Going Green

     I must admit, every time I hear the term "going green", I think about that scene in the movie, "Twister", when the series of tornadoes is about to hit. I can relate, living in Nebraska, to that scene so well. There's no other way to describe how everything really does go green. It's bizarre, and they actually were able to re-enact that pretty well in the movie. It's one of my favorite movies, without a doubt!

     But I'm not wanting to write about tornadoes today. My excitement about "going green" refers to the fact that we have just recently increased our recycling capacity. Before, we only recycled newspapers, aluminum cans, and the occasional cardboard box. Jim and I were pretty much in agreement: it's not that hard to take those items to the recycle bins behind our local grocery store every few months. (Especially since it was usually Jim doing it!) Still, there was always a part of me that felt like we could be doing more. I think we both wanted to do more... we were just holding out for the best deal, I guess. (Yes, that's right, I'm painting a clear picture for you: we wanted the cheapest, laziest way possible to do the recycling. Ugh, that sounds horrible... luckily, I know we're not the only ones who are in that boat!)

     So we got the call last week from the people who publish our local newspaper, saying they were having a special--they'd bring us a "tote" (cute word for big ugly plastic garbage can like the other ones we already have, only this one is, appropriately, green), and we can dump all of the stuff we want to recycle into it without having to separate it first, and for the first six months, it's available at an incredibly low cost. What? You mean you're going to give us a cheap option to be even more lazy AND we're going to feel GOOD about it? That's right, for a limited time, you too can help the environment without stepping further than your own driveway. Coool!!!!  

     Okay, I know I'm sounding pessimistic... I'm just amazed at how little I was willing to do before we got that green tote. Saving cans and newspapers? The absolute minimum. Seriously. Today was the first full day we've had that tote, and I recycled a milk jug, a large juice bottle, about 10 old magazines, an old prescription bottle (with all the information marked out with a Sharpie), two used water bottles, and a yogurt cup, along with today's paper and two pop cans. Let me tell you, I feel GOOD about this! Beer bottles and wine bottles, old chocolate syrup containers, ice cream buckets, soup and tuna cans, etc. It seems like the possibilities are limitless. I'm so pumped! 

     I started recycling as a kid. We didn't drink as much pop, growing up, as Jim and I do now. It was mostly on special occasions that we'd get 10 or 12 cans of Shasta in the house (mmm, Black Cherry and Dr. Diablo were my favorites!), but we had enough beer cans to keep me busy. Every few days, I'd take the cans out to the garage, squash them with my feet, and toss them into an old garbage can (the original steel kind, like you see Oscar the Grouch living in) lined with a black plastic bag. When that bag got full (after a few months), I'd tie off the top, put a new bag in, and keep going. About once a year, maybe twice if I was lucky, I'd point out to my Dad that we had several bags of cans to turn in. Since I was the one who took the cans out and crushed them, I was the one who got the money for them. We'd make a trip into the closest town with a recycling center (my hometown didn't have one), and the guys would weigh out my bags. It usually got me about seven bucks, though I do remember earning $11 one time! I was pumped! This was typically enough bread to get me a new record (vinyl) or maybe even a new Barbie (since they only released new models of Barbies about once or twice a year). 

     Nowadays, I have to PAY to recycle, but I'm done playing with Barbies and I don't have a turntable anymore, anyway. So it's all good.....

Bubba

I don't think I've devoted much, if any, space here on my blog to our sweet little puppy. We had a dog when the girls were very little (Phoebe, a black lab/retriever mix), but she was too big for our small house/yard, so we gave her to some friends who lived out in the country, on a big farm. She lived there, very happily, for many years. During that time, we discovered Josie is not only allergic to cats (as are Jim and I), but she's also allergic to dogs. Once we moved to our current home, we thought, "Someday, we'll find the right kind of dog--one Josie won't be allergic to."

In the meantime, Donovan came along. We were a busy, happy little family with our two daughters and one son. Every now and then, we would get to thinking about having a dog, but it was just never the right time. About a year, maybe a year and a half ago, though, we started to think about it a bit more seriously. We knew we'd need to wait until Donovan was potty-trained, and, like I'd said, we'd want to find a "hypo-allergenic" dog.

In October of this past fall, we finally found the perfect dog--a Bichon Frise puppy. Plus, a month or so before, we'd heard that Phoebe had died, out on the farm. We were saddened to hear of her passing, but it felt like it was a sign that we could move on. So, Jim, Josie and Donovan went to "meet" the puppy, to make sure Josie wouldn't have any bad reactions to him--of course, they fell in love!

So, we've had Bubba (a name I probably wouldn't have chosen for him, but I can appreciate irony as much as the next person, and it fits him now) for just over five months, and he is definitely a part of the family. I'd have to say he's a Momma's boy, which makes sense since I spend the most time with him (being a stay-at-home-mom). We haven't taken him to puppy training or anything like that... I think it's still up in the air whether we will or not. He's a good boy, though, and he behaves pretty well without "official training".

After I took him in to get groomed, he looked so malnourished, I've been afraid to do it again!

One of my favorite things about him is the way he sometimes does this kind of hop-run, when he's really in a hurry--our back yard is pretty big, so he's got a lot of room to run around. Normally, he'll do the alternate leg thing (y'know, right front paw goes at the same as left rear paw, and left front paw moves in time with right rear paw). But when he's in a hurry, his front paws move in sync and his rear paws move in sync, so it kind of looks like he's hopping or leaping along. So totally cute!

I also love the way he attacks certain things. He's really a very sweet, gentle dog, but he is still a puppy and there's definitely a part of him that feels like he needs to be fierce. There are three items, in particular, that he will attack. His bed (really just a big doggie pillow), his little blue elephant (it always seems like he's punishing the elephant for something!), and his big green squeaky toy. We have to put the squeaky toy up in the evenings, when the girls are working on homework or we're trying to watch TV, because the loud squeaks combined with his intense growling... it's funny for a minute, then it's annoying trying to hear over it!

Took this one today--can you tell he needs a haircut? But he's so adorable!

He also does this cute thing with his paws, either while sitting on his hind legs, or while lying on his side, where he waves both his front paws together repeatedly... Almost like he was flipping through folders in a file cabinet. When he's on his hind legs, he'll do it sitting, or he kind of stands and hops for a while, upright, while doing it. It's really cute. I think it's his "Come play with me, pay attention to me" move.

My absolute favorite thing is snuggling with Bubba. I'm a napper. I've always been a napper, even as a kid. Whenever I can squeeze one in, I will. Oftentimes, I'll lie down on the couch, get all cozy with my favorite pink fleece blanket, and here comes Bubba! He climbs right up on me, stepping where he may, and he'll sometimes lie right on top of me. I nuzzle his hair a bit, and then he'll look into my face for a bit before doing one of those reverse sniffs dogs do. (He sniffs in a bit, then blows right back out, with a little more force.) Most times, though, he'll curl up at my feet or between my chest and my arm, and I'll pet him 'til I drift off to sleep. He's my Bubba!