My Easter

As you probably know, today is Easter. It’s the day we use to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection. If you believe that, that is. If you don’t, you can still get the candy!
I spent my Easter with my (hopefully) future family. My boyfriend’s aunt and uncle, both sets of grandparents, his cousin and her kids, his parents, and of course all the dogs.
Being a dog groomer, I have learned to take my box of supplies with me whenever I go to family functions. I always get asked if I can do nails. Always. It’s bad enough I sometimes feel like I should have a spare dremal and pair of clippers in my car at all times.
Today, I got to take off a couple of inches of a long/wire haired dashound named penny. Since I don’t have a grooming table, she didn’t turn out nearly as cute as she could have. But her momma loved her! Goodness, that dog is a squirmy butt!

Of course, I didn’t groom dogs all day. I played with the kids and watched them search for Easter eggs in the pouring rain. It was such a relaxing day! I love my second family.

“Trash bag” game video coming soon!

What did you guys do for Easter? Did you eat yourself sick like I probably will later?


Home Is Where the Heart Is

I used to be what I considered a kind of hermit. I didn’t like people, and would hardly leave my room for much of anything. Even food was often forgotten. Looking back, I think it was some kind of teenage phase. Now, it’s quite strange to be able to stand people and occasionally¬†want to go see them.

I used to think that nowhere else could be like the home I grew up in. That nowhere else would make me feel nearly as safe and protected. Then the divorce hit my family like a bunch of trolls storming the house and I learned a lot about what makes a house a home.

The saying ‘home is where the heart is’ is definitely true. I feel safe whenever I’m with the one I call my heart. It doesn’t matter where it is. The only physical place that I consider home though, is my car. Perhaps that’s because it’s actually mine and I know I won’t lose it. (Knock on wood!)

I have learned that home is not a ¬†physical place anyway. Humans have an instinct to begin their own families. It’s okay for the home you grow up in to no longer feel like home. It’s part of growing up, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.