Biopsies and Buggers

This weekend I had dinner with some girl friends in Atlanta.  It was a wonderful escape from worrying about cancer, divorce, and poverty.  All the women there had had similar experiences and troubles and they were all still alive and laughing about it. There was a precious dog there and before long we began to talk about our pets and stories about them.  One friend reminded me of my brother's dog, Bugger.  She had pet sat for him on an occasion and loved the dog and his name. It didn't take much to get me talking about Bugger stories.  Bugger was just a big ole' sweet yellow lab that wondered up one day, half starved and smelling, and moved right into my brother's heart and home.  I had never known of a dog with that name and when I saw Bugger the first time, I remarked on his fine form and sweet disposition, but couldn't understand how the name fit the mutt.  When asked about the name and the reason for it, my brother replied that he'd always wanted a dog named Bugger and that when someone would come over and say "Hey, is that your dog Bugger?"  His answer would be "No, its s'not".  My family.  Bugger had run of the house and pretty much became at times the center of my brother's attention, always loving companion and passenger side window rider when possible.  Bugger was spoiled and loved as much as any dog but over the years, Bugger's early neglect took a toll on his heath and finally his sight failed him.  Bugger became, Blind Bugger.  My brother though always the funny man, decided Bugger needed a Seeing Eye Dog to solve his problems with sight. At other times, dark glasses and a cane were discussed.  While none of that  happened it did make for lots of stories over the years when Bugger no longer could see s'not.  Bugger's wonderful disposition followed him through his trials and when he ran into the wall, off the porch, into the lake or whatever, he just got back up, shook it off and started off again.  Bugger lived up to his reputation as just a sweet ole' dog. Faithful and calm through all the difficulties that came his way.  This week I am determined to be brave about my biopsy, poverty and broken heart. Its s'not what I wanted but its what I got and I will do my best to find the punch line in my trials just like that good ole' dog.  I will pay the $l400 medical bill and not cuss Blue Cross, I will not swear at the county because the property taxes are due, I will not cry that two tires had to be replaced, and I will make the best of having a cold.  I may fall off the porch but I will shake it off, lick my wounds and keep moving. I will try to be a real Bugger about the whole thing.

Happening Along Hwy 5l5, More of the Same

Please don't think from that title that nothing is happening here in the Mountains.  Just believe me, its more of the same. That isn't all bad, its just, more of the same.  Last weekend was beautiful and I was included in a Pumpkin Patch adventure with my sweet grandsons.  The sky was blue and the air had that crispness that comes with Autumn. Every small farm in the North Georgia Mountains has decided to turn a buck by turning their working farms into a corn maze and a pumpkin vending machine.  The tractors have found a new life by pulling screaming children around in a wagon. The farm animals are now a "petting zoo".  Still nothing takes the place of the beautiful scenery.   The leaves are beginning to turn and fall festivals are all over the North Georgia Mountains.  Ellijay has had its last weekend of the Apple Festival and Blue Ridge has had its Arts in the Park.  This next weekend will be Marietta's Arts and Craft Show on the Square.  My daughter and I will set up and sell our wares.  She crochets the most darling children's hats and shoes and I will pretend to be an artist and sell my little paintings. But today it is more rain and the deer ate my pumpkin on the front porch. (Well, actually they just knocked it down the street and ran after it like curious children until it hit a tree and broke open. Then they ate it. ) My sister lives in Texas and I know I should be grateful for the rain but my house is beginning to have green slime on it and I truly think blue skies would help my disposition so I am complaining.  Tomorrow I have a biopsy on my breast.  I am not scared but all women who go through this will admit, its concerning. I am not good at asking for help.  In fact, I am just terrible at it.  You all know I bear my soul, but its in this totally impersonal way.  Its not with a phone call and tears.  It is instead with this totally unconnected way of writing about my trials and tribulations in a blog.  An avenue that allows you to have semi-relationships with people whom you don't know, will never meet and who will not attend your funeral.  But in times like these when l in 5 relationships begin on the internet and the only men who flirt with me are nameless and possibly 89, it seems fitting that I ask all of you to remember me in your prayers.  I will let you know the results and I will tell you about the Craft Show, but more importantly I will say thank you for reading my blog and helping me feel less isolated in this beautiful wilderness.

Happening Along Hwy 5l5

And a good time was had by all.   I'm sorry but I really can't think of anything good to say about the Pickens County Marble Festival.  No, that's completely true.  The food was great.  If you didn't die from the fried Oreos, Twinkies and apple dumplings, you might have from the fried corn or the the fried pies or the fried okra.  There were also fried hamburgers, fried turkey burgers and french fries.  I ate gumbo. Not because I am that health conscious but just because I like it and it was actually very good. Reminded me of the Cajun cooking in Fairhope. The rest as they say is history.  I bought nothing, won nothing and didn't care.  I saw plenty of Santa look-a-likes and many of his brothers.  Mostly with Mrs. Santa but sometimes with their Hogs. As in Harley.  Needless to say, I did not meet Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now, not even Mr. One Night Might Be All Right.  PAR, Pickens Animal Rescue, did have a couple of adoptions and made more people aware that we are out there trying to help in a situation that seems almost hopeless. I have never seen people who try so hard and care so much.  Now everything in Jasper is covered in pink in Honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Pink ribbons on cars, doors, windows and even hats.  In celebration of the occasion, I am having my Annual Breast Cancer Scare Event.  A mammogram followed by a phone call that scares me to death, telling me I have to get a biopsy which will cost me money I don't have, for a test I don't want, for an illness I don't need.  I don't think women in this country need a month of pink to make them aware of Breast Cancer.  Everyone I know has either had it or been scared to death by a radiologist somewhere that wants to make sure they don't have it.  But in case you have neglected to honor this month, and need to, go get your mammogram and take your medicine so that we are all here next year for the next Marble Festival. Mammograms....a good time was had by all.