Dogs

Since losing our wild child Rosie, we have changed our routine a bit. Besides trying to get out on the road walking to help Anna get into shape for her upcoming trip, we have been letting the two dogs loose in our back yard. Our back yard that is an 8 acre pasture and two ponds. 8 Acres that  has only electric fencing for the horses that visit in the summer.

It's been going pretty well. They zoom out of the gate and run down to check for ducks in the little puddle by the road, then run after them to the pond in the opposite corner. 

 This picture taken last fall, is of the seasonal pool in the middle that usually dries up completely in the summer. Right now it is filled with little tadpoles and growing grass that fools Boomer into thinking he can run across the far end. He chased Anna yesterday and it was like watching Wiley Coyote. Full tilt run from solid ground into a foot of water. I think he actually skimmed the surface for a second!

Anyway, the dogs have been surprisingly good, and we were pleased...until yesterday.  We called them back and Boomer showed up to be rubbed down and put in the back yard, but Anna disappeared, only to be seen running across the street to visit Snowball, the elderly lab next door. Snowball, the perfectly behaving dog that never leaves her yard. They had a brief sniff and visit and I brought Anna home.

Today we drove down to the library and took them for a walk from there, a brand-new experience for Boomer.  He usually runs right out to the car, so we had only Anna leashed as we left. Big mistake. He charged up to the two cats lounging out front and the scuffle resulted in 2 indignant cats escaping quickly, leaving Boomer with a mouthful of loose fur and a bleeding nose. Lesson learned? I hope so, but doubt it.

Since they were excited about the trip this morning we decided we would skip the pasture excursion today. Boomer goes out with me every morning to get the paper and is always very good. Out, pees on the way down the driveway, and back inside with me. Anna always sniffs him as he modestly comes back, trying not to rub his freedom in her face, but managing to convey his satisfaction with his solo outing.

Today he wanted to go out when I got the mail. I checked outside and no cats, so I let him out. Big mistake # 2. Down to the mailbox and halfway back was fine. Then I see him pause, prick up his ears and take off down the road. After an older gentleman with a baby in a stroller and a huge dog on a leash!  I think I may have mentioned Boomer's lack of social skills before- he snarls and charges up to any dog he meets, the bigger the better.  As I ran the hundred feet to retrieve him, I see him launch himself at the dog, who lunges to meet him, pulling the man sideways, tipping the stroller! Thank goodness his dog was well behaved (since mine isn't) and no one was hurt. He didn't have much to say, as I breathlessly apologized while trying to grab my obnoxious beast. Boomer knew I was annoyed and it took a minute for me to grab him. Then trying to lead him back while bending over to hold his collar, roughly a foot above the ground, was a treat. He twisted himself out of the collar but had the grace to accompany me home. He knew he was in disgrace and kept a low profile for the next hour or so.  Bad dog, bad bad dog.

Anna was on the chair in the living room watching out the front window and she gave me a look when I came in which was easy to read. "That's what you get for letting that little dip out, and not me."

Winter Fun

One of the bloggers I follow, Kelly from In Real Life, is training for a marathon and showed lovely pictures of her outdoor run. In the winter. In Canada. I salute her energy and determination, and I look forward to following her progress.

My own interactions with winter have had their highs and lows this year. The 'highs' I showed last week as I conquered Mt. Porchroof and cleared the slopes.

We left the ladder in place, partly in case we needed to rake the roof again, but mostly because we didn't feel like wrestling it out of the snow bank. The snow bank that I had made much bigger and that the dogs have decided is their preferred route on and off the porch.

 

They also like to pose up there, pretending to be Yukon King watching for Sgt. Preston, I presume. While I had to help that snow off, (thanks to us messing up the pitch while building the darn roof) a nearby shed roof took care of itself, unnoticed until ...dun dun dun..the Great Escape!  Sitting at my computer facing the porch window, I saw a flash of black from the corner of my eye. I looked up to see Boomer running towards the corner of the yard- the corner of the yard where the shed roof meets the fence! 

It was still too high for Boomer, but the other two were already out of sight. Anna and Rosie were on their way to the local sushi bar, right across the street. Jack Traps sells bait fish during the winter and I don't know if he dumped his dead fish, or customers left them, but there were frozen fish all around his giant ice trap flagpole, from minnow size to 5 or 6 inches long. Anna rolled, Rosie gulped. 

