A Falk in the Driftwood Worest..with Peaches.

Are we there yet?, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

(thanks and love to Zilch the Torysteller for part of the title...)

This weekend was the annual Sandy Paws event...and if this were years past I'd be doing something uber fun right now in Jacksonville before getting ready to go to Orange Park to watch the dogs run. But alas, with gainful employment in higher education does not always come annual leave, so here I am, back from my break, blogging. Yeah.

I headed down Thursday night after work to spend a whirlwind weekend of meeting, greeting, laughing, and even a little tired crying (on the way home yesterday) with people that are one of my families of choice: my greyhound friends and more specifically my Follow That Hound friends. Even though with the closure of B&J Kennels this year the FTH program is no more, we all still get together and we all still feel like a big extended family.

Friday afternoon Anne and Leah and I went out to Driftwood Beach for some photos of me and the dogs...but I ended up just wandering around and taking pictures because HOLY MOLY is that place amazing. Oaks felled by a hurricane created petrified sculpture. It's like walking around and seeing dinosaur bones. Insane.

Friday night was spent laughing until we cried with good friends. I need more of that in my life. I need my Peaches.

Saturday was more Sandy Paws fun, including the crowning of the king and queen, a live auction (including one of Daisy's books that went for $55 I think?), and then the tired returning to the villa for one last night's sleep to the sound of the waves.

Yesterday was awful...I hate the annual theft of an hour by Daylight Saving Time even though it means I'm only 4 hours behind Simon rather than 5. But the pretty face in the picture there kept me company for the ride back to Greenville, and I wouldn't trade a minute of that time even if it did seem to be an hour earlier.

I'll get my pictures uploaded to Flickr soon...stay tuned. Roooooooo!

Flashback Post #5...for those about to Sandy Paws...

Profile Seinfeld, or How to Win the SP Talent Show without even TRYING.

Again, for Cathie and Leah...

Daisy in Orange, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

...I've got my blogging face on! Well, I had it on last Thursday, as well as my Sad Dog Owner face AND my I'm Trying to Avoid Homicide face.

Daisy came back "home" to the US last Thursday. She flew all by her little self from Manchester, England, to Atlanta, Georgia. Simon and I made arrangements via a pet relocation service to get her on her way, and we were assured of a certain number of things upon handing over almost $1600 to them.

On the day, everything started well and Simon and his dad got Daisy to the airport and checked in on time. She was xrayed and then sent on her way, and apparently her flight was fine and she actually got to Atlanta 10 minutes ahead of schedule.

My friend Joanne and I headed down to pick her up. We were told by the relocation folks in England that all I would have to do is turn up at the Air Cargo warehouse, pay my import fee of $50, present them with an airbill number, and they would then hand Daisy over to me. That is not exactly what happened.

The very very very nice man at the warehouse told me that while Daisy was on the ground and on her way to the warehouse, I wasn't going to be able to collect her that night because she'd arrived too close to the time that the customs officers at the warehouse leave for the day. I assured him that we'd been told that they were there 24-7. He assured me with a very sad look on his face that they left at 5 every day, and any animals that arrived too close to that deadline would be taken to a nearby kennel for the night and their owners could collect them. I told him that we hadn't sent any food with her and he said they would feed her. I told him that we feed her raw and further we'd paid a lot of money to get her on that flight and I was not leaving without her. He looked like he was going to cry but told me he couldn't do anything. I went in the bathroom, cried a little, swore a lot, and then got on the phone to Delta.

Oh, easy, the lovely representative I spoke with said. You get her paperwork from them, take it to customs in the actual airport, they will approve it, and then you bring it back. I told the guy that, he grinned and got to work on her paperwork. He asked if I knew where to go, and I said that all she had told me was "customs."

All of you who fly regularly...where is customs in an airport? Yep, you got it, inside the secure area where you need a boarding pass to get through. A boarding pass assumes that you are BOARDING a flight. See a problem yet?

I got to the airport and NO ONE could tell me where I needed to go to get a gate pass to get through to customs. I spent an hour just finding out that I had to go on my own to find a TSA agent to get a gate pass. Only, that's NOT what I had to do at all, I needed to go to DELTA to get a gate pass (where I started, an hour prior). There is something about telling a ticketing agent that TSA sent you that makes them very snarky, just so you know before you try it. Finally, I had my gate pass and I was going through security.

