From Classless to Classic.

I love attending Garage Sales. Not just because of the good "deals" you might find, but because of the diverse personalities you'll meet. In most cases, people are very personable and elated to get rid of their junk and make a little money doing it. And there is always interesting and good conversations, especially when I'm with Joe.

On the flip side, I loathe the coordination and execution of one.

Each year I coordinate and put on a fundraising sale, with the help of volunteers, to raise money for a charity I strongly believe in. We spend weeks collecting donations and hours sorting through the donated items separating the salable items from the not-so-salable ones. We size and price everything, pack it away until the big day arrives. And then we spend two long days setting up for the three day sale.

Besides the long hours of bending, standing, lifting, toting, aching feet and sore backs, we have the stress of the weather.Will we have nice weather? Will our tents weather any storms that are predicted? Anyone who has ever hosted a sale has experienced the hard work, stress and sleepless hours getting prepared to make a few dollars.

At this year's annual Save Our Tail Sale, a benefit for the Raccoon Valley Animal Sanctuary & Rescue, I personally experienced two situations that were so polar opposite it had my emotions all in a whirl.

The first one was by a young woman (mid to late 20's) with a very young child (2 or 3 female). She wanted a beanie baby that was part of a collection series donated to us with the request by the donor that we sale them as collector items, not toys. She did not want to pay the collector price tag, and wanted us to split up the set to purchase just one of the items. My efforts to offer her alternative choices, including other beanie babies less valuable were refused. When I tried to explain to her the promise I had made to this donor, she replied, "I understand, but it really is OK. Do you really think they will ever know?". I responded to her with "I'LL know. I'll know that I didn't honor her wish, and that's NOT OK with me!". I then apologized and said she could purchase the collection to get the one item she wanted, or select one of the other not so valuable ones for her daughter to play with.

But she wanted what she wanted, and stormed away, angrily, muttering derogatory comments about me while she returned to her vehicle. Some people may not understand why I made that choice, but I gave my word to the woman who had donated over 100 of these collectible items (obviously important to her), that we would treat them with the same amount of love and respect she had for them. Even though I'm not a personal collector of beanie babies, my conscience wouldn't allow me to make a "deal" with this woman just to provide her a toy for her two year old to "play" with. But knowing I kept my promise, did not make me feel any better about the nastiness I just endured by what appeared to be a very selfish and spoiled young woman. It would bother me for the rest of the day.

On the flipside, later that afternoon, a fragile woman, feeble in step, and with a cane that barely helped her balance, approached our sale. She was obviously moving slowly due to pain and when she entered the sale tents her eyes immediately fixated on the craft table. While she sorted through ribbon and crafting miscellaneous, her eyes lit up on the obvious prize of the day: the pre-stamped quilt blocks ready for the handy work of any person who loves to do needlework.

They were donated by a very dear friend of my mother's. Having polio as a child, this woman struggled and endured pain with every step she took. Working long hours as the manager of a laundromat proved to be physically challenging for her, but she found a way to find humor in her daily journey through life. She then was diagnosed with a brain tumor whereas she would be forced to retire, without benefits, and live the remainder of her life on disability in a chair. She would persevere for 5 more years through pain and suffering, whittling away the long hours in her chair doing needlework. She then donated her completed projects to what she would refer to as "the less fortunate." Last year she lost her fight and spirit and passed, but she left a legacy of kindness and perseverance that I will not forget. She also left some unfinished projects behind, which were then donated for the fundraising sale.

The buyer asked how much for the whole box of quilt block patterns as she loved to do this type of needlework herself. As a volunteer began adding up the contents of the box, this sweet lady shared with us all the things she loves to do and what she does with her finished projects. Listening to all the people she has paid it forward to, I knew right then that she would carry on the legacy of the original donor's generosity. But I wasn't prepared for her reaction to my offer.

