Laurel Fork

When you move away it’s always hard to pick and choose what events warrant a six-hour round trip and someone always thinks you should’ve come home when you didn’t. Birthdays, church homecomings, reunions, weddings, etc. As we’ve gotten older and busier we go home less but we try to choose those prime events where we can see the most people and get the most bang for our buck. Some holidays win out over others.

For us, Christmas has always been the constant. We’ve never skipped it. My mom’s entire family is always in Pound for the holiday and both of my dad’s brothers along with their closest cousins are there too. One Christmas, as often happens during holidays, my dad started romanticizing his younger days. His brothers and cousins soon joined in waxing poetic about the Laurel Fork trail near the Pound dam. They hadn’t been up there in years and truth be told it’s entirely possible that not a one of them had ever been there sober. The days when they ran through the hollers and trails of southwestern Virginia were long gone. They got it in their head that come spring when they were all back in town for Easter they’d get on that trail again.

The cold months passed and April arrived, cooler than expected. Easter was never a given for us, we remained non-committal until the last possible minute and always made a game-time decision. This particular year we packed up the dogs in the Subaru drove South on I-81 until we reached Abingdon where the dogs know it’s time to lay down because nothing but curves lay ahead for the next hour while we trekked as far as one can go into southwestern Virginia.  The Pound. 

My husband went ready to hit Laurel Fork with both dogs and some of my dad's family. When it came time to put their money where their mouth was only one of my dad’s cousins and my husband were going to make the trek. These men had hunted, fished, camped and carried on in places like these and maybe they didn’t want to relive it.

I had, personally, never been on the Laurel Fork trail and were it not for the events that transpired that Easter weekend I likely never would have. After not hearing from the husband for several hours I knew something was up and when I called he informed me he'd lost one of the dogs. 

Our Dolly is a rescue who had been a part of our family for only a few months. She’s part hound and part demon, her heightened energy and penchant for whining make her a lot of work. Word soon spread through our tiny town and when family members learned that the closest thing I’ll ever have to a child was missing in the woods it didn’t take long before they rallied to me. Relatives showed up in droves, some of them simply to sit in my car while I cried and threatened to divorce my husband if we didn’t find her.

My dad hiked up on one trail and his brother, Tim, drove up and to walk back down in from the other side. For hours we all traversed the trails and former trails of Pine Mountain. Night fell and still no Dolly. Cut to resurrection morning and my family in the woods calling for a dog instead of at the sunrise service. After a break for Easter dinner, night fell and still no Dolly.

Monday morning held a happy ending for us and Dolly. She'd had her fun and waited to be found in the parking lot at the Laurel Fork trail. Still wearing her hiking backpack and a bit worse for the wear she was ready to go home. 

I like to believe her antics were a ploy to get my daddy and his brother in those woods again but maybe she is just ornery. 

Januaryness

I haven't been out of the house since Thursday evening. If you're counting that is 60some odd hours. I mean, I've been outside but I haven't been out of the yard. Instead I've been bringing the outside in....

I made a video of this experience as well and you can hear Drew complaining in the background. It sounds something like: "There's chickens in the house. They're gonna shit everywhere." And as you can see he was right. Adele did not disappoint. How many of you can say Adele has taken a dump in your kitchen? That's what I thought.

There was a lot of hype about this snow, they were calling for 2+ feet and we barely got a foot. I'm a bit bitter. I was banking on being out of school this whole week and now I'm terrified we are going to go back tomorrow. Not that I don't love my job but I've only finished one book and I haven't even started House of Cards yet.

But our days snowed in together haven't been completely unfruitful. I've read our fortunes. Watched Meet the Patels on Netflix. Filled up bird feeders every hour. Napped. Skyped with our friends in Kenya. Baked bread. Kept the fire roaring. Discussed travel plans and settling down in Floyd (Drew says "It's time we become adults"). Drank warm beverages.Cooked together. Dreamt of what we will plant once it's warm. And snuggled with our pups.

