A blog is like a play

Our camp provides the perfect setting.

I like a camp with a feeling of spaciousness.  Loon Lagoon Camp has that.  Frequently throughout each day that Bridget and I have made this peninsula in Flaming Gorge, Utah, our home, I glance at The Rock to see its mood.

(None of the photos in this post have been edited to increase color saturation or brilliance.  I rarely “improve” my photos, other than cropping.  What you see is what I get from the camera.)

1-P1000356At our campsite we have a front-row seat for the moody drama. 

Stage lights turn the bay “Caribbean green.”   The Rock wears a somber face in the background as if resenting the grasses in their minor roles stealing the limelight.

1-P1000386The bay puts on her royal blue satin dress and plays her part with panache.

1-P1000414 For her dark, dramatic scene, she dons diamonds.

1-P1000404Good plays have tension and layers of meaning.  Some close in tragedy that causes us to reflect.

1-P1000410Others have happy endings that make us sigh.  Even the moody among us have their spirits lifted.

1-P1000412A blog is like a play.

Lately it’s been mostly scenery on my blog and very little plot development.  It isn’t that I’ve lost my sense of humor.  I’ve temporarily misplaced it.  It’s around here somewhere.  Some days I’m gloomy and misty-eyed; other days I’m strolling a ridge with Bridget, lighthearted and full of gladness.

I’m moody like The Rock.

I don’t want to go on and on about my grief.  Everybody goes through grief.  Many of you reading this are suffering right now from the death of a spouse, friend, family member, or  pet.

1-P1000353You understand.

You know when you go to the dentist and it’s time for x-rays?  The person operating the x-ray machine comes over with a big shirt-front made of lead and places the heavy thing on your chest.  Grief is like that, only it’s not just a shirt-front.  It has sleeves and a back and hangs down to the ankles.  There are even matching boots of lead and a heavy, leaden helmet!

I didn’t realize how much Spike helped me write. 

He was a seemingly endless source of material off of which I could spin a blog post.  Every day, sometimes several times a day, his antics would make me laugh.  I could take that laughter and in words and photos pass it on to you.

Most likely there will be more days when I rely on photos to get me through a post.  In time I’ll be able to produce more stories, silliness and laughter.

In the meantime . . .

The play must go on!


NOTE:  Bridget and I have moved to a neighboring campsite.  We’re expecting company!


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233 Responses to A blog is like a play

  1. Penny says:

    Encore! Encore!!! Your play left me wanting more acts. This play is one I don’t want to end. How will you ever leave that beautiful spot?

  2. Janis Harrison says:

    I hope and pray your grief will get easier with time. Wishing you happiness and joy

  3. John K - Mobile, AL says:

    Much better than watching TV! I am chomping at the bit to get out there.

    I wish I could tell you that the grief will go away. It might lessen over time but I know that whenever I think about my father – who died young in 1989 – I still get tears in my eyes. I just can’t let it go. He worked his butt off all his adult life and did not get to enjoy the rewards of retirement.

    Anyway, I am enjoying the pictures.

  4. Susan in Dallas says:

    What great writing and insight. Thanks.

  5. suzago says:

    Love how real you are. Keep that. Don’t try to be anyone else for us. The photos are beautiful and your soul shines through each view.

  6. Shelia says:

    Take the time you need, Sue. Most of us have dealt with grief before. Some of us loved Spike too and are grieving right alongside you. I’m still grieving my Rico even though it’s been over 18 months and I have three replacement nutcakes. Here’s a virtual hug to you and Bridg. I love reading your blog and looking at your photos – even when you don’t have a lot to say.

  7. A heavy coat of lead…yes, you have described grief so very well! As my dad told me the other day “grief is necessary, but we don’t have to like it!”. Somehow, I found comfort in that. In my own life, I am finding that grief is a process that keeps its own schedule and I’m just along for the ride. Accepting this is a daily practice…I keep wanting to impose my own agenda on my grief, but grief will not have any of that! 🙂

    When grief hits, I am finding it is easiest when I talk to it and say: “hello sadness, I am going to take good care of you today” like a nurturing parent. I don’t know if that would work for anybody else, but I’m finding that embracing my sadness in a compassionate way instead of shooing it away makes it softer and shorter-lived.

    In the meanwhile, we all forge ahead!

    I really liked your photos this post. The variety of blues you have been able to capture in the water are amazing and soothing. Thank you!

  8. Betty Shea says:

    Just remember your blogorinos love you and Bridget dearly…we understand.. Hugs to you both!

  9. Shirlene says:

    Good Morning Sue, I am so sorry for what you are going through. I know the feeling, and as my two little dogs age, I am filled with dread for this is a one way road for us all. I try to enjoy every day I have with them right now, and even take days off work just to spend extra time with them. I find myself turning down invitations to go away because if they cannot go I do not want to take myself away from them. My little girl poodle has just been diagnosed with Cushing’s, and we know about that. Aging is a process and going through it gracefully is an art. We are all there with you, day by day getting through, and breaking into laughter at times is good for the soul. Your humor still shines through and we all know there is enough humor from the bloggers to carry us all through. We all know there is a “Spikey Jr” out there looking for a home, and when the time is right you will see him sitting right in front of you and we will all rejoice with you.

  10. Gail says:

    I love your photos of “the rock” and its’ surroundings in many different moods. Also agree with your analogy of grief and the lead suit. You are a very real and perceptive person, Sue. Love your blog, and your zest for life and adventures found in nature’s beauty.

  11. klbexplores says:

    You are so right….the analogy about the weight of the xray apron is the closest to how I have felt regarding grief. Remember the good times can be both a curse and a blessing. Unfortunately both bring with them the weight of the apron. Those people who love you, the nutcakes and your blog will love you and allow you all the time you need. Our furry kiddos worm a place into your heart forever. It is just plan hard when your daily interaction with them changes. Peace and comfort to you Sue. Karen

  12. Dawn in MI says:

    Oh Sue, yes we know about grief…and you are right…it is leaden. And it will catch us by surprise often when we’re least ready for it. It comes and goes likes waves, sometimes crashing on us, sometimes just nudging us gently. Spike was a great dog and he’s probably grinning to think he was the inspriation for so much creativity. Don’t worry about us…do what you can and know we’re right here, loving whatever you send our way. Hugs.

  13. Carol, Auburn says:

    I was all tears when my dog died and the vet treating her told me that our pets are “people with fur.” More than that we love them unconditionally and they love us in return the same way. The loss of a beloved pet is difficult indeed; in time may the happy memories of Spike take up more room in your heart than your grief. Hugs to you and Bridget.

    • BuckeyePatti (Ohio) says:

      Carol, I couldn’t pass up commenting about our pets being “humans with fur”. Someone here previously said they need to make 35 year dogs (good idea). We inherited our grandpuppy when my daughter had a child that ended up needing extensive medical care for 30+ days in the NICU. We had him for a month, then two, and then she asked, would you like to keep him? We had been without a dog for 6 years, so we said, Yes!

      He was a well trained beagle (keyword: WAS). We have spoiled him terribly.

      I told the vet that we weren’t planning on getting a dog ever again (mostly because of the hurt & pain of losing them and the responsibility). She said, “Sometimes animals just have a way of finding us” 🙂

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Hi, Carol,

      Thank you and may the memories of your dog make you smile.

  14. weather says:

    This is the finest demonstration -of what refinement of a gift- deep pain produces in creative people that I’ve ever seen!

    Sue,not a portion of your grieving or it’s weight upon you has escaped me,I’m sure that’s no surprise to you. Humor and lightness -feigned- would denigrate your portrayal of yourself and free adventure itself.

    Days of spontaneous laughter will return to you,I promise,it’s been a long hard month-that is key to note. Four weeks and a few days is no indication of what more time will bring your heart-the healing and joy that is ahead.

    The sheer beauty of this post shown in every layer,story line and picture shows the vibrant life within you grows more exquisite every day-trust it.May the weight on you soon finish polishing your qualities into diamonds worth and leave nothing but glory in it’s wake.

  15. Jean in Southaven, MS says:

    I loved this post, it touched me at so many levels. My Aunt once belonged to a photography club and one of the projects was to pick a subject and photographic it in all four seasons one year. She picked a beautiful tree all by itself in a field with a fence in the forground. Those were taken 30 years ago and I can still see them as plain as day in my mind. These pictures of the rock and the water are beautiful. No need for anything else in the blog, the pictures say it all. Love you new camera. Maybe I can wait for you to go to Arizona after all.

  16. Ilse says:

    Beautiful. Thank you Sue!

  17. Jim Drier says:

    It is amazing how the same scene can give us so many different looks, all because of the sun light. Great job in catching Gods handy work.
    We will be out there next summer and we are really looking forward the beauty of the West.

  18. rvsueandcrew says:

    Oh gosh, I didn’t write this post to elicit more sympathy. You’ve given me your condolences already which are a comfort and a testimony to that character Spike. I wrote it to explain why my blog may not have the lightness and humor of former posts. Sometimes I have to rely on photos.

    Thank you though for the kindness of your comments.

    Today I’m looking forward to the arrival of Gil and Kathy who are readers of this blog and comment frequently as “kgdan.”. I met them at Dome Rock, Quartzsite, AZ. Later our paths crossed again and they had me over for dinner when we all camped at Mittry Lake north of Yuma, AZ.

    • Shirlene says:

      Just sharing…..:)

      • rvsueandcrew says:

        I do appreciate that. Yes, everyone, feel free to share. This is a caring group of people. We listen with understanding, without making judgments. It’s difficult with this lousy connection for me to reply to each comment. Your heartfelt stories of your own grief are better without me chiming in anyway.

