The Rest of the Story...Tagg

Portions of this post were originally from a post I wrote almost 3 years ago. Here is the conclusion:

I sometimes think that I like animals better than people, but as much as I love animals I never thought we would have an indoor dog. My youngest son inherited my weak lungs and struggled terribly with asthma as a small child. We had animals, but they didn't live indoors. Then at the age of 14, it had been two years since he'd had any trouble with his asthma, and he had expressed many times a desire for a dog, so we decided to get him one.

We home schooled our kids, so this seemed like a perfect research assignment for school. E.M. was to research which breeds of dogs met our criteria, no dander, no shedding, not high strung or yappy. His research  found several breeds that fit the bill. The breed that appealed the most was the West Highland Terrier. He also studied about crate and obedience training, animal first aid, and how to teach them tricks. So a few days before his 14th birthday, we set off to search the pets stores to find a Westy puppy.* (I know, I know... a pet store puppy, what about the whole "puppy mill" thing? For an answer to this question read the paragraph at the end of the post). We made a list of the stores that had a Westy pup for sale and began our exploration.

The store we went to had one Westy pup and someone was looking at it when we got there, so we just cruised around looking at the other animals while we waited for them to finish. The door to the service area of the puppy nursery was a dutch door and the top of the door was open, so as we walked by we caught sight of a puppy that was out on the floor getting a bit of exercise. The woman who was watching him while he was out of his cage was unpacking boxes and there was packing paper on the floor around her feet. The puppy raced by her, grabbed one of the pieces of paper and ran with it as fast as he could, until she caught up with him and took the paper. I turned and saw stars in my son's eyes... Oh dear,this was not the Westy puppy... it was a little buff Cocker Spaniel... Cockers shed... (the requirement for no shedding was mine, since I knew I would end up being the one to clean up the hair, and was the only household member who would care if the black pants they were wearing looked like the dog slept on them, etc.)
But I knew that look... so we asked if we could see him.

The woman opened the dutch door to let us in and the pup took the opportunity to snag a piece of the packing paper and dash out the open door. We turned to see the little stinker making his escape down one of the isles, the paper blocking his view as it flapped up over his head. E.M. took off after him, fearing that the front door of the store would open and he would get outside. Ever tried to catch a puppy out on a lark? It is not as easy as you think.... after a try or two at grabbing him, he decided to try another approach, he sat down, patted the floor in front of him and acted like he wanted to play. The pup stopped, looked at him, dropped his paper and ran towards him at top speed. When he got within range, the puppy bounded onto E.M.'s lap and tagged him on the chest with both feet. He then jumped off, avoiding capture, but stopped just out of reach, and turned to looked at him as if to say, "Tag! you're it!" Needless to say, the Westy puppy never had a chance... Tagg went home with us that day.


E.M. had educated himself well on puppy training, and Tagg was a champ. Crate training was a breeze, obedience training went well, "Sit", "Stay" and "No" were well understood and usually complied with, there was really only one problem... Tagg had a paper addiction, specifically toilet paper or tissues. He never touched books or magazine, and only chewed up the occasional school work, but he couldn't resist toilet paper. If you left the house and forgot to put the T.P. out of reach, I would come home to a toilet papered house. It would be everywhere, shredded into tiny pieces. If a friend came to visit and there was a tissue in her handbag, I would find Tagg up to his shoulders in her bag, helping himself to her tissue. I would shout his name and his head would snap up, one side of his lip tucked up and his mouth full of tissue, he would give me a sheepish look and spit out the soggy wad of kleenex. He knew he shouldn't do it but he just couldn't help himself. Even at the age of twelve, if someone forgot the close the bathroom door when we left the house, we would come home to find Tagg looking like "the cat who ate the canary", with a piece of T.P. stuck to his jowl and confetti trailing from the bathroom to the front door.

Tagg is the only dog I've ever met who smells flowers

He learned many tricks, that entertained us and others who came to the house. When I was struggling with mobility issues due to a Fibromyalgia relapse, I trained him to pick things up for me. If I dropped a piece of clothing that I was folding he would pick it up for me. If I knocked my reading glasses off the table, he would gently pick them up and drop them in my lap, smudged with slobber, but at least I didn't have to pick them up! One day long after my relapse, when I was feeling good again and didn't need Tagg's assistance anymore, I was sorting pieces of fabric, a pile to keep, a pile for Goodwill. The Goodwill pile was at my feet on the floor. I was looking at the stack of fabric in my lap when I felt Tagg's presence at my feet. I looked up to see what he wanted, and I saw him standing there, wagging his tail, with the pile of "Goodwill fabric" in his mouth. His eyes said "Here Mommy, you dropped these!"

"Momma Dawn" and Tagg in Costa Rica 2009

He wouldn't eat store bought dog treats and would looks at you like he was being punished if you gave him one. He was afraid of the Kong chew toy that I paid $15 for, (you know the one that has the hole in the middle that you can put peanut butter in...), and he left his heavy pointy ended, well gnawed beef bone strategically around the house where my bare feet will find it. He hogged the couch and snored so loud that I needed to turn the volume up on the movie I was watching.

 He would leave enough hair on the floor to produce a new Cocker Spaniel every three days if I didn't have his long beautiful coat clipped short. He had been banned from every groomer for 20 miles, for being "difficult" about having his feet clipped. I didn't know what I was going to do about getting him groomed, until I met Dawn,  Tagg's godmother and premier dog whisperer at "Furry Godmother's",(Dawn is the local pet groomer and dear friend, who has a gentle and effective way of helping animals deal with their fears and neurosis.) She even traveled down to Costa Rica when we lived there to groom him, (of course that was just one of her reasons for the visit, but bless her, she brought her clippers and she and her husband clipped him outdoors ... I still remember the winds catching balls of his fur and carrying them high into the rainforest...Sigh.)

Tagg was my protector. When my husband went off hiking and I was alone in the house, he would patrol the house, going from room to room periodically, and then settle down to sleep in the doorway to my bedroom until it is time to do the rounds again. If on the leash, he wouldn't let anyone within leash reach of me, anyone, friend or foe... No Fedex guy, phone line repairman, or neighbor checking their mail would ever go unwarned that he is on duty. He would alert me if I don't hear the oven timer going off, if the phone was ringing in my purse, if the washer was out of balance and was walking across the floor... he has even saved my life by warning me of a gas leak in the kitchen... A kettle of water I put on to boil sloshed over and put the flame out underneath the pot, gas had been pouring into the house for a long time while I was in the back room working. He ran to the family room and barked then ran away, when I didn't follow he came back and barked again, then went to the kitchen and barked and barked until I came and found him barking at the stove. The smell of gas was strong, if the space heater had been on the whole house could have gone up in flames! He was my hero...

Watching for the mail person to come

Tagg was also my comforter and councilor. He would lick away my tears and offers his upturned tummy to be rubbed when I felt sad. He looked at me with his soft brown eyes that spoke louder than words, and told me that he loved me no matter what and that everything will be alright. If I left the room, he would go with me. He kept my floor clean in the kitchen and spent half of his days dusted in flour or spotted with carrot juice, since he insisted on laying at my feet while I was working in the kitchen. He never judged me, never held a grudge or pointed out my faults.

