No Place Like Home

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Along hwy 200, just outside of Ovando, Montana

I have been to some places or events where I feel a connection- to the surroundings, the people, perhaps to the occasion or even the time.

I can walk into any ice rink in probably any country and I am immediately at peace. Cold, perhaps, particularly if its Rossland, BC but I understand and appreciate where I am.

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No Zamboni required here

I can spot where the Zamboni comes out and where the dressing rooms are. I usually can tell right away what level of hockey is played there by scoping out the audience benches and by what type of heating system, if any, is in place.

I feel comfortable and at peace.

I feel that way in most veterinary clinics and with most animals. It was something I learned as an adult but I feel completely complete with something furry in my arms.

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When Luigi first came home to Montana!

I am happy and able to connect with cats, dogs, ferrets, rats, guinea pigs, cows, horses and more. I can be a part of their community (which is basically how things run around the Fyfe Farm).

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Mummy and Mouse, part of each other’s family

We all want to be accepted even if it is only by one person, or one dog. Its natural. Human beings are herd animals and even though there are many who seek out private existences in the hinterlands, most of us live within communities.

I have lived in large cities (Vancouver, Tokyo) and smaller ones (Bismarck, Chilliwack) and have always managed to find people or groups to connect and fit in with.

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Looking west from a house in Ovando

And then there are the tiny little rural towns or villages like Ovando, Montana, where you would think the only thing to do is make plans to get somewhere else so you could do something.

Ovando has more cows and dogs than it does human residents.

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Rural Montana cows

It is tucked back a little off of highway 200 so you have to make a point to come through town.

And why would you unless you didn’t plan your mileage out very well and you noted that the town sign said “Gas” on it?

There is no ice rink.

No high school.

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My old high school in small-town Grand Forks, BC

No boutiques or spas or building supply stores. No fast food chains, no brand-name stores, no movie theatres and no mall. No medical clinic, no dentist, no dog grooming facilities. No cops, no realtors, no bank, no lawyers. No ski hill, tennis courts or football fields.

It has what appears to be an abundance of nothing.

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Ovando’s old Western jail last November

And yet, this teensy blip that takes less than 30 seconds to fly past on the highway has something that reaches in and clutches your heart and squeezes in a way that love and community come tumbling out of your eyes when you least expect it.

Like at the school’s 8th grade graduation ceremony the other night.

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Program for Ovando’s 8th grade graduation ceremony

My dear friend, Jessi, who used to be my veterinary assistant, is the mom to one of the graduates. She and Carson are part of a teensy, exclusive club of Fyfe Farm caretakers- they love our animals like their own and it was an honor to be invited to his graduation.

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Proud Mom, Jessi and I at the graduation ceremony

Where the 8th grade class consisted of 2 kids.

Yup.

2 kids.

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8th grade graduating class of Ovando!

Like I said, Ovando is small.

Their 3-room school combines kindergarten through 8th grade. All of the kids, regardless of age, must choose to get along.

And that is a real skill these days that I know a lot of adults haven’t mastered.

So you would think the attendance for these 2 youngsters on the brim of adolescence would be pretty small.

Not so much.

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Part of the crowd.

The floor seats were almost all filled and the bleachers behind them were full.

Not with relatives, either.

These were the townsfolk and neighbors and café owner and servers and parents of other children who came to celebrate Carson’s and Madeline’s journeys.

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Miss Valiton MCing the event. She has 2 really cute young cats and she bought my book!

They were the “summer people” who have just returned from Texas for their lovely season in Montana.

They were classmates of Carson’s parents, Jessi and Jake, who all had gone to school in Ovando years ago (Jessi and her sister each had one 8th grade classmate as well).

They were the new people who raise goats who have just moved to town whose children are all grown.

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The program for the evening

They come together every year to celebrate the kids who have learned how to get along with others, how to make the most of an education that must fit in math and science above and below their own learning, how to listen to the older kids and how to take care of and help along the younger ones.

They all play together on the playground because their community of companions is small.

And its actually a pretty special thing.

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Kids & parents enjoying cake and refreshments

They have traditions at graduation that many in the crowd had participated in themselves.

Parents of the graduates read “prophecies” of what they believed their child will accomplish or do in life.

Jake wasn’t there.

He’s busy protecting our asses over in Iraq right now for his 6th or 7th tour as a US Marine.

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Howard Fly, Carson’s grandpa!

So he wrote a letter that Jessi’s dad read to everyone.

And everyone in Ovando knows Jake because he and Jessi and half the audience went to school there and everyone knows the family’s sacrifices and everyone knows Howie because he also grew up in the area and used to run the one store/gas station/hotel in town and he’s arguably one of the most hilarious people in Ovando.

But not everyone expected to hear what Jake wrote.

How he doesn’t want his son to follow in his footsteps.

How he knows and loves and appreciates his son’s kindness and concern for others.

How he knows his son would never miss his own kid’s 8th grade graduation and that if more people around the world showed a bit of the passion, respect and love that Carson shows to others maybe Jake wouldn’t need to be where he is.

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Respectful crowd

And how he wants his son to go and explore the heck out of the world and meet new people in far-off countries with different beliefs and cultural patterns and meet a girl and fall in love and bring her home to Ovando to raise a family.

So everyone cried and that was fine because everyone there is kind of like family.

We got to watch the power point photo production run by the 7th and 6th graders and then we saw diplomas handed out.

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Carson receiving his diploma from Jim, the guy we buy our hay from. They run cows just outside of Ovando.

And we laughed and ate cake and wished the kids well (Madeline and her family always came to my vet clinic in nearby Seeley Lake and they bought my book so I know them, too).

The kids are venturing off to different high schools in different directions but they will always know about each other.

Its how Ovando works.

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At the local café, the Stray Bullet last fall for my book signing. Howard and his wife Peggy visited and bought a few copies. It was my best-attended book event yet and the support was amazing!

They hold each other up and watch out for everyone’s kids and have community Luaus and they all go to the Helmville rodeo and they collectively cheer the local kids on as they leave the nest and they wait for those adult children to experience the world and then return to raise their own families.

Because they know just how special they have it in their 3-room schoolhouse and that the kids learn more about life and fitting in there than anywhere else.

And I felt very comfortable there and very much at peace.

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Carson and I!

You could definitely tell what level of hockey was played at Fyfe's Backyard Rink... audience seating was pretty limited and heating was nil

You could definitely tell what level of hockey was played at Fyfe’s Backyard Rink… audience seating was pretty limited and heating was nil

Seating wasn't really even 'exit accessible' so help was often required (note Casey all concerned, too!)

Seating wasn’t really even ‘exit accessible’ so help was often required (note Casey all concerned, too!)

 

Confessions of an Imperfect Housewife

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Housewife duties…

Perfectionist. Competitive. Type A….

I’m completely fine with these terms when used to describe me and my quirky ways.

And I’m okay with the fact that not everyone obsessively organizes her cd collection alphabetically.

CDs in alphabetical order. Just dare to remove Spirit of the West and try to place it up by One Republic

CDs in alphabetical order. Just dare to remove Spirit of the West and try to place it up by One Republic

Or color-coordinates her closet.

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Golf shirts… in rainbow order

While this behavior has made me a difficult room-mate, its just the way I am and you either accept it or you don’t.

But I will admit, there are some areas in my life where I am not perfect.

Where I don’t even try to be remotely successful.

Areas I don’t even make an attempt because I am too far from even being adequate that perfection would take up an enormous chunk of time and energy which I prefer to put towards other areas I’m busy trying to perfect.

Making par on a challenging par 5... it takes a bit of effort!

Making par on a challenging par 5… it takes a bit of effort!

Like golf.

I love practicing in our backyard or chipping balls in the front yard or watching the pros play or hitting the driving range or watching videos or reading about different parts of the game or talking with Alistair about that last shot or discovering a new golf course or just playing 9 or 18 holes somewhere!

