Skip to main content

But It's Only January

This afternoon, a guy from Invisible Fence was here installing a "fence" so that Baxter can run wild in his own yard. As it is, the big puppy can only run wild on the patio and in a mulched area so sloped that he looks like a goat when he stands at the highest point. In fact, we have occasionally called him Goat Puppy.

An invisible fence is really an electric wire buried in the ground that interacts with a collar that reminds the dog where his boundaries are. That's a polite way of saying that it zaps the dog if he gets too close and ignores the warning beeps. When the guy finished with the wiring, we walked Baxter around the perimeter of the yard to introduce him to the beeps and the flags, and I wore my winter boots and coat and scarf because we were trudging and sliding through what's left of two inches of snow, now less than an inch and slushy and mushy. It was raining at the time and cold and a little windy, and I was very happy to be finished with the exercise and to be back inside where I could get warm.

We'll be Gidget and Moondoggie.

I was also happy to remember that next week at this time, we'll be in Hawaii. Honolulu, to be exact. On the beach. In the sun. Where it's 80 degrees during the day and 70 at night. With no coats or scarves or snow boots.

A few days before Christmas, Husband said he really could use a break from cold weather and hard knocks and would like to go to Hawaii in January. I did not point out that we have only begun with winter in Ohio—it's only January!—and instead I said "OK." Of course, I did. And now I'm planning by reviving my summer clothes and arranging to board the dog and the cat. I'm scheduled to get my hair cut tomorrow, so I called ahead and threw in a pedicure, too. Why not? And I've read the details of the resort where we'll be staying—they offer two-hour horseback rides, which I feel I must do, and they have a beach and pools and restaurants with delicate teas and sushi and yummy things I won't be cooking, just eating.

Between now and this trip to an island in the sea, I'll be training Baxter inside the fence with melting snow and mud and rain and cold weather. It won't be pleasant, but I'll keep next week in mind. Besides, it's only January.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Right Brain Dominant

I am reading A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future , by Daniel H. Pink. I wouldn't have chosen this book had I been book hunting because I lean toward fiction—it was a gift from someone who, like me, is right-brain dominate. I haven't gotten very far, just far enough to learn that in Hippocrates' day, the left side of the brain was considered the true source of thought, the thing that separated us from the animals and made us human. It was the source of reason and logic. The right side was considered a useless left over, a parasite. Now we know that both sides of our brains are equally important and equally involved in our daily thoughts and functions. But some of us do seem to be governed by one side more strongly than the other. Me, sometimes I think the left side of my brain has completely atrophied, that the right side governs everything. But I am learning that I don't give that other side enough credit, that logical mathy side. As I read on ab...

Happy Birthday To...

Pope Leo IX (the Pope) JCF Bach (German composer) Jane Russell (of Gentlemen Prefer Blonds fame) Daniel Carter Beard (founder of the Boy Scouts of America) Jean-Paul Sartre (French philosopher) Maureen Stapleton (Academy Award winning actress) Mariette Hartley (who?) Prince William of Wales (the prince) but most importantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 45 years ago today, I was born in Alabama in a small town on the banks of the Tennessee River. Yesterday, someone asked me if my family has any birthday traditions. The answer is no. My family never cared very much, but I do remember a few birthday highlights. I was given a birthday party in the back yard when I was ten years old. Two years later, my sister got married on my birthday, so I was just a bit overlooked, although I did get a stuffed animal--it was a white Yorkshire terrier with an AM radio in its stomach. When I turned 20, a different sister took me to an outdoor performance of Dvorak's New World Sympho...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...