    • weather says:

      You once said it seemed to you that someone else was writing your blog.I agree.Our spirit will express what it’s meant to-our brain is just one tool among others used by the whole person we really are .You often have intended to write something far simpler than what’s produced,so have I.Words have much more power and substance than most are aware of.I,for one,don’t offer sympathy,kindness or love to you because you try ,or intend, ever to elicit that-I do it simply because that’s how I feel and so express it-as do others.

  19. Ed H says:

    HOLY MOLY Kiddo! I know it was not your intent, but THIS post was among your most artful and brilliant. Those “moody” photos knocked my socks off. Life IS a play, one act at a time. And no earthly one of us knows what acts are to follow, or how the play ends. Isn’t that great and wonderful?

    • Shirlene says:


    • Diana B ( Northern California ) says:

      Hi Ed…. I also try to look at this present existence as a play. My challenge to self is to separate enough consciousness so that I can sit in the audience and watch that “actor” plod and or soar along her way. ..it an be very comical.

      That said…. I sure admire RVSue’s grit.

  20. Glenda Laine says:

    Love the exact same photos showing the changing light. Great creative idea. You can’t go around, under, or over grief. Just gotta go THRU it to ever get to the other side of acceptance & peace. And you will eventually.

  21. Kay says:

    Sometimes, we people cope with things very different, yet often the same way. Funny story about a grief I dealt with, well didn’t deal with that well.

    It was a Friday, May 30, 1969. My favorite Aunt’s birthday. I lived with my grandma, and my daddy farmed my grandma’s farm. He was there that day, and when time to go home to his farm came, he picked me up and hugged me, kissed me on the cheek and instructed me to be a good girl for grandma and he would “SEE ME MONDAY”.

    Well, MONDAY never came. Dad stopped in a little farm community and got a hair cut, stopped for cold beer, a man in the bar dropped a pill, or two in dad’s drink, and dad took off for home. He made it 2.5 miles from home, when a member of his wife’s family caused him to run off the road and he was killed in the accident.

    Mondays… they often never come. Over the years, I have missed my dad so much. Never stopped grieving, never. It was often very hard, difficult and depressing to go through life’s days because my dad was always on my mind. I could smell him, feel him, and hear him EVERY DAY of my life forward from May 30,1969.

    Then, while living in Dallas, one late morning I walked into my kitchen. It was a MONDAY. At the time, I had no thought of my dad AT ALL. I opened the fridge thinking about what to eat, and instantly, I fell to my knees and was crying so hard. No idea why in that instant second it began, and the next second… I could smell my dad, feel him, hear him, and I cried so hard. Lasted about 15 minutes, then somehow, I was able to stand up. SLOWLY the rest of the day passed by, and the next day I seemed to have many different outlooks on things in life. It was very weird to say the least.

    Looking back, it was a day which I have no other explanation except to call it the “turning point”.

    For some odd reason to me, and others, I seemed to developed the ability to process and create a wide range different ideas and things in my head and then physically. What’s even more unusual, is that I have one of my dads sisters still alive. She’s 85 now, each time I call her, it takes her about 15 minutes to adjust to speaking with me. Each time she sees me, it takes her about 15 minutes of just sitting and listening and watching me do the talking, then she begins to tear up. Very weird. While she and I are together, it could be 3 hours or 8 hours, she will call me by my dad’s name at least 4 if not 5 times. My daughter has caught this, and my older cousins often do too.

    One older cousin may have said it best, and this likely comes from me calling her way back on that day I fell to my knees. She said “Kay, I think my uncle has entered you in an unexplainable way, and please don’t ever repeat this. You, are living and thinking so much like your father used to, just before he was killed.


    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Thank you, Kay, for sharing a very personal experience.

    • Elizabeth in WA says:

      Kay, sometimes in life, things happen (as has happened to you…and others of us perhaps in different but unexplainable ways)…and it is hard to put into words. Perhaps as you go through life, this will end up being a kind of gift that helps you help others…or so it seems to me… It was not my dad I lost…it was my 20 yr old brother that threw me into DEEP grief as you describe…and that was when the unexplainable happened to me…certainly nothing I asked for…to me, it was GOD comforting me….and when I shared what happened with my parents, it also brought them a lot of comfort as well…

      • Kay says:

        I should mention, or at least clarify something. The wide range ideas, or things to which I come up with, are things NOT normally my style, let alone interest. Yet, for some odd reason, I seem to know just exactly how a project must be done, and never had prior experiences. This is not a constant thing, but seems to come and go. This past few months, I’ve had way more episodes than in past years. The most crazy thing I do, is drive all over the USA without a map. Yes, never do I use one, yet, I seem to know and often feel like I’ve been on certain roads/highways in my past. Now the route from Canada through the Dakotas south to Texas and the Dakota’s west to Portland, I could explain and understand as my daddy took me with him in the summers, and we wintered in the Portland/Vancouver area.

        Elizabeth in WA : I have and do help others a lot. I seem to have the strong ability to know exactly what is wrong “medically” with other people, and have saved a few by blurting out or arguing with real doctors that they are not finding the problem and then I tell them what the problem is, they test and sure enough I am correct. This is all really weird to me as it’s really increased since 2009. I have strong medical intuitions.

        This past few months, my knowledge of different things has actually caused me some real concerns as if, or I am thinking, what the hell is going on… am I about to die or something. Some day’s I am on a non-stop roll, where it comes from is the mystery. One I would love to solve.

        • Elizabeth in WA says:

          Well, that is indeed unusual, Kay…very!! There must be a reason (tho’ in life I doubt we will necessarily know what that is) that you have been given these abilities!! It sounds like you rarely have time to sleep however!! Take care of yourself too!!

  22. Steve says:

    Sue, your play is wonderful and complimented the photos with the words of a skilled wordsmith. Please do more when any mood hits you. Your Love for Spike continues to
    shine through your grief. I am sure he is watching over you and Bridget as you enjoy yourselves each and everyday.
    Steve Kaeseman, SK1(SW), USN (Ret)

  23. Barb from Hoquiam says:

    Sue, one of the things I enjoy most about your blog, is the honesty. Grief is part of life. Not an easy or simple part…
    Hoping your day can be shored up with some smiles. I think Spike would like that…
    I will never see another puddle without remembering a little black and white pup, who got so much from a wee soak.
    Hugs from Hoquiam via Orting,

    • Sidewinder Pen says:

      Nicely put, Barb. Sue, I’m glad you don’t “fake it” (and it seems we also try not to do that in the comments, which I also am grateful for).

      Someday maybe you’ll be up to running over another Perky Pet feeder 😀 Until then we’ll just enjoy the various acts in the play 🙂

      • Crystal says:

        Pen, I’m behind in my reading, but wanted to state that some days back you commented on a book you have about choosing a dog. I believe I have the book you referred to, and it’s titled The Right Dog for You by Daniel Tortora. Very informative. Helped us to understand more about the different breeds as well as groups.

        • Sidewinder Pen says:

          That’s it! Thank you so much for taking the time to comment about it as I just couldn’t remember the exact title or author (and they have changed the cover design so it looks a bit different). Now I can stop trying to remember the name 😀

  24. AZ Jim says:

    You know Sue our minds are a wonder. You may recall that years ago I was a professional photographer for a large aerospace manufacturer and I had a nights and weekends job of police photo journalism in a large California county. I saw more horror in 6 years of that than you can imagine. At the time I even had recurring nightmares of loved ones replacing some of the victims. I quit for that reason. But the mind has it’s way of correcting for things that caused us pain. As time goes by the grief, the horror, whatever hurts you softens it’s raw edge and becomes bearable. Likewise, again thanks to our mind, the little things that were pleasant become sharper in our minds and memory. You most likely have experienced that in the past and you will once again when it comes to your boy, Spike. Keep that in mind and know how much that little guy loved you and would want you to remember all the great, funny and happy times you were together. You have my warm virtual hug Missy.

  25. RachelDLS says:

    For me, I have often thought that life itself was a play, with entrance lines and exit lines, the main players, the extras, sometimes missing our cues, sometimes played too well. So often with plays, which imitate life, it is those with great sorrow that can also show us great joy.

  26. Shirlene says:

    Pictures of your new camp please, although it is right next door, still new perspective and company, Yay! Oh, I am sorry…I forgot. Company, small yay. Food, Yay! Ok, thats better.

    • Denise - Richmond VA says:

      Hi, Shirlene,

      I am so with you! Inquiring blogorinos want to see the new site!

      Your past comments about going through Sue withdrawals makes me laugh. I thought I was the only one who obsessed….checking back for a new post and comments from “the family”!!!’ 🙂

      Hope you have a great evening!

    • weather says:

      It’s like our lives have a nearby theater…we look often to see which of the familiar cast has arrived-assembling with no script-each time one speaks they reveal more of who they are and feel.I’m equally “obsessed” with most I love in life-the golden threads of connection stretch as far as need be and never disappear.Staying abreast of each through thought,word,feeling-I look for and find them constantly.God,nature,art,beauty,knowledge,beings with two legs or many more-ones that fly with wings or in spirit…Why would I spend time on lesser things?To appear normal?by watching tv or pretending I don’t love much and am as cool as the next guy-moved only slightly-if at all- by what others may consider strange?The truth is those without capacity for profound attachment to what’s noble,true and lovely are also too shallow for their opinion to matter to me.I love them but need no approval or applause except from nail scarred hands.Denise ,I count you among those blessed with the capacity for passion I so admire and for one,love your checking back!

