Savvy Women

Just like Bonita Hicks, I’ve always been a collector, going all the way back to my childhood when I had a couple of albums that I filled with colorful postage stamps. For years, I steamed those little buggers off envelopes and then pasted them down in their appropriate spots. It pains me to report that that old collection was lost some time ago, which is not surprising given the number of boxes of stuff I’ve had stored away with relatives while I’ve been roaming about in recent years.

Despite that loss, I still collect things. Recently, I’ve been into buying owl figurines. I have quite a group now, from many different countries and made of all sorts of materials. I began this collection a few years ago shortly after having a very interesting run in with a member of that species while out walking in the woods very late in the afternoon on a cold, wintry day. I’ll never forget that meeting. Woodsy stared at me, and I stared at him. We just stood there, like that, for a few moments until we both sort of lost interest and then I walked away. Shortly after that encounter, I went out and bought my very first owl.

Now, going back to the video, I have to say that I just get this warm feeling while watching Bonita talk about her Santas. I think that feeling is at least partly due to her saying that she hopes people learn an important lesson from her collection. She wishes that those who’ve seen it would just find a way to “enjoy themselves more.”

After watching the video, I got curious and went on the Internet and found this site and this one. I’m not surprised to learn that there are others out there who share Bonita’s love.

I want to finish by wishing everyone a Happy Holidays!

Troy Headrick
The American University in Cairo
Maadi, Cairo, Egypt
contact@savvy-women-magazine.com

Quick preview. This video is about dogs–old ones–that wear really cool sunshades.

Watching it reminded me of my mom. I guess I’m easily reminded of her right now because it’s that time of year when I’m preparing to fly back home, to Texas, for summer vacation.

My mother is the proud owner of two dachshunds, or as I prefer to say, two kielbasas (hold the mustard).

The two beasts in question are named Lilli and Harper. I’m not for sure what inspired my mother to name Lilli Lilli, but she has told me that Harper was named after Harper Lee, author of her all-time favorite book, To Kill a Mockingbird.

I know that my timing is off by a few weeks, but let’s go ahead and think of this blog as my Mother’s Day present. HAPPY LATE MOTHER’S DAY, MOM!!!

Every summer there’s always a period of adjustment whenever I arrive at my mother’s house from whatever far-flung place I’ve been living. Of course, I always have jetlag and reverse culture shock those first few days until my body and mind become acclimated. By far, the biggest adjustment of all, though, is getting used to being around those two sleek hounds again. Conversely, it always takes a little while for them to get reacquainted with me.

Those first few days right after my arrival are always tricky. During this period, the dogs are apt to bark wildly every single time I emerge from the bedroom where I stay when I’m visiting. Their little doggie brains just can’t seem to process what it means to have a stranger (a tall one with a deep voice!) in the house. I often catch them in the act of sneaking up on me, extending their noses toward my legs, and then giving me ye ole sniff of inspection. Of course, I see this as the epitome of rudeness. How would they feel if I tiptoed up to them and repeatedly inhaled in their general direction?

My mother does not think of Lilli and Harper as dogs. In fact, she doesn’t even call them dogs. She refers to them as “short people,” and with legs that measure right at four inches long, I’d have to say her description is apt, at least as concerns the shortness bit.

Observing my mother interact with those short people reminds me of the time when my brother and I were young (and short) and living at home. Every summer I invariably overhear my mother say something to the dogs like “NO FIGHTING!” and immediately have one of those strange, déjà vu experiences. It’s really weird to hear my mother saying the same things to Lilli and Harper that she used to say to the two of us. It’s like having the opportunity to be a third party to my own upbringing.

I’ve never asked my mother about this, but I think she got the dogs because she is one of those mothers who somehow developed an addiction to mothering, so when the house got empty, she had to fill it again with “people” who needed her. There was a craving there that had to be satisfied.

I think this summer, when I go back home, I’ll ask her about my theory and about why she seems to need those hairy midgets so much…