Just a Message from Tamar

Hi Everyone,
I know this isn't the easiest page to post a comment or join the Followers group, but we do appreciate hearing from you all. I found out recently that a family who were good friends with mom and dad in Scotland are reading our blog, and that is amazing. It would be interesting to know how many readers we have, and how far across the globe they live.
If you have difficulty posting or joining the Friends list, then please email us to let us know who you are, and where you're from.
Our email address is smrtgals@ymail.com, or you can just email us at our personal email addresses if you'd rather.
Enjoy the beauty of the new season, and please keep checking in and reading. It's our incentive to keep posting!
Thanks,
Tamar - the blue one!

Raw Dog Food - Tamar

I thought my dogs should eat raw food,
Neil said for dogs, it was real good,
And so he said, the next time he dropped by
He’d get some from the local pound,
(He always gets it for his hound)
And he would bring some for my dogs to try.

That night when feeding time came round,
I squeezed out beef, it looked like ground,
All slimy, bloody, stinky, just like poo,
I plated it and put it down,
My doggies looked at it and frowned,
And dipped their little noses in the goo.

Well, Khera took a little taste
Of this offending smelling paste,
I almost heard her say, “What is this shit?”
And Dixie just looked sad and thought,
‘What kind of crap has mother bought?’
And wouldn’t even try a little bit.

She ate some from my dinner fork,
And wondered why it wasn’t pork,
Like we had eaten for our evening meal;
And Khera saw her eating, thought,
It was a different meal she got,
And so came over with a view to steal.

Now Khera has some nasty habits -
When cat poops, she is there to grab it,
And chows it down like it was honey-sweet;
And Dixie, too, will come along,
And doesn’t seem to mind the pong,
When licking dirty, sweaty, smelly feet.

But this raw stuff? They both agreed
It wasn’t going to be their feed,
And so I thought, well maybe I will fry it,
So when ‘twas cooked I let it cool,
And then it made these doggies drool,
They both were dancing round so they could try it.

However, as it cooked, it stank.
Like it was something old and rank,
The house took on this horrid, rancid stink;
It drove my husband up to bed,
And I lit incense as they fed
I won’t be trying more of that, I think.

Hell No, I Don't Swear No More - Tamar

Hell No, I Don't Swear No More
When I was young I never swore
My mamma smacked me when, at four,
I lost a game of checkers and said ‘damn’
And so I learned to speak all nice
I didn’t want a slapping twice
And future curses I made sure to ban.

And then there came the waited day
When I grew up and moved away
And that is when I learned to swear real well
My friends and I would let ‘em rip
Enough to make my mamma flip
And pray I wouldn’t die and go to hell.

In school, as teacher, I’d refrain
And censor these words from my brain
But when at home again they’d all arise
Until I had my kiddies three
And since they learned their words from me
I’d have to put my swear words in disguise.

Like jeepers, fudge it, darn it all
And cripes, and shoot – incredible –
They never worked well if I stubbed my toe
But I held strong, until one day
My kids grew up and moved away
And once again my words began to glow.

But now my children bring their young
And say, hey, mamma, bite your tongue
Don’t let my babies learn to talk like that
So once again I clean my speech
And when I say that life’s a beach
You’ll know I’ve got the proper words down pat.

The wise folk say when we grow old
Our brains get covered up with mould
Which eats the part that tells us ‘don’t do that!’
So watch out, people, when I’ll talk
My words will make a sailor balk
And make a pretty interesting chat.

Last Hike - Roxie

It felt like the last hike before we leave next Friday. Abe and I loaded up in the truck and drove to our favorite hike, Swan Creek. Favorite for both us because the creek generally runs along the trail allowing Abe frequent dips in the cold stream and me to enjoy the sound of water. I’ve always been drawn to water no matter what mood I’m in. If I’m feeling good, like today, it’s refreshing and fun and stimulating. When I’m sad or mad it soothes me, calms me down. Interesting, since these two things are opposite, but that’s what it does for me.

