My First Front Porch

Going through old pictures (again) this am, I stumbled upon a photo of the house I grew up in Allenhurst, New Jersey, which my siblings and I refer to as “404” (the address). When I look at this house, I am overwhelmed with many fond memories. Of course, there are those that are not so warm and fuzzy (memories), but nevertheless, they are a part of my life.

There are those who say the “house” is merely a shell, and what makes the shell a “home” are those who live inside. I believe this as well, however, our “shell” had an extension in the form of a wrap around porch, and that’s where many of the great memories I have were formed.

The porch was huge (I’m not the best at math or configurations, but if I had to guess, I would say it gave us a HUGE amount of living space). Our parents collected most of the porch furniture from garage sales, and after cleaning it up and adding new paint, we had just about brand new stuff. It was old, mostly wicker, but it all added “charm” to the porch. And most was very comfy. And there was always room for one more. Always.

The bulk of the porch faced the lake we grew up on (yet more tales I could share) so the summer breezes that rolled off the lake added to our comfort, especially during the heat of the summer. We hosted many parties on this porch, including my sister Sue’s wedding (quite honestly one of the most relaxed and fun weddings I have ever attended).

This porch seemed to draw people to it like a magnet. Whether it was family, friends, the neighbors, or the cop on duty that day (my dad was also a cop so it was not uncommon for that person on duty to drop by to say hello), there was always something going on. We also had many meals out there, and food always seemed to taste better out there. Even a cold bowl of cereal was fun.

Watching a summer storm from this old porch was even fun. We felt safe there, like no harm could ever reach us (as if the rails of the porch wrapped themselves around us, protecting us).

They say a house has character and that character is an extension of its owners. I think that is true. My parents always extended open arms to those who came to sit on that porch. As inviting as that porch was, so were my parents to those who came to sit and visit with us.

I can remember vividly the tinkling sounds of my mom’s wind chimes that were scattered around the porch frame. I can still see the American flag blowing in the breeze. I can hear the laughter of the occupants. I can smell the fragrance of summer. I remember the love that enveloped that house like the porch, whose wrap around structure was more than a piece of shell. I miss that porch.

National Cancer Survivors Day

On June 1, 2008, over 12 million American cancer survivors, and those who have supported them, will be honored, when our country takes the day to celebrate National Cancer Survivors Day. Here at home, we will celebrate Jim’s getting through his diagnosis and subsequent treatment of thyroid cancer. He is a survivor. And we are thankful to those who helped him get through those times, whether it was through prayer, treatments, or simply kind words of encouragement.

I have written periodically in my blog how much I ‘hate’ cancer. My life has been touched throughout the years by many who have been diagnosed with cancer; both survivors and those who have eventually succumbed to it. Family, friends, and patients.

In the early years of my nursing career, I spent time working on an oncology unit where I met many wonderful patients, many who I still remember today. As a young nurse, this was not an easy floor to work on, and not merely because of the workload, but as a young nurse you have the drive and motivation to ensure all your patients lived. But sadly, many did not and that was a hard reality lesson for me. Many of those patients taught me things about myself that I have taken with me throughout my life, both personally and professionally.

It’s been written that “conventional medicine identifies survivors as those who are in long-term recovery when, in fact, from the moment of diagnosis, everyone touched by cancer is in survival mode. This is true not only of patients, but also their caregivers, family members, and loved ones.” I agree completely.

I have long been a supported of two cancer organizations; the American Cancer Society and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (specifically the NJ Chapter). I do what I can, when I can, so that when and if my family and friends are diagnosed, I know I have already helped to make a difference. And when and if I might be diagnosed, I know I have already begun the fight. Help make a difference. Help celebrate those who have survived or those who are just starting the survival of their life.

Remembering: Memorial Day

I am a firm believer that many Americans have long forgotten the real meaning behind Memorial Day. Many think it’s a day to honor and memorialize all of the dead and not those who fell protecting our country. Sacrifice. Even the tradition behind the day has fallen to the wayside. Graves are left unattended and not marked for the day. Even towns that had parades and small graveside celebrations have dwindled. “Costs.”