I told the woman I would give her the entire box, including the ribbon that caught her eye in the first place, (valued at over $75) for $35. I explained my reasoning as being the mere fact that what she had just shared with me regarding her daily challenges is exactly the type of person the donor was. Having 2 hip surgeries, 2 knee replacements and surviving breast cancer that resulted in a total mastectomy, she still had the heart to "give" to others.

She burst into tears, gave both me and the volunteer a huge hug, and clapped her hands as if she were a child, free of pain. And then she grabbed my arm and said, "I promise you I'll do right by your friend. I'll carry on her legacy with these. I'll give them to those less fortunate then myself...I'll do you proud."

Humbly, I hugged her back and as the tears fell down my cheek, I completely forgot about the "what's her name" that came before her. And I felt much better about my decision and my judge of character! Within a few hours, I had met all types of people, from the classless, to the classiest! It was a classic case of what some call the "me" generation...and I'm glad I wasn't born in it, raised in it, and will continue to not be a part of it.

A Sad Tail...

Nothing can send me into a frenzy quicker than an animal in distress. Remaining 'calm' through a crisis is much easier said then done, and last evening I once again had the challenge laid before me with my little Skipper Doodle!

After a long day of meetings and stress, I found myself on the telephone finishing up the day's business with a friend. Business conversation turned into our casual chat, which was after 10:30 of course, because that's when we have the TIME to catch up. Luckily for both of us, we keep the same nightly schedule.

I sat on the couch in the living room, chatting away, with animals all around me. Nothing is more soothing then sleeping companions next to you, that's for sure. Little Skipper quickly joined the ranks of sleepy time pets and settled in on my lap. That's when the call of nature hit.

Excusing myself I fulfilled nature's request. As I turned and shut off the bathroom light, I had my back to the hinged side of the door and began to pull it shut when I heard an ear piercing MEOWCH! As I quickly turned around I saw fur flying and cats running everywhere. Immediately I thought a cat had leaped on another cat. We have screamers in the house...for those cat lovers, you know that a screamer is a cat that never really gets touched but vocalizes as if he's being murdered!

As I rounded the corner to see "who" was yelling I saw a cowered little kitty, with tail whipping side to side and big black eyes staring right at me. I knew immediately that Skipper was hurt...something got him...something happened!

I quickly started towards him, but he zipped by me into the living room. My approaching energy set him into an escape motion, rather than a comforting one. I knew immediately I needed to take a big breath, calm down  or I wasn't going to get a hold of this cat to see what was wrong. In the meantime, we have the other cats picking up on this increasing energy level, and I didn't want an 'attack' to happen. Skipper was clearly in pain, and in defense mode.

I came into the room and once again was faced with a little cat, big pupils, arched back and tail a whipping side to side. I took a deep breath, and calmly said his name. "Skipper Doodle...what HAPPENED?" Everything from that moment on changed. He ran towards me, and reached up on my pant leg like he always does to be picked up. I swept him up in my arms and rushed him up the stairs to the bathroom, where I knew he'd be isolated and we could get him calmed down to assess him.

That's where I noticed the big bloody spot on his tail. And I knew he was in pain and confused.

We rushed him to the emergency clinic, where it was quickly decided he would need about 3" of his tail amputated. With bone protruding, they gave us the sad news, and we watched our little Skipper Doodle be carried back to the surgery area. I was torn between waiting there and coming home. I couldn't be with him, I couldn't hold him, comfort him...I could only sit in a waiting room and wait...and wait...and wait.

At 4:00 am we received a call from the hospital that he had gone through the surgery well and was waking up. They would call us around 7:00 am and let us know when he would be released. I frantically got a room ready for him while Joe went to pick him up.

By 9:30 Skipper was back home conehead and all. When we let him out of the carrier he went ballistic, thrashing about with the cone on his head, trying to back out of it all the while backing into walls with of course his wounded tail. When I asked why it wasn't bandaged, Joe quickly responded, "It was..for about 3 minutes!".