When Tagg was 8 years old, I started seeing some wasting around his right hip and though it didn't seem to bother him I kept it in mind and worried that it there might be something wrong. But he had always been barrel chested and slim hipped so I let it go for the time being. Then one day when he and I were out for a walk on the greenway, he took a miss-step and his hind leg slipped off the walkway. He yelped and limped/ dragged his right leg. I checked to see if he had an injury, but there wasn't anything visible. I massaged his right hip and gave him a few minutes to shake it off. Then we tried to walk back to the car, but he couldn't walk more than a step or two without crying out, So I picked him up, which hurt too... It was at least a 1/2 mile back to the car so it was a long walk for both of us. It was hard for me to get my arms around him in a way that didn't hurt his hip, and carrying 40 pounds for that distance, meant I had to stop and put him down so that I could catch my breath. I think we were both wishing for a wagon at that moment.

I took Tagg to the vet, where my previous fears were confirmed; Hip Dysplasia. I was told there was little that could be done for him, except for surgery, which isn't always very successful. So I went home and did some research. I found that eating a diet of raw meat and vegetables can help to strengthen the connective tissues and increase synovial fluid production. So I started grinding chicken thighs up, added blueberries, carrots and peas and fed him that twice a day. I also found a product called Nzymes,which is used to improve synovial production in animals with joint issues. After a few weeks on the raw diet and the Nzyme tablets, Tagg began to walk normally again and showed little if any favoring of his hip unless it was stressed or moved wrong. So Tagg's life began to return to normal, but in the back of my mind I knew that this wouldn't always be the case.

Tagg has been so much a part of my life, a constant, loving and true companion. The dog that started

out as a birthday present for my son had become like one of my kids to me. What would I do for one of my kids? I would do anything within my power to take care of them, protect them, love them... Their pain is my pain... If Tagg needed me to carry him, to help him up and down, to feed him by hand, I would gladly do it. He has always been there for me, and if it was within his power, I know that he would do whatever I needed him to do, I would do no less. But I was then faced with a situation that every pet owner/ animal friend dreads... what if this hip issue doesn't get better enough to allow him a quality life? What if the rest of his life is spent in pain, unable to play or take a walk, having to bear the humiliation of diapers? When do I, as the person who is responsible for his care and accountable to God for his well being, say that it is time to end his suffering? When is his life no longer of any good to him? I couldn't ask him, I could only guess what he considers a good life, but I think he would say a good life is to be able to love and protect his family, to be an active part of our lives. So I prayed that God would give him healing and and allow both of us more time to be together.

  Fortunately, with God's healing touch and a continued dietary regimen, the Dysplasia symptoms disappeared. So, we got our old Tagg back. His mobility returned, his energy was appropriate for a 10 year old dog, and he appeared to be pain free. So I dodged the bullet on having to make a hard decision about his future. Two and a half years have passed since his last bout with his hips,and he has lived life to the fullest, but about 6 months ago he began to have a persistent cough. After much investigation we discovered Tagg had an enlarged heart due to congestive heart failure. He coughed and hacked a lot and was a little short of breath, even though he was on meds,, but kept going about his life, being his sweet, cheerful self. As the months passed his condition worsened, he couldn't get his breath, and had difficulty eating and sleeping. He could no longer play or go on long  walks, but he still had his zeal for life and a happy disposition, continuing the self assigned role in our family of protector, encourager and comedian.

  Then came the day when all he could do was lift his head off the floor and wag his tail when he saw us. He was obviously in pain and I knew it was time to step up and make the dreaded decision to have him put to sleep. Where I had questions in the past about what he would want me to do, this time I was certain I was doing the right thing. His eyes said he was ready to go. We are very fortunate, we have a vet that makes house calls. She came today to ease his passing. He went to his final sleep peacefully at home with his family around him.

  His passing leaves me with a heavy heart, an empty house, and too much quiet. I feel so strange, so lost, unable to think. I don't want to eat or sleep, I don't want to do my daily tasks. I just want to stop... to sit, to think of nothing, to feel nothing. I want to hide from the inevitable, fast approaching wave of grief. I know it will come, I have had much experience with grief... and I know I will be defenseless against it for a season. But I also know that there will be a day when the grief will recede, when my days will start to feel "normal" again and life will go on.

  I believe that God imbues His animals with His character so that while they are with us they can be a living example of how we should live our lives. As a way of honoring his memory and dealing with his absence, I will try hard to live by the example that he modeled for me every day of his life; to find joy in the simple things in life, to never stop trying and love unconditionally and without stint. I know that Tagg did his job here on earth very well and I will take solace in the knowledge that now he rests in the presence of his Creator.

  . Tagg 2003-2015

    Rest in peace my lovely boy.

Think Pink #1 Has Returned!

In May of this year, I sent out 4 numbered "flamingo" post cards. Each was numbered and sent out as an add and pass. Well, recently Think Pink postcard #1 came home! I am happy to be able to post this first card and celebrate it's return home! I am hoping that the other cards will find their way home as well... the longer it is though, the less chance there is of that but, I will remain hopeful anyway! So here it is!!

Postcard #1 visited 5 different people and visited Limner twice! She is such a good sport, she added something a second time and sent it on again, bless her! That was so much fun I think I'll do it again! Next theme...? Space, the final Frontier....

Recently I received in the mail, a fun add and pass postcard from Su Mwamba at TangleCrafts. It is themed Friends and Faux. To play you add your original artistamp, drawn/created/crafted to one of her lovely postcards and pass it on to someone else you think would like to participate. I have participated in one of her artistamp add and passes before and it was a lot of fun to see the other stamps that were affixed before the card reached me. She also posted photos of the ones that came home. It was inspirational to see all those creative original artistamps together on the cards! This time she has created a blog called friendsandfaux.wordpress.com to track the travels of her cards. If you are interested in finding out more then click here and read all about her mailart project. This is a fun way to participate in the world of mailart and have the opportunity for some pretty cool artistamps to pass through your hands on their travels! If you are interested in participating, you can find out how to get a chance to play by signing up here. It is also possible to participate by going to her store and purchasing a starter kit.

I have to get this card out in the mail shortly,(in the next day or so), but if you are interested in being the next person to add an artistamp to this card, be the first to post a comment on this blog post or send me an e-mail at elle.mental@yahoo.com with your addy and I will send it on to you post haste!. Please though, if you ask to receive it, add your artistamp and send it on promptly so that we can see the finished card make it home!

Until next time, I'll see you in the mail!