I try my best to remember those who should be thought of on this day, starting with my own family members. I have a long list of relatives who fought the “War to end all wars,” WWII, and the Korean War. My dad, my uncle, and Jim’s dad dedicated a part of their lives to the military service, both incidentally the US Navy. Their graves have small American flags placed to signify their service to our country.

I even know a person who died during the Vietnam War. I was in third grade and my Sunday school teacher Mrs. Brower received notification during our Sunday school time. I remember feeling frightened, and then worried about her. Her son Donald was a gifted kid who went off to war never return again. I think of him every Memorial Day. I may know more who died during this time, but he is the only one who left such an impact on me.

My flag is out, and flying in the breeze. I buy a poppy every year. I give to Veterans when I can. I like living in America. It’s honor for me to have known those who served to protect us, and ultimately sacrifice themselves for me. For all of us. For America.

And so Summer at the Jersey Shore Begins...

OY Vey! The summer season at the New Jersey shore is now officially open for business, which means the "bennies" have arrived! The traffic gets thicker and the area more congested with summer tourists. Oh sure they do bring in extra cash, but…

Despite the extra annoyances living at the shore during the summer bring, I wouldn’t like, nor can I imagine living anywhere else during the summer months. I like that I can drive a few minutes and get to the beach and the boardwalk. Okay, maybe not “minutes” during the summer, but I can get there faster than someone living near Trenton or North Jersey!

I like that I can go from the beach to the local grocery store all damp and sandy and no one notices me. I blend right in. Unlike the beanies who stand out on any given day. (see picture) Being a local, I know all the quiets spots yet undiscovered by the "bennies." So when I want time alone on the beach without the entire hubbub they bring, I head to my secret place and pray that it is never discovered. Or I avoid the whole traffic mess and stay at home on my deck, which has not yet been discovered by any group of tourists! Yet.

So the summer at the shore, which is not like the official start of the season of summer, has begun, but so has the count down until the "bennies" go home again, and the peace and quiet of the New Jersey shore can be seen and heard again, without the noise of traffic congestion.

From the Urban Dictionary (http://www.urbandictionary.com/) the definition of “bennies” is as follows:

“The stupid tourists from up north, they increase traffic, pollute the beach (they say it is the locals fault), and all round cause havoc.”

The Roaring 20's

Once upon there was a girl who lived a simple life. She lived during the time of the “flappers” which was a period of time that redefined modern women. Flappers were defined as a new breed of young women who wore short skirts, bobbed their hair, listened to the new Jazz music, and flaunted their disdain for what was then considered acceptable behavior. The flappers were seen as brash for wearing excessive makeup, drinking, treating sex in a casual manner, smoking, driving automobiles, and otherwise flouting conventional social and sexual norms. And as you can see from her picture, she was a lovely flapper type, and knowing my grandmother she no doubt helped to define that period of time quite well.

But I love the idea that women took a positive stand in our country. The right to vote became a reality and women pushed themselves into working roles in their society. Young women especially, began staking claim to their own bodies and took part in a sexual liberation of their generation. The 20s gave birth to the ‘feminine mystique’. With this formulation, all women wanted to marry, all good women stayed at home with their children, cooking and cleaning, and the best women did the aforementioned and in addition, exercised their purchasing power freely and as frequently as possible in order to better their families and their homes. I like the idea that my grandmother’s generation took a stand for all women, helping us to be seen and heard.

I love the idea of being a flapper, but I love the sound of Jazz even more. I can easily see myself sitting in a jazz cafe, waiting to be asked to do the fox trot or the Charleston. Men wore dashing pinstriped suits and had a cool air about them. And of course, there were the downsides to the 20’s; drinking, gangsters, the rise of communism, and the beginnings of the KKK.

If there were one period of time I could visit, it would be this era. I’d like the chance to hang with my grandmother as she danced her way through the 20’s and the opportunity discuss with her how she felt about women’s rights, and in general what was going on in the world. If only.

Migo the Library Dog

This week, Migo, our youngest Golden will take his Therapy Dog exam. I believe he is ready. It has been a long 8 weeks of training, but worth every second, especially when you see how people respond to dogs. Medical research shows that animal therapy promotes shorter hospital stays, decreases blood pressure, and dramatically improves sense of well being. In most cases, patients excitedly anticipate their furry friends' visits; thus giving children, adults and the elderly even more reason to feel happier, healthier and more alert.