      • Denise - Richmond VA says:

        Hi, Weather,

        I apologize for my delayed response….just got back home from a movie night with a good friend. Thank you for your sweet comment. I love how you so beautifully convey your true heart into words! Enjoying and cherishing the simple pleasures in life is a good thing. I love and treasure the same things that you do. If others don’t “get it” (or me), so be it. Staying true to oneself is empowering. 🙂

        This is a favorite quote that is attributed to Mother Teresa. It sums things up so nicely.
        “People are often unreasonable, irrational and self centered. Forgive them anyway.
        If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
        If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.
        If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.
        What you spend years creating others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.
        If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
        The good you do today will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.
        Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.
        In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”

        It will probably be morning when you read this. Hope you had a peaceful, restful night. One more potty run for Gracie pup, then N’nite time for both of us!

        By the way…my mind’s eye I picture you as a very wise, self sufficient person, most comfortable at home, which I picture to be semi rural….lots of wild space for flora and fauna to thrive. Neighbors close enough if needed, but no lack of privacy. Quick to help a friend, neighbor or animal…even if it may be uncomfortable for you. Jeeping it into town when necessary. Proud beyond measure of your grandson. You are a good, kind-hearted person and a divine wordsmith. 🙂

        • Elizabeth in WA says:

          Just had to say, Denise, that is a great quote you shared and so true!! In our “cookie cutter mentality” society, tis not always easy to be different. Not for the sake of being different either…just for doing what is right and best. Thanks for sharing that!!

    • weather says:

      Denise in terms of being late to respond we’re even 🙂
      Meandering kept me long from this page.First,I picture you as a woman that takes in stride what many take more seriously.Perhaps enduring cruelty taught you- that just walking through things is a good way to leave things behind?I imagine then that you laugh and play in a child like way -that ones unable to be in the moment miss.Generous with kindness and compliments -as though you take opportunities to have and share happiness the moment they appear-you’d be a joy to be with.

      Your picture of me missed only one part I’ll mention to help you know me.My happiness behind the wheel on trips,long or short,with or without destinations, makes the road as much home to me as any building I’ve ever lived in.

      That those wonderful words are attributed to Mother Theresa doesn’t surprise me.What did surprise,and make me sad ,regarding her-was that because she passed on the same day as Princess Diana -the news was barely noticed.So as the media focused on the intrigue of Diana’s story ,the world lost the opportunity to consider how one small woman’s enormous love changed the earth.

      • Denise - Richmond VA says:

        Good morning, Weather!

        Well, I did not get a chance to check in yesterday – oh, the horror! 🙂

        You are a very perceptive woman – you “know” me quite well. It took a while for me to learn to walk through things. It usually is so much better on the “other side” of bad things. I am not immune to dark days, but really try to keep them in check. I have spent too much time in the past worrying and stressing about things and people that cannot be changed. I deal with the dark stuff when I have to, and then look for the light. 🙂

        Road trips – oh, yes, they are so much fun!

        I agree that it was disappointing that Mother Theresa’s passing did not get much media coverage. She was not media gold like Princess Diana…no dirt to dig up or dirty laundry to air. In some ways, she died like she lived….very quietly, not bringing attention to herself.

        Hope you have a great day, Weather! 🙂

        • weather says:

          My gosh ,thank you ever so-for giving me that insight into her passing on the way she always walked-how beautiful and true!It pleases me that you describe those fretful ways as being only in your past,and confirms my idea of who you are.Cheers-to roadtrips,fun and Light!see you on the next post 🙂

  27. Elizabeth in WA says:

    What a great idea, Sue, to take all those photos from the exact same spot and focus on that mt./hill with all the different plays of light on them….those would make a great framed photo group on a wall in a home too. That is what I WISHED we could have done with our awesome sunset last night. These are gorgeous shots you took!!

    I was thinking, in reading what you write about Spike here…there really are no others who can fill in the spot at least some pets have been in our lives (just as with some people when we loose them). I have had some dogs that simply did not leave me this way, but our last one…which is one reason I am not totally sure we will ever get another dog…was just so awesome and funny and loving…I am not sure I could stand not to have one who was largely like this now. And yes, sometimes I still have tears thinking about her and it has been nearly 4 years. I hope and pray however, especially your lifestyle, where I feel you need a dog or two, and being it is easier to loose one to a degree, when there is another one left (thus the need for 2 anyway)…that you will find another very unique dog that makes you laugh too. Some dogs are such joy-bringers…and how we need them!! Wishing you the best…Elizabeth still in WA

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Thank you, Elizabeth. I hope the pain of losing your pup will appear less often until only happy memories remain.

  28. Kathleen says:

    Hi Sue Loved your photographic play and descriptions of the moods of Loon Lake. I know you miss Spike not only his physical self but his “teenage antics”. He experienced life in a different way than Bridget does. He was adventurous, silly, unpredictable, and relished in the moment. Bridget seems more routine, set in her ways, and just not wanting to color outside the lines. Makes a big difference in your life for sure. I know you don’t look at facebook, but it sort of reminds me of a picture going around of two much older women on a roller coaster in the front seat laughing their fool heads off. Embracing fun, never too old to experience, and enjoying the moment. Bridget is like the one lady who is standing at the exit waiting and saying you two are crazy! Might it be time to visit an animal shelter and see if you see an adventurous soul waiting for release? Am I wrong?

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Hi, Kathleen,

      You really have Bridget figured out perfectly. I’m not quite ready to bring another dog home. Someday . . . .

      • Kathleen says:

        I know your broken heart needs to mend. But I bet Spike in the beautiful ever after might even lead you to just the right soul. I think you’d sense it when looking into the eyes of another loveable little guy. Just a thought. No one will ever replace Spike but someone might fill the funny, unpredictable and loveable place you so loved him for.

  29. Cari in Plano Texas says:

    This was a lovely post, in both words and pictures. When I saw the title, I thought you were going to talk about us, your blogorino ‘family’ and our different roles as cast members in this great production of life. 🙂

    What a great idea to take the same scene and photograph it at different times. And the words and theme of this post are awesome! You are so talented, even if you don’t realize it. Thank you for sharing this with us.

  30. COLLEEN / MARYLAND says:


  31. Judy Johnson says:

    My first posting. You have the most amazing gift with words…and pics! Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with us. You touch my heart.

  32. JodeeinSoCal says:

    Spike still inspires your writing 🙂 and likely always will at some level. The “plotline” I see now is you and Bridget just hanging out, just “being girls”, giving each other quiet strength, not rushing to fill the void. It doesn’t make me sad, it reminds me that life goes on – with all the many moods of the rock and the soul.

  33. Mick'nTN says:

    The many moods of Loon Lagoon portraying the many moods of life. A beautiful essay RvSue&Crew. Thanks!

  34. Teri in SoCal says:

    You write. We Read. We’re happy. (at least it seems as though most of us feel this way)

    Sometimes when I read through the comments, I try to picture each person in my mind, and I’m probably way off. Haha! But I have come to the conclusion that you have the best group of commenters of any blog. They are funny, kind, supportive, smart, and pretty amazing. I just love coming here.

  35. BadgerRickInWis says:

    Your play is so beautiful that I have no words.

    But I am reminded of another playwright who like you seemed to have a way with words:

    “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
    I summon up remembrance of things past,
    I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
    And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:
    Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,
    For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
    And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
    And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight:
    Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
    And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
    The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
    Which I new pay as if not paid before.
    But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
    All losses are restor’d and sorrows end.”

    ~William Shakespeare

  36. Pauline from Mississippi says:

    WOW!!! Absolutely breathtaking…the pictures and your commentary. I always tell people; “Susan can write about paint drying and you will be on the edge of your seat.” Today’s post was much more than paint drying…it was you and your heart. You have such a way with words. You share so much of yourself and that is what endears your readers. I know you were not soliciting pity…you were explaining your feelings in a very wonderful way. We understand the lack of humor and that is not needed in every post. What you put into your post is YOU….and we love YOU. We are taking this ride with you….not just the smooth, beautiful, easy road…but all the twists, turns, uphill and down…over all the bumps. You make us laugh and cry, you inspire us to look at each day as it comes, to recognize the beauty and importance of the little things. At the same time, you teach us that sometimes the little things are just that…little things. You show us the wonder of the vast West or of a butterfly on a flower. You educate us in so many ways. THANK YOU!!!

    And if your followers think I am proud of you….they are RIGHT!

    Sending lots of love and BIG HUGS to you and Bridget

    • Shirlene says:

      Wow, you made me cry! Such admiration.

      • BuckeyePatti (Ohio) says:

        Beautifully said, Pauline. Us blogorinos DO understand and appreciate that Sue hasn’t crawled under the covers to hide, because that’s what I might have done! Happy or sad, good times or bad, she inspires us all.

    • Elizabeth in WA says:

      Well, said, Pauline…and might I add, oh that all of us had such a sibling!! YOU are also a blessing…not only to Sue but the rest of us here “watching”. I do try to pick my own sisters as GOD never gave me a real one…and that has its own blessing too…but not quite to the extent a real one might be. Having that of past history etc…

    • Wow Pauline, you said everything in my heart! You also have the gift of words! I fumble for words a bit too often, reading all the beautiful words expressed here sometimes silences me. I love the blogorino comments! This is such a fun place to visit and you, Sue, created this comfey little corner f the world where we can all meet every day! Thank you for that. Thank you also for the amazing photographs today. Just beyond words!

    • I guess it runs in my he family. 🙂

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      I love you, Pauline.

  37. Cinandjules (NY) says:

    You have an amazing gift…..your pictures and words have a way of perfectly describing the scenery, feelings and mood.