I grabbed a shovel and went to move a mountain of snow while Ameranth headed out to get them. Then she walked over the fence to tackle the other side. (That's a six foot fence, by the way) The 2 inch crust of ice that let the dogs stay on top was not enough to keep us from plunging thigh deep in snow as we shoveled. I trenched further along the fence as well, since I was there and I knew the successful escape would have Rosie trying again.

Sure enough, when we took them out back the first thing they did was run to the corner, then Rosie prowled the perimeter, raising her nose to assess the height. We thought she couldn't make it out and we were sorely mistaken. A few minutes later the other two let us know Rosie had flown the coop. Rosie now has her bathroom breaks on a 20-foot leash and I am hoping we have a thaw soon.

Ameranth and I had a hard time not taking this personally, seeing that we had all just come back from an off-leash walk in the woods. An off-leash walk that ended with the two huskies running into a low part of the field, out of sight, then popping up to cross the road into a neighbor's yard. Thank goodness the house is empty, since they were right up on the steps making themselves at home. 

Once more, we swore that they could never be allowed off leash again. At least not together- Anna is good at listening to Ameranth when she's alone.  Rosie gets her 'wolf look' and starts slinking away, pretending she doesn't hear a thing. Later she rests her head on my leg and promises she will never stray again. She needs a 12 step program. Actually, that's what she's on right now- she can take just about 12 steps on that 20-foot lead!

Apres Vacation

J's vacation week was not as productive as we hoped it would be. The first weekend was spent in RI at my niece's wedding, which went very well. This is my favorite shot, I don't think I ever saw her smile, but she did a mean stomp!

Almost smiling there, isn't she? And when she gave up, it was suddenly.

Wouldn't it be nice if it was acceptable for grownups to have strollers handy for little naps at social affairs? Mmm mmm.

Then the Rosie health issue sucked up our attention, energy and remodeling budget, so no progress was made inside the house. We did get some gardens cleaned up and lawns mowed, but that was about it. It is nice to see Rosie back to bouncing around- what we thought was maturity was apparently just feeling like crap.

Last Friday we drove down to Sectaur's to help with a couple of projects. We got off the highway as soon as we got into MA, and drove down Rte 1 to enjoy the scenery. I wish we had left a little more time to go further along the coast- it was a beautiful day for a ride. Taking 62 west was still nice, but started getting frustrating as we hit commuter time. 

Sectaur's and his lady friend (who I will call Minnie in honor of her passion for Disneyland) took us out to dinner and we had a nice time visiting. Bright and early the next morning (9ish) the men drilled holes, ran cables through walls and under the floors and installed a ceiling lamp. Minnie and I weeded their gardens and trimmed bushes, so their front walk can now be used without ducking and squeezing. It was a good morning and we were on the way home by noon. So the two ends of the vacation were good anyway.

Plus, we are grand-doggy sitting Mabel while her folks trot around Moldova. Their first night, the hotel didn't have any water, so not as improved as Ms M had hoped! They get back to MA today, and will come up Saturday to reclaim their beagle. Mabel has epilepsy, so we've been a tad nervous about that, but she has had no problems- knock on wood. I don't know if it's a beagle thing, or just her, but she sure does get fixated on certain things, like getting into our garbage can. I found it on top of the kitchen table the other night after J had had enough of the thumping. She also howls when someone walks out the door, even though there is another human right behind her. 

Now, not all of the scratches on that door are from Mabel, but she has contributed quite a few! We've taken them down the pasture into the woods several times and she loves that, though she sometimes has a hard time keeping up.

They all enjoy grazing when we get in the field.

Between the field and woods, there is pond which is filled by drainoff only. The kids used to skate there, but by this time each summer it is pretty low and covered with duckweed. The dogs love it.

Everyone but Rosie- she doesn't do water.

We had a bucket of water and a towel to wash the swamp mud off  tails, tummys and faces when we got back. 3 dogs stood and took it without a whimper. As I wiped Rosie -feet only- she pulled each one back with a wince as if it were acid I was wiping on. Big baby. 

This is what's been keeping me busy and away from blogging.

Travels with J

We visited R.I. this weekend for a niece's wedding and had a great time. Ameranth drove separately with Anna, since on her way home she stopped in MA. and picked up Mabel, Ms. M's and Mr. C's beagle. They left Sunday evening for a vacation in Romania and Moldova, which is where she served in the Peace Corps 10 years ago.

So, yes, we have 4 crazy dogs for the next 10 days- what fun! But that's another post for another day. (When I can write it without having Mabel's parents freak about my harsh language- because I'm sure it will go more smoothly as the week progresses- If you guys are reading this- don't worry, she's fine, just......insistent).