I have always been a believer in the power of animals to help heal our spirits, and in some cases, the human body. The stories are never ending; enhancing the quality of life through the human-animal bond. I know on a personal level how my dogs make a difference in my own life. As a natural stress reducer, animal therapy is an excellent method of incidental physiotherapy.

So Migo will join his sister Madison, our other Golden, at the local library to provide a service in which children will read to them. I love this program and love sharing my dogs with the local children. The kids respond favorably to the dogs and that’s what pet therapy is all about. I’m glad I am a part of something so positive.

Patience

We have had a really slow start to warmer weather in my area. At times it has been frustrating, especially for those of us who want to feel the heat radiate down to our bones, that have been cold and hurting over the long cold winter months. And for some of us, we simply want to sit and relax as the sun warms and begins the process of browning our faces.

We have had an abundance of spring rain, which while it has helped the process of helping the grass begin its new growth, has been somewhat annoying as it has kept us indoors; a place we want to break free from after a long winter. But the upside of all of this has been that plants have been slow to bloom fully and after doing so, have kept them longer. So we have been able to enjoy the colors and smell of spring a wee bit longer. Perhaps this is one more way Mother Nature encourages us to slow down?

It’s not a bad thing, and although I especially yearn for summer days, it might be best that I take each season a bit slower. So it is with this in mind that I will appreciate spring more and wait patiently for the heat of summer days. There’s no need to rush.

Caitlin: Home at Last!

My girl is home, safe and sound and she is as happy as we are, now that she is home. I cannot express how good it is to have her here. I like sharing that morning cup of Jo with her, and look forward to our shopping trips and days at the beach together.

She is unpacked and settled in, and life goes on.

=) =) =)

Pass the Popcorn

Most people, if not all, have their favorite movies. I’m not an exception. I have several that I adore and could easily watch over and over again without getting bored. Being a ‘chick’ I do love many of the sappy ‘chick flicks’ and never tire of them either. I love the classics, as well as the new stuff. I do not like sci-fi films. Never had, never will.

My all time favorites are as follows and are listed in no particular order of preferred films:

Gone with the Wind: Ok, I know this is a popular among many, but who doesn’t love that heat between Scarlett and Rhett?
Dr. Zhivago: The story involves General Yevgraf Zhivago searching for the love child of his brother, poet and doctor Yuri Zhivago, and his mistress Larissa ("Lara") Antipova. Who isn’t a fan of Omar Shariff?
The Thin Man (all of them!): I love the zaniness that goes on between William Powell and Myrna Loy!
Jeopardy: Barbara Stanwyck stars in this “taut thiller which takes woman-in-distress concept to one of the most frenzied extremes."
Ever After: Who doesn’t love that Cinderella gets her prince?
Practical Magic: I love Aidan Quinn! He’s magical!
The Bourne Series: I admit it. I have a ‘thing’ for Matt Damon.

The list goes on...

The point here is that we all have those favorite movies, classics or current, that we love to cuddle up to, especially on dark, gloomy rainy days. And when we have someone special to watch with, it is all the better. Pass the popcorn.

Dear Mom and Dad (and siblings)...

During the time period I lived in Germany, I sent many letters home to my family (and friends, of course). My letters were filled with so many things; most, simple tales of what we were doing at the time. The letters detailed what we did over the span of our five years in living, working, and traveling overseas.

Many of the envelopes sent home were also filled with small pieces of artwork done by Caitlin and Daniel for my parents and siblings. At the time, what I thought were simple letters home, now have become important keepsakes. I had no idea at the time, my parents was saving each letter. Each letter, each piece of artwork served as a link to me, Jim, and their two grandchildren.

When I returned home from Germany, my mom handed me the large box in which each letter was placed after she had read them over and over again. I placed each letter and much of the artwork in large binders, according to the date sent home (would I do it any differently, being the overly organized person I am?). Periodically, I read through the binders and relive not only what we were doing at the time, but my journaling (I was blogging before blogging was hip) of how I was dealing with being so far from home. My simple correspondence home has become a rich account of so many emotions I dealt with away from my family.

My letters are also filled with my humorous accounts of working with the military and all the antics that went on in the army clinic where I work, learned, and made life long friendships. They are filled with colorful descriptions of all the places we visited throughout Europe (Frommers has nothing on me). As my memory fades of that time period, I know that I have my letters to go through, taking me back to an incredible life experience, and I have my mom to thank for saving those valuable letters.

