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In this unprecedented time there are plenty of uncomfortable jokes to go around.  It’s interesting to watch people turn to humor when nothing is certain.  It reminds me of people that laugh at inappropriate times but are unable to help themselves.  We must keep an air of lightness or we will be bawling balls of sniveling helplessness.

I relocated to my sister Sally’s about a week ago before the band on non-essential moving about was initiated.  Fortunately we have 2 acres, 4 dogs, 1 cat and a lot of projects and spring cleaning to be done.  One of our projects is to go through my Mother’s photo albums, a bitter-sweet project at best.

Only one week in we are becoming reflective.  Thinking about our parents and the way we were raised.  I recently posted on Facebook pictures of a home in Midland that my parents built around 1960.  Sally and I were looking at those pictures and I asked where my nursery was as I was born during the time we lived at this house.  She pointed it out and told me it was the library.  I have faint memories of dark wooden bookshelf and dark red carpet; she confirmed this was correct.  She noted that brother Scott’s and her bedrooms were located on the front of the house with views strictly facing that direction.  She recalled climbing a bookcase to a tiny porthole where she and Scott would watch the parties.  She said the house was specifically designed so that kids were in a separate area of the house with no view of the events.  Reference movie: The Help.

My parents were not bad people and at the time I don’t think they were that unusual in their “kids speak when spoken too” attitude but it sure does make for semi- well adjusted adults.  I still long for past camping trips and long conversations about the future but they always were and remain completely theoretical.

Don’t get me wrong, we have all done well in our lives.  Scott particularly chose what I refer to as the “gold watch” route.  Now he lives with Stacy in an ideal location, healthy and retired, enjoying life.  Meanwhile, Sally and I chose the entrepreneurial way.  Apparently we enjoy struggling and constantly relying on creativity and the ability to work and rework and rework again when things do not go smoothly.

This is one of those times.  For the first time in the last (and very difficult) five years I had a full calendar of work for 2020.  Embarking on new projects all the way around including student travel (something I thought I would never do) and being a guest speaker aboard American Cruise Lines.  Remaking myself once again into an historian on various topics and as always an entertainer.  I hunger for learning and experiencing new ways of life and I am hopeful that this screeching halt of tourism is just a bump in the road.

Just a little note for those of you bored enough to read my ramblings and those of you that cannot believe you watched the entire Netflix series “Tiger King”.  May your brains rest in peace.

Blessings!  Polly

Just a quick post today to tell you about some secret gems.

When you plan your time at Blarney Castle…

Remember to visit the cave.

And the gardens…

And walk beside the river…

Free and Roaming wishing you a blessed day from the Blarney Banks.

Hold onto your hats folks.  Reworking my blog…more travel, less tragedy!

The world lost a magnificent creature a few months ago.  I have been unable to face it, write it, talk about it but rather pushed it away.  It’s time now to honor him with a little remembrance.

His name was Marley.  He came to us by accident as most of them do.  We got a call and Dan said, “hey why don’t y’all come over and take a look at this little puppy we found before we take it to The Animal Defense League”. Click here for information or to donate

Under a bar stool was a smooshy little sleeping yella baby.  Too much skin, big baggy eyes and a broken toe, he already had my heart.  There was no way this little seven pound bundle of sweetness was going anywhere but home with us.  The first few hours were pure bliss.  We watched him as he slept (he was cutest when asleep) and waited for him to wake so we could watch his floppy little ears when he ran around the yard doing his bunny hop.  This is the beginning of the story of the ten thousand dollar free puppy.

A check up at the vet was first on the list.  The vet said, “Wow!  Did you see the size of these paws?” (later to be known as Marley’s “big ‘ol bunny feet” equal in size to my 7.5 women shoe size).  Over the next 60 days he gained a half pound a day, every day and it did not stop there.  At his heaviest he topped off at one hundred six pounds but that was after the consumption of an entire seven pound bag of cat food and the bloat that followed ($3000)…I digress.

God made Marley so cute so that nobody would kill him.   They say a dog will not defecate where they live.  After nights of no sleep we conceded and bought a crate.  The next battle was at two a.m. each morning which one of us would hose out the crate and who would hose off the puppy.  These horrible sleepless smelly nights lasted until our buddy Redneck Jack said, “I’ll show ya how to put a puppy to sleep” and threw him out the back door.

Bubby (my favorite nick name for Marley) managed over the next several years to rack up an enormous amount of vet bills.  He commonly would get things stuck in his big baggy eyes.  One time he had to see a specialist (doggy opthomologist…cha ching!).  After about $1500 worth of tests it was time for the diagnosis and treatment.  The Doctor said, “Marley has……..big baggy eyes and gets things stuck in them”.  Well thank goodness we paid for that.

One of the many good things about Bubs was that he was very trainable.  Obviously driven by food he would do almost anything for a bite of kibble.  I was even able to train him to be a great protector of the chicken flock although he still loved a romp right through the middle of them causing them to fly and cackle.  He watched over them, ate almost all their eggs before I could get them, and learned to smell their vents and predict when they would lay an egg.  No, I’m not kidding.

I spent many years in the demonstration business and had lots of “product” around the house.  I represented a company called Honey Stinger.  Marley managed to get hold of a box of chocolate bars…he ate them all then went for three bags of energy chews.  It was a long night pumping him full of huge amounts of hydrogen peroxide at the vets urging.  He finally blew and it was a cacophony of chocolate, foil packages, peanut butter, minty something and plain ‘ol bubbly puke!  Disgusting.  He felt like a million bucks and wanted dinner shortly there after.

Marley was gross!  Commonly had floor length drool out of both sides of his mouth with various stuff in it.  He would sit under the dining table at dinner and fart.  He cleared rooms at large parties with his gaseous explosions.  He regularly smelled of things you could not even explain and his belches seemed to come from somewhere other worldly, like maybe the depths of hell.  Having said all that, he was one of the great loves of my life and brought me more laughter and joy than just about anyone or anything.  His sweetness was overwhelming.

Seems to me this post is getting a little long so I will bullet point a few of Marley’s other brushes with death.

• Cat food incident
• Ate a water bucket and hose
• Ate his weight in chicken poop
• Ate a few raw not so fresh dead animals
• Ate a LOT of chicken feed
• Got a crab caught between his toes
• Fell in the bay over the sea wall
• Got kicked in the head and knocked completely out by my horse, Friggy
• Got ran over by a golf cart (not just once)

It wasn’t all bad you see.  One of the things we most enjoyed doing together was standing by our beautiful fig tree, me with a glass of wine and him snuffleupagosing under the fig tree for ripe fruit.

Sweet Marley with the “cuuuurrrrrly hairs” left us at age 10 or so.  He lived a wonderful life and gave us so much joy.  My prayer is that they have Figs in Heaven.