Sophie's Story

   The commercialization of Christmas has finally got to me. I'm tired of seeing ads for the perfect present. Tired of watching people crowd malls looking for the best deal on the hottest thing. Tired of hearing about a certain store who had a data breach.   The truth is I've been tired of it for several years now. I've had less and less time to go out and shop and no idea of what people want. Mostly it seems people want money or gift cards. The whole wrap it in paper and watch as someone unwraps it is out the window. Now it is just hand over the cash or gift card and hope the person doesn't look at and say, "That's it?!" No fun.   C and I have been asking each other what we want for Christmas. Neither of us really wants anything. We have enough clothes. We have enough books, music, towels, blankets and kitchen items. I don't need another hat and C doesn't need another tie. Even if I had time to shop I just wouldn't know what to get him. H

   This column is probably going to get me in trouble. I know it and I accept that. I'm probably going to make a few people angry. I know that and I accept that as well. There are a few things that have gone on this week that violate some of my principles and I simply cannot stand by and say nothing.    Earlier this week the network A&E suspended Phil Robertson, of the show "Duck Dynasty", for remarks he made during an interview with GQ magazine. Personally I find it a bit amusing that he was interviewed as I always thought of GQ as something read by men in custom made three piece suits who play polo on the weekends, but that is another matter.    During the interview he was asked to define sinful behavior. He did. He listed homosexuality,adulterers, slanderers,drunkards and swindlers. It was, of course, the first item on the list that got him in trouble. You can't say that in public. Saying something like that will get you fired, vilified, demonized and in mor

   The Ward Christmas party was last Sunday and I needed to bring a dish to pass. Since I was going to be working that entire weekend, it needed to be either something simple that C could make or something that could be made in a crock-pot. The main dish was going to be ham, so we needed something that would go with ham. We had talked about several possibilities. We could bring homemade macaroni and cheese or some sort of potato dish. I told C to let me know as I would need to buy some items. I needed to know by the end of the Thursday evening shift.    The deadline came and I did not hear anything from C. He was swamped with several other projects and was feeling overwhelmed. I was facing an entire weekend of work and the shame of attending a church party empty handed.   On Friday night in desperation I looked in crock-pot cookbooks for something we could bring. It had to be something that didn't require a shopping trip and it had to be easy. It came down to two choices, blac

   Recently I received a couple of very nice journals as presents. This brings the total number of bound journals I own up to about five.   The problem is I'm not quite sure what to do with them. That sounds pretty silly doesn't it. It's obvious what you do with a journal, you write in it. I shouldn't have a problem with this. After all I've been writing this column for roughly four years. I think I can say that I am a writer.   Except for to do and grocery lists, I've never been much for writing things down every day. I don't lead any kind of exciting life where it would make sense to keep a journal. It would be different if I travelled a lot, or discovered new things or was a performer and kept track of my performances. It would be different if I had children. Then I could write about my experiences in the hopes that they could read it and maybe learn from it. The fact of the matter is that that I'm pretty ordinary and if anyone would find my journ

     We're in a cold snap. I have just looked at the thermometer and it says -9 degrees outside. Most people would be complaining about this. I am not one of those people. I am one of those insane folks that lives in this part of the country by choice. I personally believe that cold weather is good for you. Today I am going to give some reasons why cold weather is a good thing.    I am an introvert. This means that, while I do like to be around people, for my own sanity's sake I need a little time where I am either alone or not around a lot of people. Cold weather is my friend. No one expects you to go out in cold weather. It provides all kinds of polite excuses for avoiding social contact. Your car won't start. You're feeling a little under the weather and the cold air makes it worse. No one would think twice about such excuses when the temperature is 5 degrees Fahrenheit or below. This means that I can have the quiet space I need so I can function better when I am