One full body scan later, I was on the train under the airport to the concourse at the complete other end of the airport for international arrivals/departures and customs. I spent most of hour two since leaving the warehouse getting to that concourse and then sitting while the customs agent checked her paperwork and finally stamped it. Back through security (thankfully no full body scan this time), back on the train, back to the car and by 8:40pm we were waiting on them to wheel Daisy's crate out. For those keeping score, that was four hours after she arrived in Atlanta, and a whopping EIGHTEEN hours after she was put in her crate at Manchester Airport.

My baby girl hadn't made a single mess in her crate. Bless. I was so happy to see her that I just sat there and held her for a minute, big stupid tears rolling as she wiggled to get away from me and glare back at her box. And now she's here, she's learning about being one of five dogs in a house instead of the only one, and she's taking most of it in stride. I think I've seen her snarl more in the past two days than I have since I've had her.

A strongly worded complaint will be issued to Delta because that was just unacceptable. Not only did the right hand not know what the left hand was doing, but I don't think it knew there WAS a left hand.

There is a positive, though...Simon's visa was approved at his interview a week ago today, and on this past Friday he got his passport and the Mysterious Brown Sealed Envelope that he has to take AS IS to customs when he arrives in the States to stay.

Well...to stay until I've had it with my life here and feel that old need to move on...but hopefully that won't be for a long time yet.

Just around the bend...

Simon and Daisy, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

It seems like it was just yesterday when I took that photo over there. It was at Sandy Paws 2007, and I had only had Daisy in my life full time for one less day than I'd had Simon!

Five years ago today I drove to Hartsfield International Airport to pick up Simon on his second ever trip to the United States. I was scared to death...that he wouldn't like me, that I wouldn't like him, that the dogs would be TOO MUCH, etc. etc. etc. But everything changed as soon as I got out of the car and bent my neck backward for the first of whoknowshowmany times to hug him. It was right and perfect and it still makes me hoppy to think about.

Hoppy: to be in a state where one's feet simply cannot remain on the ground. Eg: me in a fabric store.

Moving on...

I was scared and nervous and and and to pick up our Mei Mei at Sandy Paws the next day, but we headed on over to the villa where Cathie and Anne were to get her. Once again, all that melted when I had her precious little self in my arms, even though she wanted to run from the crazy lady strangling her.

Five years, gone in a blink...and just around the bend, Daisy in my arms and picking Simon up at the airport. Life is good...or will be, just around that very happy bend.

Spring...in February?

My Mommy is a geek. Seriously., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I went across the way today to grab lunch at the student center and was struck by how WARM it is. WARM, y'all. Like open the sun roof and put Kid Rock on the radio, warm. Like I can't believe this time last year I was freezing, warm!

I was reminded in that short walk of one of the reasons why I wanted to move our family to the United States. While there are many, MANY lovely things about the UK and England in particular, and I do miss parts of it every single day...the weather is not one of those things.

61F in February. 16C. That's the great British Summer if you live up north like I did. I had to TAKE OFF MY SCARF outdoors because I was TOO HOT. (I didn't even bring a coat today!)

Oh, and in other news...she's coming home. Very soon. Like next week soon if at all possible. And then she can think I'm a dork and a geek and whatever all in person, and it will be okay, because she will be HERE. With ME. Mei Mei. Life might be starting to get a little bit...good?

I don't think I can jinx this...

An American Greyhound in Yorkshire Cover, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

My little girl, my psycho puppy, my sweet Mei Mei who has gone so native she's forgotten that cookie means biscuit...is coming home to me and Clown VERY VERY soon!

I'm not mentioning anything else because I've already jinxed that once, and we didn't bury St. Joseph in the backyard yet. Mainly because we don't have a backyard, and we'd have to bury him upside down in a plant pot. And then the plant pot would get sold and .... yeah, I wasn't going to mention that, was I?

Coming soon to an airport near me...FTH Oopsie Daisy, world traveler and my baby girl. I might even get her some choccie bikkies to celebrate.

Flashback post #4: February 2010

Hello from Daisy

(hopefully I'll be saying hello again soon!)

Recognize that young lady there?

Miss Deaf America at the Super Bowl, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

No? I didn't think you would. She's Rachel Mazique, and she is the currently reigning Miss Deaf America. She was invited to perform "America the Beautiful" and "The Star Spangled Banner" in ASL at Super Bowl XVII this past weekend in Indianapolis.

Are you scratching your head now, as I was, wondering how you missed that? Well, let me tell you why. You missed it because NBC chose to film (in close up) Blake Shelton, Miranda Lambert, and Kelly Clarkson instead as they simultaneously performed the songs in English.

Oh, no wait, they did manage to film the choir of children that were singing with Ms. Clarkson.

