Barking Mad

Kittens, Chickens and Horses...Oh My!

This past Saturday netted us a bounty of unexpected bubbly, furry, giddiness; accompanied by a few moments of sheer terror when I thought for sure my eyes would be pecked out!

How's that for kicking off a blog post...cuteness and terror.  I tell ya, we've got it all, right here at the asylum.

A note of caution though, this post is going to be photo intense, so if your page takes a while to load, that's the reason. 

For some time now we've been discussing adding another fur baby to the menagerie here at the Barking Mad Asylum, of the feline variety, because you all know how voraciously I detest waddling little balls of fluff of the canine variety.  We've scouted local shelters and came close to bringing home two midnight black little dolls that would have fit in quite nicely with the mutt, the other two cats and the partridge in the pear tree, along with the two-footed homosapiens who all call this place home.   Alas, we didn't move fast enough and they were gone.  The other little lovelies at local shelters that would have made wonderful additions to our family were all FIV-positive and you can not adopt a cat that carries that virus into a home with FIV-negative cats.  So we decided to look into a couple of local catteries, knowing what kind of kitten we wanted and seeking a breed that would be ideal with not only two other cats, but a dog who thinks he's a cat and a toddler.  That's when we found Ragdolls.  

Fast forward a few weeks, and several discussions with a ragdoll breeder down in Wells, ME., and we loaded up the car, loaded me up with Xanax and headed down to meet Sandy from Rag Angels cattery.  Little did I know what an incredible woman she is and not only does she have such perfect kittens, but a huge heart and was so generous in showing us around her farm and letting the Little Imp not only chase chickens, but pick freshly laid eggs and then let her ride her horse, Rangi.  Sidenote: I am utterly terrified of birds.  Hence the earlier remark about being terror-stricken that my eyes were going to be pecked out.

We spent part of the afternoon sitting in her cozy kitten nursery getting to know Windsong's newest litter which consisted of two boys and one girl.   We had an idea, based on the website and pictures Sandy had sent us, which kitten we wanted...but being able to spend time with him and watching the Little Imp interact with him, as well as the others, just sort of sealed the deal.

Whilst the Little Imp is not entirely sure of the kittens, she had the best time throwing balls and other toys around to them and being chased by them. 

Click to enlarge all photos and be sucked in by the fluffy cuteness!

 

Introducing, Geronimo!

Look at those big blue eyes!  Is he not gorgeous and cute and infinitely cuddleable?  I had the hardest time leaving him there.  Alas, he won't be ready to come home with us for another 4 weeks.  *sigh*

The Little Imp says goodbye to Geronimo...

Once I'd reluctantly said "See ya soon" to Geronimo and peeled myself away from him and his siblings we headed outside for a real treat.

I knew Sandy had some other animals but I didn't know she also raises an award winning (I have never seen so many trophies in my entire life!), breed of miniature horses and several organic laying hens. 

Oh God, there were so many hens.  You have no idea how fast and furiously scenes from Hitchcock's The Birds, were playing through my head as we walked towards all of the multicoloured, speckled and very vocal hens.

Yep, that's pretty much what was running through my head as we mucked our way through the mud towards the hen house.  I was absolutely certain one of them was going to find me delectably peckable and you'd be reading a post from the hubby about my untimely demise by way of chicken pecking!  "Pecked to Death" would have been the first line of my obituary.   Lovely.

This was the first hen to greet me as I walked toward the yard and the hen house...

The monster hen also known as Henny Penny. 

She definitely looked like she could do some major eye-pecking.  I was literally shaking as I walked towards her.  One cluck from her and I probably would have wet my pants.

But hey, obviously that didn't happen.  THANK YOU SWEET 6lb 4oz BABY JESUS!

Oh and Henny Penny, I apologize for those awful thoughts about seeing you on my plate, deep fried and sitting pretty next to some mashed potatoes.

Here's what did happen!  A miracle of sorts.

The Little Imp has a few tactile and sensory issues.  Whereas she is very bright (and I'm not saying that to brag, it is what it is.  Yet another reason I won't be homeschooling her), she is often times very apprehensive to familiarize herself with new things, especially when it comes to touching them.  For instance, she still won't eat anything that's remotely gooey, or messy, or feels funny to her.  It's been a huge issue because her diet is pretty limited at this point.  It was a major feat getting her to eat Yo Baby yogurt.  The drip factor was huge and she absolutely WILL NOT touch it.  She has these tactile issues not only with foods but other every-day items as well.