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Exploring golf courses on Hawaii’s Big Island (Mauna Lani resort golf course)

My book is the same thing.

I love creating characters and their friends and families and hanging out with them at school or on the back of a dog sled as they grow and share and learn and discover.

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Sharing my book with friends in Bismarck, ND

I am totally motivated to finish my sequel and share the latest creation and adventures of Luke and Tabitha. I want to succeed. I am driven and focused.

Completely motivated by the beautiful jewelry to be the best bling-slinger I can be!

Completely motivated by the beautiful jewelry to be the best bling-slinger I can be!

And my adventure with Chloe + Isabel fashion jewelry has my perfectionist nature pushed into overdrive.

I am loving the monthly incentives and learning new things about social media and business marketing and jewels-in-general and the support from the company and my bling-siblings is fabulous!

But there are those other areas in my life where I just don’t bother to thrive.

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Good housewife does certain dishes by hand daily. Granted, its self-serving with the wine glasses but still, if you want nice things you have to take care of them!

In general, I am a pretty decent housewife.

A difficult roommate with my OCD-ness, as we’ve covered, but Alistair has his closet and I have mine.

And he knows the spices are also alphabetically arranged and where the white pepper should go.

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One platoon in my army of Dyssons

I don’t eschew housework- that’s not my problem at all. We have a beautiful house and I take great care in keeping it looking lovely. Its my little deal with the house.

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Maybe one area I don’t strive for perfection…

I will admit I’m not super close with the ironing board.

It might have something to do with the one time my mom took me aside when I was a little girl on a rainy weekend, probably right after skating, to “teach” me how to iron.

“You’re going to need to know how to iron your husband’s shirts some day, Tanya.”

Wrong thing to say to me, even as a kid.

Feminist over-achiever from the beginning... in a tutu

Feminist over-achiever from the beginning… in a tutu

I remember wondering why I had to have a husband or why he couldn’t iron his own damned shirts or who would iron my shirts if I was the one bringing home the bacon?

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Doggie toys on the ironing board… at least its not dust!

I’m a clever person.

I figured ironing out just fine.

I don’t do it much (hence the dog toys) but when I do, its typical Tanya OCD fashion and I iron for a few hours  with the Hawaiian music station blaring through the speakers.

Don’t get me wrong- I do make mistakes.

The road to perfection is littered with potholes and low shoulders and poorly marked detours, which makes the journey that much more enjoyable.

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Working on being a perfect Step Gammy and veterinarian for Loki last fall when she injured her eye… while working on promoting my book!

Like the time there was “that smell” in our kitchen in Hazen for a couple of days late in the summer.

I discovered the source in front of the high school hockey coach we were assistant-coaching with when he was over for supper.

I opened the microwave to ‘bake’ some potatoes and found the pound of raw ground beef I had taken out to thaw a couple of days prior.

In our non-air-conditioned house during a warm North Dakota autumn.

Not so perfect.

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I sorry!

But the most glaring area of housewife imperfection involves needles and thread.

I don’t sew.

I CAN sew.

I just don’t.

Oh, I sewed up my husband, a friend, your cat, a neighbor’s horses, our dogs… wounds, cuts, spays, neuters, intestines, stomachs, paws, shins, fingers… tumors, lipomas, shin gashes, gastropexies, foreign bodies, dog fights and Grizzly Bear slashes.

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A certain kind of seamstress…

But I sent my physician-husband to work in slacks that were hemmed with a stapler one time.

And I am faced with a dilemma over my favorite pair of jeans that I have only worn once because the zipper broke.

Its busted in some weird way and it has nothing to do with the size of my ass.

Busted. The zipper, that is.

Busted. The zipper, that is.

I am at a loss as to what to do.

I don’t even know where one goes to buy a zipper, let alone how to remove and then replace one.

Are there zipper stores?

And so, my lack of an effort to master sewing means these uber cute jeans with very sparkly back pockets and cute boot cut hemlines sit in my color-coordinated closet (in the Jeans Section, not to be confused with the Tank Top Section or the Yoga Pants Section) not being worn.

I am appealing to my blog-reading friends for help and direction.

Bling-wearing, golf practicing, over-achiever who can't sew

Bling-wearing, golf practicing, over-achiever who can’t sew

What is a girl to do?

In the meantime, I’m off to watch the Preakness with hubby and enjoy a hike in the forest with UB and Cleo.

Because life is too short to spend time stressing about my imperfections.

I’m okay with them and Alistair is okay with them.

Even when I’m striving for perfection I know I can get annoying if I comment on the pots and pans being misplaced or a Michael Jackson cd is next to The Script. So it makes me more imperfect.

I know that.

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OCD-Spice-Girl

Just know that I will know if you’ve been screwing around in my spice cupboard!

I Am Completely Normal (or, The Case For Step-parents)

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I have never wanted to have children of my own.

There.

I’ve said it and I’m glad.

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Luigi and me!

Not human ones, anyhow.

I remember telling the dressing room of skaters my feelings about that as a kid.

It was one of those group discussions about how many kids each of us planned to have and I announced I would be having none.

That I would have to find a man who already had his own kids because he wasn’t getting them from me.

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Apparently I had things all figured out back then…

And it isn’t because I don’t like kids. That’s not it at all.

I love kids. They’re fun, they’re goofy, they like to play make-believe, they giggle freely, they like my stories, they like Rhonda, they like to watch me skate, they are full of wonder and, generally, they trust and believe openly.

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Harry and I back in the first version of my little vet clinic with the local pre-schoolers

I am completely comfortable around groups of kids regardless of whether I’m doing veterinary education or coaching figure skaters or hockey players.

I don’t break out in a sweat, I don’t have panic attacks, and I actually quite enjoy kids of all ages.

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Slightly blurry pic of a pic of our real wedding day with Gareth

So it was quite fortuitous that I met and married a man with all of the requirements.

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Same day, with Whitney

I had no expectations because, at 21, I had no friends dating older persons with their own kids.

None of my friends or siblings had any non-infant children of their own at that point so there was nobody to turn to for questions or suggestions.

I just winged it and tried to make our family as normal as possible.

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A long-ago blonde phase with Whitney & Gareth on our trip to Disney World

The kids even moved in with us in Watford City when Gareth was in grade 4 and Whitney was in grade 2.

At that point a few friends thought I was crazy (think I was 22 by then) but it never occurred to me that it was wrong.

Its not like Divorce was unheard of in the ’90s, its just that it didn’t happen much in the close-knit Doukhobor community and family I grew up in.

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Fyfe Family time on the outdoor ice rink in Watford City

So there was no reference point other than having 2 loving parents who wanted to make the best life possible for their kids.

Even if they weren’t my kids.

It has always helped that Alistair and his first wife had a fairly amicable divorce.

There was no throwing of cutlery or evil phone messages.

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Visiting the kids in Vancouver (with Rhonda)…

It may have helped that the ex lived in Vancouver, many miles and a country away. We have a mutual respect for one another, (particularly now that the kids are grown) and appreciate that we offered very different ‘mothering’ styles to the kids.

Maybe it also helped that I was so young- there are as many years between Alistair and I as with Gareth and I.

Which was fun when they were teens and we could sometimes sort of hang out.

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Camping trips with the kids & their friends

And listen to the same music and share our friends and learn to be a different but normal type of family and shop at Abercrombie together and be a part of each other’s lives as we were all growing and changing.

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Fyfe Life classic… Old Maid with Morgie!

And I can’t tell you how many of the kids’ friends I keep in good touch with via social media.

And some we even hang out with when we can.

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Morgan and I enjoying a great meal together in Bismarck a couple of years ago

And I think I am a very lucky woman to have the relationship I have with my now-adult stepkids.