We removed the cone and decided someone will just have to be with him 24 hours until the healing process is over. He's a very active boy, and not someone who understands calmness. This makes the rehabilitation even more challenging, but we are getting through it.

I think the most important lesson here is about the power of the energy that we possess, and how we choose to use it, can determine the outcome of an event. I realize that if I remain calm, and don't get excited he will remain calm as well. He's extremely playful, despite the pain he is obviously in, but we will keep in on his pain meds, and remain calm. And hope that there is truth in the saying, "cats heal quickly".

Entering the World of Twitter...

Nothing can challenge you intellectually then to try and keep up with technology. I'm finding it more difficult these days to figure out how to communicate with the world. Perhaps that is why I never want to go anywhere!

I finally become functional in facebook, and they go and change it. The new "timeline" version is suppose to be more effecient for users. Really? Well I'm a user and am not seeing what everybody else sees I guess.

I see a webpage full of columns and text with scroll bars surrounding photos. I don't see any of my friends stuff, and when I do go searching for it, I find it's easier to just visit their wall. I'm a simple sort of person I guess. I didn't MIND scrolling over and over and over to see today's newsfeed! I guess the best thing to do is to admit, I need a facebook course. Online tutorials would be nice, wouldn't they?

So I figure what the hey, jump in and try. People will let you know when you mess up. So now I'm a tweeter. Well, not really, because I haven't tweeted anything yet. I REtweeted something. But that's different than tweeting...I think. Not sure. I know that I spent one hour just signing up for it instead of working like I should have been. I'll reprimand myself later for it.

So I'm an official tweeter. Yep, got an ID and everything. My tweeter is @LRBlakely. My user name is Linda B. Seemed short enough. It's really hard to come up with these things when you have a name like "Linda". My mother gave me her word that the name wasn't popular back in 1958. But I'm finding out that simply isn't true. Afterall, there IS a Linda convention (or used to be). And there's a "short" convention, too. I qualified for that as well. And back on track...

So, if you are a twitterer? er...tweeter...er? well you'll have to follow me because I have no idea how to begin to follow you. I think I"m going to observe for awhile. The online help for hashtags and tweeting really wasn't that helpful. I have lot's of tweeting friends, perhaps they will decide to jump in and save the day so I can join the ranks of the twitterers around the world. Until then, I'll try and keep in touch via "blogging", another enigma to me.

Whatever happened to the good old telephone, or lunch with a friend?

Geesh!

A Story about the Abuse of Power....

I was recently asked why I have such a distaste for an animal welfare organization in Des Moines, Iowa. It was by a friend, so I know that they were truly seeking an understanding of the situation. They know me well, and know that I take pride in finding both sides of an issue.  I have proven time and time again I'm able to work side by side with those I may disagree as long as we are both focused on the same goals at the end.

I've been told more than once that I have a "passion" for animals. That may be true, but it's not my passion for animals that causes me to speak out for the injustice that is happening to animals inside the animal welfare industry. I don't really care who you support as long as you are doing it knowledgeably. Statistics have proven that marketing and media is a very powerful tool. Too many people believe what they hear without researching the facts. If they would ask more questions, I know they would find the same discrepancies I did, which pulled me towards my advocacy for animals.

Being involved in animal welfare I have learned a great deal, that I never would have known as a single pet owner. I am a responsible pet owner, spay and neuter my pets, regular vet visits, and when that hard day comes, I hold my companions to sleep. Even in the hardest of times, surrendering my companion was never an option. From that perspective I would and did feel that the Animal Rescue League of Iowa was a reputable organization that cares about the animals. I was wrong!