At Imp's Montessori they have a small farm.  The geese scare the crap out of her; they are forever making that God-awful honking sound when we're loading her up in the car in the afternoons...I don't even like them.  So imagine my surprise when Sandy walked Imp to the hen house and she went in, ON HER OWN and started picking out FRESHLY LAID EGGS, all the while, the hens are clucking nearby and Imp's very own mama is standing in the corner, cowering.  If I had a tail, it most certainly would have been between my legs at this point!  Nothing stood between me and all those peckerish beaks but my trusty camera.

Out of nowhere this HUGE MONSTER HEN flies into the coop to supervise the Little Imp as she gathers eggs.  I think I did actually wet my pants just a little when that happened!  I mean come on people, she flew over my head and then landed squarely in front of me!

Alas, I'm still here with both eyes, so I guess I owe this little hen an apology too.  I am sorry for picturing you, covered in barbeque sauce, on my grill, along side a fat juicy ear of corn and some grilled bell peppers.  And Sandy sent us home with several freshly laid eggs!  Organic eggs!  After eating them, I don't know that we can ever go back to the kind we get at the store, even if they are organic cage free eggs that come with the expiration date on the egg itself!

If being near all those dangerous beautiful hens, and walking into the hen house wasn't enough, the Little Imp did something that truly amazed the hubby and me...she became fast friends with one of Sandy's horses, Rangi.  We didn't think she'd go anywhere near the horse.  Not a chance.

Boy, were we wrong! 

Sandy then told Rangi to give her a kiss, and my heart stood still for a moment because I was a tad scared; he is a pretty big guy for a mini-horse after all...but I really had no reason to be frightened.  Rangi is a big softy and such a cuddle-bug!

I suppose, to understand how the rest of the afternoon unfolded you might have to know the Little Imp personally.  I honestly did not think, when Sandy offered to let Imp RIDE Rangi, that she'd say yes, or at best, it would take a lot of prodding from the hubby or I to get her to consider it. 

The Little Imp didn't even blink once when Sandy asked her.  Something clicked inside her.  I saw it and the hubby saw it.  Rangi looked at the Little Imp and nudged her the tiniest bit with his nose, as if to say; "Come on luv, I'll take good care of you...you and I are going to be best friends!" and it was like this tiny spark of knowing this would be a good thing.  I can't articulate it, but I saw it.  The Little Imp was like butter after that. 

I think I have a better understanding of the magic that therapy horses work, with special needs children, after seeing Imp and Rangi.    I also think I am going to have to come up with some pretty damn solid arguments against getting Imp a horse of her own, after Saturday.

It took a great deal of convincing on Sandy's part, but Imp finally realized that she wasn't, in fact, going to hurt Rangi, by hanging onto his mane. 





"Daddy, may I please have a pony?"



Getting one last smooch from Rangi

I often worry that the last 16 months, spent with a mother who has some serious social anxiety issues, has affected the Little Imp adversely?  From time to time she will exhibit an irrational fear of people.  We want her to have a healthy fear of strangers, but not to the point where it paralyzes her, as it does me.  

It took a great deal of courage (and Xanax) for me to be able to head all the way out and meet Sandy without obssessing about what she was going to think about me and whether or not her opinion of me would weigh whether or not she was actually going to let me take one of the kittens.  Imp has been surrounded by these fears and practically bathed in the anxiety, panic and depression that has weighted me down like an anchor for the last year.

Combine all of that with her already existent sensory and tactile issues, and her own nervous apprehensions about certain everyday scenarios and I fear that I might really be handicapping her social development.  It was no small miracle that both the Little Imp and I were put immediately at ease by Sandy's good nature, broad smile and generous heart.  I was so heartened to see the Little Imp reach out in both friendship and trust.  I was heartened by the ease with which the Little Imp broached her friendship with not only Sandy, but her animals.  Spending time around the kittens, the horses, and yes, to some degree, the chickens, and seeing the Little Imp absolutely soak all of this in, buoyed my spirits and lifted my soul in a manner that they haven't been in a very long time.

Saturday was indeed, a very good day!


P.S. Crap!  I almost completely forgot!  My mommily has her very own little corner of the Interwebs.  She is opinionated, and doesn't hold back!  Go see her and leave her some comment love, even if you disagree!

