on a variety of topics as well as links to other
things on the web that I find interesting. When the spirit moves me, I may also include longer essays.
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As many of you already know, I had a seizure a couple of weeks ago. It was absolutely, without a doubt, the most
terrifying thing I have ever experienced....and I've had brain surgery! I may later relate this experience, but not
When it happened, I remember the first person I wanted was Matt. But I was unable to dial his cell or work numbers
either one, so I dialed 911.
At that point, I wanted the paramedics to hurry and get there. As soon as they were there, I began to tell all
of them that I wanted my husband, that they should know him as he is a nurse working at the hospital.
Finally, at the ER, I got someone to call my husband. He was in the hospital already, and was at my side in moments.
After that, I wanted my parents.
After that, I wanted my pastor.
Husband. Parents. Pastor. The order I wanted.
It makes me think about priorities in life. I didn't stop and think this out, this was the order that my mind turned
to all on its own. Or my heart?
Husband and parents make sense, but wanting my Pastor before anyone else surprised me, even at the time. Have I
unconsciously moved to the state in my Christian life where my priorities are starting to order themselves more like they
I need to think about this some more. But I think I'm closer. Closer to where my heart, mind, and soul should
Yes, it's me. I AM the woman with the best husband in the whole wide world.
Now, it's not just because he always remember to get me roses for Valentine's Day. Or that he always loves everything
I cook. Or lets me watch football games all day on Sunday...and Monday...and sometimes Thursday.
He's the one who faithfully prays for me everyday. Who was my stong, steady, comforting presence throughout all
of my health problems --some of which were basically terrifying.
He increases my faith, supporting it and nurturing it to grow. He inspires me with his work in our Church.
He tells me he loves me many, MANY times every day. He tells me, shows me, IS my love.
I like to listen to him breath in the dark at night in our bedroom. To watch him smile that little smile when the
dogs are being cute, and he doesn't know I'm watching him.
I could go on and on. And, no, I didn't decide to write this just because it's Valentine's. This feeling
is with me every day.
Many of us hunters have observed animals as they came across our path to our stand or blind. Sometimes the animal shies
away. Other hunters have observed deer tracking them towards their stand before throwing up their tails and
bounding farther into the woods. The desire to cover our trail is a common one.
It is generally accepted by many hunters that the utilization of rubber boots helps prevent the transmission of human
scent to the hunting environment. In simpler terms, wearing rubber boots keep the deer from smelling where you've been.
In an effort learn more about working my drug dog partner, I have been reading some relevant books, including Scent
and the Scenting Dog by William G. Syrotuck (see my book recommendations for more info on this book). In a section
referring to the effects of clothes and shoes on the transmission of odors, I came across this quote:
"Droscher claims that the scent of a person's foot was detectable by dogs approximately eight minutes after beeing in
a brand new pair of rubber boots 0.2 millimeters thick" (Droscher, the Magic of the Senses, Harper-Row, 1971).
---EIGHT MINUTES after being in a new pair of rubber boots!!?
Hmm... makes me think that perhaps the boots aren't as helpful as we had thought... and the deer are laughing at us.
May need to invest in different, additional forms of scent cover.
You're probably expecting some kind of rant about kids' attitudes, choices in music, or their preoccuation with pop celeb-idiots.
While I may hit this topic in a future post, that's not what I'm thinking about right now....
In my job with Dogs Against Drugs, I get to interact with a lot of K through 8th grade students. Some of them are
obviously very happy, have stable home lives, and have no serious family or school problems. Others have issues that
rival what you see on the evening news.
Some of the things we hear from the students are in the form of letters they write to us. Many of the letters are
actually written to their DAD dogs themselves. Suprisingly, even some Middle School students address
the letters to the dog. There's a measure of safety in expressing concerns to the loving dog, who will never judge or
make fun of them. They tell the dog things they've never told anyone else before and may never have expressed at all
if not for the presence of the dog.
Sometimes the students will just up and ask questions or tell things during the presentation about things they are worried
about, are seeing in their own families, or are affecting them in some major way. I couldn't tell you how many times
that as the student was talking, the teacher's eyes were wide with hearing some things that they had never know about the
I had one 4th grade boy talk quite accurately about the effects of meth on a person. He then flatly stated that
he knew these things because his Dad did it. The teacher, who had been talking to another student, spun around and said,
"Who said that?!" and about scared the boy to death. I quickly indicated that she should stop reacting that way.
I know that she had only heard the last of the boy's statement and was thinking someone was just telling a bunch of crap,
because "how could this possibly be happening to one of her elementary students?" I was able to then talk to the boy
about his problem.
I've had boys express that they had an older brother who beat on them -- not the usual brotherly spats, but actual fights
that hurt and scared them.
I had a Middle School girl recently talk about her older brother and his wife doing meth and were about to have their
three kids taken away by CPS. She was torn between knowing what her brother was doing was wrong, was dangerous for the
children, yet she wasn't wanting her brother to get in trouble.
Another MS girl told about her mother's recent health problems and how she now was having to take care of her little
sisters pretty much by herself. She was stressed, worried, and simply beyond her young capacity to deal with such issues.
Other kids express how they have never known their fathers. That their parents fight or drink so much that it makes
So much fear, worry, confusion, stress in such young people's lives. All I can do is listen with understanding,
guide them into finding help, giving them a place to turn. It's a job of joy and heartbreak.