They have never called me “Mom”. I was adamant about that because they already have a mother.

I was “Tan” back then and I’m “Tan” still.

Just because a person didn’t give birth to a child doesn’t mean they can not love them.

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Gareth’s high school grad with Whitney & I in Bismarck

Or be immensely proud of them and their achievements.

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Whitney’s high school grad a couple of years later in Vancouver

I have loved helping raise these 2 cool young people and I have so enjoyed watching Alistair raise them and care for them, too.

They aren’t my own children but I am his partner and I worry about his worries and I’m excited for his excitements.

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Proud Dad with Whitney’s hockey!

The main difference, which I had to remind the kids from time to time (like after the group of AAA hockey boys made a run on the Go Karts a living Hell for the owners of the place… AGAIN or the one prom night I won’t go into), was that I didn’t have that built-in ability to love them no matter what.

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Gareth, assuring me it wasn’t going to be like the summer before when we all almost got kicked off the course… (he was very, very wrong)…

When I used to say that I didn’t want kids I would get the typical responses:

“You will change your mind when you’re all grown up.”

“Once your friends start having kids you’ll feel differently.”

“You don’t mean that.”

But I did mean it.

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Me. Not wanting to have kids.

As years went by those comments turned bitter:

“You’re being selfish.”

“What’s wrong with you not wanting kids?”

“That isn’t normal.”

You know what, though? It IS normal for me.

I have always been career-driven and I knew, as a little girl, that children might get in the way of that.

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One of my careers

I also knew that I was extremely motivated to succeed- whether it was on the ice, with my textbooks, coaching, writing, slinging bling- whatever.

I moved away from home at the age of 12 to pursue skating at the highest level.

I graduated high school at 16 to get going on an education.

I moved by myself to Tokyo at 19 to make some money teaching English.

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Training & competing at as a high a level as I could dream. I couldn’t do that in my home town.

And deep down inside where you have a core that you know is your true self I knew that there was the slightest, teensiest possibility I could have a child who wouldn’t be like that.

And that would disappoint me.

And that would be wrong.

I knew that you shouldn’t ever be disappointed in your own child but there it was and I never, ever wanted to resent a child of my own.

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4th grade boys at their track meet in Watford City

So I didn’t mind that Alistair had his own kids. Heck, they could pee and eat on their own by the time I showed up so that was a huge bonus right there!

I took an active role in their parenting and have never felt like I missed out on anything.

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Whitney and I in Saskatoon, right around my vet school graduation!

And I absolutely love the young adults they have become and the journeys they have been on and we celebrate together in person or over a phone line or Facetime or we say goodbye to a group of animal companions that each and every one of us has loved on a sunny day with pink roses and we cry and hug together and laugh at shared memories and encourage one another’s dreams and we enjoy the good old days and the great ones now and the endless possibilities ahead.

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Whitney & I show-girling with the Luau men on Kauai

And I appreciate how truly lucky I am to have the relationships I do with these two.

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Vet school grad, 2005, Saskatoon

And I look forward to the times ahead… perhaps on a golf course or two…

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We are in the process of corrupting Whitney by making her a golf addict. We had both made par on her first day playing last month!

And its still fun to look back at where we all began.

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Hallowe’en, 1995, Watford City (goodness, there’s Rhonda again!)

And I know I am normal for me and you are normal for you.

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Whitney & Mulder a couple of years ago visiting us in Montana

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Gareth and the RX-7 for prom… (no, that’s not THE prom story…)

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Much younger Gareth and much younger Boomer back in Bismarck

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Lucky stepmom, (taken a few years ago in Vancouver)

The BEST Path Ever!

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Aloha tootsies!

I’ve travelled several paths already this year and it is only just the end of April.

The paths are sometimes real and sometimes metaphorical and yet they are all a means of sauntering along on my journey.

We sauntered our asses over to Hawaii’s Big Island again a couple of weeks ago for a fabulous little journey in the warm sunshine.

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A beautiful view!

The sky was bright blue, the ocean was navy, the clouds were fluffy, and the golf courses were awesome!

Our hotel room was a bit fancy but we didn’t complain.

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Lounging in our yukatas in the living room area…

We somehow landed this one-bedroom, ocean-view, corner suite on “cyber Monday”… a day that is uniquely American and geared to online consumers.

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One of our 3 lanais this last trip… we fell asleep every single night under the stars and waving palms listening to the ocean and the monorail below… talk about loving our Aloha!

Generally, we aren’t much for that type of thing but the rates last fall for the Hilton Waikoloa were 50% off! And then we found a conference for Alistair at a resort ‘down the road’…. I mean, we HAD to book, right?

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Many paths throughout the grounds at the Hilton Waikoloa!

I loved exploring the resort and the area around me when Alistair was off at the Hapuna Prince for his morning conferences.

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Pathways leading me around the resort

Its amazing to think that one week ago we were waking up all excited to play golf at a non-resort, more local golf course over by Kailua-Kona called Makalei.

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Every hole at Makalei was uphill or downhill…. a fun, friendly course we highly recommend!

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Getting ready to wrap up the round with our new friend, David, from AZ taking the picture at Makalei

Its amazing because here I am today, back in Montana, on a dramatically different farm than the one we left.

For starters, the weather is a bit different this morning.

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Our stallion, Dash, not overly thrilled about the weather situation…

It wasn’t all that cold before we left for Hawaii. Our local golf course had re-opened and we had played a couple of times.

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My step-daughter, Whitney and I before we left… we introduced golf and Norman to Whitney… a new journey for her, perhaps. (Note: no snow on the ground and no jackets on our bodies!)

Little Loki is missing her Mummy a lot and was a bit unsettled yesterday.

That could also do with the main reason our farm is so different now- Casey finally succumbed to his laryngeal paralysis while we were gone.

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Casey & Dad a couple of years ago riding in Steve, our Ranger

Casey.

Jumpy, eager, goofy, happy, silly, clumsy, fun-loving Casey.

The dog who was always there is gone and the hole left behind is tremendous.

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On one of many, many hikes on one of many, many paths

We had all hiked together before we left and Casey’s breathing had been labored so we did a much-modified, shortened hike. I had explained to Whitney that his disease was a matter of ‘when’… not ‘if’ and that we had already surpassed expectations by over a year.

Alistair and Whitney were adamant that we keep things as they were- that I wasn’t to step in and end things before we left.

Before he had a few more bumps with UB.

Or cuddles with Cleo.

Or sniffs with Loki.

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UB, Casey & Loki goofing around a couple of months ago

And I was and I am completely fine with that.

Because each day really is a gift and nobody knew that better than Casey.

The physical embodiments of the words, “Oh, BOY!” lived each minute as the BEST one ever, regardless of what came his way.

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Casey & Mummy, probably 12 years ago

As a puppy he never looked back when his former humans shattered his rear limbs with some blunt object. He became a ward of my vet school and joined our family for the rest of his own journey.

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Young Casey Fyfe! Oh, BOY!

He took every opportunity to cuddle and enjoy each companion he could, human or otherwise and there was always such joy in his eyes.

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Young (and bright-eyed) Loki with one of her BFF’s, Casey back in Bismarck about a dozen years ago. xo

His clumsiness seems more endearing to me now as I look through my rear-view mirror back down the paths we traveled.

At the time, though, I’m sure a few naughty words flew when he would slam into me.

Or when he knocked Alistair over post-knee surgery into a puddle on the driveway. I can only imagine what was being said as Alistair struggled to get his crutches while Casey was leaping all over and on top of him.

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Casey & Dad hiking this winter

Casey lived and loved at full throttle.

If you were in his way (as my brother’s boys discovered) you would be slammed into and then licked and loved as you laid on the ground.

His wiggly ass and wagging tail knocked Cleo into the hot tub one time.

