Section from "The Pine Kneedlers of Bay Shore". (working title)

   
Belinda looked around the "space". Why in the world apartments, or condos or any place where people lived these days was referred to as "space" instead of: "hall" or "room"...made no sense. Supposedly it sounded trendy...or larger. Who knew?

"This is a lovely open space; would work perfectly for your book collection. You could really showcase your collection here. It would be quite the showpiece."

      Since when did having books in shelves comprise a "collection". Why was everything a "showpiece" and small 3 by 5 foot blocks of empty areas considered a "unique space."

      It was bullshit. All of it. On top of that; it was all bullshit in the shade of beige. The "neutral palette" was in fact nothing but different shades of beige. It reminded Belinda of the bland pureed food she had once used a syringe for to push down patient's throats when she was still a nurse on the geriatric service.

      None of this looked like the advertisement. None of this looked like the model. Why would they show people the model and raise their expectations and then bring them into the mashed pureed "space" they wanted you to pay over half a million dollars for. It was indeed, utter bullshit, but Belinda was not the kind of woman to say things like that. Only recently had she become the kind of person who actually thought things like this. Grief can do that to you. Anger can do that to you....apparently getting old can do that to you.

     "So?" asked the optimistic Brittany "sales liaison", who Belinda thought was likely a receptionist who was the only one willing to work on weekends in the off season - but being a "liaison" sounded enticing, cosmopolitan. And after all;  they had made her business cards.  The way Brittany was dressed it didn't appear as though she needed the job. Her purse alone probably cost as much as Belinda's entire wardrobe. She had to stop being so negative. Brittany was probably younger than her own daughter. She knew it wasn't polite to make blanket statements like that; even if they were just thoughts. Blanket thoughts were just as rude.

"Would you like to look at our 3D visual of available lots? They're filling up pretty quickly so it might be a good idea, you know, just in case you wanted to put a deposit on a nice spot before it's taken."

     The hard sale. That is what this was, Belinda thought to herself. Quick. Buy the beige blocks of "space" before someone else did. Someone else with nobody to look with them because they're all alone now and everyone knows nothing makes life exciting for AARP members like beige boxes to huddle in until you're found one day not moving and they can sell your beige "space" for the going rate depending on whether you died during a buyers or sellers market.

     Belinda realized she was in a bad mood. "Don't make decisions during a time of stress" was the advice Cyndi at the Grieving Group gave everyone. Cyndi with an "i" said this frequently. Cyndi wore Crocs, even in the Winter. This would've usually caused Belinda to mildly distrust her; but for some reason it just made her seem more genuine. She had a point. Just like her advice to not go grocery shopping when you're hungry or after you've eaten. You're not making  decisions for the right reasons. At this rate; Belinda wouldn't make a decision for the next 20 years.

     "I think I'll come back next weekend if that's okay?" She said, knowing that it was highly unlikely she would, at least until Cyndi with the Crocs heard about this and brought her back personally. Until then though; there was no need to ruin Brittany's day. After all; she'd left her Sudoku book at the receptionist desk to show Belinda around. It was hard to get back into Sudoku once you stopped, especially if you were on a roll.

     Belinda left and got into her  new non obtrusive 4 wheel drive Subaru. It may have been a sensible choice since two of her three kids had decided to move up north and she'd need it for driving in the snow, but at least she'd bought a red one. They'd had beige, white and gray....but she chose red. Belinda was determined not to buy a car in a color that reminded her of everything her life had recently become.

     Neutral. Stagnant...Pureed.

The Things we Leave Behind

The things we leave behind

Smile at our ignorance
They know they're always there
We pretend we don't know
But we do

They follow you in rare moments of silence

And call your name

There are moments when you catch a glimpse of them

Out of the corner of your eye
In the lyrics of a song
In the fog of a dream
In the eyes of a stranger
In the sound of the rain

And you can choose to look
And listen

Or avert your gaze
Or think of other things
Or turn off the volume
Or cover your ears

But the things you leave behind
Are beside you all the time
And will follow you with vigilance
Until such time
That you become
The thing that's left behind

Chocolate caliente para el alma de las madres - found in Library of Congress in Argentina

Surprising things on a Sunday evening - I was looking on Google for a Wikipedia article on Siberian Huskies that included my book in the index as a resource of information, (which is very strange to me - cool, but strange), and found that a story I wrote for the Chicken Soup for the Soul Series many years ago  in a book called Chocolate Caliente Para el Alma e Las Madres which translates into "Hot Chocolate for the Soul of Mother's"

I think it was Mother's Soul 2 because the title of the story was "Crecer" which translates "To Grow." I have a story about my mother entitled "Growing Up" (Publishers often choose titles and this story was one of my earliest ones. As time went on I was allowed to choose my own titles and do more of my own editing.)