    Even when there is an absence of words….the message is crystal clear. We get it!

    Have a great time with Kathy and Gil! I’m sure the company will be uplifting to you and Bridget! Hmmm…maybe they’ll surprise you with an eclair! Go for it! Bridget will walk it off you tomorrow!

    Hugs to you and Bridget!

  38. weather says:

    OK.Teri,I’ll bite 🙂 Describe what you think or guess I look like-this game might be a lot of fun!And please don’t worry about insulting or hurting me-I’m really secure and just love playing-

    • Shirlene says:

      Oh, Oh, can I play? 🙂

      • weather says:

        I hope everyone does!

        • Shirlene says:

          Weather, my picture of you changed when I found out you had a jeep! So in my mind that makes you a get off the porch and get out and do it kind of person, younger than your wisdom in writing. Tall and strong. Longer hair. Only thing missing is where do you live, east coast, west coast, southwest, plains, mountains…where ever it is I think I love it. How am I doing so far?

        • weather says:

          Shirlene-how fun-you started getting “warm” by picking up on the jeep!I live on the largest lake fully contained by the state of NY-so-o-you first thought I sat on the porch with old age as a blanket-interesting and hilarious-I love this!I’ll take a wild shot about you now.Mid-height sweet faced agile bodied all girl-never worn steel toed boots in your life?

          • Shirlene says:

            Weather, that is so funny…I drive a jeep and a 2003 Baby blue Thunderbird convertible, blonde, over 65, live at the beach in So Cal, would love to wear steel toed shoes..avid steam fisherwoman, birder and of course avid RV Sue and Weather follower.

          • weather says:

            Shirlene-at least I was close-blonde- beach living-describes things as BABY blue-all girl.Jeep driver-agile enough to climb in and out of it and love it-check.

    • Teri in SoCal says:

      Weather, for some reason when I picture you in my mind I just get an image of a woman at a small desk, looking out of a window. Her view is a gorgeous autumn setting with gorgeous color (how silly since we are barely out of summer), and she is pensive. I don’t see her face. I know, it’s strange.

      But I think it’s because you have this amazing way of putting words together and the end result is like poetry. Maybe my vision is due to me thinking that you put a lot of thought into the things you write? But while you are writing you have a lovely view of the world somehow.

      • weather says:

        Wow!I have a desk by a window,though I’ve never once written there- I study for hours.Pensive for large parts of the day,when I write it’s spontaneous,whether on keyboard or paper.I put a lot of thought into what lovely things in life I’ve been given to view- far less into writing.There has always been an air of autumn about me,so much that someone in love with me only called me Rustle(as in -of the autumn leaves)which isn’t my name at all.I’ll guess California called you there because you are strong and fresh,inside and out-given to steadiness-,and your smile brings light to all you greet- your rare tears are sudden storms.

        • Teri in SoCal says:

          I will admit to being strong, and given to steadiness. My family and friends tell me they are happier when I am around, but only because it’s my calling in life to make them laugh, and when I succeed that’s when my smile is real.

          My tears lately aren’t too rare, however they are sudden storms. BIG storms. But I try to do that only when I am at home alone. That way no one freaks out. 🙂 I will continue to believe that things will get better!

          • weather says:

            Amazing how well we’re able to “see” and “read” each other from black and white letters on a page,in ways more accurate and profound than those right around us are usually capable of.I believe with and for you that far better times are just ahead!!!Thank you ever so for the game,it gave me a lot.Storms serve wonderful purposes,and ARE often best gone through alone,fondly,weather

  39. paul says:

    Sue, just kep doing what you do…it is so comforting…don’t change anything. We all KNOW exactually what Sue is going through. If you only knew how the Lord is using your BLOG for GOOD


  40. Tawanda (Ut) says:

    Sue, your pictures and writings with them, wow, finding it hard to find words to describe, but certainly feel your words!
    Wondering if it would be ok to use one of your pictures for my desktop?
    Have been following along in the shadows of late enjoying the ride that takes me away for a bit from my current life as caregiver, which at times feels a bit all consuming and stifling!!
    Enjoy your company and peanut butter/saltines.. 😉

  41. Diann in MT says:

    What a fantastic photo study in mood and reflection (of personal musings). Thanks for sharing your intimate thoughts and putting them to such fabulous imagery. That’s why I read your blog: your simple yet deep creativity, Sue.

  42. Alan Rabe says:

    I am glad to see you are doing what I often suggest to learning photographers. That is to take the same photo under different conditions. It is the best way to learn how important a role light plays in making an image. The sun shines thru in places lighting up the various parts in different ways really exemplifies what conditions make for the best images. That is the best part of digital cameras as it doesn’t cost you anything to take dozens of images while with film it can be quite costly. But you learn when and when not to take an image knowing that the result will or won’t be what you are looking for. Keep up the good work.
    And as always Enjoy.

  43. Applegirl NY says:

    Absolutely lovely post. Enjoy time with your friends. We’re all secretly jealous that we aren’t them!

  44. Cheryle B. says:

    Beautiful post, beautiful pictures and beautiful memories of Spike.
    Hang in there Sue,

  45. Sue (Alabama) says:

    Wow, you have out done yourself with those pictures! The mood changes with each one! I wish I had your way with words. The comments from everyone are so moving and emotional that by the time I got to the bottom I was in tears! Thank you, Sue for sharing your heart with us, I know how hard that must be for such a private person. As I was reading this I kept thinking of all the family, friends and fur babies that have been in my life and reflected on the good times and hard times we all spent together and how blessed I was to have had them all in my life.

    Thanks this time with friends to regroup, laugh, and enjoy!! Love to you and Bridgett

  46. Michelle says:

    Love this!

  47. Monica says:

    I love your blog! You have taught me so much in the short period of time that I have been following you. I discovered your blog this summer while researching Casitas. I have spent many nights reading your posts. Not only have I learned about boondocking, but also regions of the USA that I never knew existed. One day I’m going to find Loon Lagoon Camp, and I will camp there with my husband. You have a way of capturing the beauty of a moment and illustrating it well on your blog-even when your camera was broken. Sue, you are a very special person. I thank you for sharing your adventures with us. HUGS

  48. Kellee says:

    Hi Sue – I lost my beautiful Becker last week – he was a Jack Russell with Jack Russell to spare, but he was tired and his body was shutting down and it was time to say good-bye. It has been so difficult. My sister wrote me a lovely note that brought me much peace… I thought I would share some of it with you.

    “Becker was a special dog, so sweet and loyal, Always your protector. Know that he knew he was loved and happy.”

    I cry as I look at her card and it was important to me that he knew how much I loved him. Becker was my heart. I never tell people I know how they feel but in this case, I understand the lead coat analogy.

    Peace and beauty. Kellee

    • Teri in SoCal says:

      Kellee, I’m so sorry for your loss of Becker.

    • Elizabeth in WA says:

      Please accept my sympathy too…on the loss of your wonderful dog. I so understand!!

      • Kellee says:

        Thank you Teri and Elizabeth! I think one of my other dogs is sad too. Funny how close animals can get to each other (emotionally).

        • Sue (Alabama) says:

          I agree that our dogs do feel the loss of their pal. My Yoda, started acting up after the loss of his sister, chewing everything in site, going potty in the house and on beds. We tried everything to help him but ended up having to give him to a friend. When he moved to his new home it was such a big change for him that all his bad behavior stopped. It was so hard to give him away but so glad that the home he went to loved him dearly.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Dear Kellee,

      I’m terribly sorry for the loss of your sweet pal, Becker. Your comment that “he was a Jack Russell with Jack Russell to spare” has me thinking he was like Spike in his younger years… adventurous, energetic, a real bundle of canine muscle always ready to get going, living life at full throttle!

      It’s sad when they slow down and the days lose excitement for them. I hated watching Spike ache with arthritis. Now both Becker and Spike are pain free.

      You have my sincere sympathy.

      • Sidewinder Pen says:

        I had a wire-haired fox terrier as my dog growing up. He was mellow “for a terrier,” but still had that terrier vibe – a wonderful dog. I remember reading once about their personality that “each terrier is born with its own leather jacket.” Thinking of that always makes me smile.

        PS: When my Mom was growing up she wanted pets badly – especially a dog – but her parents were the “no pets and certainly not in the house” types, so she never had one. So of course to make up for that we had dogs, cats, birds, fish, turtles… you name it! She also always had a dog (and sometimes cats) when she “became her own adult” after we were all out of the house (by which I mean, lived alone as a single adult vs. doing things for kids while they were at home).

      • Kellee says:

        Thank you! Becker knew I was sad about spike. I like to think they are up there raising Cain and playing in water.

  49. Ron Sears says:

    Great show! Sad ending…..be safe

  50. Kristin says:

    Goodness, what an achingly accurate description of grief… I would add that there’s also that smaller lead suit that hangs so heavy on the heart, as well. We’ve all been there, we know what you’re going through, Sue, and our hearts ache, too. The good thing is that you will eventually get through it and it just shows what an amazing impact our pets have on our lives.

  51. Sandy says:

    It takes time, Sue. When my husband died, it felt like my sense of humor wanted to/was buried right along with him. (I did, however, experience moments of joy on almost a daily basis). So give yourself time. You sort of have to reflect on every single memory you have of your loved one, and you have so, so many with Spike. That’s the mourning process. So everything you are feeling is normal. Enjoy the joy, and know that in time, eventually, your sense of humor will return. Sandy

  52. Rita says:

    I’ve had to go back and re-read and re-look at your blog and pictures…I read it but I don’t comprehend or see for days. I miss Spike in the photos and his soaking in water. I am listening but not talking…I know you are not soliciting sympathy but sharing and talking about a part of you that is missing now. We are the dear friends who here to just listen to you. Please go on…….

