Awakenings at 3 a.m.

NEW BEGINNINGS

A time finally comes when you "get it"... when in the midst of all your tears and insanity, you stop in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out, "ENOUGH!!". Enough fighting, crying, guilt, and struggling just to hold on.

Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

You realize it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren't always fairy tale endings and that any guarantees of "happily ever after" must begin with you...and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that your lost spouse wasn't perfect, nor are you; and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who and what you are...and that's OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself and in the process, a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did or said to you (or didn't do or say) and you learn that the only think you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don't always say what they mean or mean what they say and that everyone will not always be there for you and that everything isn't always about you.

So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself...and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties...and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new ideas and different points of view and you begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really want out of the rest of your life.

You learn the difference between WANTS and NEEDS and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you've outgrown through the grief process...or should have never bought into in the first place.

You learn that principles such as honesty and compassion are not outdated ideals, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build your new life.

You learn that you don't know everything, it's not your job to save the world and that you can't teach a pig to sing. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you begin to relearn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are, not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not necessarily mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations, and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and depression so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels our bodies, laughter fuels the our souls. So you take more time to laugh and play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve, and that much of life is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

Most importantly, you learn that in order to really "move on" you need direction, discipline, and perseverance. You also learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it's OK to risk asking for help, whether it is from a friend or a professional.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it under a cloud of impending doom, gloom, and sadness.

You finally actually learn that life isn't always fair...you don't always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to good people. You learn not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody punished you and everything isn't always "somebody's" fault. It's just life happening.

You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy, and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison your whole world.

You learn to be thankful and take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted...things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about...a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take some responsibility for yourself and by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself again and to never, ever settle for less than your heart's desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to trust, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility. Finally with courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.

~Sonny Carroll (The Awakening)

There's So Much Wrong...

...and Rich isn't here. I dropped Jack off for what I think will be his last tap before his surgery. He cried like a baby when they took him back which only added to the sadness I've been feeling; only some of which I can write about. He doesn't mind our regular vet, but he knows something is up when I bring him to GVS. So, here I sit, waiting for the call that tells me I can come get him. The house seems even emptier without him. I hope that the surgery fixes him 100% so that we can go camping, again. I feel that I'm giving him the very best chance I can. First, he'll be at a specialty center. He's in the care of an excellent internist and has had all the tests to confirm that he is good health other than this condition. Unlike regular vets, he will have a dedicated anesthesiologist for the surgery, and THE most competent surgeon to do his surgery. Now, he will be in their hands, and I can only hope that he comes through the surgery with good results.  

Best Friends

 Jack and Lizzie

So Sleepy

Quit Waking me, Suz...

So "Jack"

We all feel so bad about little Mary. She's suffered more than any of us in her seven short years. Doesn't seem fair. My thoughts are with her all the time, and with Jenny, John, and Judy. It's a helpless feeling not to be able to do anything-I'd trade places with her in a flash if I could. Poor baby.

I find myself wishing and wishing that Rich could be here--I realize how much I relied on him and his strength during difficult or sad times, and how I miss sharing the happy times. I still feel so empty and hollow without him. Perhaps he's fortunate not to know the sadness--I hated him to be sad. Hard time writing, today.

A Sad Time...

Two days ago I learned that my sister's granddaughter has Leukemia. Life changed for their family in a split second. Shock and disbelief, deep sadness, and frustration that they can't rewind and change what they heard, hoping with their very being that the doctors were mistaken when they knew they weren't. I feel so terribly sorry for her Mom (my niece) and her Dad who are suffering every parent's worst nightmare. And, I feel sorry for my sister and brother-in-law who are also devastated.

Fortunately, my sister has always been a very involved grandmother and is able to take care of their other child so they can stay at the hospital while they take the necessary steps to prepare their little one physically and emotionally for chemo therapy and the long and difficult road ahead.

It's such a helpless feeling to be so far away. I can't do the meaningful, hands on type of things, but I'm hoping our family can lend support in other ways from afar. As you read, please keep this precious little 7 year old in your thoughts.

We had good news about Jack. The Dr. from Texas will do the surgery, here, on June 7. I fully expected that he'd have to be tapped, again, today, but he wasn't. Even though he had leaked some more fluid, it wasn't enough to warrant another tap. Our vet wants to see him again next Friday unless some sort of emergency occurs before then. I'm very relieved. Jack has a good quality of life--doesn't even know why he's going to this place where I leave him amongst all the strangers.:( I hate that he looks back all the time they are walking him down the hall away from me. Our vet thinks he has a very good chance for full recovery, and I hope that I can take him out west once more and he can take over the blog, again.

