Meet Maggie May of Rod Stewart fame.  My yellow lab of 12 years, Maximus Aurileus, died last summer.  We buried him in the backyard and placed a stone over his gravesite.  The tears I shed over his loss would fill buckets.  All fall and winter,  my husband and I deliberated whether or not to get another dog.  I just knew that I had one more dog in me.  In May my husband and I brought Maggie May, a Welsh terrier pup into our lives.  She is a bundle of joy.  The first day we had her, she raced around the back yard in pure abandon, coming to rest finally atop Max’s gravesite, where she sat, out of breath and panting. It seemed she was laughing and in spite of myself, I couldn’t help but laugh along with her in the pure joy and poignancy of the moment.  It was then I knew that all would be well.  I’d been carrying around my grief over Max’s death long enough.  While I will never forget him, life is meant to be lived and enjoyed.  I knew Max would agree that it was time to move on. So, with Max’s blessing, here we go, Maggie May.  And, I know it will be a great joyous ride.    

“Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” Oscar Wilde    
     At the risk of sounding unimaginative, “It’s a windy day, the water’s white with spray, and if this wind keeps up, the world might blow away.”(Poet unknown)  And, at the risk of sounding blustery, I will report that Maggie May and I braved the bluster of Lake Michigan today.  Unlike the peaceful tranquility of summer, captured here on canvas by artist Jon McDonald, the waves hurtled and churned ashore.  Overhead a swirl of red-shouldered hawks were soaring on the wing. “…and He will raise you up on eagles’ wings…”  A cardinal sang a full throated melody.  “…His eye is on the sparrow…” Oh, to fly like a bird and be free. Oh, to trill away with utter abandon. Woof, woof. OK Maggie… With my feet back on the ground, Maggie and I headed home, but here in the refuge of my house,  I want you to know, part of me is still out there soaring with the hawks and singing with the cardinal.  Wherever you are, on this blustery day, I hope you take time to soar and sing.  That’s pretty wild, I know.  But unimaginative?  What do you think, Mr. Wilde?

At The Risk Of Sounding Unimaginative…

“Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.”

Oscar Wilde

At the risk of sounding unimaginative, “It’s a windy day, the water’s white with spray, and if this wind keeps up, the world might blow away.”(Poet unknown) And, at the risk of sounding blustery, I will report that Maggie May and I braved the bluster of Lake Michigan today.

Unlike the peaceful tranquility of summer, captured here on canvas by artist Jon McDonald, the waves hurtled and churned ashore. Overhead a swirl of red-shouldered hawks were soaring on the wing. “…and He will raise you up on eagles’ wings…” A cardinal sang a full throated melody. “…His eye is on the sparrow…” Oh, to fly like a bird and be free. Oh, to trill away with utter abandon.

Woof, woof. OK Maggie…

With my feet back on the ground, Maggie and I headed home, but here in the refuge of my house, I want you to know, part of me is still out there soaring with the hawks and singing with the cardinal.

Wherever you are, on this blustery day, I hope you take time to soar and sing. That’s pretty wild, I know. But unimaginative? What do you think, Mr. Wilde?

I Love Quirks

I love quirks!  That’s because I have so many. I think quirks keep life interesting.  I tell my husband that if you don’t have quirks you must be a dull person.  He’s not so sure…. Wouldn’t you know he’s a CPA – a business person who likes things neat and orderly – how he married me is a mystery.  For starters, my life is a sequence of piles.  As hard as I try, they keep accumulating all over the house.  Filing cabinets and systems are not useful to me. I like my stuff out in the open not stored away out of sight – because out of sight is out of mind and if I can’t see my stuff, I might forget about it.  The thing is, I can always find what I’m looking for.  That’s because I alphabetize my piles from top to bottom.  Also interesting(quirky)is how I can be talking with someone and flit from one topic to another – it’s the way my brain is wired and it takes a fair amount of talent.  Now, my children have learned to follow me from one subject to another (remember there are no transitions or segways to help), but my husband just can’t keep up with me and it rattles him.  Funny, how I know exactly where I am in our conversation and he’s hopelessly lost.  And, then there’s the issue of time.  He feels a need to be on time, but every time we’re scheduled to be somewhere, I get this energy burst(like I felt on the day I delivered my babies) and bustle about doing little odd jobs around the house or running errands on the way to our destination.  I think it’s a waste of time to be early – to be fashionably late is my way – it’s well, fashionable. There are more, but you get the idea.  I write a children’s series called, Tales From Pelican Cove, portraying nature and shorebirds from Florida and beyond.  I think I find birds interesting, because in the research for my books, I’ve discovered they have quirks too!  Kindred spirits!  In my new book, Presley’s First Day of Fishing, coming out this week, Presley a young brown pelly, puts a little twist into his dive that’s very cool.  In another book, Baldwin, a bald eagle steals fish from an osprey and the osprey, called Ossie, after catching a fish, turns it around in his talons to make his flight home more aerodynamic.  It’s fascinating!  Laughing gulls sit on pelicans’ heads attempting to steal their fish and blue wing teals can spring into flight from a standstill.  Birds, called dabblers upend with tails in the air and nibble off the bottom of a cove or pond.  One day, I noticed a male night heron return home to his shebird with a twig in his beak, where he transferred it to his shebird whereupon she stuffed it down into a pile – did you get that – a pile of twigs that had the makings of a nest.  I’ve also noted that birds flit about – yes, flit and they are very busy and energetic.  I’ve pointed out these notable traits to my husband. He’s not impressed and doesn’t see the relevance to my life at all.  No matter. Welsh terriers are a rare breed, I remind him and I need to write my sister.  Why?  You know she had shoulder surgery yesterday.  Let’s see now, in which pile did I put her address? 

