Here are links I found interesting on October 25, 2013:
A look at how Penny the Tiny Dog has accrued airline miles since September 2012.
One of the best things about having a tiny dog is just how easy she is to travel with. Indeed, Penny has been with me on almost every single trip I’ve taken since I brought her into my life on June 27, 2012.
Think I’m kidding? Here’s a quick look at the trips Penny and I have taken together since September 2012. This is just airliner flights and doesn’t include the helicopter and small plane flights we’ve done together, like the trips to Winslow, Williams, Page, Phoenix, Tucson, Lake Havasu, Flagstaff, the Grand Canyon, Georgetown (CA), Woodland (CA), Quincy (WA), Wenatchee (WA), and other places.
I’ll update this periodically so I have a permanent record of her frequent flyer status.
|12/16/2013||Phoenix||Dallas Ft. Worth||752|
|12/16/2012||Dallas Ft. Worth||Jacksonville||796|
|12/30/2012||Jacksonville||Dallas Ft. Worth||796|
|12/30/2012||Dallas Ft. Worth||Phoenix||752|
|Total Airline Miles||22,089|
Too bad I can’t get her on a frequent flyer plan.
A bit about my Arizona dogs.
I’ve had dogs almost my entire life and four of them have lived with me in Arizona’s Sonoran desert.
The first was Spot or “Country Squire Rorschach,” a Dalmatian that I got for my birthday years ago when I lived in New Jersey. Spot was getting on in years by the time I moved to Arizona and he wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree. He never quite understood the importance of finding and standing in shade on hot days. I took him hiking out in the desert just once with me and I thought he would die of heat stroke by the time we got back. I have a photo somewhere of him standing by a big saguaro cactus, but I can’t seem to find it right now; if I do, I’ll post it here.
Next came Jack the Dog, a Border Collie/Australian Shephard Mix. My soon-to-be ex-husband and I adopted him from the local shelter about a year after Spot died. He proved to be an excellent hiking and horseback riding companion. He liked going out on horseback rides so much, that he once followed two friends of ours when we let them ride our horses without us. He was a true “desert dog,” spending most of his time loose in the backyard, overseeing the scant traffic on the road that led to our house and barking at any vehicle that didn’t belong. When he was forced to spend time in Phoenix, in the tiny condo my husband had bought, we did what we could to get him out and about on long walks. But I know he was happiest at home and on the 40 acres of ranch land we owned near the Grand Canyon.
Charlie came about a year after Jack’s demise. My husband and I had gone to an adoption event in Phoenix, feeling ready to bring home a new dog. After taking two unsuitable dogs for short trial walks, I spotted Charlie, wet from a dog wash and looking pretty ragged. We took him out for a walk — against his will, I might add — and decided to make him ours. It’s unfortunate that he spent most of his time at that damn Phoenix condo, but when I was with him there, I took him to various Phoenix dog parks so he could run free with the other dogs. We also played catch daily with tennis balls at the condo’s unused tennis courts. Like Jack, he was happiest in Wickenburg, though, roaming around the yard or accompanying us on Jeep rides or hikes in the desert. The horses were gone by then, but I sure think he would have liked accompanying us on rides. It saddens me to think of his current life with my husband in Phoenix and Scottsdale, in walled-in yards and boarding facilities. A dog like Charlie needs to roam free.
I got Penny the Tiny Dog in Quincy, WA near the end of June, 2012 as a foster dog. I missed Charlie terribly — he had become an important part of my life during the long days I was stuck at the Phoenix condo the previous winter. Although my husband and I had been talking about him and Charlie spending the summer with me in Washington, my husband had gone silent (again). Still, for some dumb reason, I had high hopes of them arriving, perhaps on my birthday at month-end. I really looked forward to seeing Charlie and Penny playing together — Charlie loved playing with our neighbor’s Chihuahua in Phoenix. But three days after I got Penny, I got the birthday call from my husband asking for a divorce. Penny has been a huge comfort to me since then — I officially adopted her only two weeks later. She travels almost everywhere with me — even in the helicopter and on airlines — and, like Jack and Charlie before her, loves hiking out in the desert. She’s outside now, as I type this, walking along the top of the short wall around the backyard, looking for lizards on the hillside below her.
