My favorite part of camping is waking up at dawn with pine trees and blue sky looking down on me.  Our tent has these windows in the roof top so you can see patches of sky.  I open my eyes looking up at the pine trees swaying overhead and I feel content and complete, all snug in my sleeping bag. The tent is always all zipped up, so our dog Molly cannot get out during the night - not that she would, I think she is afraid of the night time noises outside. In the morning she will be all curled in a little nest behind my knees (an onion bunion as my mom calls it) and then she will stretch out her skinny legs and yawn, her tongue curling out slowly, her face pointed upwards.

Setting up camp holds an excitement of its own.  As we cruise through the campground to find the perfect spot, I observe established sites who have already staked their claims with bins full of bags of chips and marshmallows and boxes of graham  crackers and pancake mix.  Small stacks of wood, camp stoves and red and blue ice chests litter the site, fishing poles are propped against trees and kids are breaking in the grounds riding on their bycicles.  Campers wave as we go by, any walls of distrust having been disolved in the atmosphere of natural creation. Everything in the campground feels new and alive. I contemplate the fact that with each new week the camp will be filled with new campers and different tents, but the feeling of community, temporary as it may be, will be the same.

Camping itself is a lot of work - there's the preparation, the long haul to get there, locating a spot that is not crowded yet still has the needed facilities, and the worst part is the clean up.  But all of that hard work is enjoyable to me. I even enjoy walking down to the campground restroom where I can soak in the camp village. As I walk down the path I hear a hawk overhead, I look around and see older men sitting in the shade of their RV porches, reading the US News and World Report or their Fishing magazine. Women puttering about their new-made outdoor kitchens, organizing or tidying up after breakfast.  I notice the occasional satelite dish set-up and see a few people lurking about trying to get their cell phones in range.

There is nothing quite as tasty as a meal created in the outdoors. I like to plan ahead, but I always seem to forget something. It could be the seasoning salt, paper towels, mixing bowl or sugar (God forbid I forget the eggs or bacon, or a bottle of wine though) - but the meal always somehow turns out great no matter what I have forgotten. In the morning, the smells of bacon and eggs, pancakes, sausage cooking on the neighbors stoves is enough to get me out of the warm tent, put on my sweats and stand in front of a small fire with a steaming cup of coffee in my hand.

I always imagine the Native Americans and mountain men of the past stopping on their treks through the woods with the same mountains and trees and rocks looking upon them, just as they look upon me. I can feel their spirits in the woods, peaceful and calm, soaking in nature and making everything good again. The serenity of the woods and of nature itself is my remedy to the daily world of constant activity and stress. It is what I meditate on when I am feeling overwhelmed. It is my God.

 My front porch is all ready for spring.  All I have to do now is go down to the nursery and buy flowers, herbs and grasses to plant in my pots.  I am going to plant rosemary, thyme, basil, catmint, geraniums, narsturtiums and some grasses.  I already have a small azalia and a gardenia, a camelia, a wonderful clematis ready to bloom any day, and a japanese maple that we've had almost 10 years in a large pot.  Every year I think it is dead, but it always comes forth with healthy maroon colored leaves billowing over the pot.  It looks barren now, but I'm sure it will come through for me again.

Shabby Chic porchSad looking Japanese Maple - I hope I didn't kill it this yearDaisy, deciding what to doMolly's got her stick and she's happy

Today I cleaned out all of the dried up plants from last year, swept away all of the cobwebs and dust, freshened up the cushions on the chairs, and filled up the bird feeders.  My mind is racing with ideas of all I want to plant in my pots and how I am going to spend more time on the porch enjoying the birds, reading, and even napping. 

It is very peaceful out there, especially in the mornings.  Cars rarely drive by - we only have 4 neighbors on the little lane that we live on.  The lane meanders down a slope, nestled in a grove of oak trees.  The squirrels and the birds are very busy each morning, chattering and leaping about.  The gray squirrels fight with the scrub jays and I often see the squirrels jump from one tree to another, making the trees sway with their activity.  The birds make an urgent racket, scolding the squirrels with their squaking and chirping.  The yellow finches twitter about on the bird feeder.