The Way I See It

A Little Nip Here, A little Tuck There - Blogstyle

I have been sitting here for the past few days, trying to revamp the header and be brave enough to play with the CSS (now that's laughable, seeing as how we've already covered the fact that, serveral times actually, that I don't possess a single geek gene in my entire body!), in order to change how things link. 

The result?  Epic fail!

As a matter of fact, it was such a monstrous failure that I almost killed the blog altogether.  Thank God that after administering CPR, I was able to resucitate it and well, here we are.

As a result of all this tussleing with the blog, combined with several complaints from the peanut gallery about not being able to leave comments, or the blog not loading properly - I have decided to not just get a little bloggy facelift of sorts, but to move it entirely and go the self-hosted route.  Well, almost. 

Over the next few weeks I am going to be emigrating the Barking Mad Asylum over to it's own space, hosted on something as similar to a self-hosted platform as I can get.   This place will still exist, likely for the next few months until I get all the kinks worked out, but there will be a redirect.  I've had the domain, www.iambarkingmad.com for a while now, I just need to put it to use.

I just wanted to give a little heads up that things will be changing.  I hope I don't lose you along the way.   If the breadcrumbs I leave (would chocolate work better?) for you to follow along the way happen to get snatched up by greedy robins or the mean blue jays, just shoot me an email at iambarkingmad@gmail.com and I'll toss you a rescue float and haul you over to the other side.

In the meantime though, I still have some awesome giveaways coming up, including the Keurig Platinum Brewing System (You have no idea how much I want one of these for myself!), a huge gift card, and I should be wrapping up my research and interviews so that I can finally bring you the rest of the Mommybloggers - Expliotation or Art? project I have been working on.  I just had no idea there would be so much interest, nor did I have a clue that two local papers would be interested in picking it up either. 

Of course, it goes without saying, I'll still be here bringing you our almost daily hijinks, calamities, disasters, and the occasional heartfelt and sometimes poignant warblings from the asylum. Oh and the odd assortement of photographs.

Oh oh oh oh and before I forget...we are bringing another furry family member into the fold here at the asylum. Possibly two.  I'll post more about that tomorrow.  It's really pretty silly, but it makes me bubbly all over, like champagne, just thinking about it.

Vignettes

Megawatt and I were in the car heading back to her college campus and I had the Twilight score (not the soundtrack, the Carter Burwell score) playing in the CD player. The track had just come on from the scene where Bella and Edward are on the run from Victoria's crazed pack of vamps...

Megawatt:  Dude, I kinda feel like there should be wicked crazy vampires chasing us.

Me:  That would be AWESOME!

Megawatt:  Word! 

Me:  Was that just a really weird Gilmore Girls/Lorelai-Rory moment?

Megawatt:  Totally.

Me:  Hypothetically speaking, would you ever let another vampire turn you, I mean, assuming hellaciously fine-ass vampires like Jasper and Edward were real? 

Megawatt:  Hell yes!  They wouldn't even have to ask.

Me: Well, hypothetically speaking, just make sure you've eaten and are full before you come home for a visit.

Megawatt:  That's chill.

Me:  I think this conversation has moved from the realm of a Gilmore Girls/Lorelai-Rory moment into the truly strange and bizarre. 

Megawatt:  That's us though, bizarre and strange.

Me:  Word!

********************

Daddy and the Little Imp were playing with PlayDoh.  They were playing with green, purple and bright orange PlayDoh.

Little Imp: *rolling a huge ball of green PlayDoh*:  Daddy, would you like some mold?

Daddy:  Pardon?

Little Imp:  Daddy, I'm giving you a moldy frog's toenail.  Here, take it.

Yeah, I'm not sure where the hell she's picked up the phrase, "moldy frog's toenail" but rest assured, we haven't got any of those around here.  But ya know, she's being creative, so maybe I should let it slide.  I think.

********************

Recently on one of Megawatt's visits home, after I had rearranged one of the kitchen cabinets into something less chaotic, she went to grab a tea bag from the cupboard where they used to be.  She yells, at the top of her lungs...

Megawatt:  Mommmmmmmmmm!  Come here!

Me: What? Why are you yelling like that?

Megawatt:  *standing there with the cupboard door ajar, hands on hips*  Is there something you want to tell me? 

Me:  About what?

Megawatt:  You can't think of anything that maybe I should know? 

Me: Other than the fact that you're starting to make me wonder if you need medication? 

Megawatt:  There's not ANYTHING you want to tell me?  Maybe something you and DDG (her name for her step-dad) should be telling me; wanted to tell me?

Me:  What the hell are you talking about?

