iJules

Sunday Scribblings-Simple

I will tell you what is not simple and that is getting a small dog across the ocean. It seemed to be when I first considered it, you put the pup in a bag, shove it under the seat and voila. Dutch Dog. Apparantly not. I grew up on airplanes taking my first flight at six weeks old. We were a jetsetting family, always flying here or there. My grandfather was an original founder of one of the major American airlines so it was natural. Back when I was a child taking a flight was an occassion. Men wore ties and ladies dressed up. </p>

<p>I always fly British Airways. They usually have the best prices and know how to treat a person. However Miss Em will not be flying British Airways. The UK does not allow pets to enter the country in the cabin, they must fly as cargo. I considered checking her at first but I really could not get a firm answer on how this would go since I change planes at Gatwick. No one could confirm how Emma would be transferred from plane A to plane B for the hop over to Schiphol. I worried about this on several levels. There were the horror stories of pets escaping and running off onto the tarmac or the great unknown. There is the unhappy thought of other people mishandling my spoiled baby and then there was the bigger fear that she would just go missing. I know everyone thinks their dog is the first one ever born but Ems is quite special to me and also can be a very expensive dog to purchase. With the current craze of purse pups and the ridiculous prices people pay for a 2 kilo dog (even though I did not) that seems to be a valid concern for me.</p>

<p>So I began searching for an alternative. KLM seemed to be the logical choice as that is the Royal Dutch Airlines. I called back in February to set it all up and was told that Schiphol also did not permit pets to arrive in the cabin, knocking the wind from my sails. I thought this was odd as Dutch people take their dogs everywhere and they are all over the airport, shopping malls, cafes and small shops.&nbsp; It just did not seem right to me so a month ago I called again and the agent at KLM told me that was absurd, dogs fly KLM in the cabin routinely and I must have misunderstood. uh no, I understood perfectly, I was misinformed. At any rate we are now booked on a flight to Schiphol via Memphis in July. Now the paperwork begins.</p>

Sunday Scribblings-Inspiration

This week's Sunday Scribblings is Inspiration. I find it in the weirdest places, usually a sound or a smell will trigger something that inspires me to write. I have dozens of unfinished posts tucked away that are based on a small inspiration and when they bloom into a real thought I will finish them. My life is changing now and I am finding great inspiration from dreams that I pushed aside and people who love me. Real love, you know that trade my life for yours, I would shrivel up and die if you don't love me back kind of love. Not the I need somebody and oh well, you are here so you will do sort of love.

Reading Sam's post about Grey's this morning reminded me how much that show has changed my life. I can't talk about that particular episode because a lot of you aren't as far along as I am and I would never dream of spoiling a single second for anyone. The show is a gift. Truly a gift to girls like me who want and need and forget sometimes what is important. There is a healing that comes from curling up all alone in my dark living room with my big soft afghan knitted by my dead stepdad's mother and crying my heart out; my tiny Yorkie curled up on my shoulder occassionally giving me a little reassuring lick on the ear then tumbling confused and annoyed to the sofa when I jump up and cheer when one of the characters does what I have been telling them to do for the entire hour(still crying of course).

This week's Sunday Scribblings is Inspiration. I find it in the weirdest places, usually a sound or a smell will trigger something that inspires me to write. I have dozens of unfinished posts tucked away that are based on a small inspiration and when they bloom into a real thought I will finish them. My life is changing now and I am finding great inspiration from dreams that I pushed aside and people who love me. Real love, you know that trade my life for yours, I would shrivel up and die if you don't love me back kind of love. Not the I need somebody and oh well, you are here so you will do sort of love.

Reading Sam's post about Grey's this morning reminded me how much that show has changed my life. I can't talk about that particular episode because a lot of you aren't as far along as I am and I would never dream of spoiling a single second for anyone. The show is a gift. Truly a gift to girls like me who want and need and forget sometimes what is important. There is a healing that comes from curling up all alone in my dark living room with my big soft afghan knitted by my dead stepdad's mother and crying my heart out; my tiny Yorkie curled up on my shoulder occassionally giving me a little reassuring lick on the ear then tumbling confused and annoyed to the sofa when I jump up and cheer when one of the characters does what I have been telling them to do for the entire hour(still crying of course).

Sunday Scribblings-Morning

My morning started at 5am. I was sleeping soundly when Emma barked shrilly in my ear. "Gah! Shut up!" I said. She continued to bark which is really weird for her as she never barks. I thought omg something is wrong so I switched on the lamp and went into the living room. I heard noises from outside, it did not sound good. Gutteral yelling and a high pitched pleading. My heart thumped as a million memories flashed through my mind.
I peeked through the blinds and saw the skinny kid from the next building smacking his young wife in the courtyard. She pleaded with him to stop while screaming "I love you!" He called her horrid nasty names as he kept hitting and kicking her. Suddenly a plastic patio chair came sailing over the third floor balcony. A male voice called out "Leave her alone asshole!"
I went to the kitchen and picked up the phone and dialed 911. I told the calm voice on the other end what was going on. I was surprised to realize I was crying. She made sure I was not involved and then assured me the police were on the way already. I looked out again, the third floor man was in the courtyard now. The hitting had stopped but the yelling continued. The young wife was now screaming at third floor man to mind his own business. The police arrived and all was quiet again.
Twenty years ago I was that scared young wife out in the courtyard. God help her.