That was the BEST dunking of Cleo!

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All 4 of the outside gang this winter

Something changed for Casey when we unexpectedly lost Harry in January.

He was still eager, keen, bright and goofy but he didn’t go for his kibble with the same gusto… and his runs through the pastures seemed more like he was looking for someone.

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This is the BEST time on the couch, Mummy!

I believe he has found Harry again and the 2 of them are on a different journey of their own now.

We laid our big boys to rest with pink roses along with Cousteau, Mae Mae, Oscar, Cadbury, Marmalade and Mulder on a cloudy morning with patches of blue peeking through and a breeze strong enough to keep me from keeping my Memorial candle lit.

Typical.

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Oh, BOY! This is the BEST photo opportunity ever, Dad!

And I miss Casey like I never thought possible and Cleo has moved primarily inside and she’s eager to cuddle and take over the bed and all of the animals are sorting this out and I still look for Mulder and long to hear Harry’s “Woo Woo’s” and I think I hear the guinea pigs whistling at me and I’m crying again but trying to be that strong, independent woman I think I am when clearly I’m not and our hikes out back are SO different now because although its the same path I have hiked for years, its a completely different journey.

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Oh, BOY! My first agility trials with my DAD!!!!

And we will all be okay.

Little things make me smile or laugh- like seeing my golf club head covers at the Mauna Lani resort 2 days after Casey had laid down in the grass with Whitney and Cleo on a sunny afternoon for the last time.

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Who knew Muldie and Casey would join Jinxie in the spirit world when I got these late last summer?

The fact we were an ocean away maybe even helped because of the Aloha surrounding us.

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View from the big lanai

We played golf and raised our glasses to one of the BEST dogs ever to join our rag-tag band of merry misfits.

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I had just made par on the par 3 hole below. People had been watching from this lava and had cheered me on. Seemed like a good time & place to celebrate 🙂

And I continue on my journey and I’m hoping that’s enough loss for awhile and that I can retain some of that Aloha ’cause it really is something special.

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Post hula lesson at the Hilton Waikoloa!

And I am okay with the hurt because it means the love was real.

And I still think I am the luckiest girl in the world to have known some amazing spirits.

Mahalo, Casey. That was the BEST of times! xo

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golf ball hunting in lava fields

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Ocean-side golf!

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Their last hike together. “That was the BEST hike ever, Dad!” April 13, 2015

Highs & Lows

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Headed East

My highs have been pretty high lately.

The entire month of March was one big tidal wave of laughter, adventure, hugs, joy and success and I’m still beaming from the experience.

Alistair and I got to spend 3 whole weeks together where we were both healthy and hospital beds weren’t involved.

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My cool traveling buddies en route to Bismarck!

Loki, UB and I traveled back to Bismarck with him for my North Dakota book signing tour. Loki navigated the house there as if she had full vision- our little blind grand-dog is a trooper!

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My view, #2

Once you leave the sky-high mountains of western Montana the terrain changes.

The road becomes straighter, the sky becomes larger,  the mountains become buttes and the fenceposts get further and further apart.

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My view, #3

And then suddenly you realize you’re driving on the horizon in a straight line through the prairies.

There are few houses and few driveways.

There are miles and miles of fenceline.

There are cows, calves, horses, foals, sheep, lambs and antelope (didn’t see any antelope-lings).

There isn’t much shoulder and there’s nowhere to pull over but that doesn’t really matter because we were practically the only vehicles on the road.

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Cocoa, Fumie, Penner, Shilo and Flash… some of my ND gang

I enjoy going back to our home in Bismarck.

I love seeing our horses and chipping golf balls at Fyfe’s Backyard Driving Range and watching prairie thunderstorms roll in.

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Fyfe’s Backyard Driving Range. Pants optional.

I love how New Neighbor doesn’t disappoint me when I have to roll my eyes at least once at their trying-to-fit-into-the-hood-ness. This time NN came by to apologize for his dog going into our garage and tossing our garbage all over the place.

“I don’t know if he’s done that before…”

“Yes. Yes, he has, but Alistair never mentioned it.”

“Oh. Say, are you guys getting ready to go somewhere?”

(In my head I wanted to say, ‘no, I always wear sparkly jewelry and have my hair all styled with gobs of makeup on a Saturday on the farm…) Out loud I told him about my book signing.

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We got the BIG table 🙂 at Dunn Bros. coffee in Bismarck, ND! (photo by Rebecca B)

Selling and signing books I climbed that tall wave of happiness as I got to see so many people who have meant the world to me for many years.

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Skating world and book world combined!

My top figure skaters and their moms came down and joined in the fun. We talked skating, book-writing, jewelry, coaching, college, how mothers-always-know, and high school graduation.

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Leanna, me, Alicia & Andrea… 3 of my top figure skaters when I coached in Bismarck

Friends from the hockey world stopped by. Parents of players we had coached in both Watford City and Hazen.

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Hockey friends, Sonny, Wendy and Sherry!

Friends we have known for the 15 or more years hubby has worked at his hospital, like Geneva, who was one of his first nurses.

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Geneva, who had already read the book, sharing with me how she just started taking piano lessons!

And friends whose parents we’ve known who have grown into pretty cool adults now!

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Rebecca and Ben Brick (wedding photos in a blog from last August…)

The very next day I was off to Watford City, where Alistair and I first played house back in 1994.

It was a lovely day for a 3-hour drive on roads I haven’t traveled for awhile.

Roads that have weathered many windy winters through the “Badlands” (aka North Unit of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park).

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by The Park

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more of the jagged, craggy landscape that has been created by forces of water and wind and boat loads of time

Although the highway was the same there are things new to the area that are almost unbelievable.

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Sunday morning truck traffic in North Dakota

This is the heart of oil country now and while the jobs and money and people are there, it is a far cry from the Wild West we used to live in. Its progress, alright, but its a bit unsightly.

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The landscape dotted with ‘progress’…

And even though I have read about this growth and people told me about the development I still wasn’t ready to see the “Man Camps”… where people from all over the US have settled in row after row of RVs or box-car-like homes on fields that once housed cattle.

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Man-Camp just outside of Watford City

Once I got to Main Street, things looked more familiar and I made my way to our old house.

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Our first home together, Watford City

The house we moved to after having just met a few months prior.

The house I got my first cat in.

Where we got our first ferret.

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Gareth with Koshka and Marshal & Alistair in Watford City, 1995-ish

The house we got dressed up to go elope in when Alistair got 2 hours away from the pager.

The house where the kids came to live with us… where rugby lessons were given, hockey was played on the driveway, school was skipped for skating sessions, cookies were baked, tennis balls were thrown, dogs were walked, field trips were taken, homework was done, garter snakes and Larry the Lizard were kept and Hallowe’en Parties were held.

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The Rugby Lesson, with Scottie, coach Alistair, Whitney, um… Troy? Sean, Gareth and Mychael (whose folks, Sonny and Wendy came to Bismarck’s book signing!)

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Hallowe’en Party, 1995, Watford City

Its the house where our beloved Golden, Mitch, laid down by the back deck and died peacefully in his sleep one sunny afternoon.

Where I held him and cried my eyes out knowing I had to tell the kids and Alistair that our faithful companion was running free.

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Whitney & Mitch in Watford City

But its just a house, right?

I wiped my eyes and made it to the Civic Center for my book signing combined with a fundraiser.

The local paper had done an article beforehand and I got to see just about everyone from the good old days.

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Kira, who was one of my youngest figure skating students back in “Tiny Tots” in the then-brand-new ice rink… she has since toured with Disney on Ice, graduated college and become engaged!

It was fantastic to see everyone and share my stories with them all. Some didn’t even know I’ve become a veterinarian since living in Watford City.

How everything changes while staying the same.