Back to our traveling. J was driving so that meant I was the stewardess, since I could access the cooler and snack bag. Because, goodness gracious, you can't travel 4 hours in a car and not eat!

J: Would you open the potato chips, please?
Me: Okay, just a minute. (trying to be vewwy vewwy quiet with the bag so the dogs don't know he's eating)
J: And get a bottle of water?
Me: Sure (Twisting behind the seat to open the cooler that is propping up the folding kennel which keeps Boomer from hijacking the car)
J: Do you have the Swedish Fish right there? (A treat we buy for road trips)
Me: Yes! Which do you want????
J: I thought I'd have both- fish and chips!  Ha!

So the next day Ameranth was with us as we ran some errands and headed back to my folks' house, down a narrow road lined with stone walls and trees (much, much too close to the road, I might mention. I've noticed older roads in MA and R.I. often have no shoulders and have huge old trees within six inches of the pavement. Maine roads have shoulders that are filled in and graded each year, plus shallow ditches to push the snow off into, before you get close to any kind of shrubbery).

As we drove by a horse farm, Ameranth remarked at how large and pretty the field was that ran from the road down to the farmhouse.
J: It used to be bigger.
Me: No, it didn't. 
J: Yes, it was-it was sold.
Me: No, that's still a farm- The field is the same size.
J: Some of it was sold- it's smaller.
Me: J, the field is the same friggin' size!
J: No, it's not.
Me: It runs from the same stone wall at the road down to the same old house! How can it possibly be smaller?
J:

I think at this point Ameranth tried to leave the car, but the Boomer barrier prevented her from reaching the door locks. 

I'm a bad doggie mama

As I was reading this blog today, in which the author admits he and his wife have gone "soft" on their 3rd child, I was being harassed by Boomer, who kept trying different toys to see if I would throw one.

"Oh, you don't like the rubber bone, wait, wait, I have this ball that I can bounce over and over at your feet! No? How about this squeaky thing that I can wedge between your hip and the chair, and then make it squeak? Okay, then I will drop it and lie down, growling continuously and menacingly until you look down. No problem. I can do this all day."

Boomer was supposed to be a companion dog for Rosie, after Ameranth and Anna moved out. Instead, he craves human interaction, which is normal you might say. We didn't realize how good we had it with Rosie. She is a husky mix, independent, sneaky and an escape artist, but that is all offset by the fact that she can chill out on the couch and doesn't fetch balls. At one time I thought a dog who fetched was the epitome of doggy/human fun, but not anymore, thanks to Boomer the Manic Fetcher. To say he is hyper is putting it mildly. He gets sooo excited at the idea of fetching that he has trouble giving it back to you, compounded by his irrational fear that Rosie will steal it from him. Actually, he is a stereotypical sitcom younger sibling who wants all the attention, all of the time, and frantically bounces on top of any other dog around.

The upshot of this mix is that we treat them like dogs, that is, we feed them premium food, clean water, treats when they come and go as directed, and put them out in a large fenced in yard. They don't sleep with us, in fact don't come in our bedroom, but I admit that they now have more furniture in our living room than we do, thanks to Ameranth's stuff.  Plus she left Anna's toy bucket here, and our two have been in doggy heaven with the novelty of new things to chew. This is our living room this morning.

Anna's chair, covered with the ubiquitous sheet:

Rosie enjoys having a chair there again, as she can see out the windows to cover both roads. Boomer was hopping anywhere I pointed the camera.

They now have the dog chair, two doggie beds and the couch. J and I each have a chair. We are officially doggy-whipped. And, what you ask, was Rosie doing while Boomer posed for me?

Well, we couldn't get Giselle....

I just sent an email to my kids explaining that J was busy painting and prettying up his shed for our company tomorrow, so he did not do his whole St Patrick's Day photo shoot.  Of course, other years I was usually working, so he had no one here to interfere help.

 He came back inside and sighed about no pictures. Then he wondered out loud if the dogs would mind posing in a hat. "Come on, Rosie!" he chortled, and I figured I better grab the camera before he did. He got the hat and I contributed a shamrock doggie kerchief. 

Foreseeing some rowdiness, we went out to the porch, but we totally underestimated Boomer's excitement level about the wearing of the green. Any bystanders would be forgiven for thinking we were running a dog fighting ring, judging by the ferocious snarling coming from our yard. Boomer tends to berate Rosie whenever he thinks she is not cooperating, such as when he walks through the door first, then turns to leap on her because she is not out yet.

