When I was a teenager, we had a Great Dane. She was a regal looking fawn colored dog, but she didn’t know she was a dog. She was my constant companion, sleeping on my feet at night. She loved to accompany me as I walked through the woods each weekend. My family went to Paw Paw Creek on Lake Texoma for weekend getaways, and during the fall and winter my main occupation was hiking.

Hullabaloo never let me leave the house without her. I can see her now in my mind’s eye, with her tongue hanging out galloping through the trees and across fields. We had a good time together, that dog and I.

But one, day she went waltzing across the trailer camp by herself. When she passed the neighbor’s house, their yappy chihuahua came charging out at Hullabaloo. That dang chihuahua was always annoying, and I guess Lu had just about had enough. She picked up the chihuahua in her mouth and spat it back out. I don’t think she intended to hurt the little dog, but the skin of it’s back caught on Lu’s eye tooth and almost ripped the chihuahua’s back off. The little rat survived after hundreds of stitches, but it’s owner was apoplectic and insisted that we get rid of Lu.

My Mom and Dad agreed to it. Cousin Jerry had always loved her, so my Daddy decided to give Hullabaloo to him. Though the decision was made, and I darned well knew it, my Momma asked me how I felt about it.

I was a teenager. I had to be “macha.” So, I stuck out my chin and said, “I don’t care. I don’t like the dog anyway.”

It was a lie. My heart ached. But, I refused to let anyone see me cry. On the day my cousin came to get the dog, I refused to leave my room to tell her goodbye. I only saw her one more time.

My heart still aches when I think about that dog. I wish I hadn’t been so “macha.” I don’t know what I was thinking.

Tonight I caught myself being “macha” again. It didn’t last long.

I have a wonderful little cat named “Houdini.” She is aptly named, because she loves to hide and ignore us when we want her. Call her all you want; she won’t show her face. She is skittish and shy. Houdini isn’t much of a “people” cat. She doesn’t like to be held, but if she’s in the right mood she loves to be petted. If I have the cat brush, I can’t get her out of my face. She’ll actually get in my lap if I will comb her silky fur. At night, she loves to curl up on my feet to keep me warm.

Tonight we can’t find her.

She didn’t come out to eat when I opened the can for them this evening. Then, I realized that I hadn’t seen her that morning when I fed the cats their can of food. Last night she didn’t sleep at my feet. This morning, the other cats woke me at an ungodly hour, but I thought they had just decided they were hungry. Now, I realize it was a different kind of yowling.

It’s true, we have a rather large house with lots of hiding places, but we’ve looked in them all three times over. We’ve checked all the closets and under the stairs. There is no Houdini.

Early yesterday morning, I had found the door from the house into the garage open. The cats had gone out there (though the garage scares them to pieces if you try to force them into it). I remember shooing them back inside…but I don’t remember how many came back. Houdini hides so much during the day, that it isn’t unusual not to see her. I have no physical memory of seeing her after that time.

If Houdini was in the garage, she might have escaped outside when I opened the garage door to get to my car. If she got outside, we will never get her back. She won’t come when she is called; she will only hunker down and hide better, especially if she is afraid. Being an indoor cat, I can bet she would be afraid.

If she got outside, the coyotes that roam my yard each night have already found her.

My first instinct, being that “macha” type of gal, was to stick out my chin and say, “One less litter box to clean.” But, I don’t mean it.

I hope that in an hour or two Houdini comes waltzing into the kitchen with a quizzical expression on her face yawning, “What’s all the fuss?”

I don’t think it’s gonna happen. I’m sitting here holding a cat brush, and my macha has just melted into tears.

She contacted me out of the blue back in August. I had been having a bad day with Share A Square, and was feeling a little discouraged. I wrote about it on the blog. Deborah e-mailed me to tell me:

Turns out, she wasn’t talking about the voices in my head; she meant it. She was with me all the way. I called her and we talked for an hour (fortunately I have roll over minutes on my cell phone). Y’all have heard people say, “There’s nothing new under the sun.” Well, when I started Share A Square, I thought it was a new idea. Good thing I didn’t research it on the internet, because there are tons of charity projects that use crocheted squares and rectangles. I might have just joined in on one of those (and I’d have a guest room right now).