What does that say to the Deaf community that tuned in to watch because they had heard she would be performing? It certainly explains the lack of sign language interpreter during those two parts of the pre-game festivities...I guess they thought they had that little bit of THE LAW covered when they asked Ms. Mazique to perform.

I'll tell you what it says. Your language is an afterthought. Your language interferes with the general public being able to gaze longingly at pretty celebrities whilst they sing. Your community is not legitimate in our eyes, so we invited her as a token gesture which has NO actual meaning.

Think this is wrong? Yeah, me too. If you click on the link here you can sign a petition demanding that the NFL and NBC offer an apology to Ms. Mazique and the Deaf/HOH community for this blatant snub.

Marlee Matlin tweeted about the ability of the camera people to capture M.I.A.'s rude gesture but not Ms. Mazique's performance.

When we expected some beautiful sign language during the #SuperBowl National Anthem, we got instead a "sign" during M.I.A.'s rap. Ahem.

Well said.

Flashback Post #3: 6 February 2008

This is a good one, though...and it has reminded me to check my calendar because we may just be coming up on Pancake Day!

Shrove Tuesday Meal Attempt

Where's mah powdered shu-gah and jam?  

Flashback Post #2: On this day in 2007...

Yeah, soon I'll get back to writing original stuff, but for now...this one's pretty good.

Thought for the Day...Kinda...

Feel free to dive into the archives over there and let me know what you think of what you find. The more I re-read, the more I can see how my blog writing is progressing...and regressing...so I'd love to hear your thoughts as well.

Flashback Post: This day in 2006

Go check this out...it's about the cancelling of a television program that to be honest, I only have vague memories of watching, let alone being THIS outraged about it being cancelled.

In which the preacher's kid in me comes out to play...rough


Crazy...that was six years ago today.  

You Days of Our Lives Jinxed It, Didn't You?

Mommy, did you say GO?, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

If you are not familiar with the Days of Our Lives Jinx phenomenon, let me briefly explain. I watched Days from the time I was in pre-school until about four years ago, so I consider myself somewhat of a home-grown expert on soap opera plot construction, at least for American soaps. I also should mention that I just did the math on that, and I spent an incredibly HUGE chunk of my life in the fictional town of Salem...and I'm not sure whether I'm impressed by my own loyalty or horrified that I've just admitted that in public.

Right, so on to the Jinx: You can always tell on Days that a major plot twist is coming when a character utters something in terms of absolutes. I'll give you an example. "Nothing can ever come between us again!" is the signal that the third member of the love triangle is about to arrive in town. "Your prognosis is beyond excellent and I'm sending you home today!" means that this character will be in hospice by the holidays. That sort of thing is the Jinx, and I have a hard time avoiding it in my real, non-soap life.

I seem to have done it again, on a grand scale. Remember that post before, about how we had sold our house? The buyer backed out. So, all of that "we are on the path to happiness" business of last week is now replaced with "hello, Square One, fancy meeting you here, AGAIN."

I chose today's picture because it's a visual reminder of the Days of Our Lives Jinx which is loosely related to the adage about counting chickens too early...and because it's my Hunky Man, whom I miss desperately. Ugh. I need a do-over.

SOLD! Almost...

Top of the World...well, okay, the Moor..., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Yep, after almost four years of waiting and tidying and waiting and chasing down estate agents for feedback someone wants to buy our house.

Let me say that again, because I'm not sure I believe it yet... SOMEONE WANTS TO BUY OUR HOUSE IN KEIGHLEY!

I'm not sure how I feel. I'm overwhelmed and overjoyed and when you add in that I'm probably overtired I find myself to be a little bit...sad. Yep, as much as I used to scream that I hated that house, I'm sad. It was our first house after we were married. It was the house where I stayed the first time I came to visit Hubs.

But at the same time, everything is coming together in a way that I admit I never thought it would. Hubs has his interview at the end of February, almost a month from today. The buyer wants to take possession of the house in four weeks. I may very well be picking Daisy up from Atlanta in less time than that. It's all more than I ever thought would happen.

Now to find a place to live so that the four of us aren't continuing to squat in Anne and Damian's house...

Hey, did I mention I'm now working at Clemson University? No? Oops. Next blog post. Swear.

Lurve

Lurve, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Well, my bags are packed (not really), it's early morn (in the US), the taxi's waiting (he's here for a neighbor I guess), he's blowin' his horn (not really, that's just someone jaywalking)...

I don't leave till tomorrow, but I am trying to go on and process it today so that tomorrow isn't so awful. Flying days SUCK, but at least there are some bright spots this time:

I start a new job on Tuesday. More details on that later, as I'm not sure they've told everyone else that applied for the position.