 

Boomer is not biting J, he has a ball in his mouth and he thinks J is stealing it, not trying to get him to face the camera. Totally oblivious to the kerchief, so we tried it on Rosie. Yes, it's a neckerchief, but I think it looks funnier over the ears, like a babushka. Then Boomer was jealous that Rosie looked better than he.

We finally managed to get both "dressed" and in the same shot. I think Rosie looks like she's had a hard night partying! 

She's such a good dog. (That one foot of hers was reaching out to fend off the bad dog).

Anyway, that was the celebration this year.

Rude Awakening

Saturday morning. Sleeping peacefully after J successfully got up, showered and dressed without waking me. Yay.

Suddenly, the bed bounces and I get a wet kiss right on the lips. Rosie was sooo happy to have found me, and acted quite surprised when I chased her out, yelling and wiping my mouth.  Ptooey.

My furry kids

I mean my dogs, people. None of my children are furries, that I know of and I'm pretty sure I would.

Back on topic, and yes, I do have one. At least one.

I tried to get a cute picture of the dogs to use for my March in Maine picture, but they weren't into posing. (I guess they aren't furries either) They did however speak to me about the process.



Now you might think that Rosie feels left out, but she really isn't into the whole fetching or playing thing. Boomer loves fetching-well, the part where he gets it anyway; he's just learning about the giving it back to me part. He still can't bear to put it in my hand, but just over the last two days he has learned to drop it near me, and then bark at me if I haven't noticed.

Rosie does sometimes get fed up with his barking, or excited, it depends on her mood, and what I am doing. She will try to hold him down, or will launch herself in an awkward leap or two.

After the happiness of eating wore off, they were once more being rambunctious, so I sent them out. Boomer went, but Rosie retreated to the living room and did her version of an ostrich.


I started this on the 1st, and more than 24 hours later, I am finally posting it. It took for freaking ever to figure out how to get my video uploaded and onto Blogger. Every time I saw the video, it seemed less and less interesting, but by golly, I am using it!

Strange Bedfellows

 

Each looks a little PO'd about sharing, and having to be at the edge instead of the middle.  (I love my new camera- this was taken in the dark, because I didn't want to startle the subjects)

Obviously, that is Rosie's bed, but Sophie has taken to sleeping there during the day when the dogs are out, and I guess she decided not to move last night. They have a strange relationship.  If the dogs find Sophie in the kitchen or living room, they chase her. She runs to 'her' room (above) and sits down. Game over.  

Rosie has killed kittens in the past- not intentionally, but if it runs, she chases and when she catches them she tosses them in the air. These were kittens that slept with her inside. Her prey drive is very strong and we haven't been able to overcome that.  However, Sophie is about 10 years old, so was in place when Rosie came. She allows the chasing, but not any catching. Boomer has yet to grasp the finer points of the game, and tries to grab her, which Sophie strongly discourages. 

Sophie is getting on in years and her standards are dropping. J fed her last week and when he went by a little later, Sophie was sleeping and a mouse was finishing off her dry food. When we had barn cats, we rarely saw a whole mouse, just various body parts.  Sophie is our only (and last) cat now and doesn't make it upstairs anymore- not like that would make a difference apparently!- and when I went up to get a sleeping bag, I found signs (ugh) of mice all over. 

J hastened up with his poison bait and I went off on my trip. Sunday, I started to smell a musty odor at my computer- nowhere else. Directly in back of me are four deep built-in drawers, filled with sheets and tablecloths. The odor was unfortunately familiar, since several years ago we found a dead and decomposing mouse in there. I gingerly started checking all of the sheets for bodies, startling myself when I found a metal handle that for a second looked like a flattened rodent. Nothing found in the drawers, so I removed the bottom one and voila! A fat little body was removed to the garbage can and air freshener liberally applied. I hope all of the others have the decency to crawl outside to die. 

We went out for fresh air today and I was able to catch Rosie after she was off leash, so it was a good walk.

 

  

No rhythm, but a great routine

I start every day pretty much the same way, and that's the way I like it. Same breakfast for more than 40 years. I know, that sounds terribly boring but bran flakes and orange juice start me off with a nice layer of comfort that lasts for hours. A shower, breakfast with the newspaper, then I check my email. I like my routine.

Boomer is changing my routine, or trying to.

The dogs have their own routine, which of course involves me. Me getting up at @6:00, when Boomer whines from his crate, to feed them a dribble of kibble and put them out in the yard. I go back to bed, and they stay out until I get up, 2-4 hours later. (I am trying to change 20 years of night owl hours, but it is slow going)

I shower, they come inside and nap, while I eat and read. The problem comes when I hear a low rumbling growl behind my seat at the computer. Ignoring it causes the sound level to rise, and the grumbler to circle around in front of me. As soon as I make eye contact, Boomer barks happily and bounces in the air.