It wasn't until I entered the industry when I realized how deceptive this organization really is, and how manipulative they are at tugging at the heart strings of pet lovers everywhere, professing their love for animals, when in fact, the animal is the last on their list to care for. This is not to say that there are not caring individuals inside the ARL or animal lovers. But the overall philosophy and practices of the ARL are NOT animal loving or even first in animal welfare in my book. Here's just one incident I can share with you from first hand experience...I hope if for nothing else, it opens your eyes that what you 'see' may not be what is by the ARL, and that you research more carefully before offering your support.

One Sunday this pass July, Josh Colvin from the Animal Rescue League of Iowa's Animal Control left a message on RVAS' answering machine regarding a dog, Stuart, that had been picked up by AC. The dog was microchipped and apparently the chip traced back to Raccoon Valley (an adoption prior to my days with the organization). The registered own on the chip did not match the person who was trying to 'claim' the dog from the ARL Animal Control Building. Josh was calling for our PERMISSION to release the dog to this unknown owner. While I appreciated the call for permission...I did not understand the next part.

Despite our repeated efforts and numerous emails and letters to the ARL giving them our emergency number for such cases, especially when we are closed to business, I picked up the message on Monday. I immediately telephoned Josh and told him that we did not want the dog released to an "unknown" owner, and that we would reclaim the dog since it was property of RVAS (the microchip was implanted and owned by RVAS). Josh refused to give us the dog. Apparently he would release it to an unknown entity, but not to a state licensed rescue where the dog's adoption originated? That doesn't make sense.

When questioned about his decision, at first, he stumbled around throwing out the "rules" and "regulations" of the AC department being contracted with the City of Des Moines. When asked what has changed because a couple weeks prior we had no problem having a "cat" released from them that was picked up with a chip that traced back to RVAS. There was no answer. When reminded that we have a contractual agreement between Tom Colvin and RVAS that we would respect each other's adoption contracts and return animals, when proof is available, to each other's organizations. He refused. Despite the many attempts to gain an understanding from Josh what the "new" rules were that he was making up on the spot, he became frustrated and hung up on me with the simple statement, "I"m not releasing the dog to you.!"

Whether his temper tantrum was personal or professional, I must admit that I chuckled at the behavior, even though I was extremely annoyed with his lack of concern for the dogs welfare. This is a man with one of the longest titles in the animal welfare industry, that for some reason, had the need to be in "control" of a situation, he truly had no control over. A simple and quick telephone call to Tom Colvin, Executive Director and Josh's father, explaining the situation prompted immediate release of the dog to RVAS. We then made arrangements for pick up. Needless to say Josh was extremely rude and annoyed that he had been over-ridden.

The mere fact that the dog, remained in the kennel 24 hours longer than it needed to, was released with kennel cough, because it had been there at least 5 days prior to Josh even calling us, and that the AC could not provide any vaccination or medical history upon it's arrival proves that animal care was last on Josh Colvin's or the Animal Control Services priorities.

In this situation, and many others, the ARL has proven time and time again to be uncooperative to those organizations that may not show the type of support they would like. They also have proven they do not know the difference between a "vicious" dog and an 8 lb scared chihuahua, a feral cat or a scared stray, and refuse to work with people they simply "don't like", despite their so-called credentials in the industry. To not be able to put your personal feelings aside for someone for the sake of the animal is more disturbing to me and clearly proves they are not "about" the animals, but instead about personal choices. This type of behavior hardly fits in my book as "professional" or "caring".

The bottom line. The ARL is a family run business, that in fact, has done some great things for animals. But their lack of transparency with their intake numbers, their plea for constant funding without disclosing what it is used for, the staff's high paid salaries, and the proof that animals are not their priority is why I no longer support the Animal Rescue League of Iowa. If animals WERE their priority, then Stuart wouldn't have been residing on a cement kennel, with no water for over 4 hours, and released immediately to the shelter with vaccination records and in good condition, not with kennel cough.

Instead, Stuart's life became at risk, because of one man's inability to deal with someone he doesn't "like". If this is the life-saving decision making that the Animal Control Executive uses than no wonder so many animals are killed in the hands of the ARL's Executives.

