The past couple of days have been tough on the heart. Just a day after we found out Dexter's best friend, Mastodon the Bull Mastiff, had to be put to rest, I learn my old pup, Gus, back on the farm, may be nearing the end of his own life. As much as I will always love my pets, this will never get easier with time.


When we grow old with our pets, they become our constant companions, and often times our "thunder buddy" and best friend. There's something about our pets that make us better people.


They teach us how to care and nurture for another being, how to develop trust and understanding, and most importantly how to love and be loved by someone and something entirely different from who we are.

I really do love our little wedding story. Our relationship in general has been pretty magical since we first met, combining our love for nature, animals, good friends, good food and of course, our similar-views on worlds-end-post-apocalyptic survival tactics. (The threat of zombies is of course, one of the many reasons I've turned to nature and holistic healing as not just an art and hobby but as a way of life. I want to be prepared to care for my husband and family no matter what obstacles may come crawling our way). It's true. Our individual nerdiness found it's match within each other and that, right there, is why we fell in love. Definition of a soul mate? I think so.

Our story starts as most fairy-tales seem to do... two lost souls wandering the streets of Providence in search of hope and a good time between the long days and late nights of the local food and service scene...

Long story short, we met at a bar. But not just any bar, we met at The Wild Colonial Tavern, a place we both frequented with friends each week. It was our home away from home. He would spend his nights sipping White Russians around the pool table, unknowing to the possibility of destiny standing before his eyes as his future wife; covered in coffee stains and not at all trying to hide the lurking sour-milk stench that comes along with working in a coffee shop, got her frustrations of the workday out through a habitual game of darts while chugging away at a 22oz bottle of Oaked Arrogant Bastard. Yes, those were the days. (No wonder I ended up with a gluten intolerance).

I remember turning around after a horrible throw, those bright spotlights over the dartboards beaming into my eyes as I look down and exchange a glance with this handsome lad in a Gear's of War beanie from across the room. Totally one of those "love at first sight" hold-eye-contact-for-awkwardly-too-long moments that happened in the blink of an eye and then shook off with another quick sip of the beverage and continuing conversation amongst coworkers who were of course, hanging around the bar for the very same reasons. It wasn't until months later, after both realizing we had some mutual friends to prod info about ("Hey do you know that girl?" "What's that kids story, do you know his name?") that we finally exchanged a few words of conversation.

Those were his famous first words ever spoken to me. He was, of course, referring to my playing cards that had pretty purple and blue flowers and the word ALASKA written across the backs of them, given to me by my very own Eskimo of a friend before returning back to her native winter-wonderland of a state in the northwest, a state which I recently found out can fit 425 Rhode Islands within it. Anyway....

As my long-time best friend stepped away for the longest minute of my life from our not-so-intense game of rummy, the dude himself took the opportunity to set down his drink, take a deep breath and conquer his fears with 30 seconds of courage and bravery, to approach the unapproachable with these life-changing four words:

"Ever been to Alaska?"

Yes. these were his heart-winning words to "break the ice."

Well played, my love.

I recently read an article about antibiotics in meats and how so many people are turning away from them. While I agree that buying natural is better, I also learned a bit about this topic as well. Yes, there are some companies that are known to pump antibiotics and other various growth-promoting hormones into their livestock throughout the animals entire life, but the truth is, all it takes is for a single dose of antibiotic to change the meats licensing and labeling.


For instance, let's say during a cows first year he gets an eye infection. This is common for young calves as they graze through fields during humid weather where the air is thick and manure particles more apt to settle within the blades of grass. That calf then has to be rounded up and injected with an antibiotic to ease the infection before it spreads. Even if the cow remains totally healthy with no issues for the remaining years of his life, he is no longer considered “natural” because of ONE dose of antibiotics during his first year.

I hope you can see what I'm trying to get at. With all of the health food fads and phases, and the rise in awareness of healthy eating, people are quick to say “no” to foods that might not actually be that bad. Yes, do your research, learn where your meat comes from and care about how they are raised. By all means, go with what you believe to be the healthy choice. But also remember, not everything is as bad as it seems.