He has decided I can have a half hour to read email and check blogs. I know he doesn't have a watch, but it's 30 minutes every time.  Not long enough, dog.

I've got people to check up on, a growing list of interesting, funny, touching stories to read, writers to envy, pictures to look at, peeping in on other folk's lives and  following up on other people's problems and cheering their victories. My kind of social life!

Tomorrow is my one year blogiversary, but I will be traveling to help Ms M and Mr C with the move to their new house, so won't be posting then. When I started this, I thought it would be just a fun way to write down thoughts etc, just for me. And it is. I amuse myself.  But it's also been a nice surprise lurking reading other blogs and I think that keeps me coming back online here just as much as mine does.

(I'll get up early enough tomorrow to leave an hour for my morning routine, but Boomer will be very unhappy when his is changed)

Decorating with Mr Crazy

J and I both had Friday and Saturday off this week, so were able to wrap up a few holiday chores.  Being the cheapskate thrifty shopper that I am, we walked the perimeter of our pasture yesterday, looking for one we could cut, that was on our side of the stone wall. No luck, although the dogs enjoyed the outing. I really hate paying anything a lot for a tree.

We set out this morning to get the best bargain we could, which would mean J looking high and me low for one we could agree on. Lo and behold, we drove past a neighbor's driveway and saw a tree stuck in the snowbank, with a cardboard sign stating "FREE".  We looked at each other and turned to get it. Wow, 30 seconds from home and done already!

J stopped and waited, until I told him to be the man and get out and grab the tree. I waved out the window in case our friends saw us taking their discard. He popped it on top of the truck cover whereupon I asked him did he think it was going to stay  there?  600 feet home? No problem!  5 seconds later, he stopped the truck and hopped out to pick it up off the road, while I was saying that the driver behind us was laughing at us.

Cut the bottom off, lopped a few branches and stuck it in the stand with water while we set out once more. We hoped the limbs would thaw and drop down out of the barrel shape into a more traditional A-line. (They never did) I think this was a tree some male cut down and when some female saw it, he was told to get rid of it and get a better one.

J suggested that after Christmas, we put it back where we found it, with a "Thanks" sign, an idea which amused us greatly. Then he paused and asked, "Was that guy in the truck really laughing at us?"  No, dear.

After we reset his truck clock, which was off because he got a new battery Friday, he turned the radio on, then off after I said it was too loud.  I said I was afraid his hearing was getting worse, and he asked me why. "Because yesterday, you didn't hear most of what I said to you!"
"Oh.....When were you talking to me?"
All friggin' day, that's when!

I was on the phone with Ameranth last night, when I moved to the kitchen doorway.
"Jeepers, Dad has been decorating and I can't see out the kitchen sink window anymore"

Ameranth inherited her Dad's love of holiday festiveness and said "Oh, I have a lot of those stickon window decorations. I have been restraining myself since Sectaurs thinks less is more."

"I don't even recognize some of them. There's a big snowball fort with snowmen all around that covers the whole top pane"

"Hey, those are mine!... well, I guess Sectaurs doesn't have to worry about my restraint now."

We have a built-in hutch across from my seat at the kitchen table and while eating tonight, my gaze fell upon one of the decorative ducks that live there with our dishes.  Nothing is safe from J.

The dogs were very interested in the tree, and our decorations. I worry a bit about Boomer, since he loves any ball he finds. So far, no casualties, although it came close when J tried to get the dogs to pose in front of the tree. Rosie's tail almost undid all of our work.  Boomer did not get the whole sit nice idea. But see how patiently Rosie sits there?

 

            Until all of that energy had to go somewhere.

 

J proudly told Sectaurs about scoring the free tree, and told me all he said was "Oh, you guys". Some of our kids think we tend to accept too much of other people's castoffs but hey, we could use this right away, and we get rid of it in a couple of weeks! Now that's efficient.

Such exciting goings-on!

Not really, sorry I got your hopes up.  But it is exciting to me- My ranger got her Legendary Cartographer title last night, in Guild Wars. That mean she has explored 100% of all 3 continents in the game, a goal where a little OCD helps a lot.

Ok, moving on. This is what my dogs have going on today in their big backyard. (Ranger Rick, anyone?)

Sniffing excitedly: Wow, oh wow, do you smell that, Boomer?
Running frantically on shorter legs: Yes, yes, yes, I do. What can it be?
Let's run back and forth from the tree to the fence to see if the smell will turn up a body!