My days in the Arizona desert are numbered now — when the divorce winds up, I’ll finally be on my way with Penny. Although I’ll miss the hiking and Jeeping here, I know there are new adventures ahead of us — in other deserts and in canyons and forests and along rivers. Penny and I are both up to the challenge.
Going through some old photos brings back memories of a former life.
While I was away this summer, my husband gathered up huge bunches of my things and stored them in boxes or cabinets, likely to keep them out of sight. Among these things were photographic prints and slides. Unfortunately, some of them ended up in cardboard boxes that he put in my hangar; a summer flood destroyed everything left on the hangar floor — photographic keepsakes and so many other papers and books are gone forever. Others were spared destruction by being simply crammed into a cabinet or box and mercifully left in the house.
I’m going thorough these photos now. I’m finding mostly vacation photos from years and years ago — the 1980s and 1990s. I used a film camera back then and usually shot print film instead of slides. (My husband was dedicated to Kodachrome.) There are also some aerial photos from our aborted attempt at providing aerial photography services. Most of those are trash.
But I’m also finding a few random photos taken from way back when — in the days of what I’m now calling Maria 1.0. That’s the version of me from birth right up until the point I started my relationship with the man who would later become my husband.
I thought I’d share a few of the Maria 1.0 photos with readers. Keep in mind that these are scanned from very old prints, so the quality and color is somewhat questionable.
College Days, with my Cat
The date on the back of this picture says June 1981. That would be about a year before I graduated. This is me with my first cat, Fig Newton (or Figgy). It’s probably in my summer dorm room. By 1981, I’d moved out of my parents home and was living year-round at Hofstra University. I worked for Facilities Management and, because I had a job all summer, I could stay in the dorm rooms at a reduced rate. Figgy wasn’t legal to have as a pet, but that didn’t stop me. He was just a kitten here; he eventually did grow into his ears.
I didn’t start wearing contact lenses until the fall semester. And it wasn’t until about two years later that I finally got fed up with long hair and started wearing it short.
As for the cat….well, when my future husband and I began living together in 1984, I had to find homes for him and the second cat I’d gotten not long afterward. My husband has asthma and is allergic to cats. Giving up Figgy and Rover was the first of many sacrifices I made for him.
Rooftop, Seeing Double
I got interested in photography when I was in my sophomore or junior year. I even dated a photography student for about a year. I had an Olympus OM-10 35mm camera. You could probably consider it an entry level SLR. It certainly had limitations.
But even back in those days, knew how to work around limitations. The image here is the best of only a few examples of a double-exposure shot within the camera. In other words, I shot two images on the same film frame. By masking one side of the frame for one shot and the other side of the frame for the other shot, I was able to create a double-exposure that shows me on both sides of the photo. (Of course, nowadays a shot like this is easy enough to make in Photoshop.)
This was done on the roof of the apartment building I lived in in Hempstead, NY. I lived there for about a year and half, right after college. It was on the border of a nasty neighborhood that occasionally had shootings. But it was all I could afford, so that’s where I lived.
The dress I’m wearing is unusual. It’s actually a long, wrap-around skirt. I discovered that if I fastened the waistband under my armpits and put a belt around my waist, I could wear it as a dress. This is one of the many items of clothing I made for myself back in those days. I was pretty poor and couldn’t afford to buy new clothes, so I made them.
The date stamp on the back of this photo is December 1983, but I suspect it’s either a reprint or I just held off on getting it printed. No way I’d be on the roof in December without a jacket. The year is probably right, though; 1983 is the year I met my future husband and I know my hair was wild from a growing out perm back then.
Asleep in his Arms
I guess it’s appropriate to end the photo show of Maria 1.0 with a shot from the end of that era. When I met the man I’d share 29 years of my life with, I was only 22. Odd as it may seem, back in those days it wasn’t unusual for me to fall asleep in his arms, often on a rock or some other hard surface outdoors. The first time it happened was at Montauk Point, where we’d gone very early one morning to watch the sun rise. Afterward, we lay together on one of the big flat rocks making up the breakwater and fell asleep. There aren’t any photos of that, but this shot from later in 1983 reminds me of that morning, too.