I wonder why hot chocolate for Spanish speaking mothers? Does soup not mean the same thing? Is soup perceived as less soothing as it is in the English speaking parts of the world? Maybe the reputation for chicken soup helping all ills is one that is significant only in certain parts of the world. I, for one, would definitely find hot chocolate pretty soothing, or at least as comforting as chicken soup. I happen to find soft vanilla ice cream sundaes with hot fudge and home made whipped cream topped with a cherry very soothing. Can you imagine that title having to be translated into multiple languages and cultures?

Knowing that people all over the world can read about my mother in their native language, about the obstacles she faced and her amazing courage - along with the ability she possessed to ensure our lives were as normal as possible even though this must've been so incredibly difficult, is so profound to me.
I didn't totally appreciate or understand this until I had children of my own, but isn't that the way it is with most of the really important things in life? You realize things in hindsight so much clearer than when you're in the midst of it.

So, if you happen to be in Argentina, check out the Biblioteca del Congreso de la Nacion Argentina. It's in Buenos Aires and looks like an absolutely beautiful building with multiple activities to get involved with.

Hasta la próxima vez - y me comprometo a comenzar realmente a terminar la secuela. Estoy casi ahí. El amor para todos!

Coming Soon...The Sequel to Tales from a Dog Catcher

                                                  

"I'm ready for more Tales from a Dog Catcher!"

It's taken a number of years. Two thirds of the book has been completed for a while, (pre-final edits), but finally...the sequel to Tales from a Dog Catcher will be coming soon!

Right now it's still a work in progress - but since so much of it has been sitting on my hard drive for years while I was busy with other projects and issues, it shouldn't be too long before it's available. I'm very excited - and I hope you are too. 

Mysteries will be solved. There will be action and adventure, bloodshed (mine), experiences with the super natural, rescues, close calls, reunions, lessons learned, revelations realized, bravery in the most unlikely places and even a possible love interest - and of course as usual -  the requisite odd "only in Annesville NY" situations abound.  They could possibly be more outrageous than the stories from the first book. You be the judge!

You'll laugh more, you'll cry, but most of all I hope you enjoy another set of adventures with the clumsy well meaning animal control officer from Annesville Police Department as she fends off violent joggers, gets stuck in an underground sewer pipe, is sent to the hospital after being attacked, recruited to spy on a motorcycle gang, bumps into a TV legend and more as she experiences a wide variety of humilating but hysterical situations in her efforts to help the animals and people of a small town along the Hudson River. 

Most importantly - the strong and unconditional bond between people and their pets is the major theme throughout the book. I'll keep you updated and I thank you for your continued support. 17, 5 Star Reviews on Amazon, 135 3.8 out of 4 Reviews on Goodreads.com, Library Systems across the world - I can't thank you enough. Your support continues to mean a great deal to me.

Thank you to my readers across the globe. I hope to create another book you will love just as much as the first. 

For All my Twisted Sisters...

I just received a letter from a reader who had been touched by "Tales from a Dog Catcher" in a way that was very different from the usual reader email I get.

This reader touched my heart because she understood firsthand the chapter "Odd Blessings" which is the only chapter in the book that mentions and explains the background of my scoliosis. I included it because it played such an important role in my life in myriad ways - many very positive.

For those of you who read the book, or know me personally, you know I had scoliosis surgery as a teenager and went through braces and casts and all the other exciting adventures one had to go through in the late 70's to treat it. Thankfully there are now amazing newer treatments and surgical options that allow someone with the need for scoliosis spinal fusions with instrumentation to be able to keep their ability to twist and move normally. These improvements also prevent the problems that resulted down the road for those of us with the original Harrington rod surgeries when we began to hit the 30 year mark post surgery.