Looking skyward into the tree, whispering(whining): Oh, it's up there, it is. I see it flicking it's tail at us.
then:  COME DOWN. COME DOWN HERE NOW.

Sadly: No, it wasn't really there at all. It's gone. Over the fence and back to the woods.  Let's go inside. Mom's calling us.

Excitedly sniffing under the stairs: Oh, Oh do you smell that? Something was here too!  Oh, if we could only fit under there! How come we always miss the good stuff?

Excitedly jumping up on the closed door: Hey! Hey! Mom, you shut the door before we got to it!  Hey!  Mom? Let us in?

Snips and Snails and puppy dog tales

Busy, busy in my temporary return to customer service. And, boy howdy, are there a lot of disgruntled, feeling entitled people out there!  Merry Christmas to you too.

Moving along to bits from this week.

J leaves for work at 4:30 and the dogs generally wake me up around 6 to go outside, where they stay until I get up for good, usually 10 or so. (I work nights, all of you who were tsk, tsking).  I got up one morning to find Rosie anxiously bouncing to get inside, but Boomer nowhere in sight. I could hear him however. He was (once again) stuck in the timeout yard.

I had piled our porch furniture at the end, covered with tarps, and made a hay nest out of the wind for the dogs. Boomer apparently climbed the pile and launched himself over the rail and into prison. Rosie was extremely upset that I took the time to get dressed (we had 10 inches of snow fall the day before) and Boomer wouldn't sit still for a picture.

Got a couple of packages in the mail and that's always fun. One was a box of Kenyon Mills Johnny Cake White Corn Meal, sent by my parents.  We looked for some when we were in RI last month, but the grocery stores no longer carry it. One of my sisters lives near the mill and small store, so my folks swung by on a visit and got us a box full of corn meal goodness.

If you're not familiar with johnny cakes, they are thick pancake-like gems, cooked on a griddle, crispy outside and mushy inside, that taste wonderful with butter and maple syrup.  I've been told that the mushy part is akin to grits.  Growing up we would have these for supper sometimes, with bacon and scrambled eggs. Mmm Mmm. To this day I put maple syrup on my scrambled eggs. This might be what's for dinner tomorrow.

We went out shopping today. Us and a couple of thousand other people. Walking out of Marden's I commented that I thought $9.99 was a little much for the kissing balls, considering their size.  J did a doubletake, only to be disappointed when he realized I meant the evergreen decorations nearby.

Driving home past a "novelty lingerie" shop, J read their sign and wondered aloud "What kind of board games would the M******t Boutique sell?"

Me:  "Short ones"

What I did on my days off

This is what has kept me busy and off the streets the last few days:

I know, not much to see, is there. That's because this is what used to be there!

About 15 years ago, we built this wonderful little shelter for our grill. It reached the end of it's life this week. And it went down pretty easily. J had been saying periodically that we needed to do something before winter, and I put it off.  But when I was out raking I glanced up and saw that the posts were leaning quite a bit. Further investigation showed the posts had all rotted at ground level. Since one of said posts held up our satellite dish, I figured better move it now, rather than in the middle of a snowstorm.

This next picture shows how small the maple tree was then. The one on the left is gone, and the other one can be seen in the 'after' picture, now holding the dish.

 

 Again, I know, not supposed to put them on a tree. The branches are all cleared out on that side, so there shouldn't be any interference.

The view from our porch is now wide open, so that is nice. It also changed the look from the road- the maple tree actually looks good.  Evil maple.

I like the sepia effect on this one.

Having finished up the demolition yesterday, I took the dogs for a walk and brought my camera, to get the picture from the road and this one showing the skim of ice on our pasture pond(actually a swale).  This is the first year that this didn't dry up in the summer.

I am amazed that any of the pictures came out, since my camera is an old one and slooooww in cold weather, as am I.  I have a leash looped on each wrist while I try to hold the camera still.

Oh, and it's hunting season, so that means wearing orange if you go out on the road now. I found an orange mesh vest with reflective stripes in the closet, very similar to what road workers wear.  So similar that I started wondering where this had come from?  Did a child steal liberate find this years ago? Surely vests like this are available to the general public and I won't be asked any probing questions if caught wearing it.

Come to think of it, just where did that orange traffic cone in the shed come from?

What is it, girl? Timmy's in the well?!?