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Hi, Rita,

      I understand if you would rather listen than talk here. You’re coping with a huge loss and, as so many have expressed here, you need time. Thank you for for listening to me.

  53. DebsJourney says:

    Sue your photo’s are absolutely gorgeous and I so appreciate you. The many moods in life we all have and you showed it so beautifully. Boy do I understand the waves of grief! Lately I talk to myself specially when driving and say Debbie I love you and give myself a big pep talk. Often saying Mark wants you to succeed and be healthy so stop eating sugar and not loving yourself etc …. etc. It seems to help. I cry and probably that won’t go away for a long time but I’m trying to move on. One tiny step at a time. I can’t believe how deeply I love my two dogs they are my dear girls and if you decide the time is right for you to add to your family I suggest a Chihuahua they are unbelievable joy. Easy to carry too. Just sayin.. all pups are wonderful.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Thank you, Deb. I admire you for working on your grief in such an active, positive way. I’m sorry the pain makes you cry, dear one. Best wishes for each “tiny step” that moves your life forward.

  54. Denise - Richmond VA says:

    Hi, Sue,

    Your photo study of The Rock is stunning, It is amazing how the play of light can so drastically change the mood of the same subject. Great job!

    Please don’t apologize for your missing funny bone. We can read between the lines and know that some days are better than others. It is ok. When we lose someone we love, their is a shift in the universe…things are forever changed. It takes a while to adjust to the new “normal.” Things will get better with time.

    I hope you enjoy your visit with Kathy and Gil….I’m sure you will be receiving a bountiful care package! 🙂

    Happy First Day of Fall to you and your blogorino family. I am so ready for sweater weather to be here to stay!! It in the high 60’s here today. We are expecting temps back up to the low 80’s this weekend and into next week. Crazy!

  55. Diann in MT says:

    Happy Dance!! Hope you are having fun with your friends, Gil and Kathy! The soul needs the presence of friendly souls every once in awhile. Hah! Friends. The balm.

  56. Bless you and Bridget. Take care of yourselves, that matters most.

  57. Reine says:

    Absolutely LOVE the pictures today. They are some of your best. No problem about sharing your view of grief. You put into words what many people feel and reading about it can help others understand that they aren’t alone in the feelings. I’ve also found that a new grief can revive memories of things we grieved about in the past whether lost opportunities, relationships that didn’t work out, or other hurts and they all seem to “pile on” again. There’s no way you get to retirement age without having a lot of bumps in the road. My prayer is that the Lord will smooth the road.

    The final picture reminds me of part of Psalm Psalm 30:5 “weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” Joy WILL come and we will enjoy your telling of the journey your on because it’s OUR journey too.

  58. Patsy - Ontario says:

    Dearest Sue..
    Grief has no measure of time, no expression of the heart or soul. To each they feel, heal in their own time, and sometime never. I to lost my dad when he was only 63 my son was only 18 months and they had a relationship like no other I had ever seen. He was a hard worker, caring loving man who never got to see it grow to old age. Its been 12 yrs and my heart still hurts. I have lost some great pets along the way and still when I look at their pictures or think of them my heart hurts. You do not ever need to apologize to this group as most have been following you from day one, and know deep down what kind of heart / soul you have. As some one said we are here with you every step of the way and we all know how difficult this time is for you. The photo’s are beautiful and your play on words amazing. You lift our hearts and souls that you share this with us every day. You may not see us, feel us, hear us or see us but we hold your hand when you need us to, hug you when you need one and walk a step next to you. Hugs

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Oh, Patsy… The magnitude of your loss took my breath away. I can’t imagine the sharpness and depth of the pain. What courage you had and continue to have in order to keep going. Of course your heart still hurts from suffering such a tragic loss. I am very sorry. Thank you for comforting me.

  59. Sue says:

    You are an inspiration Sue. I still tear up 6 years later. This poem reminds me that my Pup had a good and happy life….
    Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you…I loved you so~’twas Heaven here with you.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      That is a touching poem, Sue. Thank you. Spike did live heaven on earth. I’m sorry you still hurt for your pal.

  60. Sondra-SC says:

    The symbolism of the sun moving along the rock front is very fitting to your grief as it moves through phases also, grief has stages, and it is true. I have lost my father, countless aunts uncles, grandparents, and beloved animal friends and having older family go through illness brings on grief. I’ve mentioned Sundance…after his death I blamed myself…he was old but I felt I didn’t do enough to keep him strong and fit to face his elder years he passed at 28. Denial, Isolation, Anger, Control, and Acceptance. You said you are moody and I think you are going back and forth between Isolation and Anger. There is no set time it will take you to get into the control phase and beyond…my sister spent an entire year in the control stage (if only I had done more, if only he had’t contracted a disease, if only I had more control of the situation etc) I lost Sundance in 1996. He was my special soul mate… he was just a horse to everyone else…after his sudden death I dreamed of him nightly for years (I’m talking 15 yrs of dreams) till I could barely stand to fall asleep!!! I awoke crying, screaming for him, I rode him again in my dreams he took me to weird places, I often found him dead in my dreams…and it ripped a new hole in me….nightmares came constantly till finally IN one dream I went to his grave site (which is right here on our land) and asked him to move on without me….go into the realm of the spirit life and wait for me ’cause I could no longer endure the pain of missing him. It worked!! I know it sounds hokey…but it gave me the strength to live the rest of my life without him here…knowing he is waiting for me. I hope you can make a deal with Spike, he will wait for you.

    • Dear Sondra,
      No it doesn’t sound hokey to me. What a long and hard struggle you have been through. Dreams…such a huge part of our lives that we often ignore….sometimes though they are the best way we have of communicating honestly with ourselves and with others on a spiritual level.
      So glad that you were able to guide Sundance to a peaceful place where he can wait for you, and as a result you are experiencing some healing as well.
      Hugs and peace to you.

      • Sondra-SC says:

        Thank you Micky, I feel you understand the connection I had with Sundance we were together 21 years…it was like losing a brother when he died, and I think the inner me was not ready to let go…now I’m at peace with it until its my time.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Hi, Sondra,

      Your bond with Sundance was and is incredibly strong. I’m glad his spirit is free and you have found peace.

      I don’t recognize the 5 steps of grief in me. I may have been in denial when I wrote a blog post the morning Spike died. I don’t feel any anger at all. I wouldn’t do anything differently. I don’t regret not taking him to the doctor sooner because he hated the two capsules in the morning and I hated the struggle. I’d rather that he had those months of happy mornings, eating his breakfast with gusto, not avoiding me because of pills.

      I’m not angry because he didn’t live longer. It was good he left when he did. He was an active boy and living with deafness, the aches of arthritis, and other age-related infirmities wasn’t for him. I’m glad he went how and when he did. No deal is necessary.

      My moodiness is simply the shifts between being happy living the life of my dreams shared with Bridget and missing Spike in the daily routine. For over 3 years we spent 24 hours every day together. I go from gladness to sadness to gladness and so forth. . .

      Thank you for sharing what you went through and for your concern for me.

  61. Teresa from NC says:

    Beautiful photos and beautifully said. I’m touched by it all.

  62. Deb from NJ says:


    Great play! Wonderful!

  63. CC says:

    This was one of your best posts, ever Sue….really tugged at my heart. You have the soul of a poet, you know. That analogy of grief being like a lead vest, was –powerful, and perfectly right. Keeping you in my thoughts, I have walked this road as well, with my Bandit, my best friend of 17 years.

  64. Edie (OK) says:


    The pictures are awesome!!!

    Thank of for being real, and sharing your life’s journeys with us.

  65. wa_desert_rat says:

    Beautiful photo essay. There is something about the way the light plays on a desert that often can make a person just gasp in wonder.

    Just as there is something about a little white butt leading the way home that can make a person laugh. 🙂


  66. Lacy says:

    Hang in there Sue. There’s no right way or wrong way, there’s your way – even if you aren’t sure which way that is right now. You’re doing good, even if you don’t know it.


  67. Mert says:

    Amazing photos!! Amazing words!! Amazing comments!! Thank you all!! And thoughts and prayers for you all.

  68. Sue,
    I cannot help but think of how long you have known Spike. He wasn’t just a part of your life, he was a part of you! Now with him gone, a part of you is also missing. This requires time to redefine yourself. Personally, I have to say that I think it totally sucks that not only is one stuck with grieving but also having to redefine oneself is almost torturous! It is a lot of work.

    In my own life when I lost what felt like everything that meant anything to me, I grieved a really deep hard grief. Forget the lead apron – it often felt more like I had a two ton boulder on my chest! Those were the times I couldn’t breathe. I always thought that was just an expression, not an actual experience. Finally the weight began to decrease and there I was, faced with having to reinvent myself. That very reality often threw me right back into the grieving process. Now, finally, I’m emerging from the whole thing.

    I wanted my white knight to come along to rescue me but apparently that’s the stuff of fairy tales so I had to do that myself.

    I, for one, love your down and dirty reality posts. I always love your blog but, for me, when you write from the depths I find it your best writing.


    • Sidewinder Pen says:

      That’s interesting, Deborah. When I think back to the loss of my pup being “fresh,” one of the things that really hit me was how it was the end of an era. I mean, there I was almost 50 and he had been my constant sidekick since I was just barely into my 30’s! We had gone through so much of life together as a team, and somehow losing this connection to so many “chapters” of my young adult life hit me hard (in addition to specific grief for him, obviously).

