Yes, you read that right. Sofie Sparkle Dec. She weighs about 2 1/2 pounds dripping wet. She is a cockapoo. She is seven weeks old and she is currently trying to lick hand lotion off my knee as I type.

Sweet dreams…

I’m baaaack!  It happened at first by accident, then on purpose. I needed a little blog vacation and actual vacation. I’m back from both.

We’ve just returned from Higgins Lake. It’s just north of Houghton Lake. My husband used to camp there with his family 25+ years ago and he wanted to go back (but in a cabin with lights and plumbing…Robin doesn’t do camping…but that’s a blog post for another day).

Let me just say, if you have little kids with any sort of water phobia (or are a parent with little kids who don’t have a water phobia but you are pone to water/kid related panick attacks…ahem…like me) Higgins Lake is the place to go.  No seaweed. Crystal clear water with a white sand bottom as far as you can see. At our particular cabin, the water was no more than 3 feet deep for nearly 1/2 mile from shore. Mahvelous!

I’m standing in waist-deep water here.

Our friend visited with his son for part of the week. Jim posed them for this one (after he and I got in a debate about how to line ‘em up…it’s see evil, hear no evil, speak no evil right???)

A rare moment of sibling tranquility.

And here’s one for your Monday Morning Mental Health Break. Ahhhhhh.

Hopefully, we’ll make it back there someday

Robin

The search is over. We have a winner. She comes home in 1 month. Feast your eyes.

She’s (currently) a two week old Cockapoo. She’s very snuggly and smells nice. I wuv her and will be fighting the kids to hold her (yay for me…I’m way bigger and can knock them over if I need to ;)  )

I am now taking suggestions for names. We have a big white board in the kitchen. Any ideas?

Guess what this is???

Story developing…

While clearing out his Grandpa’s attic, my husband came across boxes of old pictures, yearbooks, trophies etc. Basically, a 1980’s time capsule. One item I found particularly telling. This is a birthday card I gave him, probably when he turned 17 or 18 (which would put me at the same age).

Okay…fine so far. Then you open it.

No truer words have ever been spoken. Yay me for knowing who I am at 17

Lemme just say, I love Paint Shop Pro.  A few months ago I realized I hated the photos on my blog. They were blah. I’ve said numerous times I don’t/can’t scrapbook. I blog. Anyway…I went on ebay and purchased for about $18 with shipping an older version of Paint Shop Pro. I have version 9. Did I mention I luuuurve it?  I know Photoshop may be the work horse of amateur photo editing, but it’s too confusing for me. It must involve math.

Last week I posted a tribute to my Grandfather. To complete it, I broke in to my parents home while they were on vacation and stole a picture of said Grandfather. Though lovingly framed, the thing was in pretty bad shape. 60+ years can do that to a photograph. It was badly creased, washed out and covered in old tape glue.

Here’s what I started with:

Here’s the finished product.

Ta da! I live to impress/amuse myself

P.S. Er…um…you don’t want to know how much time I wasted spent doing this. Heh heh.

I found him like this. He watched for 20 minutes. There you go.

It’s getting down to the wire. Jim wants to get a puppy in August. That’s like FIVE WEEKS! I think I may have zeroed in on a breed. My stipulation (if you recall) was that it be medium to small in size and low-shedding. I’m thinking perhaps a Cockapoo. We had one when I was a kid (er…um…until my mother sold it to some “farmers”). We like Winnie, my mom’s bichon frise, but like our carpets, we need a dog that doesn’t show dirt as much.

Meanwhile, Jim found this picture. This is Buckwheat, his childhood dog. She apparently followed him home one day and the rest became the stuff of legend. She was fierce, loyal, protective, worked on a cure for cancer or something…

I have no idea what kind of dog she was, clearly a terrier mix I’m thinking.

I’ve gotten addicted to Petfinder. My only concern with a lot of these shelter dogs is that many of them were rescued from puppy mills. I’m afraid of puppy mill dogs. If anyone can disabuse me of my fear, I’d be happy to listen.

Also, if anybody knows anyone who will have cockapoos available in August…

I believe, all of our grandfather’s who served in WWII were heroes….every single one of them. But some mens’ wars were harder than others. I believe my grandfather’s was one of the hardest of all.

He was a pilot. He flew “The Hump.” His name was Robert Lloyd Gorrell and he would have been 87 this month.

Like all of my grandparents, Grandpa Gorrell was born and raised in Toledo. He and my grandmother (Ellen Matthews) were childhood sweethearts. I believe they were the loves of each others lives. Cliche as that is, in their case it was true. Grandpa had good taste. This picture was taken when they were teenagers. (I totally think I inherited her smirk.)

I don’t know what his plans were, but like millions they were waylaid after December 7, 1941. My grandfather enlisted in the Army Air Corps (before there was an Air Force) and was soon sent on one of the most dangerous missions of the war.

In  May of 1942, the Japanese cut off land supply routes to  China. In response, the U.S. organized the largest strategic air bridge in the world. The airbridge became the “road of life” for the people of China as pilots transported critical food and supplies to them. The air bridge became known as “The Hump” because the pilots flew a hump-shaped path over the Himalayan mountains.

The casualties were staggeringly high. On each trip, pilots faced treacherous terrain, bad weather, equipment failures and attacks from enemy fighters. The group lost as much as half of the aircraft flying. Often times, crews were given the horrific task of flying in to retrieve debris from previous crashes so they could use the parts to repair the remaining planes in the fleet. The debris must surely have included their brothers who didn’t make it out alive. And the next day, they were up flying the same route that claimed their friends. And the day after that.

Understandably, after my grandpa came home, he never wanted to fly again. He lived with PTSD decades before it was recognized as such. He and Grandma had four children of whom my dad is the oldest and named after him. Grandpa ran Gorrell Cleaners with his older brother, Uncle Chuck (who turned 95 this year!). Every now and again, I’ll run into someone who remembers our family dry cleaning business and it makes me smile.

I regret that I didn’t get to know Grandpa Gorrell as an adult. I have mostly childhood memories of him.  He died right after I turned 18 but I was a normal, self-absorbed teenager then. I remember he was smart and wickedly funny (jokes I cannot repeat here) and pretty much drove everyone nuts. He had great love for all of us which he sometimes didn’t know how to show. When he did, it was fierce and memorable like the time he marched into my Dad’s elementary school to stick up for him against his teacher (at a time I’m sure most dads never thought of such a thing). I know he was immensely proud of my sister and me. I know that if he were alive today, there probably wouldn’t be a house in Lincolnshire who didn’t know when my sister’s show was on or that his Other Grandaughter is a lawyer (and we would both roll our eyes everytime…in fact I did just now as I typed it). He was fiercely proud of all of his grandkids. Some of them were too little to remember, but I do and will forever. Ask me anytime Scott, Jeff, Emily, Steve, Ellen or Katie. I will tell you.

I miss you Grandpa and I love you too. Happy birthday.

 ”Hump” Links

http://www.enquirer.com/editions/2000/09/08/loc_hump_crews_tell_of.html

http://www.sinoam.com/USAAF_HUMP_AIRLIFT_OPERATION.htm

http://www.humppilots.com/

Big changes afoot in my household. Baby teeth are making way for big teeth, training wheels for two-wheelers. And I may have to officially turn in my Soccer Mom membership card. It was time. With gas prices at eleventy dollars a gallon and me with a nearly 100 mile round trip commute, something had to give.

Sooo… we’ve gone from this… 

To this…

Ta da!!! Take THAT Saudi Arabia!