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Back in shiny jewelry and makeup in Watford City! (Signing Kayla Hansen’s book while mom, Lynette took the picture)

Driving home I made a point to stop at our old farm which, happily, isn’t made into an oil field or a Man-Camp.

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View of our old quarter-section just outside of Watford City… happily undeveloped

I smiled, with tears in my eyes when I saw Mitch’s hill and the pole that marks his final resting place.

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We love you, Mitchie!

And then I smiled some more looking towards the taller hill by the driveway, where I rigged up a Happy Party one drizzly spring for Whitney and her girlfriends, complete with a watermelon-shaped cake and horseback rides on old Sonny.

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The first ever Happy Party more than served its purpose 🙂

The highs of March continued with tremendous online sales of my Chloe + Isabel jewelry, where I made my goals and earned myself some incredible bling.

I’ve been riding that enormous wave of happiness and its been a good ride.

Its been much needed and Alistair has enjoyed sharing it with me.

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Whitney & Gareth playing on one of the old cars on our ND farm back in the day

And I made the trek back to Montana with UB and Loki after they shared a fun week on the prairies, too.

Back to a home where the word, ‘attrition’ has been used too often these past few months… where it may be used again soon.

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Casey (with Cleo) this morning

Casey’s laryngeal paralysis is finally doing what I’ve feared it would do.

How can I be surprised by something I’ve been expecting for close to 2 years?

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Casey this winter

He isn’t able to go for our short walks without turning blue and gasping.

That’s not cool for him.

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My old friend, Casey this winter, “helping” me shovel the decks

If he isn’t worked up he still wags his tail, leaps and devours his food; he isn’t suffering or in pain.

But he isn’t allowed to be Casey, either.

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Casey and Dad a summer or two ago

So, unless I have to step in beforehand, I will wait for Alistair’s return this week and I will do what must be done.

Again.

Until that point you can bet Casey will be loved up the ying-yang, even if he bonks into me.

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Several years ago, air-dancing with Casey!

And I will keep on keeping-on, enjoying my high-level highs and making more adventures possible. I’m setting up an online jewelry party for the Fyfes in Scotland… talk about a high!

Mitch is going to get a kick out of Casey.

I just hope they have tennis balls in Heaven.

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High times in Bismarck with hubby

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View from the deck in ND

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Casey Fyfe, a good old boy, noshing on his kibs this morning

Many Makeovers

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Snowy, icy footprints several mornings ago

I haven’t blogged for a couple of weeks but only because my journey has taken me on some different paths lately.

Paths through snow, ice, mud, puddles, and grass- over fairways, greens, ski hills, highways and into dog kennels-  with pets, hubby, parents, friends, bling-buyers, and veggie-lovers…

It has been a busy time!

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Late winter morning on the ranch a couple of weeks ago

This time of year is filled with change as Mother Nature begins a complete makeover of herself.

The beautiful snow-covered fields criss-crossed with snowmobile tracks and dog paw prints are becoming wet and brown and, in places, a bit green.

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The last time the snowmobiles got used this season… for a photo shoot with Mouse, Jockey and Alistair

We saw our first robin the other day from our bubbling hot tub.

We’re starting to have warmer days with sunshine and less frost on the decks and trucks in the morning.

We have driven to Helena and Missoula a couple of times to play golf because our local course is still covered in its winter white blanket.

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Great times playing golf at the end of February in Helena!

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A couple of days ago in Helena

Golf one day, skiing the next.

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We got out skiing at least once this winter!

Adventures during the great outdoor makeover are happening on the heels of our animal companions adjusting to the family-dynamic makeover of where they all fit without Harry and Mulder.

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Good old Casey!

Casey continues to be Casey- a jumping, panting, food-gobbling, dog-with-unilateral-paralyzed-larynx kind of guy.

He’s happy. Very happy. Always happy.

And bouncy. Very bouncy.

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Cleopatra… working those Spaniel eyes of hers!

Cleo stays outside all of the time now to keep Casey company.

We intend to bring them both in but not until we’ve arranged a couple of baths.

Talk about needing a makeover!

Cleo is a digging fool in the springtime and she brings home many ‘discoveries’…

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Trying her best to look innocent…

When the forest is your backyard and you have dogs, you’re going to see some anatomy.

Loki is doing well despite her really bad left eye… Boomer has nailed her so many times it isn’t even funny.

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Loki and her ulcerated, trying-to-heal left eye…. navigating the great outdoors!

I have her on topical antibiotics all of the time as well as twice-daily anti-inflammatories.

Loki seems to be able to navigate better outside with the brighter days, just like she did last spring and the spring before that.

And my smile widens and the skin by my eyes crinkles as I watch all 15 pounds of her snort and bustle and trot down towards the geldings or over towards the barn with a confidence that defies her blindness.

And UB is her seeing eye dog and he’s doing great.

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UB, showing off his exceptionally tight buns!

Especially when he finds limbs or jaw bones or spines just like his big sister, Cleo!

The cats are hanging in there. No makeovers necessary.

I mean, I would love to shave most of Boomer and Cooper because neither of them are grooming much anymore at 19 and 19-plus years of age.

But Boomer still prances to see me, bitching loudly when there are no ice cubes in the water dish or when she deems that it is time for soft food (with her crushed-up methimazole in it).

We’ve discovered that Cooper is deaf.

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Cooper, ten or eleven years ago… her age is a mystery

It doesn’t bother her or anybody else as far as we can tell.

And the ferrets and the rest of the feline Fyfes are as good and bright and mischievous as ever.

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A trio of trouble!

The little shoe-thieves all had showers with me yesterday and the cage had its monthly makeover so they are all sparkly clean and cucumber-melon scented once again.

My folks are having a kitchen makeover done up in Canada right now so they came to visit for a few days.

They brought my 88-years-young Nan along and she loved playing with the animals again.

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Nan back on the farm

And we got a golf club back into Dad’s hands and he joined us for a morning of chipping practice and laughing in our front yard where Mother Nature was in the midst of her snow-melting, grass-awakening, tree-budding, dog-poop-uncovering, sky-warming, horse-shedding makeover.

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Fyfe’s Frontyard Pitch & Putt

And all of this is while I’m leaping into another adventure of my own.

This adventure began a couple of months ago when I innocently bought some pretty bracelets during an online ‘PopUp’ hosted by a friend in South Dakota.

They’re very sparkly and I love them.

And I had a great experience during the online event and I got researching things.

And I talked with Alistair and I laid awake at night and I hiked with the dogs and I researched some more and I wrote in my journal and I wondered and I dreamed and I smiled and Alistair smiled and I was interviewed and accepted and I made it happen.

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Chloe & Isabel bling! Bling-bling-bling-bling-bling! 🙂

And I am now a Merchandiser with Chloe & Isabel- a 4 year-old, progressive, women-centered, supportive, wonderful, direct-sales jewelry company!

I am thoroughly enjoying the learning, friendship and camaraderie (not to mention the fabulous bling!)

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My first PopUp at Jessi’s… our animal theme was perfect as she was my veterinary assistant when I had my clinic

I’ve had 3 PopUps (time-limited, on-site events showcasing the beautiful, well-made jewelry where Hosts can earn free bling and everyone has fun) and my Hosts have earned $100 and $200 in free goodies! (thanks, Jessi, Emily and Cindy!)

The company encourages online PopUps and sales and I’m loving planning my first online event. I have a boutique anyone can order from at any time (www.chloeandisabel.com/boutique/tanyafyfe) and I am fitting this new adventure into my farm-running, animal-cuddling, hubby-loving, golf-playing, book-marketing, sequel-writing, veterinary-journal-reading, hiking, blogging, treadmilling life.

I did worry, though.

I worried that some might frown upon the fact I spent 8 years to become a doctor and now I’m slinging bling.