        “I love the house where you live, O Lord; the place where your glory dwells.”  Psalm 26:8

My latest book, Presley’s First Day of Fishing, off the press this week, is the fourth book in my Tales From Pelican Cove series, portraying nature and the spectacular shorebirds of Florida and beyond.  Presley is a juvenile brown pelly out fishing for the first time all by myself!  The story is a heartwarming educational and entertaining tale about Presley and a laughing gull that steals his first fish.  I learned many things about pellies that I didn’t know before writing this book.  For instance, did you know that brown pelicans are different from white pelicans because they dive and scoop their fish, while white pellies herd the fish into an area and then fan them to the surface where they are easily caught and eaten.  Also I learned that pelicans like Presley twist their bodies just before they sploosh into the water – Presley forgot to twist the first time he dove and ended up in a bellyflop that hurt him and his pride.  Presley is available at Principia.com or at my website www.janethasselbring.com  “I love the house where you live, O Lord; the place where your glory dwells.”  Psalm 26:8

On Quirks

I love quirks!

That’s because I have so many. I think quirks keep life interesting.

I tell my husband that if you don’t have quirks you must be a dull person. He’s not so sure…. Wouldn’t you know he’s a CPA – a business person who likes things neat and orderly – how he married me is a mystery.

For starters, my life is a sequence of piles. As hard as I try, they keep accumulating all over the house. Filing cabinets and systems are not useful to me. I like my stuff out in the open not stored away out of sight – because out of sight is out of mind and if I can’t see my stuff, I might forget about it. The thing is, I can always find what I’m looking for. That’s because I alphabetize my piles from top to bottom.

Also interesting(quirky)is how I can be talking with someone and flit from one topic to another – it’s the way my brain is wired and it takes a fair amount of talent. Now, my children have learned to follow me from one subject to another (remember there are no transitions or segways to help), but my husband just can’t keep up with me and it rattles him. Funny, how I know exactly where I am in our conversation and he’s hopelessly lost.

And, then there’s the issue of time. He feels a need to be on time, but every time we’re scheduled to be somewhere, I get this energy burst(like I felt on the day I delivered my babies) and bustle about doing little odd jobs around the house or running errands on the way to our destination. I think it’s a waste of time to be early – to be fashionably late is my way – it’s well, fashionable.

There are more, but you get the idea. I write a children’s series called, Tales From Pelican Cove, portraying nature and shorebirds from Florida and beyond. I think I find birds interesting, because in the research for my books, I’ve discovered they have quirks too! Kindred spirits!

In my new book, Presley’s First Day of Fishing, coming out this week, Presley a young brown pelly, puts a little twist into his dive that’s very cool. In another book, Baldwin, a bald eagle steals fish from an osprey and the osprey, called Ossie, after catching a fish, turns it around in his talons to make his flight home more aerodynamic. It’s fascinating! Laughing gulls sit on pelicans’ heads attempting to steal their fish and blue wing teals can spring into flight from a standstill. Birds, called dabblers upend with tails in the air and nibble off the bottom of a cove or pond. One day, I noticed a male night heron return home to his shebird with a twig in his beak, where he transferred it to his shebird whereupon she stuffed it down into a pile – did you get that – a pile of twigs that had the makings of a nest.

I’ve also noted that birds flit about – yes, flit and they are very busy and energetic. I’ve pointed out these notable traits to my husband. He’s not impressed and doesn’t see the relevance to my life at all.

No matter.

Welsh terriers are a rare breed, I remind him and I need to write my sister. Why? You know she had shoulder surgery yesterday. Let’s see now, in which pile did I put her address?