i’m sorry, i just don’t know

My sweet Jasper Dog died on July 4th. Jasper was an Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix with the sweetest temperament possible. Jasper had a freckle belly, golden eyes, and a paw shake that could knock me over. Her best (and pretty much only) trick was shutting the back door… a trick we taught her because we got sick of getting up from the TV to close the door after she’d been outside. She knew the words “toy”, “trip”, “dinner”, “get down”, “Jasper”, and “Jolee”. Jasper’s breed are herders, and she could stop just about anything that moved… cows, soccer balls, you name it.

Rob called her “frog” because her perpetual happy pant left her tongue continuously drooping. Jasper was high energy so we got her a companion dog, Jolee. The two of them romped and played whenever they weren’t piled together napping. She would curl up at my feet every night, causing me to sleep in an awkward crouch, and shake her collar a million times in the morning to get me to wake up. After waking me, she’d lay on my lap (not a small dog, mind you) to get some attention and love before being fed.

If it wasn’t for Jasper, we probably would never have thought to move deeper into the country. She helped me break away from suburban life and plant myself firmly in the country. I am sad she will never get to herd the goats we intend to raise after moving.

She knew when I was sad. When I was home, she never left my side. She’d follow me from room to room thinking something exciting was about to happen. Jolee never did that until now…she was always content to stay on the couch or bed watching us. Now she follows me too. I haven’t been able to put her down. I can’t tell who is more clingy…Me or Jolee I had to put her down to go to church yesterday and it just about killed me. It was the first time she’d ever been alone.

I love my Jasper Dog and will miss her every day. We hope to find a new doggie soon. It’s just way too quiet around here.

Jasper was a year and a half old. She and Jolee were out in the Cutler Marsh, romping and playing. She’d just been swimming in the canal and was chasing the truck, one of her favorite things to do when she got caught under the wheel. She died instantly. She was buried under a cottonwood tree in a place where two rivers meet. She will always be the doggie I love the most.

Well, I’m finally back in Utrecht after a week in the Cinco Terra.  As we left the coast of Italy, I noticed something about how my mom and I are different.  On a slow train from Vernazza to Genova, my mom pointed out all of the ancient castles on the hills.  I was more interested in the bamboo.  I grows wild with the fig and olive trees.  I’m no naturalist, but I’d bet my right pinky finger that bamboo isn’t indigenous to that area.  It must have been brought over from traders to the Orient, perhaps at the time that Columbus was planning his voyage over the sea.  Those plants drew my mind back over the ages in ways that my mom’s castles didn’t.  I wonder why that is?  Maybe I identify more easily with the transient, nomadic plants.

So we arrived in Utrecht yesterday after 4 train rides, 2 metro rides, 3 buses and a plane.  I did my best to enjoy the journey so I wouldn’t be cranky… but really, it was a long way to go to still be in the same time zone.  We traveled 14 hours, and then were finally led to our lovely hotel in Utrecht.

Mom is off saving the world… she fould a tiny LDS branch in a town about 15 miles from here.  She wanted me to get up at 6 so I could go with her on a train, a bus, and then a 2 mile walk over the river and through the woods to try to find the church building.  This being Sunday, a day of rest, I declined, slept in, and read scriptures for an hour or so when I got up.  I’m going to start working on the article I have due at the end of this month and to lay on the beach later.

Tonight mom and I have reservations at this restaurant built into the remains of a castle on a cliff.  That will be a perfect ending to our trip to Vernazza.  We’re back to Holland tomorrow, with a stop in Milan (of course) because Mom wants to see the opera house.  She’s been really good about moving at my pace for the last week, so I figure I can induldge her the run around Milan.  There is a place where you can pay to store bags in the train station there, so it’s not bad at all.

We found the Madonna di Reggio Drignana today. Yesterday I bought an inexpensive necklace made by a local artist with a picture of her on it, and the shop girl said that this particular Madonna is very precious to the people of Vernazza. So, Mom and I set off to find her. Our landlady, Patrizia told us that to find her, we should go to the Pirate bar, then go “up and up and up” so we did. We walked for two hours. Uphill… past the clock tower, past the cemetery, until the road turned into an ancient path made from large cobblestones. Switchbacks led us through olive trees, fig trees, passion fruit, raspberries, and flowers galore. It was beautiful. and steep. and steep. and steep. At every curve of the trail, there was a small shrine with a marble carving of different scenes from the life of Christ. The views were spectacular, of course… the amazing vineyards on the sides of the mountains that ran to the sheer cliffs into the ocean. Specatular views and sweat dripping down my back. I could even feel sweat on the backs of my knees. Remind me to start taking long walks before I take another one of these trips with my mom.