Computer Woes

Hi everyone!
    Sorry that it has been so long since my last post... The hard drive in my computer died. I lost a bunch of precious things that can't be replaced. Even though we have a routine back-up schedule for camera downloads, an external hard drive, back up external hard drive, and CD's of all my photos, I still lost hundreds of photos that I was working on by subject that were not in the area of my comp. where I keep raw photos, and all of my original artwork like my most recent artistamps and stationery designs... sigh. I have sulked about this long enough, and have now added an extra step to my back up process to assure I get all my work backed up, not just the photos from my camera, now I am going to stop grieving and move on.
   My husband set out to supply me with a computer as soon as he could. He gave me his, searched out the Adobe Photoshop disks which had disappeared from their normal location and refused to be found for several days and installed Adobe on his comp. so I could continue to work uninterrupted. He has been trying to resurrect an older computer to satisfy his non work related computer use. Did I mention what a great guys he is...? Now I need get over myself and get back to blogging...
  For a few terrifying moments I was afraid that if the source of the photos didn't exist, the photos in my blogs wouldn't be in my blogs anymore, but my husband set my fears to rest by explaining how the photos are called from blogger, not from my computer. If I had stopped to think I would have reasoned that out myself, but I was in full fledged panic mode when I found out my hard disk died and wasn't thinking.
  So now I will be trying to get back into the swing of things and hopefully will be posting on a regular basis again. Until then, I hope you all have a great weekend!

Mail is a Gift

Recently I have been gifted with some really wonderful mail. The blue berd of happiness has visited my p.o. box from Texas where my dear pen friend Limner lives. Limner's signature blue "berd" never fails to bring a smile to my face. Her art and her letters are frequent visitors to my mail box and I always feel like it's my birthday when I see something in the mail from her. She just has a way of making me feel special. Thank you Limner, for your generosity and for knowing just when I need a fix from Texas!

Sirpa Roos my talented and generous pen friend from Finland shared her vacation to Gran Canaria with me by sending me sand from the gigantic sand dunes there. She actually made a second trip back to the dunes to collect sand for me! On the bag of sand was a photo of Sirpa on the dunes, which was a great idea and really connected me with her experience!  Accompanying the sand was a lovely watercolor painting of eggs and nest that Sirpa painted. It evokes such a sense of peace.... just beautiful! Thank you Sirpa!

In case you are wondering why Sirpa was sending me sand... I have been collecting sand for many years. I have it from a variety of places around the world. I always collect sand from the beaches I go to and even though I only take a modest amount of sand, I usually have enough sand to share. If you have a trip planned to the beach, or like me, have a sand collection, I would be delighted to trade sands with you! If you send me a couple of tablespoons of sand for my collection I will gladly share something from I have collected from my travels... How about sand from the 16 story sand dunes at Jockeys Ridge, North Carolina, (a few miles from Kitty Hawk where Orville and Wlibur conducted their flight experiments), or maybe some sand from the black sand beach at Playa Tarcoles in Costa Rica? If you do send me sand, please label it so that I know what beach it came from. I would also love to hear about the your trip to the beach!

I hope that you are having a lovely day! See you in the mail!

Think Pink and Other Mail Art Fun

I decided to take a day off from working in the garden and spent the morning playing at my art desk. It has been a very long time since I have been able to even think about mail art, it sure felt good! Some time ago I purchased some damaged children's books from Goodwill as well as an interesting 33 r.p.m. album cover. I have been planning to make post cards with them and today I finally got the chance.

 Here are some of the postcards I made from the children's book.

 The dragon looks so much like the Chinese New Year dragon stamp that I couldn't resist getting the book so I could make these postcards!

 The hummingbird is from a rubber cut I made last year. The little steam punk bird is from a rubber cut that a friend of mine made for me.

  The flamingo postcards were made from an album cover that I found at Goodwill.

I thought it would be fun to do a little add and pass.I have sent out 4 postcards with an invitation to add something to the front of the card, either something pink, or flamingo themed. Then cover the existing address with a new address label, add the appropriate postage, (trying not to cover the old postage completely if possible), and send it on to someone else. The hope is that the card will travel around to a few people, being decorated along the way and then when the card has no more room for postage, it will be sent back to me and I will scan them and put them up on the blog for everyone to enjoy.

I would also like to invite anyone who wants to play along to send me a pink or flamingo themed postcard and I will scan them and put them up on the blog. If you would like for me to send it on to others I will be glad to do so after I scan it. Just put your instructions on the back and I will add to it scan it and send it on to someone else.

Well it was fun while it lasted, but my day off is over... ,  tomorrow I will be planting squash and potatoes, cutting lettuce to encourage a second flush of tender leaves before it is too hot and they bolt, juicing bunches of green leafies from the garden and planting more seeds in flats. If you are interested in seeing what I have been up to and would like to take a look at our little homestead, please come and visit my other blog www.aviewfromthecottage.blogspot.com The particular post I am linking you to is "A Day in the Life" and a tour of the gardens at Heart's Ease Cottage, but there are many more posts, recipes and lots of tutorials on the site so look around! Why don't you come for a visit and please be sure to leave me an comment saying "HI". I always reply to comments made on the blog and follow back to your blog if you have one, to leave you a comment. Until next time, I will see you in the mail!

A Quiet Evening

Dear Friends,
   Well it is finally here... the Sabbath. From Friday at sundown to Saturday at sundown, we stop the daily grind and slip into a quieter state of being. I look forward to this time with relish. I prepare for it all week, each day doing something in preparation for a "down day". So that when the Friday evening arrives, the house is clean , food is already prepared, loose ends are tied up and I am mentally ready to change gears. I put down all my burdens and concerns, open a bottle of wine, light the Sabbath candles, breathe a deep sigh of relief and thank the Creator of the Universe for such a gift!. The scriptures say that the Sabbath should be considered a delight... that is a wonderful description of it... it is delightful.

Tonight my husband and I are in the sitting room in front of a toasty, crackling fire. I can hear the wind chimes on the front porch tinkling in the chilly breeze. My dog Tagg is snoozing on his bed at my feet. I have had a very busy week and I am tired. There hasn't been much time for being in the moment and enjoying  my surroundings. I have been pretty much head down, plowing through a long list of to-do's. Some weeks are like that, especially at this time of year when there is so much to do in preparation for the spring garden. But tonight, I can allow myself to be tired, to doze, to contemplate, to search my heart and find that special place where meet I with my Heavenly Father. There are not words to describe the peace.

I have been thinking about all my dear mail art and pen friends, remembering details I have learned about them through their letters, and counting each person as a blessing. I have not been writing very much recently, not because I don't want to, there just hasn't been much time for writing and by the end of the day I am so spent I don't have any words left. I am very fortunate to have some really great people to correspond with. I have not met most of the people I write face to face, I  met them through my blog, or other postal avenues, but their words encourage me, inspire me, and keep me company. I am grateful for each of them. Tomorrow I will not be so tired since I will have had some time to decompress, so I hope to spend some happy hours chatting on paper with my pen friends and making some mail art.

Well I hope this finds you well, happy and hopefully enjoying some down time of your own! Until next time, I will see you in the mail!

