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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Tuesday, December 09, 2014

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Quirk Alert

Gladys is either a wannabe hunter or nurturer. Not sure which. She routinely disappears into a different room and we'll hear whining. The first few times I took her out to go potty. But then we figured out it was part of her gathering behavior. She attempts to collect all of her toys in one trip. She scoops everything into her mouth, whining until it's full and then trots happily back into the room with us. 

She doesn't rip her toys to shreds, even though she and Gertie do remove the stuffing because that's fun to play with. Oh, and the squeakers, those get excised as well. 

Here is Gladys's proud catch of the day. A record of three items, one of which is the rubber bone. She's got a personal goal of adding the brown owl/monkey toy and the skinned shark to her personal best.  

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