I realized today that I hadn't mentioned any of this in my blog and that some of my readers who aren't my usual readers, animal lovers or people who enjoy heartfelt stories - but perhaps people who have also traveled the the same road that I have in reference to scoliosis, may need this information.  So this blog entry isn't too funny or profound, but necessary. I hope that there are others who can benefit from feeling that they weren't alone during that time. There are indeed many of us from that era - and I want to thank you Ana, for letting me know how much that chapter meant to you...from our shared experiences from youth to now...we really do truly live parallel lives!

I feel an explanation as to why this blog hasn't been updated as it should ...it also may help others who share my story, or at least get me out of trouble with those who think I've been lazy or irresponsible...although the jury's still out on those last two reasons as well!

In October I had another spinal surgery to fuse the rest of my spine and repair some of the damage caused by the initial 1978 procedure. No one could see that down the road the state of the art surgery for scoliosis in the 1970's would create further problems in the future. At that time it was a miracle that I'll always be grateful for. With that said; I've been "oddly blessed" again by an amazing team - a neurosurgeon and orthopedic surgeon who work together to take on the complicated spine problems us "scoli's" develop as we age when many other major hospitals and orthopedic surgeons are resistant to take the chance.

I am forever grateful to Orthopedic surgeon Dr. Seth Neubardt M.D. and Neurosurgeon Dr. Jack Stern M.D., PhD. of Brain & Spine Surgeons of NY, for being able to not only repair the immediate damage but also halt the progression of my flat-back syndrome which would've resulted in an additional incredibly dangerous and invasive surgery down the road. I went for many consultations and by the time I found them I had lost the ability to walk any further than a few feet. I was using a wheelchair. No doctor would take this on without two separate invasive surgeries that would've resulted in a year-long recuperation with a questionable success rate for someone my age.

Instead - I had surgery in October and was back at work full-time in January back in the classroom!

Thank you Dr. Neubardt and Dr. Stern and the entire staff at the Brain & Spine Surgeons of NY. For anyone on the east coast with similar issues - I highly recommend them. They're not only incredibly talented, but professional and accessible. During Hurricane Sandy, Dr. Neubardt had no power for two weeks, yet he still found the time, during the height of the storm, to check up on me at home from his cell phone.

On a side note - I found a scoliosis Barbie online! I could've really used that as a kid. How cool is that?!
Or creepy...
I think I'll go with cool.

photo courtesy of me :)

Photographer that Gave Amazing Gift to the World...Needs Some of our Love Now

Hannah Stonehouse Hudson and Jim Hudson (c) 2005

Hannah Stonehouse Hudson touched the world. She probably touched your heart and you didn't even know it.

Especially if you are a reader of this blog  - because so many of you are animal rescuers, animal lover's and basically just beautiful compassionate people who understand that animals have souls and that it is our privilege and responsibility to care of them while they're here. To make their lives happy and safe and escort them from puppy or kitten hood to the harder years when they experience a myriad of problems that we all will face some day, if we aren't already facing them now. We can tell someone when we hurt. They can't. Hannah captured this in her famous photograph below. Unfortunately, Hannah lost her 34 year old husband, Jim Hudson, to a tragic accident on January 26th, 2013. .

(c) Hannah Stonehouse Hudson 2012

Please click on this link to help Hannah with expenses and support which she needs now. She not only lost her husband but his business and income and there are so many things she has to deal with now, she needs any help to make this even a tiny bit easier. Below is an article about the accident and more information on the Hudson family.

 http://www.giveforward.com/hudsonfamily

Wisconsin angler, husband of 'John and Schoep' photographer dies after snowmobile goes through ice
Twin Cities Pioneer Press. (c) 2013.

Transitions...Sending my Son to College

You Are Not a Blogger! Accurate Criticism from Luann and an Attempt to Right this Wrong.

I received an email from my best friend Luann who in essence sort of summed up this blog lately with one word. Boring.

Impending Storm. (c) Eric Metzler. 1950's

She's right. I have neglected this blog and I am truly sorry. The simple fact that she still checks it shows you what a loyal friend she is. Never one to mince words as evidenced by her accusation above - I am going to try and write something here that is not boring. Since this is a blog for a nonfiction book, I suppose my post should be nonfiction as well. So, in reference to my exciting life at the moment - I decided to write a brief description of yesterday as it really happened...then I will attempt to jazz it up.