Phew...

Good news. Jack had no fluid on the left side of his chest and not enough to tap on the right side. Our Vet called me with the good news and then said he had heard from the vet in Texas and he wanted to meet with me to discuss the communication from her. My heart sank because I thought maybe she was not going to do the surgery. Well, she's quite a lady.

1. The surgeon on this rotation at AMTU wouldn't let her do the surgery. The option would be to wait until the next rotation (sometime in June) and risk that,  that surgeon would also decline although she knows the next surgeon and thinks she has a better chance. She listed three other possible options.

2. She trained a surgeon who is at UGA (not as a specialist in this particular surgery), but whether UGA would permit her to oversee the surgery is questionable. If she could attend the surgery whether in person or by video conference I would consider it. Again, I would pay expenses, but our vet said the school might not go for it.

3. The vet from Texas does a clinic once a month in Houston at a facility similar to the one I'm going to and she would be willing to do the surgery there.

4. She is willing to fly here to Atlanta and do the surgery at our vet's facility if the surgeons agree. Of course, I would pay her expenses for being here and the costs associated with surgery and recovery. This is my 1st choice if it can happen. If it can, aside from making Jack well, I hope it can help other dogs and cats in the area with the same condition/disease in the future.

-------

So, Option 4 and Option 3 are the ones our vet and I felt would be the best, with number 2 as an ace in the hole and possibly number 1 as a last resort. 

So, today is a good day. Our doctor says Jack is in optimum health. I'm so thankful I found him. He's not only good to me, but he really likes Jack. The best news of all is that Jack is not filling up as fast as was expected and remains remarkably asymptomatic. He has a dog there, now, who isn't as lucky. He had 2 litres tapped, yesterday, and was back again, today, and had filled up with another 2 litres. He isn't breathing well and his heart is suffering so his prognosis is not good. Poor pup-makes me sad and I don't even know him. 

Susan and I have to feel we've done everything we could possibly do for Jack. We felt the same about our sweet Lizzie, but in the end we couldn't let her suffer and had to let her go.

I was so excited (and hungry) that I forgot about PetSmart. Oh, well, maybe when Susan gets home. I pulled into the driveway and took some pictures. What I thought were going to be great shots weren't; evidently I had pushed the manual focus button by mistake. Once I realized it, Jack was antsy to get in to eat so was avoiding the camera as you can see.

So Hard...

I got up early and took Jack for a walk before I took him in at 7:45 a.m. He's such a lazy bones. He didn't want to get out of bed.

Once he heard the leash, he was up and at it! He always runs to his food dish as if to grab an energy bar or to make sure that he won't get hungry on a trip. He started that way back when Rich used to walk him and since he is a "man of habit", he never changed. Susan and I laugh every time. He was surprised this morning because he didn't know it but he was fasting. When we got back we got into John's truck, which completely confused him, but somehow we managed to get where we were going. A more discombobulated pair you'll never find.

He couldn't get closer to me if he tried while we were in the waiting room--really wanted to sit on my lap, and managed to get half of himself up. A doctor walked by with a black lab, and of course he was reminded of Lizzie, as was I. He howled as she turned the corner out of his sight, and tears slipped out of me. The ladies at the desk came out to shower him with attention. Lots of pats and rubs.

When they come to take him in the back, he's very cooperative, but he always looks back at me several times as if to say, "Aren't you coming?" I just about lose it every time...I managed to get out the door and then lost it.

In the short amount of time between leaving the house and getting back, I lost my phone, his collar, keys, and my glasses. I recovered the phone and the remembered the glasses and phone were at home, but the collar is still missing--I think I left it there. It's the choke chain that he likes--it's like his jewelry. He's probably the only dog that really, really likes his choke chain. I take it off him while he's there because I don't know if he could catch it on whatever kind of area they hold him in until they're ready to see him.

It will be a while before I hear whether he has to be tapped. They do rounds until nine o'clock while the aids prep him for an ultrasound.

The house seems so empty and sad without him. I know if Rich were here he would be taking him to Texas, too. There used to be a program on the Animal Planet channel with a vet, Dr. Fitzgerald, in Colorado. Rich used to look at me, sometimes, and say, "If either of them (meaning the pups) ever get sick, we'll take them there. I wish he were here to go to Texas with us.