We are an interview (and possibly a piece of documentation or two) away from Simon having his green card.

I will be living with my ClownA at least M-F and hopefully more if I can find a place to live that I can afford.

But still, something is tugging at me. This tiny island grabs hold of you with all it has when you let it, and it is so very hard to let go. One day I'll be back for good, but for now we are ready to start a new chapter living in America. I've been ready to start that chapter since May!

See you guys on the other side of a big ocean and a tin bird.

Three Years and Counting

At Last..., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

So it was the third of January, 2009, and I was getting married. Simon had been in the US for about two weeks already, and we had done the rounds with family and friends, had wedding showers, Christmas parties, and New Years Eve had been rung in properly. I had spent the night with my sister and brother in law the night before, and that morning I remember waking up and thinking "FINALLY!"

Everything was as normal there, and to be honest it didn't seem like anything exciting was happening. My friend Leah and her son had stayed there as well, and we all got up, had coffee and breakfast, and went about our morning. I hadn't made an appointment to have my hair done or makeup done at all, having chosen instead to just do it myself. Susan was my matron of honour and she couldn't go have that stuff done because she was dealing with a perfect little daughter of her own who was just two days past turning a month old.

The last minute preparations were going on when we realised we didn't have any Yorkshire Tea. It was important to me that we have it as it is Simon's favourite and instead of toasting with alcohol (since we were having the reception in a church) he and I had special mugs and would toast with tea. But we had no tea.

Mom and Dad couldn't go get it (I can't remember why). Susan and Dave couldn't go get it (see above month old baby Joy) so Leah and I set out to find the store and get some tea. We had to go what seemed like a million miles away to find this little British Import Shop to get some...a fact that I still laugh about now as I walk into Whole Foods and there's m'tea, on the shelf.

We got back and I discovered that I was not as proficient at putting on makeup as I thought I was. No worries, Liz helped me tremendously. There was no plug in the bride's room for my straighteners so I went to the bathrooms off the fellowship hall of the church and tried any number of ways to get the wild brush on top of my head to behave. Nothing doing. Finally I pulled it back into the messy bun I wear most of the time, pinned my veil on, and here we go.

Liz was helping me into my shoes when the call came that we had to go SOON so she scampered off to make sure her daughter, our flower girl, was ready to go. Unfortunately, I discovered too late the buckle on my left shoe was too loose. I hadn't had a chance to stand in it and tell her it needed tightening as I had the right shoe, and I couldn't bend over to do it myself. At least my right shoe was on properly, I told myself. I can always try to keep my weight shifted over to my right. I won't look too much like I should be shimmying up a ladder and ringing the bells and shouting Sanctuary!!  Well, I hoped I wouldn't anyway...

I remember standing in the narthex and Andrew, Simon's brother, giving Mary Catherine (his and Liz's daughter and our flower girl) some last minute instructions and then winking at me. I remember that because he had looked so very uncomfortable the rest of the time that the wink seemed incongruous to the point of being funny. Maybe he was trying to help himself relax as well as make me smile?

Wedding March started..."How do you solve a problem like Maria?" from The Sound of Music, natch...and in Susan went, followed by Andrew. They shut the doors and Daddy and I got ready and then suddenly there we went, me reminding him not to let me fall and holding his arm for dear life.

And then I saw Simon look at me and smile, and I know it's trite to say but everything else was gone. I barely heard anything Daddy said during the ceremony. I almost didn't answer when it was my turn. Didn't matter. I was marrying Simon, my best friend and the most wonderful soul I know.

Remember the loose shoe? That could have been a real problem if I hadn't been powering through the unsteadiness and pain in my foot.  Halfway through the ceremony, for example, because I hadn't asked anyone to tighten it I could SEE the skirt of my gown wiggling because my leg was shaking uncontrollably on that side due to that darned shoe.  Thankfully after the ceremony Leah came to the rescue and we took both the shoes off.  I had said from the start I was going to get married barefoot so at least I got to go to my reception that way.  I can remember my god-daughters Tai and Kaya picking up the flower petals from the aisle and Mary Catherine telling them to put them back, puzzled when they didn't respond because she didn't know they were deaf.  I remember my cousin Sandy telling Simon that if he hurt me Sandy would come after him.  I remember Brian and Courtney's Finn being recommended to a 12-step program for cheese after being caught a few times too many at the cheese plate.  I remember laughing and family, and just generally being overjoyed.  That doesn't happen much in my life, so when it does I hang on to the memory with all ferocity.

Three years and his smile can still stop me in my tracks...and make me smile right back. Happy Anniversary, Sweetie. Here's to a thousand more.