Baka Chan ~ Our Little Fool, Our Dog

I found him. My dog. He was tied to a pole in front of an empty lot. He was tied with the rattiest, dirtiest rope I had ever seen and he had a little cat collar on that was so old, it would have broken off if he had pulled hard enough. He didn't though, he wasn't very big. I stopped and looked at him. He stood up on his hind legs and begged. I was in love.

Baka at 3 months

I hurried home to get Adventure Man. He was just coming home to our little apartment in the teacher's building. I told him about the little puppy and we raced back on our bikes to see. There was only one person around in the neighborhood. An O-baa San. A Grandma. She was little and bent over and she said, You should take him! He's been terrorizing the neighborhood for days. He's been thrown out! No one wants him!

That's what happens in Japan. It costs a lot of money to have a dog fixed. And they just leave them tied up in the back yard so it's easy for a stray to impregnate a dog. There are a lot of strays. When a pup shows up, they just dump it somewhere. We lived in a very rural area and this was very common, apparently.

The dog stood up again and begged at my husband. He was in love too.

We took him home. He stunk so bad we had to give him two baths. He had been living on trash and monkey poop. When he was in the bath he fought it so bad that I called him a "baka!" A fool. The Japanese equivalent of Stupid! My husband laughed. No matter how I protested, his name was final. Baka Chan. The Little Fool.

4 or 5 months

We cut a hole in the side of a Rubbermaid Storage box and made him a dog house. We walked him every morning and when we got home from school, where we taught English, and then again at night. He never barked and our neighbors didn't even know he was there until we moved back to the states.

I called him my Baby Dog. He was my first baby.

By the time we started having kids he was two. He was so excited to see Lulu. The first night he got up with me each time I fed her. He would sit at my feet. After a few nights of that he decided he could trust me. Or he figured someone should be getting some sleep around here; it might as well be him!

Baka at 8 years ~ He always crosses his front paws 

He looks like a pure Sheba Inu, but we'll never know. He acts like one, too. They are "cat like" and dog aggressive. They need to be well trained to be controlled. But they are incredibly loyal. If you've seen the Richard Gere movie, Hachi, then you know. That really happened, only in Japan. There is a statue of the the dog at a Tokyo train station. I think it was Tokyo, anyway. The breed was bread in Japan to hunt wild boar.

Chasing a Ground Squirrel 

They are also snow dogs with thick undercoats that shed out tuns of hair. They should be brushed everyday. Should.

enjoying the spring sunshine and the snow
~ what a life ~ 

Sometimes he would ask to go out when it was snowing and just sit and look up at the flakes coming down to rest on his fur. He loved to chase snow balls which explode in his face.

Baka is now 14 years old. He is cranky and arthritic, and deaf. A few months ago he started throwing up. He couldn't keep anything down. The vet said he had liver malfunction. He seemed to be doing OK on meds. But still vomiting a lot. Then he had a seizure. Amazingly, after the first seizure, he seemed a lot better. But the seizures are most likely do to the build up of toxins from the liver. This is a common problem with the breed.

The seizures started getting more frequent. And the last one lasted so long, and he laid there so still as I held him, I thought he might go right then and there. {By long I mean a few minutes. It feels like 15 to me!}

He saw the vet again and she wants him on a special diet.  He hasn't had another seizure, but it's only been a few days. Other than that he acts fine. As I said, old and arthritic, and sometimes it's hard to get his attention when he just stands there and stairs. I feel like I'm yelling at the rug! But he also still jumps around and enjoys being out and about. He's been a wonderful dog. And I am so glad to know that we have given him a much better life than he might have had on his own in the mountains of Japan.

Baka Chan
My Little-Old-Man Dog 

Instagram Love ~ 1000 photos

Today I took my 1000th photo on Instagram!
Yeah, I'm obsessed!

But not only that, I'm only 4 weeks away from being on Instagram for a year. So in less than a year, I have taken, no, shared 1000 pictures with anyone who is on Instagram. I've taken many more pictures then 1000.

So, in honor of this special event...

{Ha!}

I'm sharing some of my favorite shots.

Just a few. A lot less than 1000 anyway.

 You know how I like to do flashbacks. Like, "a year ago today" kinds of things.

So enjoy. And if you want to follow my snap happy madness, just click on the gray camera up at the right hand top of my page. It's a crazy life I lead, but someones gotta see it!