An Update on Tagg's Condition

Tagg is doing much, much better! It has taken awhile, but he is now able to walk without limping, can get around on his own and on a good day can even run a little bit. Unfortunately, I don't think he will ever be back to the way he was, but I am very happy for the improvements he has made! He has had to learn new ways to play, since much of his previous play had to do with playing chase and tag, running from room to room, and tugging rope, (which he doesn't have the balance for any more). He has been quite inventive, making up little games like "where's the puppy", (the hides under his blanket and wags his tail until I "find" him, then he shakes the blanket, crawls under it again and wags his tail, waiting to be found. He is still a puppy at heart, even though his body would tell him differently. He brings laughter and joy to our household and I am very grateful for his renewed strength and the possibility for quality of life

Tagg

It was my intention to write letters today, and I probably will when I finish this post, but I decided I would rather post about what was on my mind rather than write letters about it...I sometimes think that I like animals better than people, but as much as I love them I never thought we would have an indoor dog. My youngest son inherited my weak lungs and struggled terribly with asthma as a small child. We had animals, but they didn't live indoors. Then at the age of 14, it had been two years since he'd had any trouble with his asthma, and he had expressed many times a desire for a dog, so we decided to get him one.

We home schooled our kids, so this seemed like a perfect research assignment for school. E.M. was to research which breeds of dogs met our criteria, no dander, no shedding, not high strung or yappy. His research  found several breeds that fit the bill. The breed that appealed the most was the West Highland Terrier. He also studied about crate and obedience training, animal first aid, and how to teach them tricks. So a few days before his 14th birthday, we set off to search the pets stores to find a Westy puppy.* (I know, I know... a pet store puppy, what about the whole "puppy mill" thing? For an answer to this question read the paragraph at the end of the post). We made a list of the stores that had a Westy pup for sale and began our exploration.

The store we went to had one Westy pup and someone was looking at it when we got there, so we just cruised around looking at the other animals while we waited for them to finish. The door to the service area of the puppy nursery was a dutch door and the top of the door was open, so as we walked by we caught sight of a puppy that was out on the floor getting a bit of exercise. The woman who was watching him while he was out of his cage was unpacking boxes and there was packing paper on the floor around her feet. The puppy raced by her, grabbed one of the pieces of paper and ran with it as fast as he could, until she caught up with him and took the paper. I turned and saw stars in my son's eyes... Oh dear,this was not the Westy puppy... it was a little buff Cocker Spaniel... Cockers shed... (the requirement for no shedding was mine, since I knew I would end up being the one to clean up the hair, and was the only household member who would care if the black pants they were wearing looked like the dog slept on them, etc.)
But I knew that look... so we asked if we could see him.

The woman opened the dutch door to let us in and the pup took the opportunity to snag a piece of the packing paper and dash out the open door. We turned to see the little stinker making his escape down one of the isles, the paper blocking his view as it flapped up over his head. E.M. took off after him, fearing that the front door of the store would open and he would get outside. Ever tried to catch a puppy out on a lark? It is not as easy as you think.... after a try or two at grabbing him, he decided to try another approach, he sat down, patted the floor in front of him and acted like he wanted to play. The pup stopped, looked at him, dropped his paper and ran towards him at top speed. When he got within range, the puppy bounded onto E.M.'s lap and tagged him on the chest with both feet. He then jumped off, avoiding capture, but stopped just out of reach, and turned to looked at him as if to say, "Tag! you're it!" Needless to say, the Westy puppy never had a chance... Tagg went home with us that day.


E.M. had educated himself well on puppy training, and Tagg was a champ. Crate training was a breeze, obedience training went well, "Sit", "Stay" and "No" were well understood and usually complied with, there was really only one problem... Tagg had a paper addiction, specifically toilet paper or tissues. He never touched books or magazine, and only chewed up the occasional school work, but he couldn't resist toilet paper. If you left the house and forgot to put the T.P. out of reach, you would come home to a toilet papered house. It would be everywhere, shredded into tiny pieces. If a friend came to visit and there was a tissue in her handbag, you would find Tagg up to his shoulders in her bag, helping himself to her tissue. I would shout his name and his head would snap up, one side of his lip tucked up and his mouth full of tissue, he would give me a sheepish look and spit out the soggy wad of kleenex. He knew he shouldn't do it but he just couldn't help himself. Even now at the age of eleven, if someone forgets the close the bathroom door when we leave the house, we will come home to find Tagg looking like "the cat who ate the canary", with a piece of T.P. stuck to his jowl and confetti trailing from the bathroom to the front door.

He learned many tricks, that entertained us and others who came to the house. When I was struggling with mobility issues due to a Fibromyalgia relapse, I trained him to pick things up for me. If I dropped a piece of clothing that I was folding he would pick it up for me. If I knocked my reading glasses off the table, he would gently pick the up and drop them in my lap, smudged with slobber, but at least I didn't have to pick them up! One day long after my relapse, when I was feeling good again and didn't need Tagg's help anymore, I was sorting pieces of fabric, a pile to keep, a pile for Goodwill. The Goodwill pile was at my feet on the floor. I was looking at a stack of fabric in my lap when I felt Tagg's presence at my feet. I looked up to see what he wanted, and I saw him standing there, wagging his tail, with the pile of "Goodwill fabric" in his mouth. His eyes said "Here Mommy, I got these for you!"

He won't eat store bought dog treats and looks at you like he is being punished if you give him one. He is afraid of the Kong chew toy that I paid $15 for, (you know the one that has the hole in the middle that you can put peanut butter in...), and he leaves his sharp little pieces of beef bone strategically around the house where my bare feet will find them. He hogs the couch and snores so loud that you need to turn the volume up on the movie you're watching. He would leave enough hair on the floor to produce a new Cocker Spaniel every three days if I didn't have his long beautiful coat clipped short. He had been banned from every groomer for 20 miles, for being "difficult" about having his feet clipped. I didn't know what I was going to do about getting him groomed, until I met Dawn,  Tagg's godmother and premier dog whisperer at "Furry Godmother's",(Dawn is local groomer and dear friend, who has a gentle and effective way of helping animals deal with their fears and neurosis.) She even traveled down to Costa Rica when we lived there to groom him, (of course that was just one of her reasons for the visit, but bless her, she brought her clippers and she and her husband clipped him outdoors ... I still remember the winds catching balls of his fur and carrying them high into the rainforest...Sigh.)

Tagg is the only dog I've ever met who smells flowers

Tagg is my protector. When my husband is off camping and I am alone in the house, he patrols the house going from room to room, periodically and then settles down to sleep in the doorway to my bedroom until it is time to do the rounds again. If on the leash, he won't let anyone within leash reach of me, anyone, friend or foe... No Fedex guy, phone repairman, or neighbor checking their mail will ever go unwarned that he is on duty. He alerts me if I don't hear the oven timer going off, if the phone rings in my purse, if the washer is out of balance and is walking across the floor... and he has saved my life by warning me of a gas leak in the kitchen. A kettle of water I put on to boil sloshed over and put the flame out underneath the pot, gas had been pouring into the house for a long time while I was in the back room working. He ran to the family room and barked then ran away, when I didn't follow he came back and barked again, then went to the kitchen and barked and barked until I came and found him barking at the stove. The smell of gas was strong, if the space heater had been on the whole house could have gone up in flames! He is my hero...