Megawatt: *truly indignant now* Yeah OK...I just kinda thought that news like this; you might wanna share with your oldest daughter. 

Me:  Maybe I didn't say this clearly enough last time, but again, what the hell are you talking about?  There's nothing I need, or want to tell you...well except that you're starting to irritate me.

Megawatt:  Fine.  Fine then.  I guess we'll just wait until you give birth.

Me:  WHAT THE HELL?  WHAT THE FREAKING HELL HAVE YOU BEEN SMOKING? 

Megawatt: *grabbing the bottle of prenatal vitamins on the cupboard shelf and foisting it towards me like it's some sort of huge cockroach* I think it's obvious isn't it?  Why would you be taking THESE *shoving the bottle of prenatal vitamins practically in my face.* if you aren't going to have a baby?

Me: OMG chill already!  I have to take these because my body requires more vitamins at this point than a regular multivitamin could provide, due to all the crap I've put myself through. I've been taking them since before Imp was even born, and now I'll probably have to take them the rest of my life. 

Megawatt:  Are you sure?

Me:  Dude, yes I'm sure, or would you like me to pee on a stick in front of you so you can see for yourself that I'm not pregnant?  

Megawatt:  Nawww, it's cool.  Just don't scare me like that again.

********************

At the Little Imp's Montessori they recently talked about what mommy's and daddy's do during the day.  The Little Imp's teacher gets to her and asks her what her daddy does at work?

Little Imp:  My daddy paints money at work and talks to guys that Megawatt finks are hot.

Imp's Teacher: *holding back laughter* OK and what does your mommy do?

Little Imp: I don't know.

Imp's Teacher:  Does your mommy write?

Little Imp: Well she does dat, but she mossly blogs on da 'puter.

Gee thanks kid!

********************

During a recent visit to Little Imp's pediatrician, we were seated not far from an elderly gentleman who was almost completely bald, except for the littlest bit of fluffy white hair around the sides.  The gentleman looks over at the Little Imp and at the book she's reading and says:

Elderly Gentleman:  That's a fine book you have there Little Miss.  My granddaughter has that very same book and loves to have her grandmama read it to her whenever she comes to see us.

Little Imp:  I gots lotsa books. I really like dis one.

Elderly Gentleman:  My granddaughter likes the swamp monster the best and always giggles with her grandmama gets to that part. 

Little Imp: You gots no hair.

At this point I wanted to fall into a huge black hole.  Just sayin'!

Elderly Gentleman: *sensing my complete mortification*  Awww, it's alright.  I get it quite a lot from the wee folk.   *Looking at Little Imp and smiling broadly*  I guess, Little Miss, I've just sort of lost it over the years.

Little Imp:  Oh dats vewwwwy sad.  Want me to help you find it?

Mercifully the Little Imp's name was called and we were ushered into an examination room.  I was so tempted to ask, on our way out, if we could leave via a back entrance/exit. 

********************

Eggs for Idiots

My husband, well, in a word, he's brilliant.  The man thinks of everything. Here, I'll even give you a perfect example.

Last week I was cleaning out the fridge and pulled the carton of eggs out so that I could clean the shelf they were on.   For some reason I happened to notice there was a "Use Before" date on the carton.  Now, a certain person, who shall remain nameless, says that me noticing that this date even existed was an act of God -- there can be no other explanation for it and that I most probably would have left them in there and used them, potentially giving everyone food poisoning. 

Anyhow, I have never before noticed that eggs had a "Use Before" date on the carton.  Don't get me wrong, I am aware that everything eventually goes bad, and that includes things that shoot out of a chickens underside. I just never really thought about it actually applying to eggs in the fridge.  Frankly I have always been of the opinion that hell, if they didn't hatch, they were good to go!  And honestly, eggs really don't last that long around here.  We're either baking them, scrambling them, poaching them or deviling them...and when we're really desperate we throw them at people we don't like make souffles that always fall flat, with them.

However, I honestly have never given any consideration that eggs did indeed have a shelf life. To date, not one single person has ever been made ill by my cooking.  I think it's important to throw that out there. 

So I stood there, looking at this carton of eggs; staring at the "Use Before" date -- the hubby says I was looking at it the way someone from 1452 might look at a cell phone, and I called to him:

Me:  Hey hun, have a look at this. These eggs have a "Use Before" date on them.  I have never ever noticed eggs have this.  Hmmmm.