And have a wonderful weekend, Y'all!

Dollhouse Diaries III

A few months ago my daughter said she wanted to share her dollhouse dolls. They were my dolls when I was a kid and now they occupy a bookshelf in my daughter's room. She loves changing the "scene" around and then taking pictures of them. She also asks me if I have posted them on my blog. I'm starting to wonder if she needs her own blog???

It looks like the dog has knocked over the milk pail. Mama looks pretty mad. And poor Daddy, he got stuck getting the toilet unclogged! Oh My! And while Granddad snoozes someone is setting the table.

What will a dinner in Doll Land bring this busy family? 

The Day Keith Richards Stole The Playground Pirate Flag

Getting ready for the Rich and Famous is a lot of work. Although, the Rich seem to be harder once they are here then the Famous. The Famous usually have a staff who informs the Resort of all the things that must be ready and in their cabin for them to be happy. The Rich, aren't necessarily famous and they haven't quite figured out that if they give the Resort a list of needs before hand, they would have far less to complain about once they reach their destination. 

The best complaint I've heard of was: "The rocks outside my cabin are dirty. Can you please send housekeeping up here to clean them." I kid you not. 

The longest list of requests was from the Rolling Stones. We were busting our butts to get ready for them.

Did you know that they have Casablanca lilies wherever they go. As the in-house florist, I got to do the flowers for their rooms. However, Casablanca's have a vary strong scent. Not everyone wants that smell in their room. Some of the arrangements HAD to have Casablanca's and some of them had to have ANYTHING BUT. I can so see them fighting over the placement of the flowers. There were Casablanca's back stage as well. Someone really loves their Stinky Flowers, as do I! 

Jolly Rodger on the beginning of
Pirates of the Caribbean 4

Now the tale I will share didn't happen at our current Guest Ranch, no, we used to work and live at a ranch outside of Missoula Montana. When the Rolling Stones performed at MSU they stayed at our ranch. And however stressful it was to prepare for our special guests, they were by far, the most fun group to have stayed with us. They didn't want to leave. We didn't want them to go.

During this time, the kids in the employee housing had a playground between their homes. And one of the families had a big Jolly Rodger. A homemade pirate flag that they hung on the fort of the swing set.

Now most of the guest lodging was on the other side of the Blackfoot River. But there was one beautiful home over looking the river that was just below our houses. Keith Richards was there. When housekeeping went out to make up the room after the first night, there was a Jolly Rodger hanging over his door. Pandaemonium struck. Radios were cracking and phones were ringing. Finally my Darling Adventure Man called me and asked, "Did Keith Richards take the Pirates Flag off the playground???"

I had no idea! I looked out the back door to see. It wasn't there! Where was the flag? Adventure Man said that housekeeping said that it was over the River House! 

OMG! THAT IS SO STINKING COOL! By all means! Keith Richards CAN steal the kids Jolly Rodgers! What a great story that would make….

As it turns out, the Mom who made the flag, and who's boys it was, took it down that day. The playground flag had been lowered that day. Probably out of respect for the legend on the banks of the river, who apparently always travels with a pirate flag and flies it where ever he goes. 

But Keith loved the story. And that our kids played under the Jolly Rodgers, as well. 

January ~ My Month In Photos

We started 2013 off in California where Bunny got to see the beach for the first time. So we start with Today ~ We have Bunny at the beach. But it's also something new. Something New ~ my lovely scarf. 

 Heart ~ rubbed on the window of the car in ice. It was getting cold as we drove north.

 The View From Here ~ This wasn't the view from where I was that day, because we were driving home and I simply forgot to take a picture. SO this is the view from the top of the Dumbo Ride in Disneyland. Movement ~ Again, I didn't take this pic on that day, but the gas station in Pasadena CA had this great sign with the add-on of Racing Gasoline. So that's how the Little Old Lady From Pasadena did it!  Mine ~ The kids piled all the stuffed animals in the house on top of Bunny. Her favorite word is "Mine" plus, she is mine! 

1 o'clock ~ It snowed that day. Something that started with "T" ~ Tea, we started getting our first bunch of colds around this place. Street ~ That would be in Big Town! Little Town doesn't have street lights. 

Water ~ A hot herbal blend tea bath for Mama! From Nature's Tropical in Helena MT!

Circle ~ I needed some candles while in the bath! Yellow ~ my free range chicken egg! Yum!