Happy Mother's Day!

It is with today’s blog that I honor my mom who has, over time, been at the very heart and soul of our family. There are so many words that describe my mom; courage, strength, patience, selfless, faith, love...the list is endless (and, yes, even annoying at times).

She grew up in small family, which included one younger brother, her dad (a mason) and her mom (predominately an executive secretary). She had the typical childhood, growing up during the depression, and working her summers at the shore as a lifeguard. She graduated high school and became a beautician. During this time period, she met my dad, married and eventually began her family (a total of five children). To say her life was easy would be wrong. She worked hard raising the five of us, and battled most of her married life with a man who never really fully appreciated her worth. Thus her strength, patience, faith, and the ability to laugh when times get tough. To say she came through the tough times like a war time hero would be right. Her kids are her strength. And I am quite sure we taught her patience too.

My mom is now 72 and she lives a quiet life with one of my brothers. She loves being “out on the farm” and loves her church and church family. She is a very devout Christian and appreciates what she has, and when possible shares what little she does have with others who need it more than she does. I am proud of my mom. I try to honor her each and every day I live my life by being the person she raised me to be. This, I believe, is the best possible way any of us could honor our mothers.

"The future destiny of the child is always the work of the mother." – Napoleon Bonaparte

"All that I am or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother." – Abraham Lincoln

A Calendar Girl

Besides having all the usual jobs I have listed on this blog, I also serve as the traffic cop here at home. I am in charge of ensuring (for the most part) where people need to be, and when and where on a daily basis (not jobs, thankfully they know that). I do this with the aide of a very active calendar and a very somewhat organized mind (yes even at my age). The key to being organized (at least for me) is my calendar. Without it, I’m lost. Without, there would be many appointments forgotten. (And I am not the only one)

I started years ago using a simple wall calendar, but after time, those little boxes never seemed big enough. It’s hard to cram four people’s whereabouts into tiny blocks. Then I graduated to carrying around a calendar book, and that worked well, but after a while I found that I would forget my book, and this is not so good when the orthodontist wants to book your kids life six months ahead. So, then I added a smaller purse size calendar book, and would carry that back and forth, adding and deleting to the larger book at home (You begin to see a potential problem here, don’t you) This went on for some time.

After a few years, I then graduated to a huge desk calendar (the kind my first grade teacher used with the very BIG blocks) and found while I could be very organized, it did take up a lot of counter space in the kitchen. BUT I do admit of all the calendars I have ever used, this was the best method. I also continued with the purse calendar just to be sure I had everything recorded.

Then (thanks to my sister Gidget) I discovered the Outlook calendar which nicely records each entry and then subsequently spits out a copy for my wall, and purse at the touch of a button. THIS was the ticket. It worked for about a week, and then I found I had to have something with bigger blocks. So as of today I have not one, not two, but three working calendars in progress. One in Outlook (on the PC), one in my purse, and lastly one on the counter in the kitchen (just in case someone calls me and I cannot reach my purse or my laptop). I’m covered. I’m organized. I’m me.

The Perfect Role Model

A very good friend of mine recently found herself in the media spotlight after being denied ‘light duty’ in her role as a police officer secondary to her high risk pregnancy. The attention it got was country wide; with various groups getting involved to make certain she was provided the safest job to ensure her and her baby’s safety. What is unfortunate is that there was not a policy in place to prevent the major mess that occurred, which ultimately brought so much attention to my friend, and the town in which she serves as a police officer.

What I found so horrible, and sad, were the comments by so many that women do not belong in police positions. Why do we as a society still have so many backward thoughts to roles woman can perform in regards to occupations? Certainly our military has proven that women not only do well, but excel in various positions against their male counterparts. Studies by the military have shown that, with training, most women's strength can be greatly increased, permitting them to perform the heaviest tasks required. So why do many (and not just men) still have the mentality that women are not strong enough, big enough, or even smart enough to become valuable members of police forces? It makes no sense to me.

