one sorry puppy. . . .

The eyes say it all.

mea culpa. . . .

regrets - one sentence

All the good I expect out of Luther's gelding evaporates in the face of the pain I see cut into him as he still lies - boneless - on his big-boy bed twenty-four hours after the event.

The clown edwardian collar is the final insult.

back again, briefly

Life's been busy.

New work.

New house.

New name.

Trying to settle into all of that.

I remember reading once that moving, changing jobs, and beginning/ending a marriage rank right up there with among the most stressful things in life. All at once? Killer.

It helps that I love my work and am really excited about the new house. It helps that the weather is getting cooler. It helps that the dog is getting older, and is giving glimpses of the the lovely-behaviored boy he promises to be - when he gets a few more months [years?] under his collar. It helps that I've figured out that my name is [formally] Dr. Maiden Name plus Married Name or - if they can't handle both names - then Dr. Maiden Name. NOT Dr. Married Name. They still call me Dr. Not-Quite-Married Name. They can't even get that right. It's close, mind you, but not right.

sigh.

Anyway, looking forward to moving into our 'castle'.Wondering what I'd have to do to get the gardens to look like this.I may be shutting this site down. I think it might be time to stop speaking personally - but anonymously. It's something that bothered me from the first, but it was a good outlet during a tough time for me. We'll see how my thoughts go. I'm thinking about it.

Meanwhile - this weekend is all about packing up my studio and getting ready for the movers to arrive to start packing us up on Monday. Tuesday, we should spend at my folks house - they're out of town, and our bed will be on the moving truck - and Wednesday we should move in and spend our first night at our very own house.

whew. It's been a long, long, long, LONG road. The end of a long ending and the start of a new beginning.

I can hardly wait.

lessons from Luther - self-control

Words; no pictures. Sorry. No time to find a shot to post!

I continue to be amazed at how much I have learned about growing up from my dealings with my dog. Just this morning I put him in his crate because he was completely outside of himself: leaping, barking, chewing, demanding.

How many times have I found myself effectively incarcerated - unable to move either forward or backward - because of my own inability [or unwillingness] to control myself? It's embarrassing to recognize myself in the behavior of a 6 month old dog. But hey! I'll take the lessons wherever and whenever I can find them.

I finally let him out when he settled down, and he's now happily chewing on his rawhide bone on his big-boy bed.

And if I settle down, maybe I'll get let out, too. . . .

magic t-shirt folding kit

oh yeah. I have GOT to make me one of these!

Complete with a little music chip that will play that song.

clarity

I have always loved this time of day, when the setting sun throws much of the world into shadow relief, and the loss of distracting detail shows up in stark, black, definite lines against the jewel of the sky.

This, from Elizabeth Perry's woolgathering site, where she has posted a sketch a day for several years now. . . .

self; means; ends. . . .

"Not being able to govern events, I govern myself."

Michel de Montaigne, essayist (1533-1592)

Interesting thought, that.

The one thing we have a hope of controlling is the one thing we so often neglect, in the vain hope of changing another or of securing a "favorable" outcome through protest, manipulation, shouting, wheedling, argumentation, or sulking. . . .

talking too much - one sentence

Why is it that the person who most needs to realize - "Hey! I talk too much!" - is the last person to recognize that in themselves, even in the course of conversations about other people who are talking too much?

['scuse me as I creep off to consider how this is true in my own life. . . .]

changing seasons - one sentence

No matter how hard I try to keep watch, at the beginning and end of summer I am always surprised to find that - without my having noticed exactly when - the leaves are finally out and that - at the end of summer - the bug sounds have imperceptibly changed from locusts to crickets.

dog days and heat waves

The good news: the temperature has dropped; I have more energy.


The bad news: the temperature has dropped; Luther has many times more energy.


I've stopped counting the bruises on my legs and arms. At least our walk this morning will be pleasant as I won't be fainting from the heat and disgusting from the combination of exercise and hot humidity.

lessons from contractors - one sentence

"You will pay twice as much for any fixture different than the one I [haven't yet] spec'd- because that's an upgrade - and you will receive half as much as credit for the value of the unspecified item that was allegedly specified as the actual value you could ever hope to purchase it for."

Resistance is futile.

sigh.

Beginner Berliner. . . .

Luther likes lavender

Go figure! I was doing this year's lavender harvest and spent almost as much time trying to fend Luther off the lavender as I did stripping the lavender off the stalks.

I finally handed him a couple of spent stalks, and he trotted over to his bed, layed down, and spent a good long time happily chowing down on them.

That's one wierd dog.

Who'd have thought I'd be fighting him for aromatic herbs?!

how wude

"Rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength."

Eric Hoffer , philosopher and author
(1902-1983)



Remembering this idea of Hoffer's ought to help me deal not only with the rude "customer service" person, but also with myself, when I find I've drifted into rude waters of impotence.

harmony - one sentence

One day, I'm going to pick what I'd really like instead of what my husband wants and - while he's busy repeating that I should really suit myself because he's so easy to get along with - see how easy he really is to get along with when faced with something like this, say, in the living room.

new music

OK - so maybe not so new, it appears this chick has been around for a while, I've just not heard of her. Anyway, it's been a while since I've been excited about a new song - and this is a really cool song.

If you haven't heard her yet, it's Brandi Carlile, and the song is "The Story". The above is a live version. For the pretty music video version [for which embedding was disabled - so I can't post it here], click here.

a bad business

"A business that makes nothing but money is a poor business."

Henry Ford, industrialist (1863-1947)

Interesting, that. It seems that this is the goal of almost all companies, these days. . . . Talk about "something for nothing"!

questions, questions

Almost all of my one sentences start out as questions:

"Hmmm. . . . why is it that. . . . ?"

. . . that I've edited into trial statements.

hamstrings and pickaxes

Surprisingly, swinging a pickaxe left me - not with sore arms, but - with tight and sore hamstrings.

what were they thinking?

Man.

Parents forget 3-year-old at Airport.

That'll mess you up.

I wonder if there's a law against that?

[I think there should be a law against traveling with 18 suitcases. That's not "traveling" - that's moving.]