Well, I'm going to try to busy myself to make the time go by until they call so I can go get my buddy. I think we'll go shopping at PetSmart. Well, that's if he's not groggy. If he is, we'll go tomorrow.

New Hope / Anxious Days

I went out to dinner with Martha and Jim Turner, tonight, and as always, had a great time. They are so much fun to be with. Martha asked me to bring the blog book that Jack wrote, so I did. Time passes fast when I'm with them because we laugh a lot. Susan stayed with Jack. She's his sister but he thinks of her more as a girlfriend. She's very good to him. Sometimes she walks him three or four times a day; especially since I hurt my back.

Some days it's not so bad getting up the hill and once we're in the nature center, I enjoy our walk because I can let him go off leash (not supposed to, but no one is there when I go).

A vet at TAMU has agreed to do Jack's surgery. She is the director of cardiothoracic surgery at TAMU, and the best in the country at the surgery that Jack requires (name too long for me to remember).  The odds of success have been 20-40%, but her success rate has been 100%. We don't have a date or specifics, yet, but it's a step further in the right direction, and we're very grateful that we have this option. Fortunately, Jack is feeling fine; loves his walks, gets all excited when he hears Susan's car pull up, and his appetite is great. He surprises our vet and others at the hospital because he is asymptomatic which is very unusual. He's taking a nap on his dining room bed at the moment.

He'll be moving to his other bed shortly, as he always does. Jack has a routine for almost everything.

We have to be at the vet early in the morning so that our vet can check to see if there's enough fluid in his chest to drain. I'm hoping he hasn't filled up, again, but I think I'm pipe dreaming because it's three weeks and that's been about the length of time that he needs it. They have drained over three liters, twice, and over a liter last time all without showing any signs other than that somehow he looks to me huskier. I actually first noticed it after they drained him the first time--he looked smaller (which stands to reason). I'm glad he doesn't know what's coming-they keep him comfortable so I don't think he remembers anything bad happening, but he comes out pretty "drunk". I always get nervous and feel bad about taking him. That's why it was good to see Martha and Jim, tonight; it took my mind off it.

On a lighter subject, John and Michael took the truck and trailer over to the Nascar Race at Darlington, and will be home on Sunday. Today, I think they went to the pit for a while, but mostly camped. They are a comical pair. Michael said, the other night, that Lisa told him that John snores. He asked me if I had anything in the camper for   snoring. The only thing I could think of was the taser.

They had a smooth drive over-I'm not sure who drove when, but they both agreed that they'd never own a diesel truck because it is so noisy. I realized, driving John's little truck, today, that it's nice to have a small, quiet vehicle. However, noise or not, I'm glad I have the big truck pulling the little trailer. Michael sent a couple of pictures over his phone.

John cooked some Bubba burgers and then built a campfire toward evening or should I say  barn fire. At any rate, it appears that they are having fun so I'm happy for them.

Can You Tell Who Was Doing All The Work?

I have decided that I will take the trailer to Texas as it will give Jack a close place to recuperate. I have a friend who lives about 90 miles from the hospital so we'll get to see her at some point. Ellen graciously offered me a hookup that she has in her yard or for us to stay in her house. Such a sweetheart. Just knowing someone is that close makes me a little less nervous. I already know the route I'll be taking. Of course, I'm not as excited about this trip, but I'm hoping that Jack can take over the blog at some point. Maybe he'll even recuperate to the point where we can continue on up into Colorado. That all remains to be seen.

Well, sign off time for tonight. Crossing my fingers about tomorrow. I love my pup with all my heart.

In answer to my son's question...

"Mom, tell me how you found peace on your trip."

I learned to "quiet" myself. I, finally, after so long, had periods of time when I wasn't tormented by grief-not even a little. Those feelings returned when I came home. I felt Dad's presence within me all the time I was away, but I traveled very differently than we had when we were together, and to my surprise that was okay. It was part of the healing.

I was proud of myself for taking the pup that I love and he so loved, to enjoy the outdoors as he should. Dad would have been proud, too. I know because I could "see" the look on his face-his smile-his amusement, really. I was with him more on that trip than I had been since the day he died. I saw him at every turn not with the sadness of losing him but with the joy that I had known him. The rage and anger at the loss that I felt subsided and gave way to acceptance. The sadness came and went, but was a familiar, comforting feeling. It was cleansing to cry in nature; here, it is desperation and frustration.