   I think Musak gods have been listening to me and for once they are being merciful. For the last I don't know how many years I have been enduring endless renditions of Christmas music starting promptly the day after Thanksgiving. One year the music started the day after Halloween.    The result of this is that I don't like most Christmas music and seldom play it at home. It's a shame because I have amassed a nice collection from Christmas lounge music to Mannheim Steamroller to James Taylor. I put them in my home CD player more because it is expected than out of genuine desire to listen to them. When C and I have to play something for a Christmas program at church practicing is a chore because the last thing I want to hear at home is more Christmas music.   This season is different. Several months ago the Keeper of the Musak, whoever that is, decided that any music played in the store would be strictly instrumental. This has a couple of advantages. The biggest one is

  Hello!     This is Scamp. Colby and I have decided to give Sophie a break and wrote the column this week. Since it is Thanksgiving, we are going to write about the things that we are thankful for. Yes, cats can feel grateful. We just think that it is in poor taste to show that gratitude too often. Our humans may take us for granted.   Since I am already at the computer, I will start. I am thankful for my grooming comb and brush. My new grooming comb is very nice. It has rounded metal teeth that don't scratch my skin. It also doesn't tug or pull quite as hard as my old comb does. The brush is nice too. I like it when Sophie lets me rub the sides of my face against the brush. It feels good especially against my whiskers.    We got a new water fountain this year too. It is shiny and not plastic like our old one. Sophie says that it will be easier to keep clean. I like it because there is a place where the water comes out and it streams into a bowl. I like licking at the wat

   Something was missing. I noticed that after the paper ghosts and witches were removed from my store the day after Halloween the ceilings were bare. That's not usual. At this time of year there is always some sort of decoration.   I looked in the seasonal aisle and found my answer. The seasonal aisle was filled with Christmas candy. The missing decoarations were the turkeys and cornicopias that are associated with Thanksgiving.   Of course, it all makes sense now. No one wants to put up Thanksgiving decorations when the whole focus should be solely on Christmas. Thanksgiving isn't really important. It's almost in the way. Why should we have to be inconvenienced by this nothing of a holiday? There are deals to be had, money to be spent and profit to be made. Yes, we all like the day off, but what good does it do us if we can't go out and shop. Really. People who work retail should know that the most important thing is to get all the good stuff while it is still on

   Bishop Nealy handed me a packet of papers in a clear plastic folder. It contained notes written to me by people in the Church during a recent meeting. I thanked him and took the packet.    The next morning I got up early and took the packet into the kitchen. There, with a warm cup of tea beside me, I read each of the notes.   Tears ran down my face as I read them. Not because they were mean-spirited, in fact it was the complete opposite. I was described as "amazing", "a beautiful spirit","a great example" and "a forgiving, loving person". Many of the notes expressed gratitude for being a friend, for being supportive and for being virtuous.    I looked over the papers again after I had read them. It wasn't some bizarre practical joke. The notes were all in different handwriting and signed. I recognized all of the names and knew all of them were at the meeting. I know each person that wrote a note. I know some of them well. I was very c

   Recently my friend, Sherri, sent me two pictures via email. Both of them were pictures of us from many, many years ago. The first one was a picture of Sherri and I with an older man standing behind us. The older man was Grandpa Bill. Sherri and I, unlike most of out classmates, did not have grandmothers and grandfathers that lived nearby. Sherri's grandparents lived in South Dakota and mine lived in Wisconsin. We had somehow adopted or were adopted by Grandpa Bill and his wife, Grandma Clare, and looked to them as substitute grandparents. We both spent many happy times with them.    The second was of the two of us. There was snow in the background and we were dressed in coats and white boots. Each of us had a small pail of snow in our hands. In the subject line of the email Sherri wrote, "Remember this?"   I didn't remember anything about those two pictures. I didn't recognize any of the backgrounds in either picture. I have no idea who could have taken th

