Thank you, Mother Nature

The weather the past two days have been pure heaven for me; the kind I hope and pray for... temps in the high-70s-low-80s and low humidity. Today is supposed to be the same. The weather man just called it a bonus day. Change on the way tomorrow. This kind of weather elates me... makes me want, need, to be outside. Some family members are headed to King's Dominion today and I'm thrilled they'll have this day to enjoy. This weather is good for Bailey, too, as he hasn't had his Summer hair cut yet.. (His appointment is in a couple of weeks... harder to get one for him than for me.)  He used to enjoy being outside... doing his business, rolling in the grass, checking out the p-notes left by other dogs, known and unknown. Nowadays, he hardly takes time for anything except leaving p-notes himself... he's so anxious to get back inside to the ladies (and some men) who make so much over him. I should have such a fan club.

My brother is home this week, recuperating from a medical procedure. Thanks to his wife, Mom Nature and the medical staff he is spending time getting back to 'normal.' He broke, albeit unintentionally, one of the rules... baby brothers aren't supposed to need stents.

Back to 'just us' (sigh)

I realize I do a lot of sighing throughout this post... please bear with me.

Re-entry into the normal every-day routine is hard... especially when the time-out has been so great. Bailey and I spent 5 days with a wonderful group of people and pets in a wonderful place. My son-in-law's sister had invited the family down to her place for the Memorial Day weekend, and let me join in the fun. I've never seen such well-thought-out planning for a siege (all-be-it a friendly one). Eighteen humans and 3 dogs under one roof with deck attached. The deck being the place I spent most of my time. The company was engaging and the food toothsome. Then we returned home. Home, home, home. Yes! After we took a nap, we both had the same reaction... no more Murphy and Belle to play with... no more humans to pet us and tell us how cute we are... no more stimulating conversation... no more delicious smells and tastes... no more dinners at the PIT... no more brisket in the smoker. No more bets on how long it will take for a piece of ice to melt on the deck floor. (We never found out... one of the dogs ate it.) Just us...  home again. We're getting back into our usual grooves. I actually (finally) did some laundry yesterday... it was a matter of needing to be decently dressed to go out in public. As the weather is supposed to good today, we're going to the Daily Grind this morning to spend some time with another delightful group of people. Bailey will get pats and strokes and I'll get coffee and conversation. Sigh... the usual routine isn't so lacking after all.

Didn't watch a TV or listen to radio news the whole time we were gone. Assumed the earth hadn't been blown up... I figured we'd get a clue if so. Have resumed watching sporadically... enough to know that the trials, tribulations, and silliness continue. Sigh.

 Heard yesterday that James Arness has died. With his boots on, I'm sure. During my formative years, Rev. Venoy B. Skinner, Harry S. Truman, Sgt. Joe Friday, and Matt Dillon were the examples for me of what men should be. They were, and remain, my heroes. Although I have a number of males in my life who come very, very, very close, there will never be another Matt Dillon. Sigh.

Skweeka-skweeka-SKWEEEK!

Things got noisier at my place this past weekend. When I brought Bailey home, I also brought his first toy... a small, slightly bone-shaped dog that had a squeaker inside. It soon was named 'Buddy' and turned out to be his favorite play toy. He loved when I would make it squeak. This past weekend, he discovered that he could make it squeak. It has not been far from his side since. Sometimes he just lies with it in his mouth, squeaking away. Other times, he'll carry it into the other room... not to play with... just to make sure it is near. At least once a day, I'll feel something on my foot or nudging my ankle and there will be Bailey with Buddy, quietly asking me to play his favorite game... Tug-of-War-Skweek-and-Toss. When he tires of chasing and returning Buddy, he'll veer off in another direction, lie down and just squeak awhile. Such joy from a simple thing.

I can't blame all the noise this past weekend on Bailey and Buddy. Saturday, I went to the farm market set up near my place and found (Oh, joy!) French breakfast radishes. Yumm! I brought home two small bunches and proceeded to eat all of them later in the afternoon. (burp)

Wunsa pona time....

I've often wondered if children are still able to use their imaginations or if the instant availability of videos for practically every topic has stunted their ability to 'see' things in their own minds. My youngest granddaughter's teacher has been giving each of her students a paper with an open frame at the top and lines filling the rest of the page. In the frame is a squiggle or mark of some kind. The kids are told to make a picture out of the mark and to write a story about it on the lines. The mark on this page was a large 'V' and my granddaughter made it into mountains and added a house and "...a mom with two girls. One liked to ice skate and one liked to fit tornatos." I'm so glad to find that using their imagination is still being encouraged in schools, at least in this class.

