Dancing

Ok, this clip is from my award-winning dance at Luis's birthday party. You can see the panel of three judges seated on the couch at the end of the room. I MIGHT have won because of the skill of my awesomely groovy partner Clarís. Or maybe it was the bribing the judges part... But I prefer to think that Clarís and I won because of my much-coveted ablity to embody the soul and Form (a la Plato) of "dance". You can also see a lot of other people dancing. Luis took the video so you won't see him.

Sunny video

Mommy accidentally shot this footage of Sunny about 2 1/2 weeks before she died. I didn't realize how Sunny's health had deteriorated until I watched it. She is happy, though, just very old and blind :)
Ok, so maybe this is very morbid, but I'm posting the link just in case anybody wants to see it.
I'm gonna post some video of me winning the dance contest at Luis's birthday party as soon as I get around to it.

Katmandu

I found Sunny's body yesterday morning. Gilligan showed me. It was surreal. I got up and dressed and told Gilligan we were going out to find Sunny. So he led me down the driveway and up the road, through my cousin's yard and behind his house, and into the woods in a place I'd never been before. I kept following and Gilligan led me deeper into the woods. A few times I thought, "this can't be right. She would never be way out here." But I kept going. Finally Gilligan started sniffing around the trees in different places. We were in a weird wooded area, a pine stand that had been burned before so the tree bark and ground were black and burnt but there were pine needles carpeting the ground with some honeysuckle and vines too. So everything was orange and black and gray. Then I saw Sunny's little body. She was just lying there. So I carried her back as far as I could and got Daddy to get the truck and we loaded her into the back and drove her home. Daddy helped me dig her a grave in a pretty spot. I wrapped her in one of my shirts. Gilligan was watching, and when I put her body into the grave, he started whining and crying and that's when I cried the hardest.
I don't know what else to say.
I love her a lot.

Sunny's Journey to Katmandu

Sunny disappeared today. I don't know where she is. I searched, but it was dark, and I couldn't find her. I'm going tomorrow to scour the woods.
This morning I gave her breakfast and helped her off of the deck onto the ground and, of course, I told her I love her. Nobody saw her after that.
I hope I can find her in the morning.

Another day...

Sunny's routine got slightly interrupted today because I had to do some solstice shopping and play Scattergories. But she was totally happy when I got home. I picked her up at my Daddy's and drove her home and carried her inside and fed her. But while I was talking on the phone, Gilligan jumped her. I don't know why. Maybe he thought she was trying to get his food. Or maybe he's jealous because she gets so much special attention. He didn't hurt her, but she was scared. He is three times her weight and she's blind and I'm sure she was terrified. So while I was calming her down I noticed that the lump under her right underarm has gotten a LOT bigger. For over a year it has been about the size of a big marble, but today I noticed it's about as big as the bottom half of my palm. Scary.
Anyway, Gilligan didn't try to hurt her (or he would have) and I guess I need to pay more attention to him too.
But Sunny is still hanging in there.
I'm such a loser, I'm even planning my life around keeping her routine intact over the holidays. But she needs me and I can't let her down. She's asleep right now, so all is right with the world :)

sock monkeys

Ok, I have a hit-or-miss history with door prizes. For the most part, they miss me. But I was SOOOO sure I was all set to win this one. It was the big, end of the year, no holds barred, Christmas door decoration contest at my place of work. Now, I knew all along that I would be at the mercy of unknown judges. I was tempted to decorate my door with a model of stonehenge, complete with illuminated sun dangling at the precise angle to cast solstice shadows on the surrounding field, with the quote "Solstice: the REAL reason for the season" and something about Jesus's real birthday being...whenever it was supposed to have been (I was gonna look that one up). But then I thought, "No, the judges will undoubtedly be evangelicals who would not appreciate that one, and the prize is $100..." So I decided to go for a holiday theme that would engage people at an emotional level. I thought and thought and thought, and came up with the obvious choice: sock monkeys. Everybody loves sock monkeys. Or, so I thought. Just mention the word "sock monkey" and most people raised in the south will get a warm-fuzzy feeling and think of their grandmothers or their mothers sewing away at the loveable toys that they clutched in their grubby little hands as children. I was surprised to talk to an African-American co-worker from Mississippi who had never heard of sock monkeys, so maybe they're an anglo-american, rural, southern phenomenon.
But sock monkeys alone didn't seem to be enough. Then I thought: The Nutcracker! Perfect! The tune is eating away at my brain even now.
My brain-busting idea for a seasonal door decoration, the dance of the suugarplum sock monkey fairies, complete with pink tissue-paper tutus and with a close-up shot of all my coworkers and bosses gracing the faces of each little monkey, seemed a sure-fire winner. I thought the final result was FABULOUS. And I was already counting my winnings. "This year," I thought, "This year will be MY year!" I'd lost the competition once before when I was sure I would win, but I didn't think that the unthinkable could happen yet again.
I knew I was up against some fierce competition. Across the hall, my friend Heidi had constructed an absolutely gorgeous gingerbread-house door, complete with giant candycane porch-step rails. I also suspected some last-minute technological miracles from Stacy in the next hall. And some of the other doors were notable for their humor and/or detail work. But I was pretty sure I had them all beaten. I mean, SOCK MONKEYS IN TUTUS WITH OUR FACES!!!! How could that possibly lose?!?!? We all looked so cute!
So the judging proceeded and we all awaited the outcome with our best "Who, me? Naw! Did I really win? Not little ole me?" false-modesty faces in readiness (because we all secretly thought we would win, of course). And then the winners were announced.
There was a first-prize winner: Stacy, one of the odds-on favorites.
There was a second prize winner: an outsider named Reba who put on an unprecedented show of speed in the final furlong and came from nowhere to claim the $50 second prize.
And the judges, not being happy with anything as conventional as one third-place prize, split third place between 5, yes FIVE, contestants, none of whom was I.
A sad day. A sad day indeed.
But I know in my heart that my door should have won. And in my mind (and probably in the false-memory that will eventually supplant the objective truth somewhere down the line in my future) my door was the winner.

Sunny's Journey to Katmandu

My faithful (more or less) old dog Sunny is dying. Ok, I guess we all are, but she's on her last legs. She managed to get a kidney infection in October and lost her vision within a month. She's a trooper, though. She keeps going and seems content, mostly. She bumps into things and falls down and just gets right back up. A lesson to us all. She falls off the deck sometimes and sometimes she can't figure out how to get to the leaves outside to "use it," but she still likes to eat. I've been calling doggie heaven Katmandu: where the cats are slow and plentiful.
Sunny always loved cats. Or maybe she really hates them. Perhaps I should just say that cats hold a stong emotional attraction for her and she released many of their terrestrial souls to Katmandu before her vision failed.
She still dreams, though. I busted her dreaming the day before yesterday in her dog bed. Her little foot was tapping and I hope she was the chaser and not the chasee. So she dreams, she eats, she uses the bathroom. She finds her way around. It just hurts to see her staring with her pretty eyes open, not seeing me...or the dog door...or the big pine tree she's about to walk into...
I've been journaling her journey for a few weeks now. I might upload it all. Some would call it morbid. But I want to be able to remember the good things with clarity. She has done so much for me.