She is my dancing queen ...

Zoe had her first ballroom dance class tonight, and she had an absolute blast. I can't believe it was her first time -- she looked and acted as if she'd been doing it for years!

The instructor Mike whirled and twirled her around the floor for a full 45 minutes, teaching her the basics of five dances. Her favorite? The swing. Especially the rock step.

It was fun to watch. A smile never left her face, or mine for that matter.

We go back on Tuesday for more of the same. And if Zoe has anything to say about it, we'll soon be regulars at the studio's group classes and Friday night parties!

Cue the music. The girl's ready to DANCE!

The kindness of strangers

Sometimes in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day, people surprise you.

Such was the case this evening, when during Invisible Fence Training Session #2 for my dear dog, a stranger stopped by. Actually, he roared up in a big red diesel 4x4 pickup.

Turns out, he was a firefighter. And not just any firefighter, but one of the ones who came to my aid on Feb. 22 when I fell on ice in my driveway and busted my leg (also courtesy of above-mentioned dog. Ahem.)

He was in the neighborhood to visit a friend, drove by, saw me "teaching" Lucy, saw the cast on my leg and decided to stop and say hi and see how I was doing. Turns out the "fire run" that was my leg-breaking accident was pretty memorable for the whole Lebanon Fire Department crew that showed up at my house that cold February Sunday.

"I don't do deformities well," he said quite frankly, "and while we're not supposed to tell people how awful their situation appears, all I wanted to say that day was 'Geez, that's AWFUL and how did you twist your foot around like THAT!' That was a bad break."

Indeed it was ... but these many weeks later, with this really nice firefighter standing in my yard and showing genuine concern for how I was doing today, the leg felt (and feels) pretty good.

I thanked him for his on-the-job efforts and for stopping by. I also asked him to pass along my thanks to his buddies, who've apparently talked about my splayed-out-on-the-icy-driveway incident amongst themselves from time to time. :)

And then he was off.

Sometimes, in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day, people demonstrate kindness that you don't expect.

What a nice surprise.

It's a dog's life

Just when you think you have perhaps the most UNtrainable dog in the world, along comes the beauty of an Invisible Fence.

Yes, I invested in one. Yes, I believe it's worth it. Yes, my disobedient dog is heeding its beeps. So far. And here's hoping that come Day 2 of "training central" that she gets that the flags in the yard = shocking results if she dares to cross the line.

OK, so call me a hard ass. But enough is enough when it comes to digging out of the back yard and wandering the neighborhood. This comes as a welcome surprise to my judge of a neighbor, who just this weekend reminded me that dog without a leash is a dog worth sending to the pound with the aid of the appropriate animal control authories.

After I muttered a polite "bite me" as I walked away, I chastised myself for waiting six years -- yes I've lived in THIS house with THIS dog for SIX years -- to finally keep my dog in my own yard.

And tonight, Zoe and I ventured into the front yard with Lucy the miniature daschund in tow, decked out in her full "training regalia." Pink collar with fence transmitter; padded harness with leash attached, in a lovely matching purple color. (A girl's gotta pay attention to her apparel, even in dogland.)

I'm pleased to report that she not only listened to the beeping warnings that the fence emitted, but she also turned away from it and retreated to the safe zone of the front yard, just like the training video said she should. Who knew it was this easy?

So I'm patting myself on the back right now. And Lucy earned herself a few bites of leftover chicken nugget for being such a good dog.

Tomorrow, it's more training in different parts of the yard. And hopefully, the rabbit contingent that occupies the vacant field behind our house won't lure her into being her "true self."

Do me a favor, Favre...

I'm not a huge football fan, by any stretch of the imagination. Sure, I follow the Colts and a few other teams (or QB butts) that I enjoy watching on the big screen TV.

But when I read this stupid story in a stupid sports blog about stupid Brett Favre today, I just had to say something. To someone. Anyone, in fact, who will listen!

Brett Favre, the once-golden QB at Green Bay, needs to shut his mouth and move on with his life. Period. He's talking to Minnesota now about ANOTHER return to the NFL -- so he can get revenge on the Packers? Oh for God's sake.

Enough whining. Enough nit picking. Enough of his crap, period!

He had a long and storied career with the Packers. And then he got pissy about getting old.

Get over it already, Brett! We all age ... and right now, I'm thinking I'm doing a pretty damn good job of it, if I use the Favre barometer.

As this sports blogger writes, maybe Favre SHOULD go back on the field at Minnesota and see what kinds of stats he can put on the board. Forced (spiteful) throws = interceptions (deserved) galore.

It would serve him right.

In memory of Grandma Bee

May 3 would have been my Grandma Bender's 92nd birthday.

I think about her almost daily and have a beautiful picture of her and Zoe on my desk at work, courtesy of my sister ... and when the calendar changed months today, it was a bittersweet reminder that Granny Bee is gone. She passed away last June after years of suffering with Alzheimer's and Parkinson's.

Her name, in case you're wondering, is a throwback to her days as a companion beekeeper and more to my Grandpa, who was -- among other things -- a master honey maker, antique collector, woodworker and all-around salesman. They were Granny and Grandpa Bee for as long as I can remember. They even signed birthday cards that way.

I spent some time today going through pictures from a DVD my sister created for Granny's funeral. I grabbed a few of my favorites and share just one of them here, just because. That beautiful black-and-white photo was taken by my Uncle Larry when I was about 3 or 4, and we were at Granny and Grandpa's lake cabin on Raccoon Lake in Parke County.

She was a tough old bird, that lady! And the boxes full of pictures that my mom has waiting for us all to comb through are evidence of a rich, full, busy life. I'm thankful for the wonderful memories I have of growing up with her around for every part of my life.

She loved flowers. She loved family. She loved me. And I'm thankful that Zoe got to know her just a little.