      As I think back on it, I had a mild version of the same feeling when the car I had inherited from my Dad was totalled in an accident. It was like my last thread of parental connection was cut (and I mean, it wasn’t even a “special” car in the grand scheme of things, but more what it symbolized).

      Having to re-define one’s self…. yes that is definitely part of it (at least for some).

      I really enjoy how so many of the comments here make me think – and forge a bond between us all.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      I’m glad that you are “emerging,” Deborah. You are your own best rescuer.

  69. Rawn says:

    I understand Sue, grief is like that. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, one blog in front of another. And keep enjoying your blessed life!

  70. Good morning, Sue. Loved this post. Your photos are your best ever, Sue! Seeing the rock and the water change with the cloud cover & amount of light reminded me of how the ocean changes with similar changes. We also see that in the waters of the Salish Sea surrounding the island. Our world is so incredibly breathtaking.

    Grief’s a funny thing. Just when you think you’re doing alright & can breathe again, it sneaks into you’re mind & heart. My Dad died in January 2012–5 minutes after I had arrived at my parents’ home for a visit & after a 2-hour journey that involved dawdling. Coincidence? Was he waiting for me? Who knows? We had a…challenging/difficult/conflictual relationship that improved only after I decided to reach out to him when I was in my 50’s. With all that, there are days I still miss him. And there are days–weeks or even months really when I don’t. So grief ebbs & flows as life goes on & a new normal sets in.

  71. Barrie says:

    Hi Sue,
    On the bright side… I had 2 cats, a brother/sister, for a dozen years. The male was dominant. He passed a couple of years ago and I pass his grave each time I mow the property. The female has blossomed with her newly found freedom. She expresses herself in ways she wouldn’t when her brother was here. It’s normal to grieve. Your bond with Bridget grows stronger. Enjoy!
    All the best,

  72. Cheryl says:

    You know longer greet me,
    As I walk through the door.
    You’re not there to make me smile,
    To make me laugh anymore.
    Life seems quiet without you,
    You were far more than a pet.
    You were a family member, a friend,
    ..A loving soul I’ll never forget.

    It will take time to heal
    For the silence to go away.
    I still listen for you,
    And miss you every day.
    You were such a great companion,
    Constant, loyal and true.
    My heart will always wear
    the paw prints left by you.
    — author unknown

    I was very sad to ready about Spike. I too an still grieving over the loss of my furry best friend 8 months ago, so take your time, have joy in your play and Bridget.

  73. Dyann Meschi says:

    I have wondering how you’ve be fairing with the loss of your Spike. It is so hard when a fur baby leaves us. I lost my dog in December 2013 and it felt like my heart was ripped from my chest. (He was also a Rattie, too.) Though I have since gotten a puppy, one that keeps me on my toes, I miss my first “pup” (I call all dogs that) so very, very much. I hope your heart finds some solace as soon as the time is right. Just from here, I miss reading of Spikes soaks in the mud and cool waters. It’s a sure bet we know what he’s doing up there in puppy heaven. Sue, I pray a new furry soul will also cross your path at the right time.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Hi, Dyann,

      Thank you for your comforting words. There’s something about a rattie, eh? We may never stopping missing them. That’s okay. They were worth it!

  74. Marsha/MI says:

    Gorgeous pictures of the many moods of “The Rock.”

    Take all the time you need to grieve. We’re here for you and always will be.

    Virtual hug.

  75. Cinandjules (NY) says:

    Oh DeGin

    Just wondering how things are going.

    • DesertGinger says:

      Hi Cindy….waiting on my INR to come down below 1.5 before they operate on this abscess and drain it. For now, just sitting here on pain meds, relaxing. Thanks for thinking of me. Xo

      • Sidewinder Pen says:

        I think I speak for many here when I say we have you on our minds. Glad you are relaxing and have a way to communicate with the gang here.

  76. Shirlene says:

    Good Morning Sue, Well it was quite a day on the blog yesterday, many heart felt comments, several bringing tears to my eyes…BUT today is a new day and time to move on to much lighter topics, like, how was your visit with K&G. And yes we were all quite jealous that it was not us sitting there with you and Bridget, enjoying conversation in that lovely setting. I am having my morning coffee and waiting for more of my favorite bloggers to appear with words of wisdom (Weather) or just something that makes me smile. Sorry about your connection problems, but yesterday would have been difficult, so many comments, so little time. Onward and upward, start your engines, we are ready for another adventure. Oh, please tell us what you had for dinner, I know that it was probably a shared occasion.

  77. Patricia from Florida says:

    Good Morning Shirlene
    I like your post. Onward and Upward. Fresh day to start anew. I too am waiting for the daily post from Weather, which I so enjoy.
    Ok Sue, we need an update. How was your get together with Kathy and Dan? Have the saltines and peanut butter arrived?
    Soggy and wet here in Florida, but still beautiful. Felt a little coolness to the air yesterday, autumn on the way?

  78. DesertGinger says:

    Your humor is intact Sue; it just isn’t the right time for a lot of humor. Grieving takes time and energy and, at it’s worst, doesn’t leave much for anything else. Grief owns your body, even if you try to shake it off. When my husband died all I could do for 3 weeks was sleep, eat and read tony hillerman books. Read every book he ever wrote in 3 weeks. You have found a pattern with Bridget…I assume you get up and have coffee, maybe breakfast. Then you go for a morning walk. But you have a pattern. Trust that your body knows what to do to heal. Just go slow and be gentle and patient with yourself. Enjoy the lovely scenery. You do need to move yourself south soon! We are almost into October!

    I am sitting in hospital while they wait for my INR to come down.. They want it under 1.5 before they operate on this abscess in my belly. It might be a day or two. Then they will open it, drain it, and pack it with something sterile. And they will start trying to raise my INR again. So, just killing time.

    Can’t wait to hear about your visit from Kathy and Gil.

    • Shirlene says:

      Hi DG, you need to read your uplifting post when you start to get down, good job with that….we are here to listen to all that you have to say about your healing process, which is a process….keep your chin up, you have a family of blogorinos here that are concerned and caring.

    • Elizabeth in WA says:

      Wishing you the best Ginger…sorry you are in the midst of such troubles!!

    • Teri in SoCal says:

      Desert Ginger,

      Just wanted to let you know that I hope you are out of that hospital soon! Lots of us here think about you, and wish you well.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Thanks for the thoughtful message and for giving us an update on your situation. I’ve been looking to see you appear. Wishing you well . . .

    • Edie (OK) says:

      Wishing you well Ginger. You have an amazing attitude!

    • Krystina in Casper WY says:

      My prayers are still with you DG…hope you are back in the saddle SOON.

    • Illinois Jane says:

      Your message carries so much wisdom. Thank you. Very nicely said.

      My best to you as you undergo the situation you are in. Take good care.

  79. Just catching up after a week in Oregon that included a few new experiences for me – Frisbee golf and zip lining. The pictures of this location are gorgeous. The early comments about working for retirement and then dying before getting to really “live” life reminded me of discussions I’ve had with my wife on the subject. She has a really good job, which she likes, and which pays very well. However, she wants to work another eight-plus years so as to qualify for the company’s pension plan. me, I am ready to go yesterday, at least mentally. I’m not quite sure how to bridge that gap.

    I’ve also begun to come to the conclusion that full-timing will not be in my future, even though the idea has been a part of my mental makeup for at least five years. After our trip to Oregon, my wife concluded that she could not live in an RV full-time because we would spend too much time together, something we don’t do so much of at home. I alternate between blaming myself for having such a need for alone time and being upset at what I perceive as neediness on her part. Mostly, though, I blame myself for perceived shortcomings in my mental and emotional beings. It isn’t quite the same as grieving the loss of a friend or loved one, but there is a sense of grief for the loss of a dream, nonetheless.

    • Patricia from Florida says:

      Walt in Boise
      Don’t give up on your dream, just modify it.
      Here’s an idea:
      You retire, get a simple rig and be a part timer on your own. Your wife can continue working at her very liked job and can enjoy your company in between your camping trips.

    • Elizabeth in WA says:

      Losses of dreams come in many ways, Walt. But in time, sometimes years later, the “new” dream can be wonderful too…we are in the midst of such a thing. Years ago, all we ever dreamed or hoped for came to ashes…In Nampa no less. We had to leave Idaho, when we both never dreamed of living anyplace else. We have been somewhat vagabonds, tho’ living for years sometimes in other places. Now we do have a final goal and dream for our remaining years of life…yet, it may never come to be. We are here in Seattle area to help one of our children…yet, a lot of our time here has been to take care of our own medical needs…tho’ we certainly never had THAT as a plan in coming here last year. Now we see that we probably had some of the most top notch doctors we could have found…so we see that the timing of all this is something we could not have planned for. I hope you, in time, will find ways to still live out at least part of your dreams…you do live in an area that is not so very far from some gorgeous outback country if you want to take advantage of that. Being together in small places 24/7 does take adjustment and TIME I have found (hubby retired now 2.5 years ago)…during which time we have both taken on a task that has helped us to adjust too (learning another language and studying together). Our apt. here is not much bigger than a large motorhome. I wish you well in finding some more common ground with your wife.

      • Shirlene says:

        Life is all about change. Modify, modify, modify. You will find your zen.

      • Sondra-SC says:

        I read a blog that belongs to a married lady, she takes off for extended stays in her RV doing the travel she wants to do while her other half stays home and does his thing..I bet there is a way to make it work out so everyone gets to satisfy their dream without disappointment. This is what I have to figure out with all the family ties I have, how will I be able to get the solitude I need to feel that my life is being fulfilled? Balance and planning I am guessing.