And by the way, the contract with the city had nothing to do with the reason Josh held and kept the dog from RVAS. Josh Colvin is known for his inability to work with women and many other shelter and rescue workers have had similar problems working with him. All I can say is that I'm glad that Tom Colvin had the sense to let that dog be released. Stuart has since then found a new home. And the owner that wanted to claim it originally? She inherited the dog after it was abandoned by the original owner. She loved the dog enough to save it's life, and even more to let it go to the right home. Stuart has a new home, where he can run off that high energy, snuggles with his owners and lives happily ever after!

But no person or organization should have to fight this hard for a life, especially when they hold the same credentials as the ARL. There was no excuse for Josh's behavior other than his own perception that he's something bigger than he is. His actions show the consistent abuse of power and control that the ARL uses towards other rescues (and individuals) to place themselves in a more supreme position, all at the cost of an animal's life.

That is just one small reason why I personally am not a supporter of the Animal Rescue League of Iowa. I'm not fearful to speak out about my experience with an organization that makes no effort to make things right or admit when they are wrong. They can not hurt me, nor am I fearful that they may try. The only power the ARL still has are those animals that wind up in their care. If they continue to make life decisions for animals based on what people they like, they will continue to prove my point...and many others...that their concern for animal welfare is, at best, non-existent.

They have had numerous chances to make things right with me and with RVAS. I'm still waiting for an apology from Josh Colvin not only for bring rude, hanging up on me, but for his deceptive reasoning behind the release of Stuart. But I'm not holding my breath to get one....

In the meantime, I will speak out about my personal experience with a man that was unable to handle a situation professionally, instead resorting to rude behavior to justify his lack of respect for me and RVAS. What class!

It's Just Another Day...or Is IT?

Today, I awoke with a smile and the intent that nothing would spoil my day. It's my birthday. I'm 53 today and life is too short not to enjoy it.

I awoke to the cool fall air in my room from the open window, snuggled down under the electric blanket, surrounded by my fuzzy fur-kids. Then I heard a warm and wonderful "Happy Birthday" from Joe with coffee in hand.  Followed was an unsual choral surprise of the Happy Birthday song, by Joe and the Big Black Fuzzy Things! (the dogs)

Then I was informed that a dear friend had passed. An icon...an artistic man who I realized I have known over 30 years. An influential artist who shared his love of the arts with all ages and and supported all levels of talent. A man who believed in people when they didn't believe in themselves. A man, who, 19 years ago contacted me for an audition which he was the director for introducing me to Joe, my partner. The rest is history. His son wrote this on Mike's wall:

It is ironic that a man whose life was so influenced and driven by words cannot truly be described by them. My father lived a life that could fill volumes of books and pages, and he always did his best to share that life with those around him. He understood that we, as human beings, have a duty to one another to share our experiences so that we may educate and impact everything around us. Do not make speeches, rather, live as he lived. Love as he loved. Rest in Peace, Mike Cornelison.

My morning would be filled with sadness of the news of his passing, but rejoice because I was lucky enough to have known him, to have worked with him many times, and though our paths had created distance, was able to still be in contact with him through facebook (and those chance meetings in town).

It reminds me of how deep friendships and connections can affect our lives. I'm a true believer that friends don't have to be in touch everyday. And that our connections with people are influential, in all aspects, and affect  who we are and who become. 

I'm indebted to so many in my life.

To my parents: For my birth. For the sacrifices they made to provide food, shelter and love. To protect me, to comfort me. To allow me to remain a child, for what it seems like forever. And I'm blessed, because a little over 2 years ago my father was fighting for his life....and won! I'm so incredibly lucky to still have both in my life today.

To my brother: An estranged relationship, but proof that family ties are stronger than conflict. I love him despite our differences.