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Dr.Fyfe… 8 or 9 years ago with one of the luckiest kitties in the world (cat vs. farm implements usually don’t turn out very well but this one did!)

But anyone can attest to my love of sparkly things and gorgeous jewelry. I used to design dresses for skating and real life when I was younger, doodling in every note book I had.

(I also designed houses but I’m going to hold off on an architecture path just now…)

I don’t consider this adventure a makeover of myself, though.

Its another addition, or facet of Me.

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Another part of me (1992!)

The dorky kid became the skater became the wife became the horse breeder became the veterinarian became the golfer became the business owner became the author became the entrepreneurial jewelry Merchandiser.

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Cleo and her veterinarian Mummy

I have been and continue to be all of these things.

Each facet helps the others and keeps me busy and smiling and sometimes these different worlds collide and that’s even more fun!

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Ah yes… convincing the bridal party that skates weren’t optional 🙂 Love these guys! (1996, Grand Forks, BC)

(Incidentally, my friend, Abby, whose online PopUp I bought the bracelets from is a former figure skating student of mine… colliding worlds, indeed!)

The makeovers that surround me continue as ever and I will continue to grow and change and try to always be a better Me.

A better wife, daughter, friend and pet-Mummy.

And bling-slinger.

Happy. Very happy. Always happy.

If you’re interested in hosting an online or in-person PopUp, even if we’ve never met, let me know. (Yeah, its shameless self promotion but what are you going to do?)

Happy Spring!

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Hubby, Dad and I enjoying some springtime front yard golf

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Yay, Spring!

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The road leads where it leads

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My newest adventure! Check it out!

21 Years Later…

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Right around this time of year, 21 years ago, I met Alistair.

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Some promo pics taken after the show, the night Alistair was in the stands watching

We were set up by mutual friends and we both had big things coming up in our lives that made it kind of silly to start a relationship.

I had contracted to return to Japan for 2 more ice shows starting a month after we met and he was moving to the United States.

We were going nowhere as a couple.

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Oh, Patti…. if you only knew! (Maybe you did) 🙂

But this wonderful, fun, special friend of mine set us up.

She also helped bring me in to guest skate that night in Creston for their skating club’s annual ice show.

I had babysat Patti’s kids when they lived down the road from us in Grand Forks and we had kept in touch over the years.

That year, 1994, I was living in Nelson. I was coaching both there and in Grand Forks, which was 90 minutes over a mountain pass away.

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One of my Nelson students, Jessica. I don’t think she’ll kill me for posting this.

I have always loved coaching. I loved helping kids achieve their goals and watching them improve and seeing the joy in their eyes when they, too, knew they had improved.

Or passed tests.

Or won medals.

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One of my Grand Forks skaters, Tyler. I’m actually more concerned that he has the connections to kill me for posting this but he is a well-respected coach now, too, so hopefully its all good.

That was a strange year for me, spending so much time on the road in ‘Duff’, my Mercury Topaz.

I had returned from a year of teaching English in Japan with several extra pounds and no fiancée. I was a half-assed vegetarian who kind of stopped drinking for awhile.

I blamed meat and alcohol for my weight gain but, really, it was just me learning how to be an adult in a body that wasn’t training umpteen hours in a day. And, really, you can’t have Kahlua and cream every night and not pay for it.

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One of my Nelson students, Laura. Always a pretty smile on her face and she always got the jokes.

I came back to Canada without any of the goals I’d had before I went to Japan. I’d broken up with my fiancée by phone (I sympathized with Rory McIlroy last year when he did the same… hey, sometimes its the only way, alright?) and returned without any expectation of meeting anyone.

Which is why I threw myself into my work.

Until I met this guy.

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Schwing!

He was in the audience and our mutual friends took us out for drinks afterwards and I was leaving and he was moving and we weren’t going anywhere.

But after our first meeting he drove from Creston to Nelson to watch my big ice show there, Starstruck.

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Me and my girls from our opening number in Startstruck, Hot Hot Hot!

The biggest show I’ve ever choreographed and produced, this was a big deal.

It was also a bit of a family affair.

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Little sis, ready for her modeling gig in the show

My sister came in as a guest skater for the show and also did a little modeling in one of the routines.

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Svetlana working on my sister’s ‘do for the show

My cousin, Svetlana, a stylist, donated her time and did the girls’ hair for us all.

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Me and a very young Robyn in Nelson

Even my little cousins, Robyn and Pamela were there from Victoria and came to watch the show with their folks. (Robyn is now a major model in NYC…. I can only hope the sequins, spandex and makeup from 1994 inspired her!)

And there was Alistair… happily joining in the celebrations and helping me host my champagne breakfast and video review the following morning.

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Some of my Grand Forks skaters at their ice show that same spring!

And then he was in Grand Forks watching me guest skate again and cheer on my students in their annual ice show a couple of weeks later.

That’s the same weekend I met his kids.

Which was a weird deal for a lot of 21 year-olds but it didn’t seem weird to me at all.

They were just his kids.

And they were pretty cute, and old enough to eat and pee on their own, which is obviously a bonus.

And they met me in sequins and spandex and fishnets and I tell you, there is something magical about that when you’re a little kid!

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Our hotel room in Spokane with my going-away buddy, Seemore

And then he took me to the airport in Spokane and sent me on my way to Japan to be Sailor Moon and a glitzy showgirl all over again.

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My bedmates in our little house in Japan

Without the Internet back then we wrote letters and faxes and fell deeper in love… old school style.

And when I came home 2 months later I stayed with him in his beautiful log home in Creston with his sheep, Golden Retriever, ducks, geese and horses.

And I made some changes to myself.

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Getting a grip on who I was with a big old smile (and horribly high-waisted pants! Ick!)

And Alistair embraced my quirks and my humor and even my family.

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Little sis and her friend and I before a ride… said Friend fell off her horse twice that day. I didn’t know that was possible, to be honest.

And we moved to the states and his kids spent the summers with us and we became our own little family and we never cared much about our age difference and I went back to school and he was a doctor and all the while he kept on supporting my skating and coaching needs.

We didn’t have an indoor ice rink in Watford City, ND, but I had brave friends from Nelson and Grand Forks who would help with that.

And hard working, incredible friends in Watford City (Tim & Wendy) who amazingly agreed to help make this fundraiser happen.

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The first Raise The Roof ice show with Tim & Wendy (my ND support group and source of sanity), Little sis, Jen, Leslie, Laura, Shantalla and Alistair

We put Raise The Roof together, revamping that Hot Hot Hot opening number on the outdoor rink and indoors in Williston. Each of us performed solo routines as well.

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Laura, so impressed with the outdoor rink… but still smiling!

It was cold but it was pretty awesome at the same time. People sat in their cars with their headlights on, adding to the lights of the outdoor rink for the show there.

The crack that extended across the width of the rink from the cold only became a problem when Jen got her toe pick caught.

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So much silliness and laughter in this pic, along with so much respect for the skaters & hockey players who joined my show and performed because I asked them to.

The Watford City hockey boys were part of the show, too, and I am amazed that they participated and maybe had fun. (Pictures are from the indoor rink in Williston, where we spent the next 30 minutes signing autographs).

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The boys and I… hard to believe they actually wanted a part of this after what I would put them through in Power Skating

And all along, Alistair has supported this.

These dreams, these zany visions and notions I have. We did a Raise The Roof the following year but none of the Nelson girls made it. My sister and a castmate from Ice Capades joined us, though, so there was some continuity.

And its crazy fun that I’m Facebook Friends with so many of the skaters in this blog (and their parents!)

What began as a blog about step-parenting turned into a stroll down Nostalgia Lane and back to the frozen world of figure skating.

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Looking like this, you’d think I would have driven a Subaru back then (no, that’s not my car in the background…. Mercury Topaz, remember?)