Watching for the mail to come

Tagg is also my comforter and councilor. He licks away my tears and offers his upturned tummy to be rubbed when I feel sad. He looks at me with his soft brown eyes that speak louder than words, and tells me that he loves me no matter what and that everything will be alright. If I leave a room, he goes with me. He keeps my floor clean in the kitchen and has spent half of his days dusted in flour or spotted with carrot juice, since he insists on laying at my feet while I am working in the kitchen. He never judges me, never holds a grudge or sees my faults...

When Tagg was 8 years old, I started seeing some wasting around his right hip and though it didn't seem to bother him I kept it in mind and worried that it there might be something wrong. But he had always been barrel chested and slim hipped so I let it go for the time being. Then one day when he and I were out for a walk on the greenway, he took a miss-step and his hind leg slipped off the walkway. He yelped and limped/ dragged his right leg. I checked to see if he had an injury, but there wasn't anything visible. I massaged his right hip and gave him a few minutes to shake it off. Then we tried to walk back to the car, but he couldn't walk more than a step or two without crying out, So I picked him up, which hurt too... It was at least a 1/2 mile back to the car so it was a long walk for both of us. It was hard for me to get my arms around him in a way that didn't hurt his hip, and carrying 40 pounds for that distance, meant I had to stop and put him down so that I could catch my breath. I think we were both wishing for a wagon at that moment.

I took Tagg to the vet, where my previous fears were confirmed. Tagg has Hip Dysplasia. I was told there was little that could be done for him, except for surgery, which isn't always very successful. So I went home and did some research. I found that eating a diet of raw meat and vegetables can help to strengthen the connective tissues and increase synovial fluid production. So I started grinding chicken thighs up, added blueberries, carrots and peas and fed him that twice a day. I also found a product called Nzymes,which is used to improve synovial production in animals with joint issues. After a few weeks on the raw diet and the Nzyme tablets, Tagg began to walk normally again and showed little if any favoring of his hip unless it was stressed or moved wrong. So Tagg'slife began to return to normal, but in the back of my mind I knew that this wouldn't always be the case.

It rained the other morning. Da had taken Tagg for his morning potty break and was walking down the sidewalk with him when he heard him yelp. Tagg was standing hold up his left leg. He couldn't walk much since his right hip isn't very strong. He usually relies on his left and the right just follows suit. Our best guess is that his feet slipped apart on the wet walk,stressing his left hip. I made up a bed for him at my feet and spent the day trying to ease his pain. I had to carry him out to use the bathroom and hold him up so he could go. If he tried to walk using his right hip as his primary way to propel himself, he can go a step or two and then he had to sit down. The next day was a little better, but he really didn't leave his bed and he wouldn't eat or drink unless I hand fed him and held his water dish up to his mouth. By the third day he could use his left leg a little and could walk to go outside, but wasn't doing much else. I have started giving him sprouted soybeans (which do what the Enzmes do but are fresh, living food, not in a tablet), medicating when necessary, and I am looking to see improvement in mobility. There does seem to be some hope that he will get better than he is, but if the right hip is any indication, it will not be like it was before the mishap.

Tagg has been so much a part of my life, a constant, loving and true companion. The dog that started out as a birthday present for my son has become like one of my kids to me. What would I do for one of my kids? I would do anything within my power to take care of them, protect them, love them... Their pain is my pain... If Tagg needs me to carry him, to help him up and down, to feed him by hand, I will gladly do it. He has always been there for me, and if it was within his power, I know that he would do whatever I needed him to do, I will do no less. But I am now faced with a situation that every pet owner/ animal friend dreads... what if this hip issue doesn't get better enough to allow him a quality life? What if the rest of his life is spent in pain, unable to play or take a walk, having to bear the humiliation of diapers? When do I, as the person who is responsible for his care and accountable to God for his well being, say that it is time to end his suffering? When is his life no longer of any good to him? I can't ask him, I can only guess what he considers a good life, but I think he would say a good life is to be able to love and protect his family, to be a part of our lives. Can he do that from his bed, with us hauling him and his bed around the house so he can be where we are? Yes, for now. I am going to buy a wagon with high sides that I can take him around in, I am going to continue to feed him the foods and supplements that will help him recover. I will work with him to help him get his strength back. I will pray for healing and  for some more time... His mind is sharp, his heart is strong, only his legs are failing him, so I am praying that God will give him healing and and allow both of us more time to be together.

**See the Update on Tagg's condition**

 * Why not adopt one of the many pups who are in shelters,  just waiting for a good home? Well that would have been our preference, but with E's asthma issues we needed a pure bred animal that  had no dander so, it was going to be a puppy from a breeder or a pet store. We did some research and found a pet store that made available to the customers, information about the breeders who supplied them with puppies. If we found a puppy that we wanted,  we would check out the breeder and make sure that they were practicing responsible, humane breeding practices and that the animals under their care were kept in clean safe conditions.

A New Artistamp

I have been playing around with ideas for a set of four artistamps. The set will have a stamp to represent each of the four seasons. I have two done and have two more in the works. I am not sure yet what date I will set for a First Day of Issue, but for sure it will be after I get the other two artworks finished! I will make an announcement when I have set a date for the First Day release, so you can get on my mailing list if you want to receive the First Day cover.

In the meantime I will show you the most recent stamp. It was intended to go out on all my holiday mail, but in the end only a few people received one, since I was sick all through the holidays and didn't mail much out. If you would like to receive the individual stamp then leave a comment or e-mail me at elle.mental@yahoo.com with your mailing addy and I will be glad to mail one out to you.

                           Until next time, I'll see you in the mail!

Starting Small

Happy New Year everyone!
   Well I am writing again! I am starting small, sending and receiving a few letters, writing some blog pages... For the next few weeks I am going to be focusing on my other blog. I have had a backlog of tutorials and blog posts that I have had in the works for almost a year, I need to get them up before I can begin to work on this blog again. If you would like to see what has been going on around our homestead or just want to drop in and see how I am :) then please follow the link and come for a visit! aviewfromthecottage.blogspot.com
   On the subject of mail art and letter writing, I have given myself a couple of assignments and hope to begin working on a set of artistamps to launch my 2013 mailart endeavors. I'll give you a sneak preview in a few days. Until then, I will see you in the mail!

Progress?