A wee flutter of excitement here this evening, involving (what else?) the dogs.  We heard frantic barking outside, which usually means someone is daring to walk by on the road, and the animals are warning them to keep off the grass. J went to call them in, and Rosie came galloping into the living room where I was reading.

Just Rosie, and I could still hear Boomer's high pitched yips. I asked Rosie what was going on as she leapt up at me, and turned in circles. When she kept this up, I stood up and her gyrating became more urgent. This is a big lanky dog whose jumping resembles that of a cow. Have you ever seen a cow suddenly run and kick up it's heels? No, well, it doesn't happen often because they look like fools! Rosie obviously wanted me to go outside with her.

We met J coming back in and he informed me that Boomer was outside barking at something. I told him Rosie had already told me that he needed help. Sure enough, Boomer had gotten himself inside the fenced garden area, where they are forbidden to go. Rosie had already been scolded for being in there earlier. The fence is 24 inches high and Boomer, unlike Rosie, can jump twice his height and twirl about at the same time. His captivity was purely psychological (he must have climbed over a board that was leaning up against the chicken wire) and I had to go lift him out.

Both dogs did happy dances and were sent to bed.

No pictures due to the rapid development of events.

Shoeshine's excellent vacation

Shoeshine will be leaving tomorrow for RI to attend a friend's wedding, then back to ME for his flight Monday. It's been nice having him here for a more relaxed time then the holiday/wedding/funeral trips he usually makes. However, sometimes strange things happen when he is home.

I mentioned before that Shoeshine was a welcome addition to our step building team, but he did more. He had friends over for a cookout, with horseshoes, bocce and croquet. I think at one point they played all three at once. Here's Shoeshine wondering about the weather forecast:

J's corn patch had been visited by hooligans knocking down some stalks and gnawing on the ears. Shoeshine warned off any marauders:

Then wondered if he could think of anything better to do.

 

Ameranth is also in ME and left Anna with us while she visits a friend with cats. Anna and cats do not mix well- or rather Anna likes to mix it up all too well. Anna is a bit too good at nosing our screen door open, and today she led a breakout. I walked to the mailbox, and saw 3 furry bodies dashing past me, directly into the path of a passing car. Fortunately the car was slow, and they made it by, where they made fools of the 3 of us calling and chasing them.

Boomer came back, bless his soul, but the huskies disappeared down the hill, while we herded the two hens out of harm's way into their pen.  Anna and Rosie showed up a few minutes later and were put in the timeout corner.

Oh Shoeshine, you don't have to be in there!

I planned on chicken one night and asked Shoeshine if he ate that. He replied that he didn't like to since it gave them a reason to exist. I'd forgotten about his early childhood trauma while going with J to get eggs. They were playing army and sneaking up to the coop when J opened the door and Shoeshine went in first. Seeing the rooster launching himself at the door, J slammed it, with Shoeshine inside! He opened it immediately, to find Shoeshine bleeding from a rooster attack to the face. (no lasting damage, except to his psyche)

We assured him the two hens we had were not lethal, but he insists fowl have it in for him.

We'll miss you this much, Shoeshine!

*Thank you to J and Shoeshine for all the lovely pictures I found in my camera.

Reading again

I finished a great book tonight, the "Night Angel" trilogy by Brent Weeks. I got the 3 in 1 version, so it was a very fat book indeed. It's a very well- written fantasy novel too, with much more depth and character development than I expected.

So, zipping along happily, and got to the last 50 pages or so, and stopped. I wanted to know how it ended, but didn't want to rush through and have it be all over. I mentioned this to J, so he knew to leave me alone after supper and went off to watch his movie. I mentioned this to the dogs, and it had no effect whatsoever on Boomer. Rosie knew better. Down to the last 10 pages, and Boomer gets escorted to the back door, and out to solitary banishment. He came close to ruining the whole mood there!

I don't really expect Boomer to understand that I am reading and cannot be expected to pay attention to minor outside distractions (not yet, but we're working on it). However, how annoying is it when people come by in the break room and ask what you're reading? They don't really care, they just want to have a conversation because they didn't have the forethought to bring anything to amuse themselves.

I bought a bookmark that said SHH, I'm trying to read, and no one took it seriously. Well, that's not true. One friend did, and she would sit at my table with her book too, saying that she knew I wouldn't bother her and she wouldn't talk to me. That usually worked out well.

Hmm, it just occurred to me that maybe the interrupters thought they were being nice, seeing me sitting alone, and that's why they didn't approach the two of us? I am not a very social person, but I guess normal people might think that way? Not realizing that the social pressure is more uncomfortable/stressful than sitting alone with a book. And that when I was working, my breaks there were the only time I had to read sometimes. Great, now I feel like a jerk.