An ordinary moment ~ Getting them rounded up and in the car to do the school bus run (this could also be used as Ready). Two things ~ Carrot and peanut butter. My snack! Shadow ~ The picture I drew in the disney art studio last month! 

Delicious ~ an avocado and spinach smoothy in the making. Something I saw ~ My 12 year old's art work. This is what she doodles! What I do ~ The dishes. And laundry, and bathrooms, and beds and...

Corner ~ of one of the guest cabins. Electric ~ The light in my kids bedroom. Is it any wonder they get so scared at night! Look at the shadow! All the light fixtures in our house were made by the original owner of the guest ranch. Some day I'll give you a tour! Strips ~ The snow drift fence we set up to protect our driveway. 

Landscape ~ It's small here but there are deer in that shot. Together ~ My Bean was in the school play. The Tortoise Versus the Hare put on by the Missoula Children's Theatre. She was one of the Reptiles. And The Sun ~ They don't call it Big Sky Country for nothing! 

 Grow ~ my Christmas Cactus has a bud! Yeah! Down ~ making cupcakes for their big sister for youth group. Yourself ~ That's me. 

I hope you enjoyed the randomness of my month in photos with Fat Mum Slim. 

To get the February list click here. 

Words Without Meaning ~ What Dyslexia Feels Like

The air was dry and hot as it usually is in California on a sunny October day. Recess was over and the third-grade classroom was full of sweaty bodies. The sound of squeaky desks slamming and children laughing echoed throughout the room. I never really felt a part of it, though.

I don't know why they waited to tell me, perhaps they were afraid. How does a parent break it to a nine-year-old child that she has dyslexia? I know now that they didn't tell me because they didn't know. I remember being taken to specialist after specialist. I remember having my eyes checked and my deep wish that a simple pair of glasses would fix it all.

I'm not upset with my parents for the way they did tell me, for it was kind and full of love. I do wish, however, that there could have been some way they could of helped me to understand. We waited a year to know of my learning disability; because of this I spent a year of not understanding myself in a time when differences were not easily excepted.

Mrs. Spencer and I on the last day of school.

"Bring your spelling books to the rug, class," Mrs. Spencer announced over the commotion. Mrs. Spencer was a tall woman with a kind smile, and was always singing or humming. She seemed to have a constant spring in her step. I liked the teacher, but I hated third-grade.  I always felt sick to my stomach. The very thought of school made me ill. When my mother would wake me each morning for school, I would wake up crying. I was afraid. I was different. I was made fun of.

I'll never forget that day the students went to the rug, because it was the first time I was truly classified as different. Mrs. Spencer came to me and told me that I didn't have to go because I didn't have the same spelling work. I had my reading and writing lessons at the Resource Lab in the mornings. The lab was in a trailer at the end of the kindergarten playground. Through the large windows of our third-grade room we could see the edge of the trailer and a good half of the small lawn. The specialist would come in the back door of the classroom and and walk with me to the lab.

As we would walk along the edge of the lawn, past the class windows, I could feel all my classmate's eyes following us. The side of the building was lined with rocks that crunched under our feet.  I looked down at them so I would not have to see the children's faces. That was the first time I decided to be invisible.

Back in the classroom, my desk was on the very end of a cluster of desks, and I was careful to keep the pencil drawings on it as black as I could. It was always upsetting when I was forced to wash the desk; hours of work down the drain. Now I stared long and hard at these drawings as the class passed me on the way to the rug with their treasured spelling books. I thought, or hoped that if I concentrated hard enough I really would be invisible. But they did see me, and they new why I wasn't getting a spelling book out of my desk. It was as if they could see straight through the rust painted metal of my lone desk. They knew I didn't even have a speller.

Could they see me struggling that first day we had them? Could they see the words in my brain shattering like glass until I could no longer tell they had meaning at all? Could they see the shards cutting my fingertips as I tried to follow along? Did they know I couldn't read?

Now could my classmates see the wall I was building with their words as they passed me on the way to the rug? "Lucky," they whispered. "Why?" they asked. "Stupid," they teased, but worst of all, and the one that still calls out to me like the cries of a wolf pack circling their pray in the night, "Retarded!" So there I sat alone in my desk building my walls, as I drew.

I didn't know words then. I didn't know one book or poem or play.  I lived in a silent world. I could speak like anyone else, but as I sat at my desk and looked at that spelling book on that first day they were handed out, all I could see was defeat. The words meant something, but what? What was I supposed to do? It bored me. My head hurt to try; to make sense out of it. And so I drew.

