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Perhaps you remember my definition of a frozen moment from a couple of posts ago.  If not, let me refresh your memory: I get these moments burned into my mind, as if I have a photographic memory but only for a moment, and I can go back and look at the picture later.  The one from the recent post was the ferris wheel at the county fair that I rode with Ben.  I’ve got that permanently stuck in my memory.  It’ll be there when I’m 97 and can’t remember my own name.  When I can’t walk or read or dress myself.  It’s better than a camera — it’s like I have the picture with me, forever.

I have lots of these “frozen moments.” The first one I remember is of sitting on a stool in our kitchen in Oak Ridge, TN, eating a marshmellow and pretending it was a garbage can.  I’d bitten the top of the marshmellow off almost all of the way so that it could ‘open’ like a trash can with a lid.  I was so proud of myself!

But the reason I’m bringing this up is because three years ago, *exactly*, I had another one.  Ben was travelling — he was in Massachusetts — and I was home alone.  =(  However, making the best of my isolation, I packed up the pups and drove out to the Peak-to-Peak highway to watch its slow conversion from a dying green forest to a yellow majesty.  There’s a spot up there, about three miles north of town, where the colors are simply *amazing*.  The highway overlooks a grove of aspen measured in hundred of acres.  At this time, the trees are beginning to turn, and the mountain looks as if it’s on fire.  I felt very secure; sure, we were living in strange new town, with strange new people, and a strange new job, but life felt very good.  I had Chaco (… and Bonzo), my husband loved me, we’d found a church in which we felt at home, a beautiful house … what else could I possibly need?

I remember wondering why I was cherishing that feeling.  The next day, my world changed.  Forever.

I had my first stroke.  (Or my second, depending on if you count my “TIA” as a stroke.)

I would not feel awake again … ever?  (Please, please, let the exhaustion pass.  Please.)  I would never again enjoy noisy places.  Parties are a thing of the past. Concerts?  Thanks, but no thanks.  Being outside in the sunshine?  Goodness, no.  The sun is too strong, and my eyes are too weak.  Writing anything by hand?  Not unless you’ve got very good close-up vision — or have +3.00 dioptor glasses on hand.

But what do I have now?  Well …

I’ve calmed down.  A LOT.  Before my strokes, I was an “orga-nazi”, Ben’s term for “organized like a nazi.”  By nazi, I mean … well, nazi.  I’d take the books out of my bookshelf and reorganize them so that they were NEAT.  I’d clean out files on my computer in the same fashion.  Even my PICTURES were organized: some on the computer, some in books of slides that I culled through.  I’m pleased to be less nazi now than I was back then (though I’d take ~10% of it back if I had the choice).

Furthermore, now that I’ve calmed down, our marriage is way better!  This must seem counter-intuitive most of you chronic-illness / caretakers in relationships out there; I know that it doesn’t usually help to get sick.  For us, though, my “condition” (because the word “illness” doesn’t really fit) has been a blessing.

Finally, I’ve got a job that I love.  Teaching is something that I’ve always enjoyed, but I didn’t know how much until today.  I was explaining the slope-intercept form (y = mx + b) of linear equations to my three students, and they not only got it, they loved it.  They enjoyed it!  They asked questions!  They stayed after class was over to finish up the problem we were working on — voluntarily!  I don’t know that I would’ve had the guts to go into teaching if I hadn’t been forced out of my previous position by the strokes.

So, in summary, when you’re faced with winter and everything green around you is dying, remember that you’ve got a sunny day with the leaves on fire to enjoy, and take heart: the world isn’t ending.  For in a couple of months (or seven, if you live up here like we do), spring will dawn and everything will wake up again.  Grass will sprout, trees will bud, flowers will bloom, birds will sing, bears will awake from their hibernations, and life will continue.

Peace =)

Have you seen the TV ads for Quaker Protein Bars?  They’re rather annoying; they depict a bunch of kids playing soccer, and then the Quaker Guy standing as goaltender.  Anyway, I’d like some of those bars.  I really would.  But … our grocery stores have never heard of them.  Protein is very important for my brain; there are times when, before dinner, I’m exhausted. As in too tired to get off the couch and MAKE dinner. Then, after I eat, it’s like — BAM!!! I’ve got energy!

I’ve been in three — no, five! — stores in the past month, and I always end up standing at the customer service desk and arguing with them.

“Excuse me, do you carry Quaker Protein Bars?”

“Um … if we have ‘em, they’d be on aisle 9.”

“Yeah, I’ve looked there.”  (Which doesn’t mean they don’t exist.  Especially when I’m tired, I have a hard time picking things out of a large, messy interface.  So just because I didn’t see them doesn’t mean they don’t carry them.)  “Could you look it up on the computer, please?”

{Grumbles as if I’ve asked him to please move Greenland down to the equator.}  “Uh … Quaker Oatmeal … Quaker Bars!  Aisle 12!”  {A sly look of satisfaction crosses his face.}

“And those are *protein* bars, not just the regular Quaker cereal bars?”

“Oh … uh, no.  You want protein bars?”

“Yes, please.”

{Checks again in the computer.} “We don’t have those.”

So I’m asking you, my dearest blog readers: do stores in your areas carry such delicacies?  And if so, would you mind sending me some?  I’ll pay you back.  I’d like the chocolate peanut butter flavor (because there is no pure chocolate flavor), please.  Thank you.

A lot has happened with the dogs as of late.  A week ago Tuesday, we had another round of Newfie Playdate, or Newfie Wrestling, as might be more aptly termed.  That was fun!  I arrived first with Zamba.  As I was walking toward the field, I took off her leash.  She walked right along side me for about 15 steps so that I got nice and confident that she was following me.  Then, without any warning, she took off.  Umm …

Well, she headed straight for the river.  By the time I caught up with her, she was already fully submersed.  She was fine; it was me who had the heart attack.  I was proud to see her swimming, though!  She’s very good at it.  I didn’t get her picture in the three-foot-deep section, but here’s one to give you an idea of what she was doing:

Kiki arrived next.  “Oh, another dog!  Who could it be?”

“It’s Kiki!  My sister! We’re going to eat each other’s brains out!”

Ben made nice with Nina, the Landseer:

“Ooh, that smells good. Can I have some? Please?”

Here’s one just for fun. Zamba was hanging out on the grass, and just as I was about to snap her picture she walked towards me.

And here’s the whole crew. From left to right, that’s: Lucas, Nina, Zamba with the funny head tilt, and Kiki, turned away from Zamba to cut down on attacking.

But the fun continues … yesterday, the groomer came! Yes, the groomer! Chaco hates the groomer. So much that he tried to jump off the grooming table during his blow-drying session and nearly hanged himself. Zamba? She LOVES the groomer. *Loves* her. To the point that I had to ask Zamba to stop licking her face so that she could do her work. I got solely movies from the grooming session (which lasted two hours!), but here’s an after shot of my two beautiful pups:

And here’s one more of Zamba, hanging out by the fireplace circa two weeks ago:

I start my job tomorrow. I’m a bit nervous about sleep — two nights ago, I slept *terribly*, and I’m worried that the same will happen tonight — but I’ve calmed down about the rest of my worries. Hopefully, teaching will be fun! Still, keep those fingers crossed for me, if you don’t mind. =)