Back in those days, we did a lot of outdoor activities with friends. I’m pretty sure this photo was taken at Lake George in the Adirondack Mountains, possibly during a Columbus Day weekend trip. I remember taking the gondola ride up Gore Mountain and hiking down to enjoy the fall colors. I vaguely recall being there with our friends Bennett and Marion, who also met that summer and later married. One of them must have taken this photo.
I really miss the guy in the photo.
An odd solution to a puppy problem.
I am an early riser. I have been for at least the past 15 years. I’m usually up and out of bed by 6 AM. My body wakes up and, since I either didn’t want to wake my soon-to-be ex-husband or I had things to do, I’d get up and start my day.
My day starts with a routine that I’ve shared with Alex the Bird for almost 10 years — since Alex the Bird came into my life. I throw on some clothes, come into the kitchen, and brew some coffee, often reciting the mantra “Coffee is the most important thing” — a phrase that Alex the Bird still hasn’t picked up. While the coffee brews, I prepare Alex’s scrambled egg in the microwave. I cut up half of the egg and give it to Alex in a little dish atop her cage. Then I settle down at the table with my coffee and my laptop or iPad and enjoy the very first cup of coffee for the day while catching up on Twitter or writing a blog post — like this one.
(When I was home in Wickenburg or Phoenix with my dog Jack and then Charlie, the routine also included letting him out for his morning pee, putting a scoop of food into his dog dish, and topping off his water. He’d get half of Alex’s egg, then wait around Alex’s cage for the pieces of egg that dropped and gobble them all up. But those days are apparently gone for good, so it’s best not to dwell on them.)
The routine is pretty much the same when I live in the Mobile Mansion in Washington. After all, coffee is the most important thing.
Enter Penny the Tiny Dog. Or Tiny Puppy right now. Her routine is a bit different. After her morning pee, she comes in and cleans up after Alex the Bird’s scrambled egg droppings. And then she comes to me where I’m invariably sitting at my desk and starts jumping up on me. She wants to play.
Of course, I’m just getting started on my coffee. Not even half of it is gone. I’m not ready to play. Heck, I’m not even fully conscious sometimes.
A side note here…yesterday, one of my Facebook friends shared one of those images with a message — you know, the kind always floating around Facebook. This one said:
My favorite coffee in the morning is the one where no one talks to me while I drink it.
My reply was:
Mine is the one where a tiny dog doesn’t jump all over me for attention while I’m drinking it.
The solution is to distract her with something more interesting and rewarding than me rolling around on the floor with her. And that solution involves a beef soup bone and some peanut butter.
I bought the bone at the supermarket about a month ago. It didn’t take her long to eat the marrow out the ends. The bone is nice and dry and kind of clean. The holes on either end go in pretty deep. Sometimes she still plays with it.
I bought the peanut butter to bait the mousetraps. I don’t really like Skippy because it has sugar in it and I don’t think peanut butter should have added sugar. And although I like peanut butter, sometime over the past 10 years or so I’ve developed a sort of allergy to it; after eating it, I just don’t feel quite “right.” I switched to cashew butter, which is harder to find but very tasty. Of course, it’s not on my diet, so I don’t have any around for me or the mice. So I went to the supermarket and bought the smallest, cheapest jar of peanut butter they had. It turned out to be Skippy. I don’t care about feeding sugar to the mice.
One day, on a whim, I put a bit of peanut butter in each end of the bone and gave it to her. I was rewarded with about 15 minutes of peace and quiet to finish my coffee. Afterwards, she found something else to keep her busy.
Now it’s part of our morning routine. When she’d done cleaning up after Alex and she starts jumping up on me to play, I prepare the peanut butter bone and give it to her. I can then enjoy my coffee in peace.
The only problem is, she’s getting really good at licking that peanut butter out of the holes.