Thankfully, my very dear friend was provided a position within her police department which allows her to remain on the payroll, and stay safe (her baby too). And I would like to mention that throughout this very nationally-made-public-ordeal, she maintained professionalism and told me that her male counterparts (her Chief excluded) rallied around her to show support. Perhaps this mentality should spill out to others who feel women have no place working in male dominant roles. Kudos to you Sonia. YOU are a hero to many (myself included) and a wonderful role model to other women.

Happy Nurse's Day!

To my readers who are nurses, Happy Nurse's Day to you!

The Florence Nightingale Pledge

I solemnly pledge myself before God and in the presence of this assembly, to pass my life in purity and to practice my profession faithfully. I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous, and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug. I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession, and will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping and all family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling. With loyalty will I endeavor to aid the physician, in his work, and devote myself to the welfare of those committed to my care.

Swinging the Day Away

Luke, our five-year-old Golden, loves to swing on our porch swing. He always has. In fact, so much so, that when the swing is up and it’s a beautiful day, he goes over to it, and through his cries, lets us know he wants up. Of course, when he is done, he cries to get help to get down off of the swing. He’s usually good for a few hours. But what better place is there to take your morning nap?

Of all our dogs, Luke has the most laid back personality. In fact, it’s been said that even when he moves forward, he is in reverse. He hardly barks, never causes much trouble around here, has a gentle soul, and the sweetest disposition. He was known to move bushes around when he was younger, but has since out grown that hobby (thankfully).

Now that summer is here, his days are spent swinging life away. We could all stand to have a few days like that. I know I could. Take time to spend and hour or two on your porch swing...or some place where you can rest, and think.

"I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive." ~ Gilda Radner

Classical Music Appreciation 101

I enjoy listening to classical music. It’s something I have always enjoyed, but the older I have gotten, the more I appreciate each piece for its compilation. There’s a certain art to really ‘listening’ to these musical art forms. Many people find it boring, but I think once one has the ability to really understand classical music over the more popular forms of music, one can then appreciate it more. I think the difference between popular music and classical music can basically be summed up as the difference between magazines and works of literature.

I have my favorite works such as Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, Opus # 8, Strauss’s Blue Danube, Opus # 314, and Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Opus # 71. I love so many, but these are among my favorites. I used to play the music for background noise. Yes, I said noise, but after beginning to look for new pieces, and really listening, I found that the best way to enjoy classical music is to just sit and listen to it. Focus, but not too hard.

When Daniel took his Music Appreciation class, he and I went too see the NJ Symphony. He had to dissect each piece, and in doing so, we found it was not so easy to enjoy the piece. The assignment led us to believe that in order to enjoy each piece, you simply had to really listen, and understand why the composer wrote what he did, and what message he wanted to send to the audience.

I believe that understanding and appreciating music is a hard thing to define. What does “understanding/appreciating classical music” really mean? There are two ways to look at interpreting the classics. The first is identifying that the classical music world has an abundance of terms associated with it, such as melody, rhythm, harmony, and so on. It’s the technical side of the music. The second important aspect of classical music is being able to understand the emotions and characteristics each piece reveals to the listener. There should be some connection between you and each piece. How does it make you feel? Sad, happy. I believe, this link, between you and the classical piece, is what makes listening to it more pleasurable. Find that link, and really connect to the classics. It’s well worth your time.

The UPs and DOWNs of My iPod

Technological gadgets. Who doesn’t like them? We can do almost anything, anywhere, and at anytime, thanks to the advances in our techno world. Like listen to music. And not just any music, but our favorite tunes, and even TV shows, and movies, all with the tiny push of a button. My iPod is my favorite gadget. That is when I can get them damn thing to work. Actually, the iPod is fine; it’s the loading of it that stumps me.

I am currently on my third iPod because I outgrew the first two iPods faster than I could load music on to them. My new one allows me to upload TV shows, movies, podcasts (I have yet to really explore this option), and music (lots of it). The thing is, every time I go to iTunes to download, and then upload things, somehow I get into trouble. I even once deleted the entire library of music, which left me frustrated and feeling the urge to smash my iPod (I didn’t though).

So thankfully Caitlin and Daniel, and yes, even Jim, are patient with me. To a point. I do see the eye rolling and hear the sighs. Then comes the question, “How do you deal with technology on the job?” I am not sure. I guess it s good thing babies download without much help, usually, or there might be problems. And there’s a difference between an iPod and, well, girlie parts. Thankfully.

