How to explain "Speaking of Basset Hounds"...hmmm...well the best way I suppose is to start at the beginning although it's not uncommon for me to start in the middle, go back to beginning, skip to the end and then forget what I started to tell you in the first place.
Several years ago my husband (this would be Husband #3)(yes I've been married ALOT) and I had a litter of Basset Hound puppies that we were selling. A good friend of mine that I worked with was really enthused about adopting the last little long-eared baby but her husband was...well...less enthusiastic than she. So one evening after they finished dinner they were having a cup of coffee and a smoke while the husband finished telling one of his infamous stories. He was always a REALLY good storyteller which I personally believe is nearly a lost art. Anyway, my friend laughs at his story takes a breath and says, "Speaking of Basset Hounds...". Her husband looks at her and says, "Actually we weren't." And she in turn replies, "Well...now we are." So...ever since then, many times when I need to change the subject in a conversation I will simply say, "Speaking of Basset Hounds...". You see, to me life is nothing but a crapload of subject changes. And that's why I chose this name for my blog.
I've wanted to start blogging for a couple years now and even started to once but the best of intentions and all that. I just haven't had time. But I've decided recently, due to certain events in my life, that I need a place to rant when things piss me off and also record some of my history and happenings.
So...I'm going to begin.
Friday, August 7, 2009
I can't believe it. My youngest son celebrated his 30th birthday today. 30 years ago at this time I was lying in a hospital bed in Union Hospital in Terre Haute, IN, trying to go to sleep. I was sore (C-Section), amazed, really hungry (my doctor was an idiot and forgot to change my orders to say I could eat so it had been over 24 hours since I had eaten) and I was full of questions. What would this baby be like? What kind of personality would he have? Would he be crabby or content? My first baby was crabby so I was REALLY hoping for content. And content he was. This child was sooooooo easy to raise. He was always the kid everyone wanted to take home with them. He never gave me a minute's trouble or concern and was kind, considerate, loving and very funny. He was very shy when he was an infant and preschooler, clinging to me constantly. I used to laugh and say that Andy was attached to my right thigh. And I didn't mind that at all. My favorite picture of Andy was taking by my dear friend Norman Duzan who is an amazing photographer. Andy had his left arm wrapped around my right thigh and his little head leaned against me. It captured our relationship to a "T". This kid brought so much joy into my life that I don't think I'll ever be able to explain it to him. One time I was having an extremely bad day and didn't even realize that he was aware of "everything that could go wrong had gone wrong". He took what money he had, I think it was just under a dollar, and walked uptown to the florist and told them his mommy was having a bad day and he wanted to buy her some flowers. The florist gathered up a few odds and ends for him and I gotta tell you...those were the most beautiful flowers I've ever received. He was seven years old at the time. I forgave him for going uptown without permission. He smiled all the time and still does. He has blessed me with two of the most beautiful grandchildren I've ever seen and has a wife that is a blessing in her own right. I think his 30th birthday is as much a time for reflection for me as it must be for him. Happy Birthday Andy! I love you.