Purse Snatching

My heart is broken.

I made an adorable bag. The pattern was Amy Butler’s “Birdie Sling,” made from Fresh Aire fabrics. You’d love the red, yellow and orange flowers, and how the white background balances out the bold design of the flowers. The red floral handle is the perfect accent.

But you can’t see it. Last week while it hung on display, someone walked out the front door with my bag.

So from now on, I’m asking all of you to be on the lookout for this adorable, one of a kind purse. Maybe if we all work together, we can reunite my beloved bag with its true owner: me. So if, by a miracle of crafting miracles, you happen to run across it, follow these simple instructions:

Grab the bag.
Dump all her stuff on the ground.
Run away.

Your courage will make you a hero. Besides, what’s the worst she could do; accuse you of stealing her purse?

My Best Friend Monty

Monty is my Miniature Pinscher. He’s small and black and loves heights. When I put him on top of the entertainment center, his tail turns into a propeller. Sometimes I catch him sleeping inside my purse. Sometimes I catch him laying on the floor across the room doing nothing but staring at me. He’ll do this for hours.

Monty and I are made for each other. We have so much in common that if he were a person we would finish each other’s sentences.

We both hate the cold. We both love to look out the car window. He has a nervous bark; I have a nervous laugh. We both feel like we’re being picked on most of the time. And we’re both incredibly stubborn with a desire to be independent. But at the same time we just want someone big and strong to be sweet and take care of us.

Because of all this, we completely understand each other.

I know why he needs to be wrapped up in a blanket when he comes in from the snow. I know that he likes to be carried but doesn’t like to be captured, so to pick him up I crouch down very small and he comes right over. I know that such a small dog in such a big world can feel very alone, and it helps to be fed by hand every now and then.

In return, he understands that when I’m sad, he makes himself very small and crawls over to comfort me.

It’s a big world, and I need all the friends I can get.

Keeping Secrets

My family thinks I can’t keep a secret. Shows what they know. I’m like a crocodile. I lurk under the water, eyes peering, watching and waiting. Then BAM! Surprise!

They found out Sunday how good I am at surprises. Saturday was my brother’s birthday lunch. I didn’t say a word, just lurked and watched. I said to my mom, as nonchalant as can be, that I found something to bring her and asked if she’d be around the next day. So the plan was set in motion.

But first, a little back story:

Madagascar doesn’t make it into US news very often, even while the country’s been on the verge of civil war the last three months. My sister has been stationed in a village there, volunteering through the Peace Corps. They finally decided to evacuate the volunteers this month, so she was waiting for a flight out as rebels seized control of the nation’s army and surrounded the president’s palace with tanks.

After she made it out safely, we devised a plan not to tell our parents but to surprise them by having me bring her secretly from the airport. Everything was arranged. We kept testing the waters to see if our parents had heard of the evacuation in the news. Even Saturday at the birthday lunch they had no idea. So Sunday she was sitting by the front door when they came home.

Dad couldn’t get a complete sentence out. Mom’s jaw slacked when she looked over. Her arms fell and her purse dropped to the floor. It was like Christmas. Even I teared up. All in all, it was a good surprise.