Hillary Clinton

Okay....I DO hate to talk about politics, but happily I have an outlet now on this blog.

WHERE are Hillary's "35 years of experience" spent in politics??? Was that Whitewater?? "Sleeping" with a husband who made decisions? Or turning her head while said husband blatantly played with the hot chicks? I'd LOVE to know that answer.

I have no respect for Hillary as a woman, never mind a PRESIDENT!!! She allowed "Bill" to get away with many fundamental 'dis's' towards her. I'd have cut my husband's body parts off after that kind of dis and humiliation. BUT.....she stuck by him. Why??? For political pay back. To me, she sold her soul on that one. Her campaign has the best 'spin doctor' ever to keep these things from coming up.

In the mud-throwing of politics, I'm the first one to steer clear of the accusations. BUT, after having watched the S.S. Cole be attacked by Bin Laden under Bill's watch, and Hillary letting 'Bill' off for his slaps to her while in office, I have to wonder if and when these people ever draw a line. Or do they all just whore themselves for advancement WITHOUT a line. Either way, I'm "out".

Sad and sick.

obsessed with Spring

I suppose within the near future it will become VERY apparent that I'm REALLY obsessed with Spring. Attempting to self-analyze, there are a number of reasons I know of. First off, I LOVE to be outside. Futzing around in the yard with the puppy, some great tunes on and barefoot is really my idea of bliss. The second thing is color. Winter in New Jersey is monochromatic. I truly believe the beauty of Fall is to give you your last dose of color before everything turns to shades of gray and white. It's dark in the morning at 6:30 and its dark again in the afternoon by 5 p.m. The SAD theory used to sound like pure who-ha to me when I was younger. Now approaching that 'middle-aged' portion of my days, I can verify that the lack of sunlight CAN effect your affect.

During the winter, I look forward to 7 p.m. on a daily basis. At that magical hour, my mind tells me there's only ONE hour left to attend to the domestic tasks of everyday life before I can grab a source of 'read' and watch T.V. without feeling guilty. Sad. Come Spring, I look forward to the 10 a.m.-ish time of day when I won't look completely insane being out in the yard checking the flowers, feeling the birds and coming up with whatever 'new' projects I envision. I'm not sure if there's something 'wrong' with me, but I do question myself at times as working outside is something I find to be completely therapeutic.

Whelp - be sure that when I retrieve my newspaper in the morning tomorrow, I'll be checking the height of the tulips with a serious excitement!!

17 days 'til SPRING

Today we hit a 55 degrees!! Downright BALMY - with a strong, shining sun.

Over the weekend, the Barlow's sign FINALLY started the 'number-of-days-til-Spring' count down. This is the time of winter I can finally see and feel the light at the end of the tunnel.

Nothin' like some fresh cut flowers to watch bloom and keep me in a happy place.

After addressing the household tasks earlier today, I thought I'd treat myself and Shadow to a walk on the bike path. Needless to say, Shadow did the 'happy dog trot' for the entirety of the walk. When I noticed he started limping a little bit, we turned around to come back but he enjoyed every minute.

My furbabies I

You're looking at two 'life forms' who've added so much love to my life. While all humans can have issues, these two have given me so much unconditional love its amazing.

I've been an animal lover since I can remember, although growing up in Northern New Jersey, my parents (more so my Mom) weren't very interested in pet ownership. Looking back I can remember finding baby birds who'd fallen out of nests, kittens, small mice.....any form of 'animal' would somehow find me. If injured, I'd harass my mother into helping me find it veterinary care. If deceased, there was always a "proper funeral" given out of respect for life.

My first cat, named "Sam" out of my family's need to be androgynous (my parents didn't' know what sex it was), I found across Ivy Street under a car as a kitten. She was howling for her mother and I BEGGED my parents to let me keep her. So in kindergarten at the age of 5, I had my first 'real' pet. Sam was your average grey/black domestic short-hair cat but I thought she was the most beautiful thing I could ever want. Although I was really little, I do remember connecting with her and feeling I knew what she wanted/needed. Sam lived almost 21 years and we had to put her down the weekend of my then-boyfriend's birthday. I hated having to be at a birthday celebration at his mother's house that Sunday when I knew the next morning I was going to lose what I'd known to be my best buddy. My Dad drove me and Sam to the Arlington Vet and I know watching me so distraught broke his heart. I was with Sam when she passed but was inconsolable for weeks - even taking a week off from my job so as to not embarrass myself with my sob attacks.

Then maybe about 8 months later after I became engaged, I read a "Found" classified in the Observer which touched my heart. It seems a little kitten was found on the Elm Street train tracks ("the track") On contacting the person who listed the ad, she told me if nobody came forward to claim the kitten she would allow me to adopt it. Without even dropping a hint to my parents, with whom I still lived in a basement room, the following Friday I went and picked up another 'beautiful' gray and black domestic short-hair. Her name was "Tiffany". Tiffany was my first "real" charge, with me being responsible for her food, vet bills, etc. She was a very sweet cat to me, although she didn't take kindly to my husband once we lived together and he took 'her side' of the bed. She adapted well to the births of both of my children and 2 moves to different houses.

When my son Danny was about 5, the husband finally succumbed to the begging of me and the kids. That Christmas, "Shadow" arrived as a 5 year old little black ball of fur. His Mom was a Shepard and his Dad a Black Lab. I'd never had much exposure at all to raising dogs, so along with the 2 young kids I had my hands full. Not knowing much I consulted with a neighbor how had a long history of great dogs as pets. She was wonderful in her advice and I was committed to raising a well-adjusted dog. In hindsight, Shadow was a very smart and easy to train puppy. Many attempts were made by Shadow to befriend set-in-her-ways Tiffany, but to no avail.

For my daughter's communion, she wanted a kitten. A friend who gave her piano lessons was a feline foster mom or sorts who just had a new litter. The daughter chose from the litter an adorable long-haired orange and white kitten. His mother's name was "Peaches", so we named HIM P.J., short for Peaches Junior. P.J. was a feisty kitten and a mischievous adolescent. He was in to everything to the point where you had to laugh. P.J. had NO fear of Shadow and the two became fast friends. With Shadow being well behaved and P.J. being the 'Denise-the-menace' of cats, there were a great pair.

Even though friends, Shadow would always protect Tiffany from P.J. A favorite pastime for P.J. was to lurk in the shadows waiting for "Tiffy" to pass and then pounce. She hated and feared him. If Shadow caught wind of the lurking P.J., he would stand by and intercept the pounce, allowing Tif to pass by safely. I thought it was cute but she never seemed quite as thankful to Shadow.

Furbabies II to follow.