While I was cleaning and sweeping the porch I had left the front door open.  I was distracted and realized that I hadn't been checking on my cat Daisy, who is an indoor only cat (she comes outside with me when she's lucky, but never on her own). I remembered seeing her all curled up on the couch, so I took a peek - she was gone.  I looked on the porch - no kitty.  I walked through the house - all of the bedroom doors had been closed but I took a quick look in each room, even the bathrooms.  I started calling her, my voice getting a little worried.  My puppy Molly followed me around, eager to go and play with a stick - but alerted to the concern in my voice.  We walked all through the yard, looked under the house and up the trees.  The neighbor boys up on the street behind were playing ball with their dog and another neighbors dogs, one of which is a pit bull.  I had visions of Daisy running to hide - perhaps under the back porch, or in a neighbors yard. We went back into the house, panic was starting to get it's grip on me.  Molly stood outside the door to my office, looking up at me with her tail wagging.  So I asked her "what?" and she muffled a small "ruff".  I opened the door, and there was Daisy, sitting on the chair looking up at me. 

As I sit here and type, Daisy is very happily cuddled on my lap, purring and looking up at me with her content green eyes.  Occassionally she nudges her head backwards against me and extends her claws into my lap with a little "mew" of affection.  Molly is sleeping behind me on the floor, her tug toy, mangled and damp, limp beside her.  She is tired from a nice long day full of walks, playing. sneaking the cat's food, chasing the broom, playing catch, and sneaking past me on the porch with a stick that she will try to eat.

Let me introduce you to Molly, the newest member to my little family.  Molly is a Border Collie and my husband and I are completely smitten by her.  She is charming, cute, sassy, funny, energetic, and smart all rolled up into one lovable little puppy.

I have been wanting a puppy for awhile now.  We lost our beloved Sam (Lhasa Apso we had for 17 years) a year and a half ago.  It took me a few months to get over losing Sam, but Glen still wasn't ready for a puppy commitment yet.  I was very patient.

One Saturday when Glen was out and about he called me and told me about a neighbor who had some Wolf Mix puppies.  He found one he liked and thought I would be pleased to adopt one.  I hesitantly said OK I will come and look - not wanting to crush his hopes.  But I knew deep inside that a wolf puppy would not be good for us.  I kept thinking about the half wild nature, the hunting instinct and the close link to an actual wolf who you probably cannot train.  One step away from being a wild animal. I could not bare the thought of this beautiful but potentially dangerous animal in my house, with my precious cat Daisy.  Or from hurting a child or other visitor to our home.  The puppy was very pretty.  I asked the "breeder" questions and when I asked him about shots he said "oh and I wouldn't mention to the vet that she is 3/4 wolf - just tell them she is 1/6th wolf".  And I said, is it illegal to have a wolf mix dog, he said no, but wise not to let on that you do.

We got out of there without a puppy, needless to say - telling them we would "think about it".  The minute we got home though, I was on the prowl for a puppy - while Glen was still thinking about that little wolf.  I had been dreaming of an Australian Shepperd for a couple months, but only found an ad for Border Collie pups.  After seaching for information on Border Collies, I realised that a Border Collie was what I really wanted (and I really really wanted one that was brown and white with blue or green eyes).  I called, they were home and we went right over - it was a little drive - but well worth it.  The perfect little puppy came running towards me and that was that.

We drove off $200.00 poorer, not sure how our scared little puppy would act, and very excited.  We stopped at Wal-Mart and I got aquanted with our girl in the car while Glen went and bought some puppy food for her.

That was almost 3 months ago, and she has lit up our world ever since.  I never thought we would turn into one of those couples who brag about their dog like it's a child - but that is what we have become.  We laugh about it, but we can't help it - she is that cute!

She starts puppy classes tomorrow night.  I can't wait to share stories of little Molly Malone - she has already established herself as a little terror.