So when the problems arise, I no longer get frustrated. I bear with the eye rolling and the heavy sighs and ask for help. I know you told me a million times HOW this is done, but I cannot seem to get it. Some times moms need extra help. And I thank you. Again.

Toxin Free Coffee

Who doesn’t enjoy the smell, the sight, the taste, and even the feeling of the heat as your fingers curl around that first morning cup, mug, or even a paper cup of fresh, hot coffee? I know I not only love it, and crave it, but I am addicted to it. Sweet and light!!

I have been a coffee drinker for as long as I can remember. I got really ‘hooked’ on it when I used to work nights. That huge paper cup of coffee courtesy of 7-11 started my shift (something had to jolt me back to life). That first sip was and is like a jolt of electric current used to jump start a battery (in my case, an old battery). The thing is though, until recently, I liked my coffee somewhat sweet and light. I used Sweet and Low© for years and then discovered Splenda© and life was sweeter and less sugary, but I had no idea that I was ingesting something not too safe. (Ok, I will admit that for quite some time Caitlin has warned me about ingesting “toxic chemicals.” But I did not listen to her.)

So, as of this week, I am off that nasty “toxin” and will now only use the real stuff, but in very limited amounts. Initially it was hard to lose the sweet in my coffee, but after a few days of weaning off of it, I can now just add a wee bit of cream and my morning java is perfect. And it should be. After all, it is about the coffee and not the additives (the good ones, and not the bad ones).

Holocaust Rememberance Day

There are a few places I remember visiting very vividly when living abroad, and the Dachau Concentration Camp was one of them. Jim and I visited what remained of the camp on a bleak and rainy day in 1985. I can remember my first reaction as I walked through the gates (like so many millions before me) that read “Arbeit Macht Frei” (work makes you free). I learned about the concentration camps like the rest of us through school, but I remember thinking as I walked around, “Wow, this really happened.” In my head, I knew it had, but the feeling of reality was just so overwhelming.

Many of the pre-existing buildings were gone, but models remained to depict how the people lived there (live is loose term). What I committed to memory were the crematoriums. When we entered the buildings that housed those ovens, I saw tiny candles lit, each one placed by people who had come before us. There was a box of candles provided so that we, too, could light a candle. I remember lighting the candle and setting it among long stem roses that had been left behind as well.

It was at that moment that I found myself feeling the loss of those millions of people that had died during the holocaust. Nothing else the entire day had affected me as strongly as that very moment. I remember feeling overwhelmed. My eyes watered, and I didn’t want to move forward. But we did continue our walk around, taking in all we could. The emotions I felt, we felt, are hard to put into words.

When we had seen the entire camp, we headed back toward the main gate, and as we did, I turned around and walked backwards, soaking in every image that I could before I finally had to leave. I reached the gate and, putting my hand on it, I stopped. And then I did something that millions were unable to do. I walked out of Dachau; I walked out, leaving the camp behind but keeping its memory, along with the memory of those six million murdered human beings, in my heart, never to let myself forget, never to allow something like the Holocaust to ever happen again.

So it is with this in mind that every year on Holocaust Remembrance Day, I remember. I cannot forget. I won’t forget. My candle is lit to remember them. All of them.

Holocaust comes from the Greek to be burnt whole - a sacrifice consumed by fire.

Life In Grenada...4 days left (this semester)

So in four days, Caitlin will be back on US soil, and I am thrilled! It is hard to believe her first semester in Vet school is about to end. She is looking forward to getting home, and can be proud of her first semester accomplishments (We all are!). But of course, being the long range planner she is (and should be), she has found her next place to live upon returning this fall.

She will share her new digs with a "Jersey Girl" who is also in the same program. It's a two bedroom apartment within a two story home. She will have neighbors down stairs. It's cute, totally refurbished, and CLEAN! It comes complete with cable and internet access (the joys of being home). Her landscaping will be done for her (nice). Her home will include a balcony, in which she cannot only have a place to air dry her clothes (no dryers), but a place she can sit and ponder life with Migo. What could be better? (for all of us!)

I love that fact that Cait has become so independent living out of the country. But even more I love that she has a place to call home right here with us. I cannot wait for her to come home!