Hi it is me again! Unfortunately I am still not blogging or letter writing with any regularity, but I think I am closer to being back on my feet than I have been in quite some time. My husband and I continue to eat vegan/raw and we have both improved quite a bit. I am walking 15-20 miles a week, I have lost 30 pounds (not all of which I meant to lose... I thought I only needed to lose about 15 lbs. but I guess my body had different ideas), and my energy and overall health have improved greatly. Now I just need to get my groove back..
I look at my letter writing things and I just don't feel like I have anything to talk about... I stare at a blank page or write something and it sounds so stilted and contrived that I bunch it up and throw it away. I have writers block... actually it is a creative block. Every time I try to start a project, even a small one to try to resurrect my creative self it leaves me cold. Could the last year really have killed my ability to create, to write, to converse with my dear pen friends? Has that part of my life slipped away, never to return? I am beginning to fear that it has. I so much want to be myself again, to be full of ideas and wishing for more time to devote to my passion for letter writing, art and blogging, but I feel dead inside.
  Has anyone else ever felt this way and recovered? What do you do for creative burnout and writers block? I would love to hear your thoughts.

It is Time for an Explanation

I think a bit of an explanation is due.... It has been a long time since my last post, and I have been pretty sketchy about writing for months before that. I have not lost interest in my blogs or in letter writing, even though it may look that way. I have talked about being busy, which I have been, but there has been more to it than that. I have tried on many occasions to compose a post talking about my most recent incoming mail/outgoing mail or a missive on letter writing, but I just haven't been able to do so.
When I returned from our trip to Costa Rica in January, I was feeling great. I had spent 6 weeks hiking, breathing fresh clean air, eating wholesome fresh fruits and veggies and enjoying the peace of the rainforest. It was wonderful to feel so good.
 After just a few weeks back in the States all the vigor and well being I had enjoyed in Costa Rica was gone and my health was deteriorating daily. I limped along for awhile trying to cope and then it got to the point where I didn't feel like doing anything. I have struggled with Fibromyalgia for many years, some times the symptoms are manageable and life is pretty normal, other times it is very debilitating and I am unable to do even the simple things in life without a struggle. Since early spring I have been dealing with a bad stretch, I have been trying to keep up with my household responsibilities and all the garden tasks, but there hasn't been much left at the end of the day.
While we were living in Costa Rica in 2009-2010, I  wondered why I felt so good, I had far less pain and fatigue, and more energy than I had enjoyed since I was a young woman.... I thought maybe it was the low stress way of life and ultra clean environment, but what ever the reason I was very happy to have my health back.  I was crushed when we moved back to the States and my health quickly declined. Each time we go back to Costa Rica for a visit, my health and my quality of life improves immensely, and upon each return to the States my heart breaks as my health fades away... But why...? What was it about Costa Rica that made such a difference?
While we lived in Costa Rica, we spent our days outside working the farm. The hard work and highly oxygenated air gave us all a voracious appetite and we ate constantly. The foods we ate were simple, fresh fruits and vegetables, rice and beans. We ate very little meat due to the high cost of meat and poultry, no cheese since the available cheese was of very inferior quality and costly, and no packaged foods with the exception of tomato sauce and mustard. We had no oven and only a two burner gas hot plate to cook on, so most of our food was eaten very close to its original condition...raw. We practically lived off Batidas, (fresh fruit smoothies), vegetable salads and Gallo Pinto, (a traditional Costa Rican black beans and rice dish). The fresh air, exercise and low stress were no doubt factors in my improved health,  but I began to think that diet was the "secret ingredient".
I have always eaten healthy, choosing to grow and eat my own organically grown produce, eggs and  raw dairy from our own milking herd. For brief periods  over the years I have eaten a little poultry on occasion, but for the better part of 25 years I was a Lacto/ Ovo Vegetarian. I began adding meat to my diet when I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. The doctor told me that I would need more protein to repair my damaged muscle tissue than a vegetarian diet would provide, so I started adding poultry and a small amount of beef to my diet. Big mistake... Not only did it not improve my condition, but for the first time in my life I had trouble keeping my weight where I wanted it.
So to test out my thoughts that our diet in Costa Rica was integral to my improved health, I decided to  eliminate all animal products from the menu for 60 days. I  started juicing carrots and lots of green leafies, and made fruit smoothies and "green drinks", (super food drinks including barley and wheat grass), for breakfast and to fill the hungry gaps between meals. Soon I started feeling stronger, I was losing some weight and my pain was back in the tolerable range. Encouraged, I took another step or two, I have eliminated all soy products and have gone to a mostly raw diet. 
It has been 3 months since I started my test, in that time the pain had been reduced by 80%, (I still have pain at night sometimes or when I over do), the fatigue has all but disappeared, (hallalujah!), I am not fighting depression, and...I have lost 12 pounds! I have decided to end the "test" and make the changes a permanent part of my life. For the moment, I can't do anything about the air quality, or enjoy the slower paced, low stress lifestyle I enjoyed in Costa Rica, but I am very encouraged by the improvements changing my diet has made.
This blog post is a very positive benchmark as well since for months, try as I may, I couldn't  think clearly enough to compose a decent blog entry or write letters. I wanted to, since writing is my happy place, but I just couldn't fight through the fog in my brain. Now the fog is beginning to clear and  I might even have a flicker of a creative spark returning so that maybe soon I can make some mailart to send to my dear pen friends.
I know this post was too long in coming, I should have tried to explain my absence sooner, but I didn't know what to say. I want to blog about the things in life that I love, not talk about my problems... who wants to hear them any way...? It is very easy to hide "real life" situations in the blogosphere, to build the illusion of a rosy life without the bumps and pitfalls that make up a life beyond the pen or computer, it is easy and safe, but not genuine. I haven't posted because I couldn't write about the things I love, I had temporarily lost sight of them, so rather than admit there was a problem, I just didn't write at all. I am sorry. I have missed writing, I have missed you all... I am hoping that very soon I will be back to regular blogging, writing letters, making artistamps and finding bits and pieces of mailart flotsom from my latest creation stuck to the bottom of my shoe... Hopefully soon I will be seeing you in the mail!

Referrer Spam

I am posting this to hopefully keep other bloggers from experiencing the problem that I am having with Google/Blogger at the moment.
Recently I noticed some traffic sources in my stats that I didn't recognize. Because I have little experience with nefarious internet ploys and pitfalls, I innocently clicked the traffic link to see where the new traffic was coming from. It was a porn site... I quickly hit the back button and grumbled to myself that a porn site was referring people to my blog... Well that is not what is happening. No one is actually coming to my blog from this site, it is a spammer who gets paid by clicks and is using Blogger to collect money for fake clicks via my blog. I unfortunately I now have this site and two others (probably the same person with multiple sites) messing up my traffic stats. I am not really interested in numbers except that it is nice to know that my posts are being read and to see that I am reaching people, so the stats aren't a biggie anyway. But it bothers me that I have to be suspicious and skeptical of tools that Blogger has given me to help me with my blogging.
There is nothing that Blogger or Google can do about this since the traffic from these sites looks the same as normal traffic to my site. According to what little info I can get on the subject from forums, the only way to prevent these spam sites from ruining your stats and abusing Google/blogger bandwidth is to never click on the Referring Traffic links in your stat information. By doing so the Spammers will have access to your traffic stats and your numbers will climb exponentially from one day to the next. If Google doesn't have any way to control Referrer Spam then I wish they would just not make it possible to follow a traffic link to start with! Google says that eventually there will be enough complaints and trending from a particular spammer that they can identify them and block them, but until that happens I will just have to not pay attention to my traffic stats or page views, and try not to think about the dark forces that lurk behind everything that is done on the web...
  Sometimes I think I will give up on the Internet, just close my laptop and disconnect my access, because there is so much junk that can be stumbled across while trying to go about my own business. I am not wired to think bad of people and I hate having to be suspicious and cautious of what would seem to be simple things, like opening an e-mail without a subject line, or now... using the tools that were given to me to use by Blogger. But without Internet access, I wouldn't be able to connect with some of the people I love who live far away, or express myself  by writing my blogs, I would miss out on relationship with all the friends I have made through my blogs and that would diminish my world considerably, so I won't stop using the Internet...But much to my dismay I do feel like something has been taken from me. I am exposed here on the web, not safe to go about my business in peace. What a shame..