Sunday, August 5th 2012. It was a stormy day. My husband asked me to check accuweather to see how close the storm was. This involved finding the live radar site, refreshing it at intervals since it would freeze, and then tracking the coming storm on the screen as it approached. Apparently I did not do this quickly enough, or well enough, as Jason seemed irritated at the speed at which I was checking the track of the storm. The dog sat on my lap. Finally, the storm arrived and he closed all the blinds in the family room to go stand in the kitchen, where he opened the blinds wide, to watch the storm standing up, several feet away from where he was sitting when he was waiting for the storm. For some reason he felt this made sense.The storm came. There were several comments made about the storm. It ended.

Sunday August 5th, 2012. The darkening sky was ominous. Something in the air hinted at what was to come - the stillness, the absence of sound, a thick, almost palpable sense of dread settled in among us. Watching the approaching storm clouds we knew we were powerless in the path of this monster. Our faithful dog, relying on primal canine instinct, never left my side. She was protecting me as best she could from the impending onslaught. (Not really. She had no clue. She's a pug. The only thing probably going through her mind was "I am comfortable here. Why are you moving around. Since you're up, can you fetch me a snack?")

 My husband, pacing back and forth approached me suddenly and said

 "The radar. Go to the radar!" 

Knowing that this was the only thing we could do as we lay in wait for the inevitable, I quickly punched in the website for accuweather. The computer slowly started trying to load the page. We watched as the circle spiraled - attempting to bring forth accuweather.com - I felt it was mocking us.

"Why?!" Jason yelled, shaking his fist at the sky, (well, ceiling actually...we were indoors and there's the ceiling and then another floor above us, followed of course by the roof unless you don't consider the attic, which of course you should if you're trying to be accurate.) He became increasingly agitated, his pulse visible in the veins of his neck.

"Hit refresh!" He bellowed. (I've always wanted to use the word "bellowed". It's not often one gets the opportunity to use that word. I just may use it twice.)

"I did!" I bellowed back. (See.)

Finally, the page for accuweather.com came forth, (much more dramatic than"loaded" don't you think?), and the truth was laid out before us. Any hope that we would avoid this storm was stripped bare. (Stripped and bare....how about that. I'm SO like that 50 Shades of Grey writer except that I'm not a gazillionaire.)

In the same instinctive way men of past generations have prepared to save their families from the wrath of mother nature, Jason battened down the  hatches. (Read "closed the blinds."). The wind picked up, whistling through the trees, ( I really couldn't hear the wind because the windows were closed.)

"Don't look!!" I bellowed. (That was too much wasn't it? Twice was good, three times not so much.) I cried.

"Why?! WHY!!!?" Jason yelled, cursing the storm. (This is actually the truth. I told him that this was akin to that line about it being futile to curse the darkness which I thought was not only an astute observation on my part, but also pretty witty. He did not seem to find me as witty as I find myself and just looked at me and said "Huh?".)

The storm was upon us, wailing against our home - and then almost as suddenly - it was gone. We hugged each other, knowing that next time, we might not be so lucky. (That didn't happen. What really happened is that it was still raining in our yard, yet the sun was shining in the field behind our house and Jason, for some reason, did not approve of this. I think he said something to the effect of; "What the hell is this?")

We grasped hands and silently walked out to survey our territory. (We have like a HUGE amount of land...almost the size of Vatican City. I think it's like almost an acre!) Jason put his arm around my shoulder and said "Look, the sun is shining for us.". (Actually he stayed on the deck suspiciously eyeing the horizon and I said something like "This is cool." and walked down to stand in the sun shower, expecting him to follow and join me in appreciation of this rare and rather unique situation. He did not. Rather he asked me if bees can fly in the rain and I said "I don't think so." Thinking back on this I probably should've said "I don't know", because I really don't know. When people ask you about bees you should probably know what you're talking about. I'll note that for next time.)

