Tag: writing

Spring the Tantalizing Temptress is Almost Here

Officially Spring starts on Tuesday, March 20th, but it feels like Spring started almost a month ago.  We have had a very mild winter here in the Midwest.  I’m not complaining mind you, I wished for a mild winter this year after two cold snowy winters in a row and I got my wish.  Some flowers are in full bloom.  My Hyacinths have all popped and smell so fragrant.  My Peonies have sprouted, the Crocuses have already bloomed and withered.  Every day brings some new bud or bloom.  I want to play hooky so bad. 

Some friends don’t much care for Spring flowers.  They consider the blooming season too short.  The flowers don’t last long, usually only days for some.  But I look at Spring as an appetizer for Summer.  For a taste of more to come.  Teasing you with some warm days, new greening and hints of more color every day.  In the Spring you have to pay attention and look around to notice the subtle changes going on.  The smells are slight and intriguing.   As I walk the dogs in the early morning, I’ll catch the whiff of a spring bloom, floating in the air. 

Yesterday walking the dogs, I caught a glimpse of a small Forsythia blooming in the woods all alone.  I came back with a shovel and bucket in hand and dug him up then planted him in the yard.  Soon the Dutchman’s britches will be in bloom along the roadside and this year I’m bringing some home with me. 

I would have to say that now Spring is my favorite season, with the teasing tantalizing glimpses of what beauty Mother Nature has to offer.  You just have to stop and look around to find them peaking out under the Winter’s shadow.

Teaching Orso That It’s Fun To Retrieve A Ball

 

Focus!

Okay I’ll try this

This is easy!

The Most Dreaded Words A Man Will Ever Hear

I can utter a two word phrase that will send Mitch in a panic. “It’s dated.”  Whenever I speak those two simple  words together in a sentence, Mitch knows that another home improvement project is coming at him.  Some might argue that men fear hearing, “I think I’m pregnant,” more, and that may be true for younger single guys, but for a married man, my money is on, “It’s dated,” every time.

In the kitchen the conversation will start something like this.

“You know I think I’m going to paint the kitchen.”

Which causes Mitch to look around at the walls and say, “Why, what’s wrong with the color now?”

“It’s dated.  A fresh new color will make the room brighter.”

He’ll look at me and say, “Okay if you want to paint go ahead and paint, but I think the walls look fine.”

The next words out of my mouth will be something like this, “We really need to change the countertops too.  They are so old and faded, with stains and scratches.  And while we’re at it, we ought to think about new cabinets.”

Translation: he’ll be doing all of the heavy lifting, ripping out cabinets, installing new countertops and whatever else I decide to change.  After we spend days arguing over style, color and materials.  It must be true that opposites attract, because our personal styles are complete opposite.  Mitch has to have balance.  If you have a mantle and you place candlesticks one side of the mantle there has to be the same identical and number of candlesticks on the other side.  Asymmetrical design equates to total chaos to him.  While perfect balance and symmetrical design is boring to me.  I like chaos, it makes life and design interesting.

“What’s wrong with the cabinets?  Wait don’t say it, they’re dated, right?” 

“Now you’re in the spirit, maybe we’ll go darker,” I will answer, totally ignoring the sarcasm.

This will bring on the eye rolling and heavy sighs, but he knows he’s lost the battle, again.  Poor guy.

After the shopping, the arguing and the ultimate compromises on both sides, Mitch will then be called upon to do the hard labor.  I’m the idea person and he’s the implementer.

Just Watching the World Outside

Charlie climbs up on the chair to watch the day go by.

Charlie

It’s Them or Me

It’s them or me, and my money is on me. I’m the one with the opposable thumbs. I have the power to reason through a problem. I have tenacity. I also have osteoporosis. I was diagnosed in the fall of last year. Me with osteoporosis, no way. I’ve taken calcium religiously for decades. I was devastated when I found out. I’ve always thought that I was unbreakable. No matter how many times the dogs knocked me down; (and they knocked me down a lot) I would get right back up with nothing more than a few bruise to show for it.  Well there was that one time I tripped over the dogs on a walk and tore the cartilage in my knee.  Mitch had to walk home get the El Camino then come back and get me sitting on the side of the road.  Not now.  I have 5% bone loss, which I was told is significant bone loss. So now I’m taking my weekly dose of Fosamax and have realized that I’m quite breakable.  I’m now afraid of falling and breaking something.  I don’t like feeling this way.  I don’t like fear. 

I’ve not taken the lunging or the yanking the dogs do while walking seriously until now.  It’s been a source of entertainment and fodder for my stories.  But now I’ve realized that together the three dogs are much bigger and stronger than me.  I was five foot two before osteoporosis and losing a half inch, which makes me a great boat anchor dragging behind the leashes, but little more than that if the three choose to charge after the object of their interest. 

Basically they’re good dogs, fairly well behaved, but tend to feed off of each other’s emotions.  If one gets excited about seeing someone, the other two join in and I can’t hold them back.  Not anymore.  So now the serious training begins.  I know labs are hardheaded and stubborn, Orso especially seems awfully thick at times, brilliant other times.  We call him “Box of Rocks”.  Charlie is just hardheaded and willful.  When it comes to a battle of the wills, he will not budge one iota.  The thought of violence is often considered with him.  AJ is soft and submissive, but when no one expects it, he will instigate trouble then stand back and let the other two get yelled at.  Sneaky.

Training three dogs at once is a challenge.  One at a time would be easier, but I don’t have the time to work with each dog individually.  So three at a time is our only option.  I’ve given Mitch the ultimatum, “It’s either they get trained to exhibit patience and not lunge or we can’t have the dogs”.  And I have no intention of not having the dogs.

So it’s them or me.  Bet on me.

AJ After The Play Day

 

AJ after playing with the younger dogs

Three Thugs

I was out walking last night and observed three tuffs walking down the road.  Each had a cocky air, heads up looking mean, keeping watchful eyes out for any trouble.  Their steely gaze traveled back and forth striking fear in the hearts of all whose paths they crossed.  Their chests were puffed up and out trying to appear larger and meaner.  Their gait was slow and purposeful, each step placed ready to spring into action toward any perceived threat.  The way they walked down the road reminded me of the old westerns with the gunslingers walking down the main street, cowboy hats pulled low shading the face and eyes, guns slung low on the hip, ready to be pulled and fired. 

I walked along going the same direction as the three thugs wondering if I might end up as a victim of an attack or just part of the collateral damage if one or all three decided to confront some impending threat.

What was worse, the trio knew together they were intimidating, individually not that tough, but all together, the three dogs looked downright scary.  I would have been terrified if I had been a squirrel.

Play Day

The chase is on

My Ball!