I hope you all have been just as unproductive as us on these snow days. Enjoy the last little bit of it. 

Skunked

We co-lead a small group with another couple which means every other Tuesday night there are about 10 people in our living room talking about marriage, Jesus, hurt, and healing. And eating cake. Last night was like any other small group night, I had let Ike outside because he was too excited for all of the company.

This is pre-skunk. Being his regular ol' cute self yesterday afternoon.

As I started through the kitchen to let him back in I could smell it through the wall of the house: skunk. I opened the door to smell him and before I could he took off into the living room (where our guests didn't know what hit them). So just like that the smell spread from the patio outside through the kitchen and into the living room. Then as Drew drug him back through the kitchen and into the bathroom.

Needless to say we slept with our windows open last night. I gave him about 3 baths while small group finished up and he turned absolutely pitiful. I face-timed with my family and while he normally is right in front of the phone trying to get to them, he ran away. Ashamed I presume.

Then he started shaking. I'm hoping it's because he was still wet and we had all of the windows open. So I put the poor little guy to bed and covered him up. He seems to have recovered last night, but my guess is he'd like to get ahold of that little %!#@* today. I know I would.

And post-skunk. His behavior eerily reminded me of how he acted after he had his balls chopped off. Poor guy.

Motherhood

Disclaimer: If you don't own a dog or love dogs, then please don't read this post. You will not understand and it will likely freak you out. Because I'm about to gush.

Today we celebrated Ike's birthday. Technically, he is 2 (we think) but we are just celebrating our first year with him. We actually don't know his technical birthday and the anniversary of the day we got him was actually a couple of weeks ago. But things have been a little hectic around here we wanted to catch Ike off guard so we had an impromptu party tonight!

I stopped by our awesome pet store in town today to pick up some toys and knee caps for my little man and decided today would be a great day to celebrate. His gifts included: a duck, a raccoon, a kong filled with peanut butter and of course the knee caps. Oh and we had cake!

I added his name in chocolate chips myself.

Ike enjoyed a good portion of the icing and a small slice of cake. Along with some chicken pot pie out of the garbage to top it all off. All in all, I'd say he's had a good day.

You know how people dedicate certain blog posts to their children, especially on their birthdays. It's kind of cool actually; their kids can read it one day as a love letter to them. Well that's my approach to this post for Ike. I spent the better part of my phone convo with my sister today trying to convince her that we have no proof at all that dogs can't read. So for you dear Ikey, my stinka....

The gushing: I love this little guy so much. He is the light of my life. I will argue with anyone who would tell me that I could love a kid more. I don't think it's possible. He is so loving and sweet. He never gets mad at me, even when I am gone all day. He is the best cuddle buddy. Oh and he's brilliant. He plays with himself and entertains Drew and I both constantly. He always greets me at the door, jumping as high as he can because he's excited to see me. He's a mama's boy and doesn't listen to a word his daddy says. He loves people. We go to the dog park and he wants to say hi to every being on 2 legs there. He's an attention hog and loves to be petted. He likes to chew on sticks and water bottles. He loves scrambled eggs and waffles. He sighs so contently when Drew and I are both finally home and sitting on the couch. He stays right by my side and never has to be leashed or tied up. He would sun-bathe on the patio all day if I would let him. He has more personality than most people I know. He winks at me. If this sweet baby didn't shed I would not hesitate in calling him perfect.

God knew what he was doing when he told us to go to the shelter that day. He has been the biggest blessing to both of us. Even as I sit here and type he got up out of bed to come sit up with me.

What a sweet boy. And P.S. in case you were wondering I do not think he is ugly. There have been some misconceptions about this. I think he is the most handsome puppy I know. And if you feel the need to tell me he's ugly, then after this post you should know how I will feel about you.

Hallelujah and amen.

Also Ike requested I give a shout-out to his favorite aunt, Salty dog.