I learned that I could live in 4 feet of space with very little "stuff". I loved the outdoors-not seeing another car or person for miles or sometimes days. The high point of a day might be finding a place to walk; a place for Jack to swim, and then sitting on a log or a rock and listening to the silence or eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I loved the cool breezes and the absence of bugs. I loved seeing things I'd never "noticed" before.

There was something satisfying about not being able to just jump in a car and go to a destination. The preparation and ritual of hitching up and feeling like a nomad was - can't find a word for it. Not knowing where I was going to sleep at night sometimes, was exciting. Unfortunately, age hampers ability at a certain point. Stay in good shape. I wish I had.

I liked being a spectator and seeing and doing new things. The dorymen. I could spend an unexpected afternoon watching cowboys with their herd or learning that cows aren't as dumb as I thought. The ferries at Sausalito. The thousands of boats. The golden hills of the headlands in Marin County. Watching the barges on the Mississippi. Crossing a wooden dock to get to an old cannery. Seeing Leavenworth, again, and the Wenatchee area. Finding Wisdom MT and the "Big Hole". The seals, the birds, the elk, the bison--they were all my entertainment, and I didn't need a remote to see them. I liked not knowing what was around the bend. I liked the adventure. It kept my mind busy.

I wasn't lonely even when I didn't talk to anyone for days. I liked not knowing what was going on in the world-the contamination of information that has become a part of everyone's life, it seems. There was always something to do. Sleeping near a river, sitting by the ocean, or walking in the woods was calming-I didn't feel so broken, any more. I learned to let go of anger and worry. I learned to live, again, and to be content just to be in my own skin in the surroundings that I chose to be in. I didn't need the clutter in my life.

I wish we had lived a simpler life and that I had been able to raise you kids without so much "stuff" so that you didn't have to search for the forest because the trees were in the way. It's not the ability to "see", it's the art of "noticing" that I wish for you.

I learned that it was okay to be different than Dad. I liked the way "I" traveled and even though it wasn't his cup of tea I think it could have been had he tried it. I had become so much a part of him that I had to learn to function as myself. I could only do that because either I let go or he let go...I don't know which.

There's so much more to it, but I'm not capable of writing it or expressing it. I have come to believe that peace is the one thing in life that we all need. I found it for a while, and once in a while, now, I drift back in memories and find it, again. I'd like, more than anything, for you to find it. All you need is a little trailer, a big truck, the first mile behind you, and the memory of your Dad to guide you.

I included this piece because I read it each day, and it helps.

WALK WITHIN YOU

If I be the first of us to die, Let grief not blacken long your sky.

Be bold yet modest in your grieving. There is a change but not a leaving.

For just as death is part of life, The dead live on forever in the living.

And all the gathered riches of our journey, The moments shared, the mysteries explored,

The steady layering of intimacy stored, The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,

The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring, The wordless language of look and touch,

The knowing, Each giving and each taking,

These are not flowers that fade, Nor trees that fall and crumble,

Nor are they stone, For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand

And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.

What we were, we are. What we had, we have.

A conjoined past imperishably present

So when you walk the woods where once we walked together

And scan in vain the dapple bank beside you for my shadow,

Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,

And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,

And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,

Be still. Close your eyes. Breathe.

Listen for my footfall in your heart.

I am not gone but merely walk within you.

Find peace in your new life, son. You deserve happiness.

A Sad Time

The boys are going to take the trailer in May. I've put it off since camping with Teresa, but today I went out to clean out and rearrange it.

While doing the usual cleaning, vacuuming, etc., I was coming across Jack's balls, and so many of the things that I had in the trailer for him. Before I knew it, I was cleaning through tears thinking of all the lasts that have occurred in his life.

I'm glad that he's still happy and not feeling the effects of this disease, as yet, and we enjoy the small things in life-walks up around the school and to the nature center. I'm going to have to give up the latter as it's kind of isolated should he start to have breathing problems. Last week, when I had to take him into the emergency room in the middle of the night, he cried and cried when they took him away from me. He's never been like that.

It breaks my heart to see him so happy and know that at any time, now, I could take him in to have an intense surgery that will require a very long recovery. I'm struggling with it. He's so healthy other than this lymphatic duct thing that it reminds me of when Rich had to go in to major surgery feeling perfectly fine. It's one thing to succumb to the discomforts of surgery if you go, like I did, knowing that you'll have less pain when you come out.