Well, this post took an unexpected turn but I guess I will leave it out there.

Oh, and I did take the dogs out for a walk after I finished the book, so I'm not a total jerk.

Warning- Poking fun at puppy alert

J and I spent the weekend in RI, attending an annual summer party at the house of J's youngest brother. All of our kids made an appearance (except Colorado Shoeshine, of course) and the weather cooperated nicely. Hurricane Bill caused Maine to have a wet weekend, but we had only an overnight wetting down south.

The dogs were well behaved, especially after we added two feet of height to the dog run at my parent's house. It had been unoccupied and they fixed it up last year for us to use while visiting. However, after Rosie leaped over the 4 foot fence from a sit, she had to be tied outside. This made Boomer a lonely boy, lonely and blue, all alone with nothing to do- except bark.

So, 200 feet of chicken wire later, they were back together. And Rosie checked every inch of the fence too, before resigning herself to containment. Grandma and Grandpa didn't mind babysitting then, and we could go off to socialize. Ameranth brought her dog, who is much better trained and who charmed everyone at the party. (Anna is two months older than Rosie and that makes a huge difference at her age- almost 2).

Anyway, getting on to the puppy poking. J's sister Trish has recently adopted 2 dogs to keep her mini dachshund company. Why 2? I think there was a 10 lb. minimum. One is a 7 year old chihuahua who was rescued from a puppy mill, and the other is a 6 month old puggle.

Now, I don't know if all puggles look like this one or not, but her body is as long as the dachshund's, which is fine, until you see the little pug face attached to an extraordinarily long neck. I don't think the picture does it justice.


All I could think of was the Neverending Story- Anyone else thinking Falkor?


Bella is a sweetie, though. I never thought I would say this, but I wouldn't mind a little dog like her, if I didn't have the heffalump and whirling dervish I do now. And Chloe the chihuahua isn't naked like the Taco Bell dog, so she's much cuter than expected as well.

Eliza or Dr?

All I want are dogs I can walk,
and dogs that listen when I talk.
Two obedient dogs,
Oh, wouldn't it be loverly?


Who fetch a ball, then give it back,
Who don't think kittens are their snacks,
Don't barf in my van back.
Oh, wouldn't it be loverly?

A Three Dog Night

Actually, it will be a three dog week since Anna is staying with us while Ameranth goes off to San Diego Comic-Con with Sectaurs. We stopped by to pick her up yesterday on our way home from RI, and so far, so good. A little snarling and pushing as the pecking order was established, with Anna pouting a bit outside by herself. ("No, I won't come inside where I'm not wanted. I 'll just lie down way out here by myself until some one misses me and calls me in- by name-several times") But we're all one big happy family now.

And, since Ameranth gets home Monday, but has to get back to work immediately, I offered to deliver her dog, rather than wait for her to get a free day. I'll drop off the dog in MA, drive down to RI, spend the night with my folks, then bring them back to ME with me. We will go to a family reunion on Saturday, then I will drive them back home again. Might as well take advantage of not working!

Speaking of not working, I got a call today from my former employer asking if I wanted to work this fall as seasonal help. They always ramp up for the fall/holiday season and lots of people around here count on that for extra spending money. In these times I am sure that for many it will be money for necessities, not extras. I said I would, and have an appointment in a week or so to fill out paperwork, and find out when they want me. I am thinking October. So, feeling less guilty and can enjoy the time off again.

Let's see, last note to make is that I have finally found a new computer chair that works for me. I think I have bought and returned 4 over the last year or so, never finding one that will fit my desk and has arms that are where I want them. We saw a monitor for sale at Staples, and I lucked out with the chair as well. The monitor was for J, since I had received a new flat screen one for Christmas last year. J still had the huge CRT style that we both used for the large screens. Nice to have some available real estate on the top of the desk again.

A bizarre thing at Staples- All of the monitors on the display shelf had the normal desktop icons, as well as a large drawing of a rooster. They also had the words "I (heart) cock. What?!? I thought some kid must have come by and fooled around with it, but then the salesman says to us, "like my drawing?" Um, what to say to that? Lucky us, he was the chair salesman too.

Now to give him the benefit of the doubt, he did have to wander around the store to find his glasses, and maybe he didn't know what a heart meant, and maybe the C looked liked an L and he thought someone liked a lock. And then I think, do I just have a filthy mind? It bothered me all the way home, so I called the store to let them know about it. The nice girl was very apologetic and said she would check on it. Weird.