As I turned back to watch the storm clouds receding and sun beaming through the light rain, Jason beamed at me (read "glared"), and gave me a knowing look. Yes. We had survived...and we would survive again. He pumped his fist in the air in that easily recognizable gesture of triumph used in many Rocky movies and I smiled. We had not only survived, but thrived. (Don't you love that trite sentence? If you Google it, it comes up all over the place. That's how much people love that sentence.). We would see another day I thought, watching our reflection in our private lake, (okay, it's an above ground pool..but it's one of those oblong ones so it's pretty close to a lake), noticing that my reflection was too thin - I reminded myself that I should eat more, (HAHAHAHAHAHA!).

Our faithful dog galloped through the yard, joyfully claiming her land back from the storm that had threatened to take it all away. (Actually, as you know...she is a pug. She doesn't gallop. She trots around sniffing and snorting, but that doesn't really create the same visual impact.)

Jason once again raised our flag, in symbolic recognition of our victory...and I knew...and he knew....and the dog knew....and AMERICA KNEW!!!!!, (that was good, right?),  that we'd overcome great odds. (We have a flag pole, but no flag. The people we bought the house from took the flag with them. Who does that? Anyway, I keep reminding myself I have to get a flag.). In silent homage, to those who weren't as lucky as us, who perhaps had lost satellite reception or worse...cellphone signals...we stood silently watching the flag wave in the wind. Yes. Life was good. Indeed.

(In reality I turned to talk to him after he asked me about the bees to find that he'd run inside. He ran back outstide...and those of you who know Jason, know that he really does run everywhere..and sprayed behind a piece of vinyl siding where there had been a huge bees nest. "WATCH OUT!" he yelled. "YOU SHOULD BACK UP AND GET AWAY FROM THERE AFTER I DO THIS. THEY'RE GOING TO FLY OUT OF HERE!". He sprayed and flew up the stairs back onto the deck and into the house. One bee sort of crawled out of the siding, like he'd been napping, and then walked back in. I think I might've even seen him yawn a little bee yawn.) Jason came back out and looked sadly at the siding.

THE END.

Okay Luann. How'd I do?   :)

My Appeal for Patience, Understanding, maybe a Box of Milanos...that would be nice.

I just wanted to let everyone know that:

I do love you.
I do want to talk to you.
I mean to return your call but I pass out with my phone in my hand.
I do miss you.
I don't mean to be so cranky.

Now that that's all cleared up - I'm at 55,000 words with 50,000 or so to go. I could bang this out if I didn't have a full-time job with a stress level of 15 on a scale of 1 to 10. I have ideas, paragraphs, a narrative arc, plot lines, endings, beginnings...excitement....I am loving this project...but what I don't have is time. And it's frustrating, although this is just the way it is. Opportunity knocks and you don't say "Hey, can you wait until my summer vacation?" Opportunity would tell you where to get off....although I don't think Opportunity would be that crude about it. I've always thought of Opportunity as sort of refined and well regarded. If Opportunity were at a party, it would wear beige...or something else nice and neutral with maybe one signature piece of jewelry...nothing flashy like Kim Kardashian would wear.

Please don't forget me. I haven't forgotten you....really. I'm just 55,000 words in with 50,000 or so to go and for those of you who know what that feels like, you know what I mean. For those of you who might understand  but not relate...just know that I'm still here...I miss you all very much and I'll call you back soon. :)

Loved this Review from Dogcatanimalcare.com!

Click logo above to go directly to Mary's blog.

Thank you to Mary Smith, an artist and writer from redhotkitties.com for her wonderful review of Tales from a Dog Catcher. 


Thanks Mary...your review really meant a lot to me, especially since you really grasped the theme of my book - that sometimes all we really can do is ""try your best, and cry afterwards."

     An unpretentious volume that you might pass by, if you saw it on the library shelf, this is one of those wonderful discoveries that you will instantly want to add to your animal tales collection! Author Lisa Duffy-Korpics offers a heart-warming-and-rending collection of chapters on special cats, dogs (and other creatures) she saved–or lost–while working as an animal control officer. I found myself devouring each story, connecting with Lisa in each joyful and successful or frustrating encounter.


 I’ve always wanted to be an animal rescue super-hero, able to leap in and make things RIGHT for every animal on earth. Lisa’s stories are a real-life version of this dream, but grounded in stark reality. Sometimes, all you can do is try your best, and cry afterwards. As when we saved our Precious, it was too littIe, too late, but at least we got to love her. I loved this book!! Every good thing counts.