He's so good about taking his medicine. I count with each pill as he takes them and he takes them without any problem. Today, he was a busy boy hiding a rawhide bone deep down into the bowels of the leather chair that no one ever uses. He looked over at me as if to wonder whether I had been watching. I pretended that I hadn't. Why he thinks I would take his bone is beyond me. He spends hours, sometimes, figuring out where to hide his things. Between Susan's house and our house, he probably has 50 bones. We'll be finding them for years.

Many people would think I'm crazy for the way I feel about Lizzie and Jack, but they were my reason to live after Rich died. They provided so much joy even as the dark moments seemed so overwhelming. After Lizzie died, I wondered whether Jack would ever be the same. He isn't, really, and still comes in and looks at her spot whenever it's time to  go out in the back yard as if he's still wondering where she went.

Now, he's my significant other. He's the best communicator of any pup I've ever known. I just hope he understands how much he has been loved. Here are some most recent pictures.

Jack with his buddy, Comet

Teresa and "The Girls" at Reed

Shortly before Teresa, Molly, and Jazz arrived, Gail called to say that she, Paul, and Mac weren't going to make it. What a disappointment. Unfortunately, Lady, their motorhome, introduced herself to a low pole lying in wait for the right fender.

Nancy got up early in the morning. She wanted to be up at the office as soon as it opened to get tags for Teresa and Gail and Paul. It was cold, but Nancy went over very early to take a shower because she needed to run into town to get mustard, and she wanted to be back in time for arrivals. Well, I waited on her bed as I always do, and back she came muttering away. Evidently, not only was it cold, the water was ice cold-NO HOT WATER. She braved it and came back in shivering. When she got to the office, she told the lady and she called it in over the walkie talkie and the man said "Roger. I'll get right on it". Too late for Nancy. She got a great spot for Gail and Paul right across the way, and Teresa was right next door to us in a back in site-really almost a buddy site. I couldn't wait until they got here, and kept a watch for them.

We went to the store and got back in time to see Teresa pull in, but by that time, Gail had called to deliver her news.

Teresa pondering why her spare tire is crooked. Molly waiting patiently.

We all really relaxed most of the time while Teresa and the Girls were here, except for our walks. The weather was warm, and the bugs were a pain up until it was time for a campfire at night.

How could I forget? One afternoon, we were all lounging around when Teresa spotted an Eagle. Nancy loves Eagles so she ran to the car for her binoculars and they took turns watching it. There were lots of birds of prey in the park. Nancy and Teresa were wondering whether that was the reason why there were virtually no song birds until one lone, tiny little yellow bird landed on a branch behind their campsites. Teresa has an ap on her iPhone that describes birds and plays the different songs that each bird sings. It literally called some birds toward us. Soon after the little yellow bird came, Teresa spotted a mockingbird. When she played the sound of crows, they started flying in close by. Interesting.

Trail Behind Our Campsites

Look at Molly's Face. You can tell that she's had it with "posing".

Teresa brought shiny silver car sun shields that another friend, Janis, had used at Bandy Creek when they camped there. They worked very nicely. Teresa was nice enough to get two for Gail and Paul, too. All was fairly quiet until a spark flew up and landed on Teresa's chair and Nancy laughed like a fool because it occurred to her that the shields might not be flame retardant! She could just envision a "swoosh"! When she could finally talk and tell Teresa, they both laughed.

I was so happy to see the girls. I would forget myself every now and then with Molly, and try to "herd" her like I used to herd Lizzie. Molly doesn't stand for any nonsense, though, but I'm a lover not a fighter so I backed off quickly. I didn't have trouble remembering not to try it with Jazz because she's a different color than Molly and Lizzie. I love those girls.

Poor Molly was investigating tortoise holes on one of our walks and she got a burr on her foot and on her mouth. She came running over to Teresa as if to say, "Mama, please fix me. I hurt myself." Both the girls know how to speak very quietly to Teresa, and she understands what they are saying. Nancy understand me, too, but I'm not as quiet as they are, but then Nancy isn't as quiet as Teresa. Hmmm. Interesting.