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Of course you are grieving, Walt! I understand you feeling a great loss.

    • Walt, I certainly don’t want to get between you and your wife, and I won’t. But, your comments are a stark reminder of how blessed I am that my wife and I share so much in common. We absolutely love RVing and can hardly wait to get on the road. Both of us feel this way. But RVing is not for everyone. Maybe it’s not for your wife. How much has she experienced it? Is there ANY possibility that some well-planned short trips could be planned to get everybody used to what it CAN be? If not, either there has to be some compromise, or one of you has to take a back seat.

      I know one thing. I can’t tell you how many acquaintances, I’ve had who literally worked until death chasing a pension. I took less just to retire a bit earlier.It’s been 5 years and I’ve never regretted it. And we are certainly not wealthy. Far from it. We live modestly, everything is paid for or paid off. We’re actively working our Escape Plan and are in the graduating Class of 2016.

      You need an Escape Plan of your own.

      • She loves RVing, but because we spend less time together at home than in an RV (mostly my fault), she’s not sure she can handle us being so together all the time as we would in an RV. We were both on board with the idea of full-timing until we came home after our last eight-day trip, which was well-planned.

        We’ve been RVing since 2007, starting with a pop-up tent trailer and now on our second fifth-wheel. I hope I can get her back on board, but if not I will be the one taking the back seat as she has the much better paying job which would make it possible for us to buy our full-timing rig should that ever happen. She just happens to like her job and does not need to do it to pay off debts. We also have an autistic son whose future we are trying to save for, which throws another wrench into the equation.

        I guess for now, my escape plan is the one that comes to all of us eventually, but things change all the time, so who knows?

  80. Kaye from Oregon says:

    Talking about signs from the dearly departed….My Dad passed away when he was 54 and I was 33. He was an alcoholic and at the time he passed his car was one of those older turquiose colored Cadillacs with the big finned tail lites. About 2 months after he passed I was out driving doing errands and in the lane next to me a big finned turquiose Cadillac pulled along side of me. I was sad seeing it so I tried to pull ahead a little. Next thing I knew he sped up to be beside me again. When I looked over -the driver tipped up a Bud-lite and drank a sip in front of me-then he gave me a BIG SMILE and drove away. Dad drank Bud-lites and the hardstuff too. Talk about eerie. I sensed that it was Dad’s way of telling me not to be sad -that he was smiling and very happy where he was. But…shame on that driver drinking and driving !!!!! I have told a few close friends about the incident and I think they might wonder if I am a little crazy ????? But I an very sane and believe there are things that just can’t be explained……Has any other blogerino had a sign they feel was from departed loved one????

    • Sondra-SC says:

      …all the time I get these feelings–my dad died at 53 from same problem as yours…I was 11 tho when he passed, so I feel he helps me to figure out the parts of life he missed in person.

      • Kaye says:

        To Sondra from SC I am so sorry that you lost your Dad at only 11 years old. I was so lucky to have 33 years with my Dad and that he was a very kind not abusive Father. Alcoholism was a hard thing for the family tho causing divorce. It sounds like your Dad has been your guardian Angel !

  81. Kaye from Oregon says:

    To Walt in Boise – concerning couples spending time together in retirement -We have been married 44 yrs. My hubby loved his self employment job so much he chose to work it 6 days a week. I had 3 totally different jobs myself plus child raising. Half my working years as a stay at home Mom so I became very independant & self entertaining! So when hubby retired 9 yrs ago all of a sudden he wanted almost all his free time with me. YIKES ! What an adjustment. Good thing his goes to coffee buddies from 9:30-11:30 so I get some time to myself. Only once in 9 years has he went fishing for 2 days with our sons. If your wife is like me and likes time to herself she might really like the idea of u having some short trips maybe go with a fishing buddy. Then when you reunite u can appreciate what you each missed about the other one while u were apart ! And you will both be loving your adventures and alone time fullfilling some of your own bucket lists !!!

    • Alan Out and About says:

      Your story reminds of a recurring tale I heard from truck drivers when I used to drive. Of course truckers spend about all their time on the road and would come home for a weekend every couple of months or so. Then when they retired the wife found out she didn’t really like him anymore and divorced him. I guess absence doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder.

    • I think maybe for her it is the flip side of that. For years, she wanted us to spend more time together but finally realized I wasn’t much good at that, so she has resigned herself to our not always spending much time together. Our eight-day trip caused us to spend more time together than normal, and I think it made her think about “what might have been” if I were better at that togetherness thing at home.

      I’m not sure what the answer is, but I don’t think a smaller rig (as was suggested). She’s opposed to a camper or even a Class C. We’d talked about getting a Class A motorhome and selling our fifth-wheel (we even got a Jeep to tow behind any motorhome we get), but I don’t know now what we’ll do. I guess, to quote the old cliche’, time will tell.

      • Alan Out and About says:

        There are class A motorhomes’ out there that have a large bedroom with two slides. One side is a sitting area, this along with the living area gives 2 people their own space. This allows 2 people to live in close quarters without getting in each others way.

        • True, there are, but neither of us seemed to want that many slides simply because of the problems slides on both sides can cause with some campsites. Lately, I’ve actually been leaning toward preferring no slides (as would be the case with a mid to late 1990s Foretravel, the Class A brand currently at the top of my wish list). At one point, she was willing to keep an open mind about that, but I don’t know now.

  82. Mary says:

    Can so relate Sue. Lost my Sweet Pepper dog. She was almost 15 years old. So grateful for all of our time together, but just don’t know what to do with all this overwhelming grief and pain. I guess just keep as busy as you can and hope for some relief in that.


    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Dear Mary,

      After 15 years of loving each other, it’s no wonder you are overcome with grief. I don’t know what words will comfort you. I wish I could find them, but they probably don’t exist.

      With time we won’t wear the “lead pantsuits” quite as often and maybe someday we can dump them altogether.

      I am truly sorry for your loss. Hang in there . . . Thank you for writing to me.

  83. weather says:

    Have you ever felt something too fine to give up for a single second?So much that you let nothing else matter at all?The building you’re in could be on fire and you’d just put it out later?That’s how things I really like affect me.Now I get that normal folk associate that kind of thing with the first time you hold your new baby,or the night that made that possible…Yet to me it’s as likely to happen from what’s not here as much as from what is.

    This morning not a single thought of should came,no self recriminating list-for hours on end I drifted filling time and myself with just pure happiness.Even schedules filled with wonderful things I sometimes walk away from.Not intentionally-it just happens.Anyway-that’s why I’m just now posting,Hi 🙂

    Here’s a quick example of the kind of thing likely to get me so off track.Sitting on a wooden deck closest to birds playing so I can watch and listen,I realize that being on the roof would get me closer.So off I go in jammies to move a wheel barrow off my favorite ladder.OK-you might be SH#t-kickin’ country if you have a Favorite ladder-HaHa-I know.I get near the top and notice pine needles deep enough to be swept.

    Now a logical person would get dressed that second and go make arrangements.For roof sweepers,repairmen,chimney sweeps and varmint removal professionals to help prepare for averting disasters the reputed deep immediate snowfalls are bound to bring.Instead I make a gratitude list in the grass -giggling at the pups and I while examining my toes.

    Let’s see:body -strong enough to do it it all myself including feet -used like cats for tons of fun ways to balance.Check!Brooms,rakes,hammers,wood,tarps,nails,chimney brush and a wood shed to move that squirrel home into(they really don’t need to sneak in through that vent to live in the attic-I’d just let them because they’d panicked over seeing the eagles close)…etc.,etc.Check!See-time here runs in circles and around corners instead of in straight lines,who knew Away From Keyboard was a town that flies across coast

    • Shirlene says:

      Weather, you are so awesome, I would never climb a ladder..come to think of it, I don’t even like climbing stairs! Yep I would be the one who calls the chimney sweep. I have my groomer come to my home to groom my two poodles, have a mobile vet that comes to my home for check ups and teeth cleaning, have someone come to my garage to wash and wax my car….spoiled? yes. Somehow I feel a little ashamed…very little. LOL

      • weather says:

        P’S.Shirlene,you blonde haired cutie-back to the picture in my head of you being all girl-two well groomed poodles and a well waxed car-I rest my case 😉

        • weather says:

          P.P.S.So you understand that’s meant as a compliment,I love playing all girl to the hilt, too, in ways.Like- I still wait by the door and expect guys to open it -think it’s fun to curl my hair and wear a skirt sometimes,promenading while they go get the car if it’s raining.I’ve never outgrown being charmed by silly,old school things and good manners…

    • weather says:

      Shirlene you crack me up!Hm-m-pampering ourselves-with a smidgen of shame easily brushed aside- because sometimes ya just gotta have what you want.Do you suppose that’s what I’m experiencing the times when I get another pair of pants that I don’t need-but buy- because they make me FEEL so good in ’em?