The Hubby:  *mouth hanging open*  You're joking me, right?  Luv, of course they have a "Use Before" date.  You don't think something that comes from a chicken's bum is going to last forever do you?

Me:  Don't look at me like that.  I know they aren't exactly Willy Wonkas Everlasting Gobstoppers.  But I honestly had no idea their shelf life was so short.  You know, I think I've even baked cakes and cookies with eggs that had been in the fridge a good two months.

The Hubby: *turns a grayish/green colour and shakes his head*  Right, you're spot on that they have a "Use Before" date.  Good thing for all of us you finally discovered this.

Me:  Yeah, OK.

The next day the hubby and the Little Imp went grocery shopping and one of the things on the list was a dozen eggs. When they returned home, the Little Imp comes running in and says, rather enthusiastically, "Mumma, daddy got you sumfing good!"  I couldn't help but get excited too.  She was smiling from ear to ear and jumping around on one foot.  Something worthy of a one-footed jump had to be awesome! 

I dig into the groceries and the hubby points to these...

 

Me:  Wow, organic, cage free eggs.  We've had organic cage free eggs before though.  Are these what Imp is so excited about?

The Hubby:  Oh but these are special eggs.  Have a look at one, luv.  G'on.

I open the eggs and at first glance they appear to be ordinary, large brown eggs.   I look at them again, turn one over in my hands and for the hell of it, shake it.

The Hubby:  No no...here, look right here, see what it says?

 

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Idiot Proof Eggs.

My husband, like I said, thinks of everything.   I also think he's thinking about self-preservation in the event that I don't happen to notice the "Use Before" date on the carton, that I'll certainly notice the "Use By" date on the damn egg itself, thereby avoiding any potential food poisoning.

Such a thoughtful soul.

Sometimes All It Takes is a Lighthouse

Proposal 2.0

The lovely Marcy over at The Glamorous Life Association has asked the entire bloggy interwebs to write a post about love, marriage, or weddings, or all of them, and then link up in her awesome little (or not so little) love carnival.  How could I say no?  Well I couldn't.

Recently Megawatt asked me how I "knew" the hubby was THE ONE?  She wanted to know what made him stand out from the rest, the one I trusted my heart with, the one who I knew -- from the tip top of my head, to the bottom of my toes -- was meant to be.

Actually, I didn't...not for the longest time.  Although, if you ask the hubby, he says he always knew...despite two failed marriages, the death of a child, and my penchant for kissing toads; he always maintained that eventually I'd tire of kissing frogs and realize Prince Charming had been standing there all along.

If you've been reading Barking Mad for any length of time, you might sort-of know how he and me, how we came to be.  The hubby, who was, wayyyy back more than 25 years ago, simply a childhood pen pal in Great Britian.  It was a miracle that we even got matched because the program that his school in England and mine here in the states belonged to had pretty strict rules about matching up girls with girls and boys with boys.  Somehow, perhaps it was the Powers That Be, managed to match us up and we became constant writing companions, who would someday be destined to be soul mates and life partners.

But how did I know he was the one?

A long time ago, when I first visited the Portland Headlight in Cape Elizabeth, here in Maine, I sat under that light for the longest time.  I was frustrated with where my life had been and wasn't sure I'd ever find, "the one" and didn't even know if I was meant to have any one special person in my life.  I looked out over the inky blue Atlantic Ocean and watched the salty whitecaps slam against the rocks that buffet this part of the Maine coastline and then looked back up at that light...a light that had guided thousands, if not millions of mariners, over the last 200 years, and had illuminated the coast for them, preventing tragic and fatal shipwrecks. 

My love affair with that light is legendary.  Anyone who reads me, or knows me personally, can tell you that not only does it's beauty captivate me, but it serves as a beacon...not only to mariners, but in some small way, in my own life.  It has stood the test of time, the elements and the intrusion of man, yet it still stands, majestically, beaming it's guiding light, out across this small area of the Atlantic Ocean.  It is a constant and as long as we always take care of it, tend to the grounds, and polish the light, it will remain a beacon for mariners and possibly lovers, for another two centuries.

So as I sat there under the light and let the cool sea air wash over me, and felt the slight tingles of salt-spray against my skin, I knew; I knew that if I was lucky enough to ever find the one, I'd bring him here and somehow, some aspect of being near the light, would let me know whether he really was the one.