Deborah is involved in a project that uses crocheted rectangles. It’s called The Handmade Afghan Project, or HAP, and Deborah has been running this from her home in Maryland since December 2004. I can’t imagine the dedication it takes to carry this on for so long. This project uses 6 x 9 rectangles, (49 for each afghan)crocheted by volunteers, to make afghans that will fit on a hospital bed. Volunteers work to lay out the afghan squares and put them together at “events” held in Maryland. Tons of people turn out to help put together these afghans for our wounded soldiers.

Why in the world would Deborah commit to a project like that?

“Having spent some time in the hospital as a child, I know they can be cold and lonely and since I knit and crochet I also know that afghans can warm the body and soul,” she said. “It seemed a natural combination to start making handmade afghans for those wounded in service to our country.”

So, this is what her house looks like:

And, that’s a heck of a lot neater than mine!

Look at these afghans! Aren’t they beautiful?

You can see many more of the afghans made by these volunteers at http://www.rectangle6×9.shutterfly.com/ As of the middle of this month, the volunteers had produced 899 afghans to send to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, D.D. or to Bagram Airfield Hospital in Afghanistan.

Deborah recently sent out an e-mail to tell about the “community” of volunteers:

The Handmade Afghans to Thank Our Armed Forces Project has become a community of our own with over 400 people involved.

• We range in age from 8 to at least 93 years old
• We are female and male
• We include multiple members of many families
• We cover most religions, political parties and ethnicities
• We have people who crochet, knit, quilt, sew
• and some that do none of these
• We live in 41 states, Washington D.C. and four countries other than the US

Deborah has told me all about the project over the last several months. This busy woman has also been contributing to Share A Square!! She has sent squares and put together afghans. Talk about a giving heart, Deborah has one, for sure.

Why am I telling you about HAP, when I have a project of my own? Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have all the squares we need to complete our afghans (unless another one of them goes AWOL). Many of the Share A Square volunteers still want to contribute, but don’t want to rim squares or make a full afghan. THIS is a project that can use your support. They have “Put Together Events” scheduled for February 3 and April 6.

So, pull out your acrylic yarn and get those crochet hooks flashing. FIRST, visit the website and see how to sign up. They will give you all the information you need and give you instructions for making the rectangles. They have a message board, and send regular updates.

Deborah says, “Each of your rectangles is sending a message of hope and thankfulness.” Sounds good to me.

I’m sending mine:

How about you?

Technorati Tags: Share A Square, crocheted rectangles, Handmade Afghan Project, wounded soldiers, afghans

Doesn’t mean I’m not!

I am working very hard, but evidently some spammer doesn’t know that. There is a “Career Site” that wants me to click on their links very badly. They always have work for me. Tonight, they tell me:

Want to work at Starbucks as a barrista? We recently viewed your resume on-line and feel you would make an excellent addition…[that's all I can read without opening it]

An addition to what? I have no clue. Obviously, they haven’t been reading my blog, or they would know that Starbucks coffee is a drink of last resort. I much prefer my cup of java from the independently owned Jupiter House here in Denton, Texas.

Where would they see my resume? I work for myself! I don’t have to write a resume!

Oh, wait.

I do.

I have to turn in a grant to the Texas Commission of the Arts this month, and I need to write a resume. Dang. Anybody got any goodbull baloney I can write?

Oh, and instead of working on what pays me money so that I can buy baloney, I’ve been working on Share A Square. Go see the new Share A Square web site! It’s not finished, because I am manually transferring articles. But, check it out!

Thanks for your help, Leanne. It should be noted that she did not “design” the site, but she “customized” it. Her blog designs are much more cool than that, but this surely works for what I nee!

Technorati Tags: spam, work, Starbucks, Share A Square, blog designs<