And then… we turned the corner and ta da… the large shrine. A smallish building about 15 x 15 ft with plaster peeling from the walls. On the alter was a statue of some religious guy. He looked like a pope that had been sainted or some other important person… but no Madonna. And then I looked more closely… there was a picture above him. The picture was a drawing of the tiny room, complete with the guy. In that picture, above the saintly man was a teeny tiny picture of Mary holding a little baby Jesus (to quote Ricky Bobby). It was probably 3 inches square. The gate into the shrine was locked, so we had a hard time seeing her, but there she was. Little teeny tiny Mary and baby. A bit of a let down at first, to be honest. But then Mom and I just laughed and laughed. Will post pics when I get home.

So if you ever want to walk straight uphill for hours to see a teeny tiny Mary, let me know. I’ll point the way. Probably won’t go with you… but I can tell you how to get there.

After that, we spent the afternoon by the beach, then hopped on a train to Monterosso where they have a black and white striped church, and an Oratorio of the Dead… In the Oratorio, there are choir seats with skeletons in shrouds carved on them. It’s a bit creepy, but cool. I was going to buy a pretty tablecloth at a shop nearby, but a German lady busted in in front of me and grabbed it before I could. I have got to learn to be more aggressive shopping around here

[Personal post] So Rob and I have sold our house and are moving a couple of miles west of where we are now. We are currently in a subdivision and it has recently become a bit cramped. So here are the reasons why I’ll never be seduced by the “prettiness” of a subdivision again…

There are a number of retired couples in our subdivision. Most are kind and pleasant, but one or two just cause trouble. With the covenants in hand, our neighbor who my husband calls “Ebenezer” has called the police on us for having our truck bed 1 foot over the sidewalk. In his words “I like to use the sidewalk.” This same guy has complained to Animal Control that our dogs were in the park without a leash. The park is the reason we bought the place… open green space where we can let our dogs romp. And finally, the covenants explicitly state that I’m not allowed to have farm animals… no goats or chickens allowed. Brutal. Add that to the guilt I feel about the deagriculturalization that is happening in Cache Valley because of development and I’m done. When it was just the guilt, I could repress my feelings, but once you threaten to put down my dog because it’s off a leash, I’m outie.

So, although at one time in my life I saw myself living in urban areas for the rest of my living days, I’m going to become a farmgirl. We are moving to a place with over an acre of land surrounded on 2 sides by hay fields. We’re going to get goats (I think I want some Nigerian Dwarf Goats… they are sweet natured, good milkers, and good breeders. Leslie lady, if you want to make soap from my goat milk, call me) and chickens. Think about it… a chicken is one of the only pets/animals you can have that will give you something concrete and nourishing every day. I love fresh eggs. My border collie/australian shepherd mix who is going crazy in our teeny tiny back yard will finally get to herd- something she was bred to do. Our little rat dog mutt who thinks she is the boss of anything living will get a lesson or two from a head-butting billy goat. I may even get a horse in a year or two. Our new place has a 3 stall barn and shed where we can put all the animals I’ll ever need to keep myself from going crazy working from home

And the coup d’etat… The garage is extra wide and extra long so Rob’s work truck can fit. We’ll have storage galore, and will have plenty of room for dogs to romp and (eventually) kids to grow.

Matthew Buckley’s most recent book, The SuperTrio is up online.  Listen to each chapter with your little ones while you clean the house or just when you are supposed to be listening in a workshop (like I should be doing now…headphones are easy to hide with long hair).  Rock and roll Elder Jensen.

Personal post (sorry everyone who follows me for my brilliant analysis of whatever shows up on my radar).   We’ve just welcomed a new addition to our family.  Jolee was a stray, we have no idea what kind of dog she is.  She has some schnauzer, in the face, but her legs are longer and skinnier, and her body is shaped like a mini gray hound.  Whatever she is, she’s sweet and non-yippy.  She and Jasper play and then collapse and play and collapse all day.

My nephew Justin was a pirate for Halloween. He’s on the road to stardom, I tell you.  And I couldn’t for the life of me get this to display in my blog, so you’ll just have to click through to my family blog… link

Last weekend Rob (my handsome husband) organized a group of volunteers to do a wetlands delineation project for Ann and John Ribera.  It made the front page of the local newspaper!  link

Pictures coming soon to my flickr account.  Congratulations Rob!!

I now know what it feels like to have a whole herd of cattle coming at me. My husband, Rob taught me to just stand there with my arms out and “be a wall.” So when the mass of fur and hooves unexpectedly turned to me, I stood there thinking “I’m a wall.” And you know what… they all stopped and stared at me. It was something else. We were out in the Cutler Marsh so the view was spectacular and the weather couldn’t have been nicer, as long as you didn’t look down.

Jasper, our dog, had a grand time. She stayed pretty close to me, but she did bark and move them along a bit. Later she dove head first into a cow wallow (a term I was just taught). It’s the mucky pool that a cow makes when they want to cool off and wallow. This one was on the bank of a canal on the edge of the pasture. She came out filthy and as happy as I’ve ever seen her. My response to her wallow experience was dissimilar. Thankfully, I have a wonderful husband who cleaned her off once we got home.