To Relatives: So many. Some very close, others known only through others.  But none the less we are family. And we wish each other well. I have very fond childhood memories with some of my cousins. Forever influenced by our childhood dreams...reunited all too often by death, rather than the celebration of life. But always picking up where we left off.

To my school years: So many classmates that I am still in touch with or have reconnected with. My elementary school days were of a time when the encouragement of children was to do your best not focus on a lifetime career. I don't remember being bullied. Perhaps it wasn't allowed because discipline was. I do remember a mutual respect, and if you mistreated each other, there were repercussions allowed by the teachers, to teach respect and kindness to others. My junior high years, going to a school where I felt I really didn't fit in, but found a place anyway. Trying to make sense of losing a best friend to Leukemia, and realizing years later that most of my teachers gave unselfishly to my education despite the fact that the world wouldn't accept their own life choices. And High School. Where you want independence all the while hanging onto the security of home. College and careers...many, many paths in my life would bring me here today.

To my artistic friends: A time when so many people believed in my talents, when I doubted them myself. Those, like Mike, that allowed me opportunities to reach for the stars, the laughter at the aftershow parties, the fun of the performances and rehearasals and the comradery between people that are built through a common interest. Those who to this day include me in audition notices. Those who still hire me for my talents, those who remember a show we were in together. The connections we made have lasting memories, so many are good.

Friends past and present: Too many connections to mention each and everyone, but I can say this honestly. If we have met, you have touched my life.

Other Connections: However we have been brought together, through common interests, we have connected. And I'm grateful. I've made many wonderful friends online, that I have never met face to face, but have shared my inner most thoughts with.

And last but not least to Joe. For the journey. A roller coaster of ups and downs, but always a wild and exciting ride. A true blessing to find a soul mate that you can disagree with but still have a ton of love for. Through all of our years, he is the reason I am able to share my thoughts today. A writer, a philosopher, and a history buff, Joe has always believed in me...

I have made great and lasting friendships over the years. I'm 53 today, and my life is incredibly blessed. I have a choice to focus on the sadness of those who have left my life too soon, or the choice to rejoice in the memories they have given me. I choose the memories. For not to have them in my life at all, would be the tragedy! And I treasure those that are here today, and wanted to let each and every one of you know, that I think of you. I thank you, even if we don't speak often, you are in my life...and I'm a better person because of it.

Thank you everyone, from the bottom of my heart, for your love, your kindness, your patience, your support, your thoughts and prayers, even the Kick in the butt when I needed it. Thank you for making this year, the most blessed one of all!

Blogging...What's That?

A blog. Something new.

At my age "new" most often means changing a way of doing things that I've done one way for a number of years. I'm not afraid of trying new things. I like variety. But some of this technological stuff, especially that which is "user friendly" is simply not my friend. It's as if I'm learning a third language. Unfortunately, there is no tutor on this one...so bear with me, while I learn all about "blogging".

I have figured out how to sign in. That's a good start. I also figured out how to write a post. This is a post. Since I know that now, I suppose I've stepped up one step and can be a teacher to a beginning blogger, right?

The next step is to publish the post and then share it with my friends. The "help" tab is pretty good, at least for a new blogger like me. It says I'll need some "followers". That should be easy right? I'm a natural leader. I'm supposed to "share" the blog, however, and that I haven't quite figured out. I do know how to cut and paste, so perhaps I can snag the link, and drop it in an email to everyone.

Seems silly to me. If I can do that, why don't I just write today's thoughts in an email and send it off?

Blogging, tweeting, facebooking...all social networking. Crazy titles though, don't you think? Blogging sounds like I'm sloppy and lazy. Tweeting or Twittering. Incredibly foul to me. Get it? Ok...so my humor isn't so great today. I tried, right?

So...with all that said, here is my new blog. I hope you will all follow me, or join me. I'll share my thoughts, my life...maybe...when I can...hopefully this won't be my last blog. But if it is...I can officially say, "yea..I've blogged before.."

Whatever works!