** so if you see unfamiliar links on your traffic stats... Don't click them! 

Blog Hops that this post is linked to:
Clever Chicks Blog Hop #24

Paring Down the To Do List

Hi there!
  It has been way to long since my last post and even longer since I got any mail out... it seems like the hurried-er I go...the behinder I get...
  I really have been making progress, but there is still much to be done. Today we finally got the tile laid in the bathroom. My husband did the heavy work, mixing mortar and trimming tile and I spread the mortar and laid the tile. It will be a day or two before we can grout, since the mortar needs to cure for awhile, but soon I can grout and the bathroom will be functional again... makes me grateful we have a second bathroom!

There is still much work to be done in the garden, and as soon as I am able to put the bathroom project down for a day or two, that is where I will be spending much of my time. But I have been working on a little postal project in the wee hours of the morning, and hopefully soon I will have it ready to go out...

Here is a little sneak peek of what I have been up to when I should be sleeping! Hopefully soon I will see you all in the mail!

If you would like to hear what is happening at Heart's Ease Cottage, come check out my blog www.aviewfromthecottage.blogspot.com There is a new post up there too!

Postal Sticker Shock

  I went today to collect my mail and found that I was locked out of my P.O. Box. The post office sent me an envelope earlier this month so I could send in my annual POB payment, but they neglected to note how much to send in...Typical. Usually they send me a notice threatening to reissue my box to someone else if I don't pay the rent due, having never sent me a notice that the rent was due in the first place. I guess this is an improvement... I haven't been back to the post office during office hours, since the day I received the notice, so I had no idea how much the payment due was.
  Today I was out running errands and got to the post office during business hours so I could pay my POB rent. Wow... What a shock! When I first opened the POB in 2001 the rent was $12 for a year. Today I had to shell out $44 to get my mail out of jail. Gulp! I don't like to complain, and I normally try not to grumble about my local post office, no matter how much they ask for it... but really? Last year the fee was $32, that up from $15 the year before we went to Costa Rica... It just seems kind of steep for the kind of service that my post office provides.
  The cost probably wouldn't bother me if it weren't that the service to my POB is so very bad... I regularly receive mail for someone who is deceased, two other people have rented that box since she held it, I also get their mail. This means that every time I check my mail, I have to go to the counter and wait for them to take the errant mail from me. Then I have  to remind them again that this person hasn't had this box in at least 5years, that I would like for them to stop putting her mail in my box. I get the customary, "I'll take care of it", as I watch them take the mail from me and throw it back in the to be delivered box, where it will go through the system again and then end up in my box again a day or so from now. Sigh.
  I try hard not to, but I really dislike my local post office. The employees are rude, intolerant, seemingly incompetent and insist that I answer their long list of questions and options individually. If I try to interrupt the process by stating that, "I only want my stamps, nothing else thank you", one particularly irritating postal worker will hold her finger up and say "Please let me finish", then go on to ask her questions while holding my stamps hostage until she is done. I have to confess that the last time she did that, since I was just needing to make sure I had the enough postage on a letter and had confirmed that I didn't owe anything, I turned and walked away while she was still going through her little schpeel... I am not proud of that, I try to be polite and considerate to everyone I come in contact with, but when she stuck her finger up, it was either walk away or say something that I know I would regret...
  Usually, I just check my box at this post office, since the postal workers are not very helpful. If I need to buy stamps or do other postal transaction, I wait until I am driving towards Charlotte, and conduct my business at one of the post offices there. But on occasion, like the POB rent, I have to deal with my local postal workers. It is almost always an unsatisfactory experience and I walk away wishing I could rent my POB in Weddington, a couple miles up the road. But when I asked the U.S.P.S in  Weddington, they said I have to rent a box within my zip code, so I guess I am stuck with my Waxhaw P.O. Box.
  I really enjoy writing letters and I need my P.O.Box, since the home delivery person is worse than the workers at the post office... letters go missing, the box lid not properly closed in the rain resulting in soggy mail, letters are delivered to a similar address on the other side of Waxhaw, where since the mail doesn't belong to them, they just throw it away! *We found this out when a piece of their mail was delivered to our box twice in the same week, (even with the street named circled so they would realize they delivered to the wrong address and it was placed back in the mailbox with the flag up for the postal worker to see...), so we hand delivered it to the person. They cheerfully told us thank you, and then blythely mentioned that the post office has been goofing up with our mail for quite some time, and that since telling the postal delivery person about it didn't remedy the problem, they just started throwing it away! Who does such a thing??? Did it never occur to them that we might like to receive our mail? What if it was important? So I decided that all important mail would be sent to a P.O. Box, at least there the mail wouldn't get wet!
  I wish that I could have the kind of relationship with my postal workers that I hear about from others in the letter writing community. I would love to look forward to going to the Post Office. My mail is one of the highlights of my day, but more often than not if I have to interact with the postal workers I go home from the post office feeling out of sorts. I hope for the sake of the U.S.P.S. and the future of letter writing, that my experiences with the postal system are the exception instead of the rule... 

A Little About What is Going On

I know that I haven't really written anything about letters or letter writing in awhile. This time of year is very busy at Heart's Ease Cottage. It is hard to get anything done inside when there are gardens to be planted and tended, and then the bathroom renovation is occupying the evening hours...
I am mostly caught up with my "letters to be written" stack, the ones that remain require special attention, (art desk time), so I haven't gotten them out. I haven't had a chance to check my P.O. Box in a week, but the last couple of times I checked, it was empty. It is a busy time of year for everyone! I will get back to regular posting and letter writing once I get the garden tasks under control...( "control" is tongue in cheek since the garden controls me, not the other way around!).
Until then, I will encourage you to see what we've been up to by checking out my other blog: www.aviewfromthecottage.blogspot.com where I have posted many photos of the gardens at the Cottage.
Also, my husband has authored an update on Samuel's progress at: www.akneeforsamuel.wordpress.com
if anyone is interested in how Samuel is doing.
I hope this finds you well and having a wonderful Spring! See you in the Mail!

We are so Grateful!