   One I the things that I get to do once a month is to teach a Relief Society lesson. Relief Society, for those of you that don't know, is the women's organization for those that belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. LDS women  over age 18 are members of Relief Society.   Every Sunday RS meets for about an hour. Someone is designated to present a lesson each Sunday. This coming Sunday is my turn to teach the lesson.   This is one of my favourite things to do. I love to teach. I always look forward to the Sundays that I get to teach. There is a manual that I follow and this Sunday  the lesson is titled, "Loving God more than we love the world." I can see I'm about to lose some of you. You're thinking, "Oh no. She's going to preach to us." Keep reading for a bit please.   When I read over the lesson the first thing that came to me is that this is a lesson about priorities. What is important to us. The next thing that came

   Today was a cold,rainy day I had been away from home all day. Once I got home, I answered some emails and did some other computer stuff. It was 4:30 when the telephone rang. It was c calling to see if I was home and to let me know that he would be home in half an hour.    "Do you have your heart set on chicken tortilla soup tonight?" I asked.    "Why do you ask?" replied C.    "Would you be interested in going to Café Latte for supper?" I said    "You'll have to twist my arm," C said.    I could hear the smile in his voice. I knew I wouldn't have to twist too hard. Café Latte is one of C's favourite places.    "I'll pick you up at ten after," he said. Then he hung up.    It's not that I don't like to cook. I do, very much so. I just didn't feel like cooking tonight. I knew that C would like really like a good bowl of soup and Café Latte always has good soup.    The first time I went to Café Latt

   One of the things that we do every year when we go to Door County is make a trip to Green Bay. We've looked at museums, churches and parks. We've eaten at a few good restaurants. There is one place that we go to without fail no matter what.   Lambeau Field. This is the mecca for every Packer Fan. Football isn't a game in Green Bay. It's a religion and the shrine is Lambeau Field. If you go there and enter through the Miller Brewing gate the first thing you will see is two huge statues. One is of Curly Lambeau who helped to found the team and was it's first coach. He has one arm stretched out to the side to point at the other statue which is of coach Vince Lombardi, one of the most influential coaches in football. His quotes are still used as motivational tools and his name is on the trophy given to the teams that win the Super Bowl. These two figures set the tone for the rest of what is inside.   Inside the Miller gate is an atrium. It's a large open spa

   This is the tenth time that C and I have packed our bags and headed east into Door County. The first time we came here we had been married for about two months. I wanted to take C to this part of the country. I had travelled here a few times alone and liked it very much. I wanted to share it with C who had never been out here.    We stay at the same place every year. The reason we do this is because it is not on a main road, but is not isolated. The room is large enough for us and all the things we bring which sometimes includes instruments. It has a lovely view of the sunrise in the morning with a forest below. There are four rooms so it is quiet and peaceful. We have met a lot of interesting people over the years. There was a funeral director and his wife, a young couple who were lawyers in Chicago. We met another couple who took their honeymoon here and were enjoying a long weekend while their children stayed with their grandparents. We met people from from all over the area a

    The Fall Fest took place in Sister Bay this weekend. C and I have been lucky that it takes place while we are on vacation. I enjoy looking at the craft booths. I always look for a woman who knits hats and decorates them with gorgeous pins. There are all kinds of jewelry, hair accessories, clothes, soaps, lotions and decorative home items. It's a great place to watch people. There are people of all ages wandering around with beverages and food int their hands. It's also a good place to dog watch. Many of the dogs wear sweaters or Packer attire. Bands play music in front of the bars. There is a mechanical bull.    I found the hat maker and purchased a new black hat. I looked at some interesting hair items. There was a booth selling loose potpourri. I stopped to smell it. I love potpourri, but Scamp and Colby like to play it so I can't keep it around. C was milling in the crowd with his new camera looking for good shots. We were both having a good time.    C and I had

   It was Wednesday afternoon and I was pretty sure my hair was standing on end. I was midway through my once a week 12 hour shift and it was not going well. People had been coming in all day and my tech and I were struggling to catch up. Prescriptions were pouring in as if someone had turned on a fountain. Added to that were a lot of customers coming in for flu shots.    I finally got to eat my first meal since breakfast at about 6:30 PM. I didn't want to stop, we were way too far behind for me to take a break, but I was really hungry and knew that if I didn't take the time to eat I would be sorry later. I left behind a pile of work and a note for my boss to let him know that I would be in early to clean up the mess.    After Toastmasters, I skipped the after meeting social time and went home as fast as I could. I found some work clothes, made a quick dinner and left for work. It took me about two hours, but I finally got caught up.     The next week was more of the same.