Today was a good day. Abe was happily trotting along in front of me, scoping out the trail ahead as usual. I was enjoying the beautiful scenery, the sound of the water, the birds singing and what I think are chipmunks warning there could be danger coming their friend’s way. But we’re no danger. Abe tries but I doubt he’ll ever catch one of those quick little guys. I’m no danger because I couldn’t catch one if my life depended on it – well, maybe if my life depended on it, but I’d need a trap or something. Not a good thought. Hope I never have to eat one!

It’s a glorious day. The sun is shining, the temperature is perfect at 72 degrees and I’m feeling very strong from all the hiking we’ve done since we arrived on July 29th. I have mixed feelings about leaving. I definitely miss my home and all the other things I mentioned in my last blog, but this place has a way of weaving its spell on you. The mountains are spectacular and the climate is pretty darn near perfect at this time of year. The people are friendly and, for want of a better word, so REAL. They are exactly who they appear to be. They are genuinely happy to see you and stop and chat should you so desire. That’s refreshing. I like the people here in Montana.

I know without one iota of doubt that I would HATE being here in the winter. I am not a cold weather person. My thin Texas blood doesn’t do well in cold weather and I’m not that fond of winter sports. The times I’ve tried winter sports haven’t been all that successful or enjoyable. So leaving here before the weather gets too cold is probably a good idea.

I do dread the three-day drive back, but I can do it. Getting there will be the carrot dangling in front of my nose. There will be much to do when we get there to get things back the way they’re supposed to be – but I look forward to it.

I will be so happy to see my friends and family again. I miss them tremendously. It’s been a long, slow, easy summer but I’m ready to leave all this behind and get back to my life in Rockport.

If today really was my last hike, then it was a good one, except for that one little incident. We were at the end of our hike and I had already spied our truck through the trees. One tiny misstep later, I found myself sprawled on the gravel pathway. A rock had slipped out from under my left foot, the left foot that has been sprained at least four times, stupid weak ankle, and I overcompensated and fell to the ground with my right knee and both palms hitting the gravel first. My right hand got the worst of it with little pebbles breaking the skin causing some bleeding. Next thing I know, the Abe that was nearly 20-30 feet ahead of me was looming over me with an expression that said, “Are you alright? What are you doing down there?” I swear, the concern on his face was sincere and heartfelt.

I responded with, “No, my hand hurts, look at it.” I shoved my palm up to his nose and he proceeded to lick my aching palm with the gentlest care. He has this way of licking that is long and slow – in fact, he rarely licks you at all and never in the face. A very different dog, I assure you, than most. After that I felt as if I could get up and make my way to the car and a Kleenex to wipe the blood away. We loaded up and came home. If today was our last hike, at least it was a memorable one.

Homesick - Roxie

I’m homesick. I shouldn’t be. I’m in one of the most beautiful places on the face of the earth. On the other hand, I live in one of the most beautiful places on the face of the earth, too. As evidenced by the photo, it's a lovely place indeed.

I miss my bed, I miss cooking – and if you say I could cook here, you obviously haven’t seen my kitchen in Rockport. Not quite the same, I assure you. I also miss my laundry room and I even miss my routine.

I miss the incredible wide-open bay view behind our house. I miss the people in Rockport, my friends and even the HEB store employees who know and recognize me when I walk in the door and always stop and chat. Don’t get me wrong, the people here in Big Sky are equally friendly and will usually stop and gab a bit. But they don’t know and recognize me.

I miss my family and friends in Austin. I miss my kids terribly and could really benefit from a nice big hug from both of them. I miss my best friend, Tracy, who is always so supportive, kind and generous with her time and energy. I miss Amy, who does my hair, for obvious reasons. I miss Beth, my manicurist in Rockport. She’s going to have a real chore with these hiking boot feet when I return and my cuticles are hopeless – only she can fix them.

