Friday, November 30, 2012

i could say a lot of stuff

But mostly, what I want to say today, is happy birthday, Stu.  xo Mom.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

This guy.  He may bark at the sky.  He may hang off of Jo's neck when she tries to fetch a ball.  He may have all sorts of questionable behaviors.

I think he may have earned me another Christmas present from the neighbor, the neighbor who gave me dog training videos anonymously on my doorstep on Christmas morning a few years ago.

See, this guy goes after everything that moves.  Not so good when it's one of the cats, probably not so good when it's a rodent.  In the neighbor's back yard.  On the other side of the fence.

This guy, he's determined.  And unstoppable.  And a really good digger with an apparently good sense of smell.  I keep stacking more and more and bigger and bigger rocks against the fence but he keeps digging under them.  And with good reason.

A couple of weeks ago, Jr spotted a large rodent running along the top of the fence through the neighbor's grapevine.  Seriously?  Yep.  I figure that between the grapes for food and the woodpile for a home, the neighbor's backyard is a perfect home for rodents. 

I'm just waiting for him to show up on my doorstep to tell me it is unacceptable for GusGus to be digging into his backyard.  And then I'll mention that if he'd get rid of the rat, Gus would stay in his own yard. 

A dog's gotta do what a dog's gotta do.  And this guy?  He's gotta get that rodent.

It is totally creepin' me out.

Friday, November 23, 2012

the little things

for which I am grateful

1.  Jack deciding to shop early on black Friday
2.  Jr working at Starbucks early on black Friday
3.  Warm cup of love for me.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

show me the way to go home

A little over a week ago, Jack started talking about buying a trailer so we could go camping.

We have camping history.  We bought our first tent on the day we were married, a little springbar pup tent.  We camped at Lava Hot Springs on our honeymoon.  In October.  It was rainy and cold, but there were hot springs and we were young and newly married.

Later on, we acquired my parents' camper.  The camper of my youth.  My dad was a carpenter by day who decided he wanted to camp with his family so he built a camper.  We spent many happy days and nights in that camper when I was a kid.  It seemed reasonable that when I had two small children I too would want to spend time camping with them, so dad gave us the camper, bought a new, larger version for them, and we changed from tenters to campers.  We camped until the family grew too large and too busy for that camper.  We sold it to a sheep herder who probably still lives in it year round.

Earlier this week, we settled on a new trailer.  It's larger and less campier than the first camper.  It has the potential to make and hold many fun memories for years to come. 

Alas, it is winter now though, a great time to find bargains on new trailers, a not so great time to take them to the local mountains.  (Although it has the "Arctic Pack" insulation package, so in theory we could take it out now and be perfectly snug.) 

Before we parked it beside the house for the winter, we decided to drive over to show it to dad.  As usual, he was asleep on the couch.  I nudged him, nudged him again, and again, and he slowly blinked his eyes, closed then opened his eyes, and gradually recognized and greeted me.  He slowly pushed himself up and around the sofa until he was sitting upright.  I pointed my finger in the direction of the trailer parked outside and after a few minutes he spotted it.  He immediately noticed the brand and logo and said he'd considered buying that brand years ago.  As much as I tried to get him to go out for a tour, he just wasn't up to it, but he did want to hear about all of the features and all of our plans for future road trips. 

We visited for a while, talking about past trips in the camper to Shady Dell and motorcycling at the sand dunes.  Out of the blue, as we prepared to leave, he started to sing:

I'm tired and I want to go to bed,
Had a little drink about an hour ago
And it went right to my head,
Wherever I may roam,
By land or sea or foam,
You'll always hear me a'singin' this song

His eyes were twinkling, his whole face smiling, and it was just like the dad I remember from my childhood, always whistling or singing a song, and completely happy when I joined along for the last line:

Show me the way to go home.

Monday, November 5, 2012

this is not me being mean

Okay.  I don't know what to do about that Facebook thing.

Ever since I joined/sign on/whatever, I've only become friends with people who asked to be my friend.  You know, didn't want to force anything with anybody.  Apparently even though I may seem to be very outgoing, I'm really more of a private-ish person.

But lately, I'm getting more and more invites to be friends.  And it feels like I'm losing control of that space or that the invites are from people who don't really want to be my friend, they just want to have lots of friends.


I don't know.  Maybe it started getting weird when my mom asked to be my friend.  I think she does want to be my friend.  But still.

I suspect my kids had that same weirded out feeling when I joined.  I just wanted to see the pictures they post of the grandkids.  It is fun to feel like I'm part of the in crowd.  Not a place I've really been familiar with before Facebook.

But then I realized there's another place to post photos--Instagram? 

And I just want to know what the heck is that?  I thought it was an app for Apple products so since I don't have an Apple product I couldn't participate.  Which leaves me feeling old and not in the in crowd and maybe a bit cranky.  Or at least reminds me of that commercial where all of the Apple kids are waiting in line for the new Apple product and one of them isn't an Apple kid but is instead saving a place in line for his parents.  Because us old parents like to think we're part of the in crowd.

Obviously this is not a good circle to be going round on.  Probably overthinking it.

I think I'll just put down the computer and go eat a piece of that pie I baked yesterday.