It turned into a review of who I was in 1994… a young woman who had been on her own and traveled and lived and done the ice shows and been engaged and coached in two cities and drove too many miles and experimented with a variety of styles and looks and didn’t have any animal companions and finally went back to being a carnivore who enjoys her red wine.

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Becoming Me, with Babe and Shadow along to help.

And a gorgeous boyfriend with 2 cute kids and nobody to give advice on what to do because none of my friends were going through that back then.

Sinead O’Conner sang, “How could I possibly know what I want when I was only twenty one”….

I didn’t necessarily know exactly what I wanted but I knew I was enjoying what I had.

Immensely.

With no more Kahlua and creams….

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My show girls… before boarding the train for 2 days to get back to Spokane. Thanks, Shantalla, Diana, Laura and Jen! I think of you guys often and its always with a smile. xo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Special Agent Fox Mulder Fyfe

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Mulder and Mummy

I think its pretty safe to say that I am not suffering from Compassion Fatigue.

No, my emotions are well and truly on display and I often have no control over them.

Like now… when I am choosing to share the fact that we had to help another special member of the Fyfe family over the Rainbow Bridge a few days ago when a rapid type of cancer took over Mulder’s unsuspecting body.

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Mulder, snoozing on the kitchen table last summer

The grief is raw and fresh and the tears are burning my eyes and I am totally okay with that.

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Alistair and Muldy back in ND a few years ago

Compassion fatigue is a term used for medical professionals who deal with emotional work routinely only their emotions don’t show.

It is often a veterinary team member who deals with terminal diagnoses, dropped-off or unwanted pets and euthanasias on a regular basis.

Many of these people bottle their emotions up inside with a “suck it up” attitude and they don’t have an outlet to let them back out.

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The “Muldy Pillow”

No family, friend or colleague to share them with.

No journal or blog to give life to words and feelings.

No sports or hobbies to allow the emotions to ride along on physical or creative release.

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Mulder loved nothing better than a classy box to hang out in

A resident during my 4th year Small Animal Medicine rotation was like that.

I had gone in to see a client and realized I was being asked to perform my first-ever euthanasia.

On a lovely, older, long-haired ginger cat.

The cat’s name was Tanya.

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Mulder Fyfe!

I remember going back to the interns and residents with tears in my eyes, thinking of my own long-haired ginger buddy in Bismarck, telling them the owner’s wishes for that morning.

This particular resident looked me in the eye and said, poker-faced, that I had to “get over it.”

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Muldy and I in Bismarck

I still remember how I felt that day before, during and after the appointment and how I didn’t bother holding the tears back as I injected the terminal solution into Tanya’s intra-venous catheter.

The resident didn’t grade me very well after that rotation and I didn’t care.

I have always wanted to be a good vet.

Maybe not the smartest, most intuitive, amazing, intellectual vet. Just a good one whose clients would know I cared about them and their pets.

I never minded sharing many tears over many goodbyes in my clinic.

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Not long after Mulder moved in with us 16 years ago

My feelings were right at the surface when I laid awake our final night in bed with Alistair, Mulder, UB and Loki.

I didn’t sleep a wink listening to Mulder’s sometimes-raspy breathing, knowing his cutaneous lymphoma had likely spread elsewhere.

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Mulder’s glorious winter hair coat in Bismarck a few years ago

 

I got up with him through the night when he got off the bed and helped him to the litter box where his kidneys spoke volumes.

Literally and figuratively.

I cried all night and in the morning when I told him all the things that needed to be said.

And I cried when I knew Alistair was off having his own time with our special friend.

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More “Muldy Pillow”

Mulder was unique for so many reasons and anyone who visited the Fyfe Farm remembered him.

Maybe for his raspy, incessant “MRAWWWWL” that he shouted frequently.

Maybe for the way he sat at (or laid on) the kitchen table even when we were having supper.

Or maybe for his ‘kiss pieces’ of bacon he would happily take from Alistair’s mouth regardless of who was watching.

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My breakfast-in-bed companions, Alistair, Mulder and Boomer (likely just after a kiss piece of bacon)…

He was a character from the moment he moved inside, a torn-up, scarred, sassy ragamuffin who I only fed because I didn’t want this beat-up stray dying with an empty stomach in our barn.

He followed his big brother, Oscar around, he smacked at my stepkids for no apparent reason, he head-butted us with an intensity that knocked us off balance, he tried opening door knobs with his front paws, he hunted voraciously, he tolerated our Siamese, Sport, who followed him everywhere, he groomed our arms as he purred if you rubbed his head and routinely drew blood with his intense, brittle tongue and he knew how to give as much love back as we could give him.

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Muldy-in-a-box

He hid in boxes and was first in line for soft food and he actually had a sense of humor.

When he first moved in with us he would lay at the top of our split level stairs and whack at our dressing gowns as we walked past him, almost sending us down the stairs.

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Purrrrrrrrrrrrr…

We would look down and he would be looking away, forepaws tucked neatly underneath his chest and then slowly look up at us as if to say, “What? You being clumsy again?”

Alistair didn’t believe a cat was capable of such coy plotting until the one time Mulder got his claw stuck in my robe and he was busted.

He never did it ever again and I’m smiling from the memory.

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Boomer, Loki and Mulder helping me study years ago in ND

As he got older we would often find him snuggled in bed next to Loki, our blind Boston Terrier grand-dog who lives with us.

They both claim innocence but we know the affection was real.

We know it because even Loki has been grieving the loss of Mulder the past few days.

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Even the Mulder & Loki golf club covers cuddle in bed!

And Mulder was one of my main muses as I wrote my books, keeping me company on the green couch behind me.

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Helping me write!

 

And the house is quiet and the order of who gets soft food first has changed and I don’t find clumps of orange hair around and nobody is swatting at my hand when I’m on the toilet and UB isn’t sure whose hairy ears to lick and we haven’t had bacon yet because we don’t want to face the no-kiss-piece situation and the freezer is becoming alarmingly full and it wasn’t his time and it isn’t fair and sometimes I just stop and remember and it hurts.

And I miss him.

And I’ve got this emptiness.

And I’m crying again. Because I don’t have compassion fatigue.

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I miss seeing these two cuddled up together.

And so, a few mornings ago, Special Agent Fox Mulder Fyfe laid in his dad’s lap and tears fell from my eyes as I sedated our magnificent little buddy.

His weight was down to just over 8 pounds, which was perhaps half of what Muldy in his prime had weighed.

His dignified, tough, amazing spirit deserved better and together, we gave it to him.

Like Harry. And Oscar. And Chorney before that.

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Mulder and his “sister”, Whitney a few years ago

And nothing is bottled up because that just isn’t healthy and I want to feel the pain because I know it means that I felt the love and joy that my relationships with these spirits gave me.

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Hanging around, Muldy style

Rest in peace, Mulder.

You were so loved. And you are so missed.

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Muldy and I a few months ago… xoxo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maui Magic and Mai Tais

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Hibiscus flowers at our resort

Aloha!

Again!

As unbelievable as it may seem, we just returned from Maui.

This most recent trip to the Hawaiian islands was for continuing medical education for Alistair.

For me it was a much-needed break from my rough start to the new year.

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Enjoying the mandatory relaxation on our lanai a week ago

I was able to leave 4 feet of snow, ice-covered decks and roads, my scarf-glove-toque-jacket-leggings-snow pants-boots outfit, wood piles, wood stoves, a limping barn kitty and a house without Harry behind as I smelled the Hawaiian air and felt the sun on my bare skin.

It didn’t matter that our plane was 2 hours late.

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Somewhere between 1 and 2am finally getting our ‘aloha’ on

It didn’t matter that I lost Alistair at the airport after picking up our rental car because I was watching a feral airport kitty cross the road.

I lost him for over 20 minutes and finally texted him, “Where are you?”