My classmates read on and on as pages flew by. It was as thought it were easy. I looked back at the page. Surly I missed something. Maybe I'll see it this time. A picture, a sign, some kind of clue. What was I doing? Nothing, just words.

Mrs. Spencer sat at her desk. I turned and looked at her. She looked up. I turned back around. "How much longer must I sit here?" She must have felt my pain, because just as quickly as I had found that red and yellow book on my drawing pencils, it was gone. "Kristen, you don't need to do this, we'll find something else for you to do," she apologized. It was almost like she had made a mistake by giving me the book. She seemed to have forgotten something.

What does she mean? Why don't I get the spelling book? What was in it? What made me so different? Then all of a sudden that dreadful book that I hated to think about became a desired book and without it I was a stranger. I was different!

My parents didn't tell me about my learning disability until the following May. After a long year of testing. The next school year I changed schools and started a new life. With the knowledge that I needed a new learning strategy, I blossomed. Things were finally starting to be explained in a way that made since. Although it wasn't until I was a sophomore in college and I had a tutor who really helped reading click. I don't know if it was my age, or the simple instruction that I had never had before.

But even now, when I here children make fun, or someone implies, that malicious word calls back to me soft and cold from a nine-year-old's mouth, "Retarded."

The San Diego Tragedy ~ My Idea For a New Reality Show

We did the City Pass for Southern California. We spent Christmas with Grandparents and then had three amazing days in Disneyland.

The City Pass was less expensive then just getting the Three Day Disney Passes so our trip included the three days in Disneyland, a day at Sea World in San Diego and a day at Universal Studios in LA.

Sea World 2006

We went to all the shows in Sea World and took pictures. We got some fun pictures of the Kids petting a Dolphin. We were enjoying the sunshine and the day in all, when tragedy struck. I very stupidly hung my camera on the hook in a bathroom stall instead of putting it back in my backpack where it belonged. I walked out of the bathroom and never saw it again.

We filled out a lost and found report. But the camera was never turned in.

Once we had come to the awful realization that it was gone, my husband took the kids on a ride, while I waited with Bunny who was asleep in the stroller.  I was alone, I sat on a curb and cried. No, I balled my eyes out. We lost so much when we lost that camera. So many fun memories.

As I have mentioned before, we LOVE Disneyland. But this year we wanted to go to Disneyland because our toddler LOVES Pooh. 

We all wanted to see that special moment when she meets the caricatures for the first time.  It was darling. As she waited in line she was so impatient to get to her turn, but when the moment came, she became shy. 

She met Tigger first. He bent down and put his hands out,  she crept up to him and kissed him on the nose. We took family pictures and sweet pictures of just Bunny hugging Eeyor and Tigger and Pooh. 

We have pictures of her amazement with the It's A Small World ride and in the same shot, the boredom of Daddy who was holding her. I have similar shots of Daddy holding the other kids on that ride, and each one is special to me.

As I sat on that curb and cried, I cried for all those sweet memories. 

It wasn't until we got back to Montana that I thought of the Reality Show idea. While we were in a grocery store parking lot, someone came up to me and asked if this was my wallet. She had found a wallet left in a shopping cart! What a difference! Was it the place? Or the item lost? Was it because a bathroom stall is so secluded? No one would know? Or has no one taught their kids to turn stuff in! To try and find the owner, to do the right thing?? Are we just living by the rule of "finders keepers?"

But what if you were watching this all on TV? What if you could see the sorrow of the woman crying on the sidewalk in Sea World? And what if you could see the person in the bathroom stall? What if, on the show, when an item of value is found and the finder does turn it in, they won a prize? A big cool prize, like a trip to Hawaii! Of course if they didn't turn it in, then they got the camera, or whatever the program used as bait. And they got to be humiliated on TV, even if their face was blurred out. Watching that on TV would get people thinking, "What would I do?" 

What if? 

What would you do?

Now luckily for us, Disneyland takes pictures of you meeting the caricatures, and you can go on line and buy them. For a lot of money. We bought some. But sadly, Sea World wasn't on the ball with the shots of us. We don't have any pictures of that day. The picture at the top, of the Killer Whale is from our trip in 2006 when we did a City Pass as well.

And we have memories in our hearts.