I have to say that my daughters and daughter-in-law seem to get more done in a day than I remember accomplishing in a week when I was their age. I don't remember ever having that much energy. They constantly amaze me.

Bailey and I are having an on-going discussion regarding the ownership and location of my bath mat. I do have to admit that he gets way more enjoyment out of lying, rolling and chewing on it than I ever have from just standing on it. I can't decide if he's a pack rat or a hoarder. He likes to put all of his acquisitions in a pile and chew on each one, just so it knows who's boss. I can see it now... "Canine Hoarders"... coming to your TV screen soon.

Sometimes...

A friend recently encouraged me to post more often so you can blame this mini-rant on her.

The following was a 'headline' this morning on one of the news sites I scan every day. (I've been thinking of changing sites but, after checking out a few of the others, I realized that I might as well save the effort.):


          How Magical is Helen Mirren's Bosom?


This is news? Sometimes I see something like this and it makes me feel like heading for the oven, turning on the gas, and sticking in my head. I try to not be judgmental, but really! No, I don't consider myself smart or intelligent, but I do like to consider myself part of the discerning contingent. I know I'm a dinosaur, living out my Twinkle-Light Years so my opinion is not important. It's just that every once in a while, I'm caught off guard and it takes me a moment to regroup.

Note: I tried to add a link to the Twinkle-Light Years post but couldn't get it to work. If you are interested in reading it, you'll have to 'search' my blog. Sorry 'bout that.

On the road

While traveling I-64 a couple of weeks ago I came upon a model of car I hadn't seen before. At first it looked like a large egg; then I realized it looked more like a very large canned ham on wheels. It was a pretty sparkle-ly blue with (imitation) chrome accents. I soon got close enough to see the name on it... Snort. Snort? Surly they didn't name a car Snort. Finally got my eyes coordinated and saw that it was actually a Smart car. I've heard of those... ecologically good and cute besides, and small. I do have one problem with it. These cars are made of plastic (weight reduction for gas savings). BUT semis and dump trucks are still made of metal. Heavy metal. No contest in a close encounter. When they start making the big guys out of plastic too, I'll think about getting a Smart car.

Further down the road, something hit my car. I looked to see if the windshield was cracked... nope. And no cars or trucks anywhere near me... nothing to have flung a missile at my car. Then I saw some things fly into the road in front of me. It was a blustery, gusty day and the trees were lobbing pine cones at the highway! Mother Nature's way of saying we can pave all we want to but she'll have the last word?

I imagine it's this way in most large city/urban areas... travel a street far enough and the name has changed a few times. My personal road became 'Rt. C' almost five years ago. It started out rough, rutted and unpaved, but with the grace of wonderful care-givers, family, friends and newly available medications, it became a much smoother ride. Some large new potholes have appeared but I'm confident that they'll be filled as before.

I've gotten a new back-seat rider to travel with me... a 7-1/2lb, 5-month-old bundle of cuteness who I've named Bailey. He is a Shitz Tzu and a wonderful traveler. He does get a workout at home. He feels he has to keep me in sight at all times, so every time I move between rooms, he follows. If I am doing anything that doesn't involve giving him food or treats, he sits, patiently waiting for me to wander again.

I was talking with my daughter last week and she began to apologize for not calling more often. She said she hoped good intentions counted. I told her I understood and appreciated the thoughts. All my life I've heard that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. At this point, I have constructed a six-lane freeway. But I'm not alone. I mentioned to my brother that I have been meaning to call our Uncle Marvin in Missouri since January 1st! He said it has been a while since he'd spoken with him too... let him know what Uncle Marvin had to say.

I've signed up on a couple of sites that offer price reductions for various things... food, lodging, services, etc. Got an email the other day from one of them offering a half-price deal on a Brazilian Wax. Not a road I'll be taking.

Seeing myself as others see me

Saw two photos of myself on another blog this morning. They were taken by a professional photographer... a very good photographer. The photos are un-posed and un-retouched. They show my sagging cheeks and jowls... the folds in my face and neck. I blame it on the fact that I've lost weight and fat no longer provides filler (obviously no Botox or filler injections for me). I didn't realize I had so many folds and crinkles in my skin. They certainly don't show up in my bathroom mirror. Just goes to prove what I've always said.... "I'm much more attractive than I appear."