      Hiring others for climbing ladders and such Would feel good,yet you know what will feel even better to me?This Saturday when my grandson and I climb down a rock bank- to have Lake Ontario’s waves splash our faces- before driving the two hours back with the jeep’s windows rolled down- for our favorite hot chicken wings,talking about simply amazing things all day long…

      Every muscle I use ensures the youth I refuse to give up will remain.I’ve zero intentions of missing adventures because it’s easier to be still forever.I don’t do bizarre things because I wouldn’t rather hire men to do them.I do it because I want to always be able-

      to climb ladders and rock banks and hilltops in a jeep-with people I love too much- to have them visit me in a sick or just sickening room -out of twisted or sad obligation…You see ,well flat out- NOW they call me with excitement,wanting to be together-because it’s always incredibly wonderful and fun.Sixties to me are the middle years-the ones after will be good too this way,stretching has always been part of making my dreams come true-even if it’s done on a ladder 🙂

      • Sondra-SC says:

        I completely understand your reasoning weather…we are of the same mind on this subject last year I went up an attic ladder —it broke, I broke both arms..DANG–long time in casts, family came in to help me…it was not fun..I did nothing wrong, the wood was weak, not me!
        Last week I saw the pine needles on the flat part of the porch roof…I got the ladder, its metal—no more wooden steps—I got the leaf blower…up I went. Right before I climbed onto the roof I stopped and asked myself “do I really want to do this?” And then after a thought I replied to myself—
        “as long as you can do this, you should do it” I praise anyone who does what they can just because they can!!

        • weather says:

          Sondra you must heal as well as a kid- to be up there again now,Great!My Favorite ladder is my favorite because it’s aluminum with treads in the steps-light as a feather strong as a rock-what’s not to love? 😉

      • DesertGinger says:

        I’m with Weather. I totally want to be able to climb my ladder.and other chores. Not nearly ready to give up. If I can I will climb ladders in my eighties!

    • Edie (OK) says:

      I’m with you too weather. Use it or lose it! 🙂

  84. Shirlene says:

    Good Afternoon Bloggers, somehow I think our RV Sue must be on the move…nothing from her since yesterday around noon. Maybe she has just pulled up stakes and is moving on down the road. I got bored so I went to Amazon and bought something on her site…she better not abandon us for long this could be expensive for me. LOL

    • Shirlene says:

      Never mind, I see her moving down the blog…Hi Sue!

      • rvsueandcrew says:

        Hi, Shirlene,

        You’re right… This morning was very busy. Yes, we moved after a very enjoyable visit with Kathy and Gil. I hope to put a post together before I go to bed tonight (Utah time).

        Thanks for shopping Amazon here. That’s a great way to show you miss me and Bridget! 🙂

  85. Marcia GB in MA says:

    Today’s playlet is an installment in the play of life. That’s not to put aside your very real grief at the loss of Spike. He was an important part of your life’s journey and your readers all miss him, too, each in his/her own way. We are supporting you and it’s OK, at some point the darkness gets shorter and the light grows longer. Such is the way of the seasons of grief. We support you in your journey through rain, snow, sleet and sunshine as you make your way and play your different parts. Blessings!

  86. Paula says:

    As many of your readers, I understand the grief you are experiencing over Spike’s passing. I imagine Bridget is also still feeling the loss of her friend. Losing a cherished pet is no less painful than losing a human friend. I pray that more days of happiness replace the days of sadness. All in due time.

  87. Sandy says:

    Never apologize for grieving. When my dad died in March, a midwife I worked with wrote me a quite incredible note. She said, “Grief opens the well of all the griefs we’ve ever grieved.” I found this to be very profound and quite true. Blessings & Peace to you.

  88. Kay says:

    Grr lost the second post…. I quit until later.

  89. Illinois Jane says:

    Regarding your loss of Spike, Sue, he was a huge part of your life. You do correspond with us and that’s great but, you lead a very secluded life. It was you three. I’m sure you have considered this and understand the tremendous void Spike’s departure has created. Hence, the depth and breadth of disturbance it’s caused. The pain we all experience is so hard to bare and I am, by no means, undermining anyone else’s pain. With you, I wonder that the dynamics of your way of life give you a peculiar set of circumstances with which to deal.

    Whether that made any sense or not, my heart goes out to you. To you and to anyone else here who is suffering. May you have strength.

    Sending love.

  90. Joannie Barnett says:

    Spike is standing on the rainbow bridge,checking it out for u & Bridget . Feel him in ur soul & smile. Lv u keep moving & writing for him & those of us who Lv ur antics. Find the poetry of ur spike. You have Bridget to move on for. Joannie

  91. Dear Sue,

    When I told you almost two years ago you kept me hanging on I wasn’t exaggerating. I was sick and gettin’ worse (for an eight year period).

    I died March 3, 2013. Then I came right back and I don’t know why. It was ten days before we moved into the TT.

    The afterlife is so much better (I think if you’re a good person or good doggie). then this life. I can’t put it into words, there aren’t any.

    I hope this makes you feel better. That lil Spike has it made in a shade. He doesn’t ever worry about anything, he’s loved, he knows peace.

    Much love!

    • Illinois Jane says:

      Wow, Carrie. You experienced it. Now you know what all the rest of us are wondering about and hoping for.

      • Yep, Jane, it’s so amazing! I just wish I didn’t have to come back so fast. Of course it wouldn’t have bothered me not to come back at all but it would’ve been really hard for my Todd.

        • Illinois Jane says:

          Carrie, that’s just what others have said. Did you get to see anyone? A light?

          • Good mornin’ Jane!

            It was light / bright but I didn’t see a particular light. The light was even as if not coming from any direction.

            I didn’t get to see or hear anyone. I don’t think I was there long enough. To me it seemed like around three seconds. What was certain was extreme peace. Like it wasn’t possible to be worried, confused, scared or have any negative feelings or pain at all. When I got back I tried my best to hold on to that peace and remember it all perfectly but it isn’t possible as the human brain just can’t comprehend it. 🙂

  92. weather says:

    Deep green boughs of a pine tree,slender branches covered in fronds,maple leaves with edges of new color and oak leaf clusters all bounce-one after the next -not lifted in wind-they’re moved by a small squirrel out playing.So am I.His daring is astonishing,his tail glitters in the sun as he leaps from one tree to the next.Thinking he’ll surely have more acorns than anyone,I’m so proud of him.

    As if to compete for attention- my goldfinch friend flies right by me,every beautiful feather and note he sings works-he’s the star of the moment suddenly.A stream of high note calling birds with white sections on their chests,just a few at a time have flown westward since day break and take the spotlight as I wonder ,Why west?

    It takes me a while to picture the land from their point of view until I get it.By the straight path they’ve chosen they’re avoiding each city and the coasts turbulent weather.Heading south will be so much nicer from the western parts of Lake Ontario.Avoid the cluster of traffic so the journey takes no longer yet is pleasant every mile,find food and rest in places of safe,quiet beauty along the way.Sounds like you,Sue

    May the high view grant you vision of the freedom you’ll soon have again-from all that’s held you lower for a while.You’re built of the joy and happiness deep love always brings.You’ll shed the cloak of recent times like only you can do-forging ahead in triumph ,led by Hope.

    Love you ,lady,may lightness grace your thoughts and heart more today…weather

    • rvsueandcrew says:

      Good morning, weather,

      I thought I’d post last night. I was flying too low to do so. This morning, however, I’m given the “high view!” Immediately over coffee I set to work on the post and now it’s finished. I’ll publish it shortly.

      I’ve enjoyed you entertaining the blogoginos in my absence. It’s fun reading the different conversations that spring up here. I didn’t have the energy to respond to all the comments. I know everyone understands.

      Love you, too. Your morning description is a delight!

      • weather says:

        So wonderful to have a note from you,thanks,Sue!Happy your morning is going well,and that the entertainment gave you some fun and diversion,I’d hoped it would.Here’s to delightful sharing,-of coffee,friendship and journeys- life is good!

  93. Shirlene says:

    Good Morning All, let me get my morning coffee and sit here and read the comments I missed last night. Weather, thanks for all the feed back, and you know I just don’t look at myself the same way you look at me, you have held a different mirror up to my face. I don’t see myself as girlie, but reading you description of me is spot on, I guess I better take a closer look. As another blogger said, I am in the class of 2016, hoping to be full time on the road, with my little blue thunderbird tucked safely in a nest back home until I can free it when I return from places unknown. Now I am trapped behind a desk with this blog as my escape during the day, which is why I comment so often. I work at a well know Cancer Treatment Center. I am a medical editor and am very aware of how quickly life can turn and change your plans. I bless every day I feel strong and capable. Now climbing ladders? I guess I am just a keep your feet on the ground kind of girlie girl.

    • Shirlene says:

      With a BIG black JEEP! Oh, did I mention I am Gemini? LOL

    • Unlike my wife who when I asked “how am I going to get the solar panels on the roof of the motorhome?”, after having them delivered yesterday, said “I’ll just climb up there, and you can hand them up to me”. 🙂

    • weather says:

      Hi,Shirlene-what a treat to find your note,thanks!When you look in the mirror I hope you do it with the full pride of all that womanhood gives us.

      Edges of lighter framed creatures than men display- on the surface and within -is what makes us altogether wonderful.Less angles and more curves in bodies and ways of thinking are how the world benefits because we’re here.They head for things one way-we see many more-everything works to let the tapestry develop with the finest picture.

      If I use the middle path as you’re beside me on sturdier ground-sharing what females use to express all that we are-the balance we lend each other makes it the more beautiful.I was born a little more wild than some, yet love the tame ways I walk beside those that need it.

      Every part of being this woman pleases me.I hope you never feel anything other than pride and love for the woman you see in the mirror-from here I’ve seen you as pure delight and beauty,weather

  94. Anne says:


    I agree with others here. Never apologize for your grief. For those who have known – and have lost – a beloved pet, or shall I say a dearly beloved friend – no explanation is necessary. They live this grief.

    For those who have never known a beloved soul – an infinite number of words can never explain the devastation of this loss.

    Grief never goes, nor should it.

    In time, if we are lucky, we learn to embrace it: it is the reminder of joy.


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