The dream of Martin Luther King has yet to be fulfilled. Fifty years is a long time, and we haven’t made all that much progress. And, you know what I’m thinking about.
Still Dreamin’
Butterfly Wings
I Read Your Sign – Mine is Libra
If a quirky sign catches my attention, and many have, I’ll take a photo and add the image to my expanding collection. In these dreary days of winter weather and hashtag political nonsense, I have a distraction for my blogger friends. Wonderfully creative messages and opinions are often nailed with only a few words. Many of these signs gave me a smile and a perspective about people and their opinions. I don’t have a picture of my favorite bumper sticker – Don’t Believe Everything You Think. I sold the ’94 Honda Accord, and the sticker went with the sale.
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Enjoy the slide show.
Tax Credit for 2017
The 2017 donation checks are in the mail. Ten nonprofits made my list, and of those, two are cat shelters that my sister, who is now in feline heaven, has supported. The runners-up, fine organizations all, know where I live. In 2018 they will send mailing labels, calendars, dream catchers, stickers, nickels, bookmarks, maps, note pads, and photos of children and animals in need of food, medicine, shelter, and compassion.
Last November I started to save bulk mail, and by the end of December I had a stack of envelopes. My name and address are linked to a segment of the political and social stratosphere. I receive nothing from the NRA, the Republican party, or religious organizations – except St. Jude’s Hospital, which I don’t count as secular. In some abstract way what I value and support has been synthesized. I imagine computer programs sending millions of potential donor profiles to advocacy organizations. That puts me on lists for animal shelters, nature preservation, social justice, literacy, population awareness, women’s health, shelters, recovery/rehab, and Tucson’s kid camp.
Remember the saying, You Are What You Eat? From the send-us-money letters I receive, I am correctly targeted. I use Charity Navigator (http://www.charitynavigator.org/) as a source to filter organizations. Many have a strong advocacy and persistence, but high administrative costs. When a CEO makes mega-bucks, I should be asking fill in the name for money. My bottom line: No contribution when an executive’s annual salary is a high six-figure income.
Best wishes to all for 2018. Let’s work to improve the health of our planet, and the lives of its people and animals.
Abby & A Busy Box
Today I made a video of Abby and a busy box. She knows to open the box and retrieve a biscuit or two. When I leave her alone, she goes outside and gets busy taking a box apart. Sometimes I put a small box inside of a larger box. Great distraction before boredom arrives. Then she uses the dog door and jumps on the living room couch for a nap. (That’s Dave Brubeck’s music playing in the background.)
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Jackson Hole & Other Places
First impressions — the city center plaza of Jackson Hole reminded me of Santa Fe. Western art galleries, shops ’til you drop, and restaurants line the square and trail along the side streets. Tourists love the place. In winter elk do, too. They live outside of town on the vast National Elk Refuge. To get started we drove straight to the visitor’s center for information and maps. Our list of places to see — National Museum of Wildlife Art, Grand Teton National Park, the Laurance S. Rockefeller Preserve, Teton Village tram ride, and the byways that took us away from the main road.
Snowmelt cut our Snake River float trip time in half. The water raced along carrying logs, branches, and debris. Eagles, herons, pelicans, and beavers didn’t seem to notice the high water and flooded riverbanks. On our fifth and final day we returned to an old favorite, Yellowstone and the Hayden Valley.
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D.C. Go – Go
Thanksgiving 2016 – Let’s visit Washington, D.C.
Richard and I put together a last minute trip that turned out great. (Almost as great as my Arts High School senior class trip from Newark to D.C. The girls dressed up and wore high-heeled shoes. Oh, I remember the pain of walking for hours in 3-inch heels.) These many years later, I still had an issue. Since I didn’t bring my dog-walking shoes, my feet barked long and loud. On the plus side, our hotel was the right choice. We stayed at the Fairfield Inn and Suites on H Street, Chinatown – our appetite for sashimi, saki, and rainbow rolls was satisfied within a few easy blocks.
Our five days covered the Woodrow Wilson House, the Library of Congress, the Newseum (ticket is good for two days), and the Lincoln Memorial. We walked the Mall, watched squirrels scamper in the leaves, and took a 2-hour Sunday tour of Georgetown with Dwane Starlin. We spent hours the National Museum of the American Indian. We stood in line for ninety minutes to visit the National Museum of African American History and Culture. (Good luck with that! See my comments on Trip Advisor.) On a rainy Tuesday we did the not-to-be-missed East Building of the National Gallery of Art. The building opened in September and added 12,250 sq. feet of new exhibition space. A movable walkway connects the new space with the West Building.
I took photos of the quirky, the creative, and the somber. The internet has a zillion pictures of D.C. places. My imagination tells me to consider the usual, but I’m more interested in the other.
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Meet Abby
When Abby swiped her Get Out of Jail Free card, she began a happy, new life. At the end of April, a Pima County dog catcher picked her up as a stray — no collar, no tag, no chip, no name. A staff volunteer approved her adoption since I’ve owned dogs and have a fenced yard. Best yet, she said all dogs over six months old went to new homes for free.
Abby’s muzzle and ears say German Shepherd mix. She seems to be a reincarnation of Amber, our beautiful girl that died six years ago. Abby does show separation anxiety. Unless I close doors she gets into unrolling toilet tissue. She likes shoes, boxes of Kleenex, and wicker. Yesterday she chased and killed two quail chicks. Abby’s instincts took over — chase, capture, and bye-bye birdies.
Next Sunday she graduates from the Petsmart beginner’s obedience class. We’re going right on to the intermediate class and, eventually, if she’s smart enough, to a therapy dog program. Abby has lots of love to give. I wish she could tell me her life story . . . .
Consider Writing 