I miss being able to simply let Abe out any door of our home with no fear of him running off to play with another dog or investigate the neighbors’ apparently wonderful smells. Our home in Rockport is completely fenced and is his domain, a job he takes very seriously. We have no fenced area here so we have to put Abe’s leash on every time he has to pee or just wants to go out and smell stuff.

I miss my TV and DVR. We have one here but it’s in the living room downstairs and no one wants to watch my shows, not really. And I hate to hog it and won’t. So I’m missing some shows – I’ll catch up – maybe, but probably not.

I miss my truck. There are vehicles here for my use but obviously my Honda is set up perfectly for me since it’s mine and I miss that. Not a biggie but a missing thing just the same.

I miss the size of our home and it’s nice open floor plan. I miss the chandelier that hangs above the dining room table. I miss the Zen feel of our home and the uncluttered aspect of it.

I miss my privacy, a commodity I take for granted in Rockport. Don’t get me wrong, I love and adore my mother-in-law, but it’s not the same as living alone with just Randy and Abe. I miss that.

I miss the conveniences in Rockport. When I run errands there it’s so EASY. Here we have to go into Bozeman for groceries and pretty much everything else, the cleaners, the movie theater and Wal-Mart. All of those things are so close in Rockport. It’s easy to accomplish errands there. Not so much here.

I think mostly I miss the familiarity of home and our small town. I can go to Austin for a weekend and fill up on family and friends and then drive back to Rockport’s beauty and inspiration.

I guess I’m simply homesick.

Another Hike - Roxie

I went on another hike with Abe today and fortunately it was an entirely different experience than my last one. Abe was such a loyal companion. I DID let him off leash and he didn’t get too far away from me this time and actually came to me when I called “here”. Perhaps that was the granola bar enticing him though, couldn’t be because he was actually behaving I’m sure. Well, once during the hike he did run helter skelter down to Swan Creek where a beaver dam had made a heavenly deep swimming hole just for him. He quickly dove in and then ran pell mell up the steep hill right to me – the whole thing took about five minutes and was a sight to behold so it was worth it. He’s such a beautiful beast and I was laughing at how fast he did the whole process.

I had a whole group of people hiking with me this time, too. There was Tom, John, Madonna, Tina, Stones (that’s stones, I wasn’t stoned), Stevie, Christie, Lindsay, Mick, even The Police came along. One guy with that group, I think he called himself Sting, even sang a love song just for me. Annie, Paul, Ringo, George, John, Bob, Candy, Chris, David, Delbert, some folks from a band called Queen and Eric also put their musical talents to work for my hearing pleasure.

We all sang along together. All in all, it was a delightful hike. I believe the difference in this hike and the last one was that Abe and I were alone. I think he feels some responsibility for me in a pack mentality sort of way. I know I’m not alpha to him but I am the bitch. And man, can I play that part well when it suits me! LOL

The Hike - Roxie

The hike began around 10:00 a.m. and the day was still damp from the previous night’s rainfall. Abe and Joey were eager to begin and both were excitedly tugging at their leashes. We climbed up the hill behind the house and let them both off their restraints. Joey is quite loyal and doesn’t travel too far away and so is Abe, usually. On this day he decided to go further and further ahead, relishing his freedom and the return of his pep and energy due to the cool air and even colder creeks. The weather we left behind in Texas was almost intolerable and he’d lost all his vim and vigor to apathy and reluctance to even venture outside. He loved the new climate and was madly exploring and cavorting all about.

