Sunday: shredded dog bag
Monday: ink jar held strong. Italian dressing on the comforter lost wicked bad
Tuesday: acrylic paints everywhere
Wed: who needed those shoes anyways??
Someone besides myself doesn't like that I work two jobs.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Conversations of an unbalanced life
I push open the door, puzzling over my lack of balance with work and life after another great meeting with librarians, writers and illustrators in the basement of a historic tavern. Orion greets me, tail wagging, his eyes looking tired. I glance around the kitchen for poop piles as he seems to be under the weather as of late and leaving me said presents to remind me both of my lack of balance and his lack of interest in my long hours away.
"Oh what's this Orion?" I ask, pointing to the shredded brown bag on the floor.
"Oh, that's your lunch that you didn't finish this afternoon, that you thought you'd pack again for tomorrow..."
"Yeah? And how did it end up in pieces?"
"Oh, I thought you were so kind for leaving me a peanut butter and honey sandwich. You know how much I love peanut butter and a challenge to get to my food. Plus that chicken broth and rice diet? It's just not cutting it. That's why you left me dessert!"
He wiggles between my legs to get his butt scratched again.
"And that was extra nice that you left me carrots. I do love carrots."
"And, well, I know you mentioned how important peas are too, so I took care of that bag too just in case there were any left... that's in the living room."
Wiggles back through.
"Oh?"
"And well, don't worry, I pulled down enough silverware for Chloe and I because I know how important it is to eat properly. I tossed down some bowls too."
"Did you see the towel I pulled out too, to properly wash our paws?"
"I kind of wish you would've left us some water though... that one bowl wasn't quite the same as the toilet lid left up...."
He's smiling as he goes back and forth between my legs, appreciating his back scratchies.
I move into the living room. See the shredded pea bag.
I move into the bedroom.
"Oh, and Orion, did you just want to remind me how much I love to pick up poop in the house too?" I ask my trailing companion, as I see a pile in the bedroom.
"Well I know how much you want to relax in the evening, and how you are just about done with your paper towel roll. I just wanted to make sure you could use it all before the weekend. Just trying to help is all."
I go back into the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies while the voices in my head combat with my mood: "YOU'RE EXISTENCE IS NOT BALANCED. HE IS ACTING OUT. IF YOU WERE HOME MORE THIS WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING." verses "HE'S SICK. HE ATE A TON OF FOOD TONIGHT. BE PATIENT. THINGS WILL WORK OUT. CATHOLIC GUILT DOES NOTHING FOR YOU. YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN. HE WENT FOR A TWO HOUR RUN TODAY. YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN."
The light heartedness wins out for tonight. A precarious seesaw, and I kiss the tired boys head and tell him it's okay and we crawl into bed (of course after depositing the stinky poop)
"Oh what's this Orion?" I ask, pointing to the shredded brown bag on the floor.
"Oh, that's your lunch that you didn't finish this afternoon, that you thought you'd pack again for tomorrow..."
"Yeah? And how did it end up in pieces?"
"Oh, I thought you were so kind for leaving me a peanut butter and honey sandwich. You know how much I love peanut butter and a challenge to get to my food. Plus that chicken broth and rice diet? It's just not cutting it. That's why you left me dessert!"
He wiggles between my legs to get his butt scratched again.
"And that was extra nice that you left me carrots. I do love carrots."
"And, well, I know you mentioned how important peas are too, so I took care of that bag too just in case there were any left... that's in the living room."
Wiggles back through.
"Oh?"
"And well, don't worry, I pulled down enough silverware for Chloe and I because I know how important it is to eat properly. I tossed down some bowls too."
"Did you see the towel I pulled out too, to properly wash our paws?"
"I kind of wish you would've left us some water though... that one bowl wasn't quite the same as the toilet lid left up...."
He's smiling as he goes back and forth between my legs, appreciating his back scratchies.
I move into the living room. See the shredded pea bag.
I move into the bedroom.
"Oh, and Orion, did you just want to remind me how much I love to pick up poop in the house too?" I ask my trailing companion, as I see a pile in the bedroom.
"Well I know how much you want to relax in the evening, and how you are just about done with your paper towel roll. I just wanted to make sure you could use it all before the weekend. Just trying to help is all."
I go back into the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies while the voices in my head combat with my mood: "YOU'RE EXISTENCE IS NOT BALANCED. HE IS ACTING OUT. IF YOU WERE HOME MORE THIS WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING." verses "HE'S SICK. HE ATE A TON OF FOOD TONIGHT. BE PATIENT. THINGS WILL WORK OUT. CATHOLIC GUILT DOES NOTHING FOR YOU. YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN. HE WENT FOR A TWO HOUR RUN TODAY. YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN."
