Maybe it is too soon, and that is why you are having trouble with this very sad task. Maybe it would be better to wait a little while, when the pain isn't so fresh, and you are able to be open to inspiration. I was thinking that a shadowbox with a lock of her hair tied with a ribbon on which you letter her name, her collar, a picture of her, maybe her favorite toy or treat> It wouldn't have to be a large one, and could hang anywhere. You might even make a small stained glass piece to attach to the front of the glass on one corner with her name, maybe? Another wonderful memorial would be to check with your local shelter and see if they have a place to donate money in your pet's name. You could pledge to donate a small amount every year on the date that you brought her into your family, perhaps. What a great testimony to your love and hers, by providing for other animals to live on and be a part of a family too.

What a variety of memories here.... Funeral blue, l love that! Yes, friend and I were flabbergasted, shocked, amazed--- take your pick from the thesaurus under "astounded." The backstory is even weirder. My father had a massive stroke at age 60 and never walked or spoke again. He lived nine years longer, seven at home with a live in male nurse and the last two in a nursing home. He always wanted his body to go to Emory medical school, where our family has many ties, as a cadaver in the anatomy lab. When making the arrangements after his death, the school told us they would cremate the body after they were finished with it for educational use and send the ashes back. I was the only one who actually wanted them so it was agreed they would come to me. But a year later the were FedExed to my brother by mistake. Said brother called me to let me know he was forwarding them, but had decided that he wanted to keep a portion of the ashes himself. For some reason that struck me as the oddest thing...to say there had been lifelong sibling rivalry between us would be a gross understatement, and I felt at the time that he was just making sure I did not get something that he didn't also have. And a year later he was also dead, very suddenly and unexpectedly, of a heart attack. And that's when I found the filed ashes in the ziplock bag. Too bad I didn't find them before I delivered the eulogy at his funeral.... talk about an ice breaker. We finally settled on a columbarium in a beautiful mountain garden for both my father's and brother's ashes. But none of the rest of the fam knows I still have my share!

I'm like you jyg - I had knee surgery in 2004 and can't get up and down as easily as I used to for those "low cleaning areas" and find I don't have as much stamina (or maybe it's energy) Consequently I prefer a little notice before someone drops by. I still haven't caulked the baseboards from my remodel that was finishing up before the surgery. But, I do know this. Most people don't notice a little clutter and dust. I cannot ever recall going into anyones home and coming away with the memory of "my God, what a mess!!" reaction. A home is to be lived in and if your friends and family can't overlook that then they don't need to be visiting anyway. IMO. So don't stress over it.

I didn't know my paternal grandparents. My grandpa died several years before I was born, and my grandma when I was a baby. I did know my maternal grandparents and have lots of memories. They loved to garden. The house that I remember them living in most of my life had the yard totally surrounded by mostly peonies and iris', but also tulips, ferns, and a bed of old fashioned mixed perennials. They also had a vegetable garden and a row of gooseberry bushes. I think this is where my love of gardening comes from :-) Grandpa played Slap Jack with us kids. If you don't know what that is, it's a card game where the dealer turns over one card at a time. Everyone stays ready, and if the card is a Jack, tries to 'slap' it. The person who slaps it first, wins the pile of cards. The person who wins the most cards, wins the game! Grandma made jam out of ripe gooseberries. She's the only person I ever knew who did anything with them other then make green gooseberry pie. Her cooking specialties were applesauce cake and divinity, which she made in HUGE amounts every Christmas season. She made them for all the kids (6) and grandkids (17) but not the greats (30+) every year. She'd stir up a huge batch of cake. She used applesauce as one of the 'wet' ingredients, but if she didn't have enough applesauce it didn't matter. She's just substitute some canned pears, or maybe even some tomato juice. Didn't matter what she used, it always ended up tasting like applesauce cake and was always good. And then after she poured out enough cakes from her batch of batter, she'd start adding more flour and would end up with a batch of applesauce cookies too! My mom was born in 1917 weighing only a little over 2 pounds. She was born at home and it was a miracle she lived, back in those days. I remember Grandma telling how she was up, holding on to the back of a chair, and sweeping the kitchen when Mom was only a week old. Someone stopped to visit and told her she was going to regret doing that. Grandma was in her upper 70s or maybe 80s when she was telling this story. I remember her saying she was still waiting to see when she was going to regret it!!! Grandma collected salt and pepper shakers, so she always received a lot of them as gifts. She used to put the name of the person who gave her a gift on the bottom of the item, saying 'you'll get this back some day'. We, being young, would say 'Oh Grandma...' and she'd say 'Well, I'm gonna die someday, you know!' Grandpa had emphysema. He smoked only briefly, as a young man, but somehow he ended up with emphysema. He was on oxygen full time, and confined to bed when I was in my last years of high school. When I married, at 18, he decided he was going to get himself well enough to 'walk' me down the aisle. He did it too! My mom pushed him, in his wheelchair, oxygen tank and all, and he walked me into the church and down the aisle! What a miracle! There are so many stories, but I'll stop here. I loved my Grandma and Grandpa. I still do.