As we neared the highway I thought it was time to rein Abe in so I began to yell his name loudly. When he didn’t respond I began to scream his name in a deafening screech. He was either deaf or ignoring me – I believe the latter. He finally appeared to have heard me and was returning in a very wide arc when he found it. The “it” he found was so loathsome, nasty, gross, rank, and disgusting I shudder to recall it’s nastiness. But Abe found it quite attractive. It was so appealing to him he decided to have a roll in it. Yes folks, he rolled around blissfully, all four feet moving in ecstasy and pure abandonment. I’ve never seen a dog enjoy rolling as much as he did in this instance. When I finally reached him I got a whiff of the repulsive odor and an eyeful of the ghastly yuck he was enjoying so immensely. This wasn’t just a dead animal, people. It was the worst maggot-infested, previously vomited pile of filth I’ve ever had the displeasure to encounter. And Abe had rolled in it.

To say I was angry with him at that moment is like saying “Awww, it’s too bad the Titanic sunk, those poor people.” I was beyond livid. I was ready to euthanize him, seriously. The thought of bathing him and having to actually touch his nasty ass fur with that revolting stench made me nauseous. I arranged the leash where he had to walk behind me – no way I was walking downwind of that.

We got home as quickly as we could – I bitched the entire return trip and Amy was in total agreement with me on all the ways I could do him in. I ranted – she smoothly approved of each and every horror I imagined for Abe. I tried to think of anything not to have to touch or smell him ever again. I was so damn mad!

I bathed the beast immediately upon our return and it came out in the wash, so to speak. I was angry with him all day but around 9:00 p.m. I finally sorta, kinda, forgave him, I think. He’s so lovable he’s hard to be angry at for long. I still won’t let him off the leash though. Uh-uh, ain’t happenin’!

Impermanence -Roxie

IMPERMANENCE

I live on the Gulf Coast of Texas right in the bend before it straightens out and meanders down to Mexico. The people are small town friendly and it has been a real eye opener for someone who moved from the capital of Texas, Austin, where the traffic is heavy and the people aren’t as friendly as they once were. I like the friendliness in Rockport. And I like the size of the town. Running errands here as compared to Austin still gives me a thrill. I can do in an hour what used to take me three in Austin. Nice.

Our home is beautiful – truly it is. We moved down here and built our “dream” home and a dream it is. I pinch myself sometimes just to make sure I’m awake. Every day I walk over to the back window and look at the bay view and thank the stars, God, my guardian angels, and whoever will listen, for my blessings.

I just have one problem living here – hurricanes. Did you know that hurricane season is six months long? From May 1 to October 31. I didn’t realize that before we moved lock, stock and barrel down here. What a dummy not to have done that kind of research before moving to a coastal town, huh? That’s me – jump in and just do it before thinking it through! Will I ever learn? Probably not.

We go to Big Sky, Montana for the most active hurricane months, August and September. We pack up the things we just simply don’t want to lose, art and photos, things like that, and take them to a climate controlled storage facility in Austin where they don’t have hurricanes (probably the most endearing thing to me about Austin at this point). We put hurricane shutters up, bring in the outdoor furniture, we actually pretend a hurricane is imminent and make the place as wind and water proof as we possibly can.

I am packing things today and I had to tell you how I feel. It’s heart wrenching. The impermanence of things is inevitable. A true lesson in Zen Buddhism is that attachment to things is bad. How do we not do it? As I walk around my living room I pick up a vase or a trinket that really didn’t cost very much but it’s been around for so many years – should I pack it? Is it replaceable? Is that photo somewhere digitally so I can recreate it? What about that cute frame it’s in – should I just wrap it all up and put it in the box? Some things are obvious and we already have boxes labeled and with bubble wrap in them to just wrap up and take to Austin. It’s those little things that make up a lifetime that are hard for me. It’s the structure of our home, all the time consuming choices we made that make up so much more than just a house, the tile, Zodiac counters, the color of the walls, the custom made cabinets, even the plumbing fixtures and lighting - all of these things could vanish while we are away. What would I do? Would we rebuild? Could I go through that again? It was a year and a half of grueling torture – that’s what it was.

Impermanence – nothing lasts forever – not concrete, not stucco, not those pieces of paper with so many loved ones' faces imprinted, nothing – not even our own bodies last forever. Impermanence is the only thing that lasts.