Molly By Golly Miss Molly

Sweet Jazz

After the girls went to bed at night, I stayed out by the fire with Nancy and Teresa. I was cold and wanted to go in, but I didn't want to go in without Nancy so I tried to drive them nuts by whining (I almost succeeded). I tried my best to annoy them. By the second night, I went in and I think I made it for about 20 minutes. Then, the last night, Nancy bundled me up in a blanket by the fire (about time) and I slept until the fire was out and the ladies went in. She should have taken a picture, but oh, no--never when I'm being good.

The girls stayed in their trailer and I stayed in the truck when Teresa and Nancy went to the Catfish House for dinner the first night. Nancy didn't care for what she had, but Teresa said hers was delicious. For lunches and other dinners, they just brought what they had to the table to eat together. One night, however, they made a "gourmet" hotdog dinner. Now, I've been to a lot of the WAC meets and I see other ladies not only make meals for a large group, but they have FLOWERS AND CANDLES as center pieces. When they cooked, everything was organized. These two--OY YI YI! No table cloth. Mass confusion getting the beans and corn out and it was cold anyway upon arrival from our camper AND their center piece was the bag of garbage they were using as they were "preparing" to eat. They thought it was so funny once they realized that it was there and then they got really silly about it--especially when they thought about the fancy tables that the other WACs set. Hard to believe that us pups are the ones that aren't allowed in restaurants! Well, they said it's their style of camping and I think they're actually going to stick to that story.

It was mostly Nancy's fault because when we traveled out west, she did away with anything unnecessary-like the mat to keep dirt out of the trailer. She cleaned the whole place, yesterday, and after the rain last night it didn't take any time at all to drag a beach load of sand in. It poured buckets last night. Fortunately, drying takes place pretty quickly in sandy areas.

I keep looking over for Molly and Jazz, wishing they were still here.  It's been overcast all day, but at least I got to go on another trail that was part of the system that we walked with Molly and Jazz. And, of course, we walked around the campground and several times on the trail behind the campground whenever the rain stopped. We didn't hear any wind last night, but there were some pretty big limbs down across the trails.

Tomorrow we head home. We hate to leave, but all good things come to an end.

Reed Bingham State Park / Moultrie-Back to Camping

Nancy and I decided to camp in Reed Bingham so we could camp with our friends, Miss Teresa, Jazz, and Molly. I think it's been over a year since we've seen them so we're really excited. Miss Gail and Mr. Paul are going to meet us here, too, so we are very happy and excited. We are camped in the area we were camped in last time, and hoping that no one gets the spots around us. Two trailers have left since we've been here, so maybe we'll luck out.

Nancy says I'm a Handsome Boy.

The day started out with a great walk early this morning. Nancy didn't take pictures of the trail because she wanted to enjoy the walk, too. It was nice and cool and the birds were singing away and NO bugs! Well, let me rephrase that, the crows were making that noise they make. We haven't seen a buzzard, yet.

When we got back, this guy came walking across the road into our campsite. At first, Nancy thought it was an armadillo because he was moving pretty fast. We thought about naming him, but then we figured-nature's creatures shouldn't have names unless they're tame like me.

We were on our way to get fire wood and to go see the town of Moultrie. Nancy snapped a couple of pictures of the campground before we left.

They are already putting up Christmas decorations. The courthouse was very pretty. Nancy said she thinks Rich was in every courthouse in the state of Georgia when he did all those years of traveling. Many of the Boards of Education are located in the county seat. We walked all around the town. You can see how organized they are by the piles of lights. 

Well, Nancy's not very happy because she's having trouble with the blog. We'll get this over quickly and head out for a walk to cool off (if you know what I mean). We saw many beautiful homes on our walk. This one was turned into a bed and breakfast.

This magnolia tree was on the courthouse grounds. It was magnificent. Can you imagine that it was planted in 1845?

On the way to and from Moultrie we saw cotton fields, ponds, farms that were growing collard greens, and an air boat! We came back through another entrance of the park. Nancy will take more pictures, tomorrow. This bridge was pretty. The last time we were here the whole area was flooded.

While we were out, Nancy left me in the truck with the engine running so that I could keep cool, and ran into the grocery store to pick up some hot dogs. Unlike where we live, she couldn't get cold slaw and potato salad all prepared. We got all the way home and DOH-no mustard, relish, or onion. Tomorrow will be a busy morning. Nancy wants to go over for a shower, then go get the tags for the other two sites, and then run up to the store (about 8 miles) AND walk me (I think that should go first, don't you?)