I mean, where can a guy with 2 huge suitcases and 2 full golf club travel cases and a knapsack go at Kahului airport at close to midnight????

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Sights and colors of Maui

(It turned out he was sitting right by where a cute feral cat had just crossed the road…) (Ooooops…)

Apparently I brought some other baggage along on the trip only it wasn’t something I had packed.

It was all neatly tucked away in my over-active subconscious just teasing me with mild distraction, waiting for the opportunity to leap to the forefront of my life.

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Leaping Humpbacks!

Like the leaping Humpback whales we got to see up close and personal on a whale-watching tour with Captain Steve and 20 of our closest new friends.

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Amazing!

The whale tour was magnificent.

Awe inspiring.

Incredible.

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Mama whale and her calf off the shores of Lahaina

We were right on the water in a zodiac watching a mother whale teach her calf how to breach.

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Mama, doing some teaching

The whales return to the warm, shallow waters between Maui and her neighboring islands of Lanai and Molokai every winter to calve and mate before journeying back up to Alaska.

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Whale dive

It is something to behold, particularly when the whales were putting on a show like they did for us.

After Mama and her calf left we had a pod of males chasing a female, hurling their massive bodies out of the water all around us.

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Just… Wow…

That was our second morning there.

The morning after my subconscious did its thing.

I had slept really well that night, after a day in the sun and on the Bay Course playing a round with Alistair.

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Teeing off on the first hole on the Bay Course in Kapalua, Maui

It had been a bit weird when we found out we were playing with strangers.

More so when ‘Denise’ was kicking all of our asses with her long drives, pars and birdies.

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View towards our Ritz-Carlton Kapalua from just off the 4th green on the Bay Course

After 7 strokes I picked up my ball on the 1st hole.

The 2nd didn’t go much better.

But I breathed and I relaxed and I laughed and we all got lost in our parade of golf carts (following Denise!!!) and I felt some Aloha wash over me and nothing mattered because we were on a sunny island in the middle of the Pacific.

And then I played golf.

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View towards our 3rd floor room from the green on the 3rd hole… where I remembered how to play golf

Denise later fessed up to being the Kansas state ladies golf champ 7 years running after learning to play from her professional golfer father at the age of 3.

I didn’t feel so bad after that.

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Signature hole on the Bay Course, a par 3 that plays along the ocean. A bit distracting but beautiful nonetheless

We played 2 more rounds, including one on the famed Plantation Course where the PGA had just wrapped up the Tournament of Champions.

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All smiles as we were about to get our butts spanked on the Plantation Course!

We played alone on the enormous, undulating, grueling course.

Which was great when we found a ton of golf balls embedded in the ground on the 5th fairway!

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Absolutely stunning views from the Plantation Course

How to make a Scotsman and a Doukhobor happy!

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Happy Scotsman posing after his drive cleared the ravine and landed just off the green

Rejuvenated, relaxed, expecting to play with others and humbled by the Plantation Course a few days prior, we hit the Bay Course in our fancy new duds one more time the day before we left.

We played with ‘Matt’ from Chicago and the 3 of us were very well matched in golf play and colorful language.

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Fancy Schmancy duo on the 17th tee at the Bay Course just before sunset

And all of this was maybe more enjoyable because I had got rid of my mental baggage that 2nd night in our hotel room when I thought I had slept so well.

When we woke up before going on the whale watching tour Alistair asked me, “Do you remember anything from last night?”

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The tee box view from the Bay Course’s signature 5th hole

That’s not a question a sleepwalker wants to hear.

A sleepwalker whose most recent wanderings led to the closing of her clinic and a new approach to her mental, physical and emotional health 2 years ago.

Alistair had woken up around 2am to a steady knocking at the door.

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The Ritz Carlton Kapalua… apparently I needed this!

And I wasn’t in bed.

Or in the bathroom.

He cautiously answered the door to find me blankly staring at him from the resort hallway.

Did I mention I was naked?

At 2am.

In the hallway of the Ritz.

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the power of Maui…

There is such a feeling of loss (of time, memory) and of being cheated (by myself!) after I learn I’ve slept walked.

And of course the wondering… where did I go? Did I meet people? I’m sure they were nice to me because I was naked but seriously, how long was I gone and what did I do?

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Kapalua Coastline in front of our resort…. good thing I didn’t wander far that night!

But that is all a part of who I am and the journey I’m on and how I learn about myself and how I handle things like stress.

So we laughed.

What else can you do?

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Calming tidepools off the shores of Kapalua

One of the reasons we enjoy the Hawaiian islands and the spirit of Aloha so much is because our lives on ranches with animals in 2 different states is challenging at times.

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Saying farewell to the day, Hawaiian-style

 

Hawaii is a real escape where we can play golf in January and watch whales and wear shorts and sandals and have bare skin and eat incredible seafood and hike coastal paths and play with sea urchins and look up at a dormant volcano on a clear day.

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Hawaiian flora and fauna

Its also where I can get a mean mai tai just about anywhere and that also is a key to my affection for Hawaii.

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Maui Mai Tai

Now its back to the snow and Casey’s floppy laryngeal fold and a barn kitty who isn’t limping and blind Loki pin-balling her way around the house and frost in the mornings and a second book to write and frozen mahi mahi to cook.

I love this adventure I’m on.

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Watching 2 feral kittens play in the bushes by the ocean

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Alistair at the Dragon’s Teeth formations of wind- and water-whipped lava

 

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Even managed a book event and a few sales at Sandy Pages in Kihei (with Rod, the owner)

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Our Ritz-Carlton Kapalua pool area in the morning

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Loving the journey I’m on and the guy who chose to go on it with me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Post Script… for Harry and hubby

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Alistair and “the kids” enjoying the beauty of Montana last winter

In my self absorbed grief and sadness last week I didn’t put any pictures of Alistair and Harry on my blog.

I had meant to.

I had uploaded several.

It was an oversight rather than a conscious act.

Grief can do that to a person.

In thinking about it I also realized that I didn’t highlight Alistair’s unique relationship with Harry and the other dogs.

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Harry and his Dad

When I used to work full time and Alistair came here for his 2 week stretches, he often would hike, snowshoe or go horseback riding with the dogs.

Harry would silently sneak up on Dad on the trail and follow or herd him (if he wasn’t watching after UB or Casey).

The 2 of them developed this “man” thing that I never could appreciate… for obvious reasons.

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“Its a guy-thing, Mummy”

Alistair would stop for a pee break and Harry would come up right next to him.

He would look up at Alistair and then down at the ground.

Up.

Then down.

Not seconds after Alistair finished, Harry would then ‘mark’ it himself.

None of the other dogs ever did this or showed any interest. I think Cleo, like me, was kind of confused by the whole ‘marking’ thing.

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More Montana treks with the gang

That’s not the only type of bonding the 2 of them did.

I often caught Harry sneaking in for some one-on-one time with Alistair when nobody else was around.

And Alistair happily gave Harry every scritch he had time for before Casey would come bounding up to mow them both over.

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The pack, last fall

So its getting easier each day as all of us make sense of Harry not being here.

I’ve received so  many heartfelt comments and thoughts about our big boy.

Many of my veterinary classmates shared memories (usually of Harry spinning) as he was another member of the class way back in 3rd year.

Instead of crying this time I’m smiling as I write this thinking of the wonderful years we had after I brought him home from school.

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Harry and Mouse earlier this winter

And thankful that all of these fascinating spirits got to meet Harry and know him for his Woo Woos and his marking and his spinning and his inability to be house-trained and his little kisses and his trust and his inability to understand what ‘fetch’ was and his flopping over so you could scritch him and his harmonizing with the wolves and his gentle, quiet, big, kind ways.

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Happy Fyfe Dogs last winter

Alistair, in particular.

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2 special boys

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Harry