   When I log into BlogSpot to write this column a list of others who write pops up. I have it set up this way so I can see the newest posts. One of them is a cartoonist. His cartoons are funny, witty sometimes a bit baffling and probably understood only by those who belong the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.   One of the reasons why I like him is because he makes church things funny. His humour is not mean, derogatory or insulting. He simply points out everyday things with humour.   Every time I log on I look for a new cartoon. He used to post a new one at least once or twice a week. It's been over a month since a new one has been posted.   I can understand why he might be taking a break. He might have things going on that are taking up all his time. Drawing the cartoon might be a hobby for him and he may need to focus on those things that build income at the moment. Maybe he's suffering from some major writers block. Maybe he's working on something real

   Once in awhile I can't think of anything to write about. I feel pretty lucky because it doesn't happen often. Today seemed to be one of those days.    Then I remembered something that I would like to write about. This past weekend was General Conference for those who belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. C played a talk by Dieter Uchtdorf, who is Second Counselor to the president of the church. It was a good talk. It started out with a story about how he was skiing with his 12 year old grandson. He (President Uchtdorf) hit a patch of ice and fell. He tried to get up, but was unable to. He sat there thinking about the people who would ski by and see him down on the ground. Then his grandson came up, extended his hand and said, get up Opa you can do it. (I'm not sure I have it correct so I didn't want to put in quotation marks.) President Uchtdorf took the proffered hand and stood up. He was amazed because a few minutes before he had no idea ho

   Hi! This is Scamp. It looks like I've been shut into the computer room so I thought I would go ahead and write the column for this week.   I was pretty sure that Sophie saw me come in while she was checking her email. I didn't curl up in my favourite spot in the closet. I was sitting right on the ironing board where I could not possibly be missed. She has developed this bad habit of not telling me when she is leaving the room. Then she shuts the door and I am shut in.   It's very annoying. She knows that I can't reach the door knob. The whole lack of an opposable thumb thing is also a challenge. I really need to work on training her a little bit better.   I thought that she was going to come back into the room. She does that sometimes, especially two weeks ago when she hurt her back. It was too hard for her to sit in the chair for long periods of time. She would leave and then come back. Since she closed the door behind her, I don't think she is coming back,

   I was talking with some friends after Toastmasters the other day. We were sharing some childhood stories. I shared one about a guy I knew growing up named Jon. Jon has always been a mystery to me. Starting from about second grade on we really disliked each other. It was so bad that the school district made sure that we were never in the same class together. The mysterious part of it is that I have vague memories of us being friends at one point in time. For a long time I didn't know what happened to change that. About 15 years or so ago I was talking to my mother about it. She said that Jon had been teased by his older brother for having a "girlfriend" and that is what started it.   After  finished my story I explained that Jon were more or less enemies all through our school days. I also said that I felt bad for him, I'm sure he was bullied in school too, probably worse than I was. Someone remarked that we could have  helped each other.   That was a thought I

   I wasn't going to write about Miley Cyrus and her performance at the Video Music Awards a few weeks ago. Way too much ink both real and electronic have been used on this matter. However, I'm finding it hard to keep my mouth shut about this. I know that I sound like a middle aged grump and I don't care.     I am part of the group that did not like, appreciate or approve of that talked about performance at the VMA. I didn't see the whole thing and I'm glad I didn't. The "costume" in and of itself was enough to make me cringe and the still photos I saw were enough to make my stomach turn. I completely and totally reject the idea that it was artistic, groundbreaking or praise worthy. I consider it crass, crude and deplorable. There was only one reason and one reason only why she did what she did. It was to get attention.   That it something I've noticed the last few years. Once upon a time a performing artist became popular because of talent. Pe