In the summer of 2002, as the then English boyfriend and I grew closer via phone calls, and at this point, emails, he asked if I'd like to accompany him on a holiday of New England and the Canadian side of Niagara Falls.  He knew I was familiar with New England and would make sure to show him not only all of my favourite haunts, but some of the more popular tourist areas as well.   I jumped at the chance to spend two entire weeks with a man who was rapidly becoming someone very important to me.  I had no idea what the future held, if anything.  I didn't know how you go about having a serious relationship with someone who lives in England when you're still residing in the midwest.  I just knew I wanted to spend time with him.  Bear in mind my luvlies, that from 1980 to 2002 we'd only exchanged letters, then emails, IM's and then from the summer of 2002 through October 2002, almost daily phone calls.  We did exchange pictures over all those years, but had never met in person.   Granted, we knew there was something there, yet we still had to get over the hurdle of meeting, face to face for the first time.

It's funny, looking back to that very first meeting at a small airport in the midwest.  I can't even recall the number of times I checked my reflection in my compact.  Every time I'd hear a plane land my stomach would do a little flip flop.  Every person who would walk by would look at me, and I'm sure, wonder why I looked almost panic stricken.  And then...there he was.  I can still remember my heart beating and hearing the constant rapid thump-da-bump in my ears.   Instantly I was in his arms and the years faded into the background, my nerves were washed away and this little flame, this tiny little spark that had always been there, was now rumbling deeply in my heart.

We rented a car and drove to Niagara Falls.  We spent time walking and talking and laughing.  We slept in cozy little bed and breakfasts along the New England coastline.  We laughed as we watched diners at local seafood restraunts order "Twin Maine Lobster" dinners.  We reminisced over childhood letters and giggled about things that seemed so very important back then, but we barely remembered them now.  He held me as I cried when I recalled his letters and cards after Joshua's death, my divorce, and all my other little heartaches that I had shared with him over the years.  I let him lay his head in my lap as he recalled some of his fondest memories of his late mum and how sorry he was that I'd never get the chance to meet such a lovely woman. 

We laughed, probably too hard when we accidentally got the rental car stuck in a huge drainage ditch (we were trying to turn around, after becoming hopelessly lost just outside Old Orchard Beach, ME; and the car slid into the ditch), and were eternally grateful for the two burley Maine lobstah-men who literally pushed and heaved the car out of the ditch. 

Most of all we talked.  We talked and talked and talked.  It seemed, even after more than two decades of letters (and sometimes mine were long, very long), we never ran out of things to talk about.

It was during our second week of the holiday that I took him to the Portland Headlight.  It was a blustery autumn day with a cold wind blowing off of the Atlantic.  We probably spent two hours walking around the grounds and talking and just staring out over the ocean.  It couldn't have been any more than 45F yet I was warmed, from the inside out.  That little flame was now constantly burning bright.  

I looked up at the light and right at that moment a huge gust of wind blew me backwards into the English Boyfriend and it was as if this small voice came out from the wind, across the smudgy purplish-black cloudy skies and over the indigo waters of the Atlantic and whispered to me; "He is the one." 

The rest is really a fairy tale.  My own fairy tale that's still being written.

One thing I realized that day was that all those hundreds, if not thousands of letters he wrote to me, served as little lighthouses in my life.  They bolstered me, they were a light during some of my darkest hours and guided me out of the depths of my own personal hell.   The English boyfriend, who is now affectionately referred to as The Hubby, is still my lighthouse.  My rock.   He is my strength when my heart is broken.  He carries me when I can no longer carry myself under the burdens, physical or emotional and in short, he is the one -- the one who was meant to be, with me.

Fast forward to today, the reason I'm writing this. 

I have these two friends who I have come to adore out here in the blogosphere.  She is funny, compassionate and a wicked-awesome writer.  She's been through her own share of loss and heartache and come through with this spirit that is incredibly bright and beautiful.  She is a single mommy to a darling little girl and I am so blessed to know her.

He has recently come back into her life.  They've known one another for many years.  He's very witty and was even christened, in somewhat of an unorthodox manner, into the blogosphere -- typically surrounded by tens, if not hundreds of other mommy-bloggers who want to know every little detail about him -- with class and an unending sense of humor.

Something guided these two beautiful souls back together.  I kind of like to think of it as each being the other's personal lighthouse.

All the best you two.  May your love for one another weather the storms of life.  May your trust in one another guide you through the winters and into the springs.   May your humor bless your lives as richly as it has blessed those of us who know you. 

May you love long and with every part of your body, heart and soul.

 

****UPDATE 10:00PM EST***

SHE SAID YES!