 Dear Friends,
   There are times in life when things happen that are so far above our own control that the we can clearly see the hand of God, no question, no doubt...
   We are in the midst of one of those times right now. I must say that I have been totally bowled over. If you have read my blog for awhile, then you are aware that we lived in Costa Rica for a year, and while there we became friends with a family that lived near our farm on the top of the mountain. Samuel, Lourdes and their extended family became as close to us as blood family. There are several posts about these wonderful people in the archives to catch you up on who they are, if you haven't heard of them before.

Da and Samuel at Cataratas Vienta Fresco

   Samuel and my husband were hiking buddies. They hiked up and down every mountain and volcano slope that they could find. But my husband had been noticing that Samuel was dealing with a lot of pain after their hikes. As time went on he started using a hiking stick, then he wasn't able to go on hikes any more. He finally confided to Daniel that as a young man, he was injured in a work related accident, which was never treated properly. The construction company he worked for did little to help him with his medical expenses and basically ignored the problem . He had to work, he had small children to feed, so he just lived with the injury and moved on. Unfortunately, after many years of living with an untreated injury, at 52 years old he was no longer able to do the physically demanding work that his job required.
  Jobs are hard come by in Costa Rica at the best of economic times, but with the local economy being closely tied to American tourism, the last few years have been very hard. What jobs there were in construction and tourism evaporated with the bursting of the American Mortgage Bubble. Samuel began to find other ways of earning a living, he used the back yard of his mother-in-laws house to raise meat chickens, and for awhile he was able to make enough to support his family from selling his chickens as butchered and dressed whole roasters. His method of sale was to butcher, clean, chill over-night in an extra fridge at his home and then on the following morning, take a 90 lb. sack of individually wrapped chickens, and walk with the sack selling them door to door. Samuel's home is at the foot of a very steep mountain  lane that lead up to our farm at the top, the other direction that he could walk was a steady incline for several miles.Everywhere he could sell his chickens was up hill from where he started. His knee continued to deteriorate to the point where he couldn't make the grade any more, (literally), and had to stop raising chickens.

Samuel before his knee gave way

  We were preparing to move back to the states in a few months, and we saw clearly the handwriting on the wall. Our dear friend, an honest and hardworking man, would soon fall into destitution, since everything he knew how to do required the use of his legs, and one leg was failing him. So my husband encouraged Samuel to have CAJA (Costa Rica's socialized medicine), evaluate his condition. They gave him an appointment for an evaluation 6 months in the future. In the meantime, my husband and I helped him to see a private doctor. We also helped him file for disability, and talked to a lawyer about pressing the construction company to pay for his medical care.
   The private doctor was able to tell Samuel why he was in such pain. The cartilage in his knee was completely gone, his knee was essentially gone and he was grinding bone on bone. The hopes of disability to help while he pursued a solution to his problem evaporated, according to the lawyer, there was no legal recourse that he could successfully take against the construction company, and CAJA said that they wouldn't authorize a knee replacement until he was 65 years old.... There seemed to be little hope.
  We came home and stayed in contact with Samuel, helping financially as we could, and continued to explore options long distance. Samuel's family pulled together, his 17 year old son went to work and Lourdes, his wife took on more house cleaning jobs, while the other kids did what they could to keep life on track. It brings tears to my eyes to think about it. As a family they showed such courage as faced their future together, and made the best of the life that they had.
  At home here in the states, Da and I prayed for a miracle, and kept encouraging Samuel not to give up. Then came the day that we called Samuel to find out about his visit to the CAJA doctor. He said the doctor had injected his knee with some kind of lubricant, which caused him a great deal of pain due to an allergic reaction. He also told him that if he couldn't wait until he was 65 years old to be put on a waiting list for a knee replacement, they could amputate his leg at the knee now to alleviate his pain. The very thought of it made my hair stand on end!!
  So with those options, it was going to take a miracle, and we continued to pray for God to help Samuel. Meanwhile my husband helped him to get into to see another private orthopedic specialist, who did arthroscopic surgery to place a pad between the bones to help with the grinding. It was supposed to give him 2-3 years, it lasted 3 months. The doctor gave a quote of $20,000.00 for knee replacement, which was a number that staggered Samuel and made us realize that for this to happen at all, we would need to begin fund raising immediately. We had no idea how to raise that much money, but prayed for provision and took the first steps in the journey of a thousand miles....
                                                              Miracle #1
  During the next several months we exhausted all possible contacts for medical help from Stateside doctors and were beginning to wonder if help would come. Then one day Lourdes, Samuel's wife, mentioned their problem to a woman that she cleaned for. The woman took an interest in their plight and contacted us.
   This was the beginning of an answer to prayer. Da and Ginny talked by phone, and then met face to face in December, when we were in Costa Rica for six weeks. Ginny had found a Costa Rican surgeon who trained at  Cleveland Clinic in Ohio, where her husband is a doctor. She had arranged a meeting with the surgeon while she was vacationing for a few weeks. So Samuel, Da, Ginny and I took the four hour bus ride to San Jose and met with the surgeon. He said that due to the damage done to his knee and his age, Samuel's only option was a knee replacement. He also understood that Samuel did not have the means to pay for the procedure and agreed to do the surgery for free!!! This would still leave about $ 10,000.00 in other medical bills, like the knee apparatus, hospital and anesthesiologist bills plus physical therapy and feeding Samuel'a family while he was getting back on his feet.... but $10,000 dollars at least in the realm of possibility.
   This story goes on for some time, and is just full of miracle after miracle. I have created a blog to keep informed those who are interested or have contributed to Samuel's knee surgery, with prayers, emotional support, and finances. If you want to hear the rest of the story, the link is: www.akneeforsamuel.wordpress.com .

I will be continuing to add updates there as things unfold. But to finish up here I will tell you that the outpouring of concern and love from so many quarters is really overwhelming... Ginny and her husband and Da and I agreed to come up with half of the money each that was needed, The total sum was raised in less than 30 days! As I write, Daniel is in Costa Rica, helping Samuel through his first two weeks after surgery. The replacement went well and Samuel is getting stronger every day. My cup runs over.... I can't help but tear up every time I think about it... Samuel has a new lease on life, but it doesn't stop there... I am renewed. I can see again, that there is hope and goodness in this world and I feel so close to the Creator who brushed away the impossible and made possible a knee for Samuel.

Samuel the day of his surgery April 10, 2012

I.U.O.M.A

 More than 10 years ago, while looking for pen pals on the internet, I ran across one of Ruud Jansen's websites, the TAM Rubberstamp Archive. One of several sites that Ruud had on the web at the time. That site opened a door for me into a whole new world of postal delight... Mail art.
  It was through the archive site that I learned about I.U.O.M.A. The International Union Of Mail Artists is a brain child of Ruud Jansen, a native of the Netherlands and long time mail artist. He originally started the "Union" in 1988 as a joke, but it has grown into a virtual world where more than 2000 mail artists come to interact with other mail artists. There are forums, members can post scans of their sent and received mail, join various interest groups and can even have their own blog on the site. If you haven't ever visited the site, you should give it a peek, there is a lot going on there. It is a great way to meet mail artists from around the world.