   Scamp had to to the vet this morning. He was past due for his annual exam and shots. Time just got away from me. He doesn't handle these appointments very well, so they need to knock him out in order to examine him and give him his vaccines.   I thought this was going to be an all day process so I planning on returning for him about lunchtime. The vet tech told me that it would be about 15 minutes. There was a coffee shop not too far away from the vet's office. I told the vet tech that I would have a little breakfast and then return when Scamp was ready to come home.   There was only one patron in the shop when I got there. The man behind the counter said he would be with me shortly. He needed to make more coffee. That was fine with me. I wasn't ready to order. I needed to see what was on the menu. There were a couple of sandwiches, a hash platter, oatmeal and pastries. I chose an egg, bacon and cheese sandwich and some herb tea to drink. I pulled out my card to pay

   Bishop Nealy and I have been emailing back and forth. I'm not sure why I said it, but in one of my notes I wrote that I was unlikely to change much now.   He replied that it was funny that I had brought up the subject of change. He recently had a conversation with someone who told him that most people are the way they are going to be at age 18 and don't change much after that.   This bothered him and I can understand why. A big part of our faith is being able to change. I would venture to say that a big part of Christianity in general is the ability to change. The ability to change the way we act, talk and treat ourselves and others. The ability to turn away from destructive behavior and turn to better ways.    I'm baffled as to why anyone would think that a person is fully formed at age 18 and doesn't change. It doesn't make sense. Eighteen years is only about  a fourth of the usual life span. To say that some one is going to be mostly the same for 3/4 of

   C and I were looking over my vacation time in preparation for our annual vacation when I realized that I had not heard about the two extra days I requested off. When I contacted the scheduler she told me that there was no coverage available and that I should try to work out the schedule with my boss.    I felt sick. I told C that maybe he should drive to our destination alone and I would drive up there myself two days later when my vacation started. C didn't think that was practical. It wasn't a good idea to take two cars, especially if we ran into bad weather. The trip there is part of the fun and he didn't want to miss out on that. It was a trip that we had made every year for nine years together and he didn't want to go there without me.    I tried to explain to him that it was really best to do what I suggested. I didn't want him to miss out on two days of the trip. He stood firm. No. He told me to talk to my boss.    I didn't want to do that. It'

  Hi! This is Colby. I decided that I wanted to write the column today because I want to talk about what is going on at my house.   A week ago Sophie and C started moving furniture out of the dining room. They took all the glasses out of the cabinet and all of the teacups out of the display case. Then they moved the dining room table. I didn't like that. I like the dining room table. I like to lay under it and take naps.   All of the furniture was moved around. Our cat  trees were moved downstairs. Why did they move them downstairs. We can't see out of the windows with the cat trees downstairs! What were they thinking?! They moved my little spare bed, our toy box and all of our stuff into the basement. I didn't know what was going on.    Sophie explained to us that we were going to have a wood floor put in and that everything needed to be moved. I wasn't sure I liked that. The carpet is soft and fun to dig into with my claws. We can't do that with wood.    Sop

   A couple weeks ago I told C that I was halfway to 50.   "No, you're not," he said.    "I am too. I'll be 45 this year," I replied.    "44, actually," he responded.    "Really?" I asked.     "Do the math. You're 43 right now," he said.     I did the math and sure enough, he was right. I had done it again. Whenever anyone asked me how old I was the past year,I said that I was 44.    The last time I did this was when I was 38. I was telling everyone that I was 39. I was in the beginning stages of planning a 40th birthday party for myself when C reminded me that I was a year early. I spent two years telling people that I was 39. My friends probably thought I was either in dential or trying to imitate Jack Benny.   I have no idea why I do this. Usually when a woman lies about her age she lowers the number, not raises it. In fact I'm not even sure a woman is allowed to give an actual number. It is 30 something or