The light heartedness wins out for tonight. A precarious seesaw, and I kiss the tired boys head and tell him it's okay and we crawl into bed (of course after depositing the stinky poop)
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Old Fart
It's dusk and it's the first time in awhile I have this deep happy swelling in my insides. Chloe trots along, little tail flipping left and right, her bald patch not bothered by the flurries twisting in the air. Orion springs ahead, a wound dog wishing to be set free to sprint along the sidewalk rather than patiently stepping one foot in front of the other. Snow is melting despite the light flakes falling in the air, and I have never been so happy to see mud in my life. I proudly stomp through it, celebrating the sign of spring. I listen to the bustle of downtown traffic and think about how much I miss the ground beneath my feet but how happy I am to be putting down roots in this place, this place where friends invite me to be a part of their community, coffee shop owners tell me when they're going to Aruba so I won't worry when they aren't there to wave to in the morning dog walk...and my apartment with it's purple curtains and wood floors.
We round the corner and Orion's control bursts. Suddenly Chloe and I are in a jog, a run, down the sidewalk... my singing ceases for the moment, as I call ahead, "Orion! I'm sadly too old for this! I'm nearly thirty Orion!" And then I start to giggle. Almost thirty?
"But Mom the night is lovely, and we're out for a walk, how about a nice job instead. Hold tight to those mittens!" I say out loud, as Orion's voice carrying back to Chloe and I... and then I start into song, again, "Here I am a happy yellow dog with my best friend scruffy Chloe, and best friend human Molly and we're walking down the sidewalk..."
It's a wonder the record company hasn't called.
We pass the house with the dinosaur in the garden, and I think of the little boy with blue eyes pretending he was big enough to shovel, telling me about something in his little boy language during Nemo the snow storm, and the parents, with their foreign languages, and the odd baby face in a plastic flower attached to their fence post that scared the bejesus out of me the first time I saw it.
Neighbors.
I love neighbors. And I think of Zachary, my nine-year-old buddy and how I should give him call...and my old friend, who's name's escaping me for the moment, Herb, who use to walk his tiny dog everyday and tell me not to get married...
We round the corner and Orion's control bursts. Suddenly Chloe and I are in a jog, a run, down the sidewalk... my singing ceases for the moment, as I call ahead, "Orion! I'm sadly too old for this! I'm nearly thirty Orion!" And then I start to giggle. Almost thirty?
"But Mom the night is lovely, and we're out for a walk, how about a nice job instead. Hold tight to those mittens!" I say out loud, as Orion's voice carrying back to Chloe and I... and then I start into song, again, "Here I am a happy yellow dog with my best friend scruffy Chloe, and best friend human Molly and we're walking down the sidewalk..."
It's a wonder the record company hasn't called.
We pass the house with the dinosaur in the garden, and I think of the little boy with blue eyes pretending he was big enough to shovel, telling me about something in his little boy language during Nemo the snow storm, and the parents, with their foreign languages, and the odd baby face in a plastic flower attached to their fence post that scared the bejesus out of me the first time I saw it.
Neighbors.
I love neighbors. And I think of Zachary, my nine-year-old buddy and how I should give him call...and my old friend, who's name's escaping me for the moment, Herb, who use to walk his tiny dog everyday and tell me not to get married...
Boredom
"Hum." I walk in the front door, dragging my six grocery bags in on my dying arm. I plunk them on the floor and look around. It is surprisingly clean in the kitchen. Too clean. The frying pan has disappeared from the stove. The plate as well.
"Liz?" I had left a key for a friend who may have arrived before I made it back from shopping.
No response.
Did someone come in and steal my frying pan?
Orion's following at my feet as I peek in the middle room. I flip the light switch.
"Orion."
Orion cocks his head.
My couch looks as if the recycling bin exploded. There's my strainer, or a piece of my strainer. There's a spaghetti jar, the packaging for the ham that I was going to recycle, the juice box. Pieces. Pieces. Pieces.
"Bored?"
He trots back to the kitchen.
I follow, eyes rolling to the top of my head.
But what about that frying pan....
I look under the table, I look in the bathroom, and then I see it--frying pan and broken ceramic plate, beside the stove.
"Really??!"
I sigh.
I start collecting pieces.
"Honey if you break these and eat them they can cut up your intestines and then you'll be a dead dog. I don't think my Apple stock can cover that kind of repair work. If you have to, stick to the recycle bin okay?"
Chloe wanders in. She sniffs the pile of broken pottery.
"What were you, the driver when the robbery happened?"
She struts back out.
"Liz?" I had left a key for a friend who may have arrived before I made it back from shopping.
No response.
Did someone come in and steal my frying pan?
Orion's following at my feet as I peek in the middle room. I flip the light switch.
"Orion."
Orion cocks his head.
My couch looks as if the recycling bin exploded. There's my strainer, or a piece of my strainer. There's a spaghetti jar, the packaging for the ham that I was going to recycle, the juice box. Pieces. Pieces. Pieces.
"Bored?"
He trots back to the kitchen.
I follow, eyes rolling to the top of my head.
But what about that frying pan....
I look under the table, I look in the bathroom, and then I see it--frying pan and broken ceramic plate, beside the stove.
"Really??!"
I sigh.
I start collecting pieces.
"Honey if you break these and eat them they can cut up your intestines and then you'll be a dead dog. I don't think my Apple stock can cover that kind of repair work. If you have to, stick to the recycle bin okay?"
Chloe wanders in. She sniffs the pile of broken pottery.
"What were you, the driver when the robbery happened?"
She struts back out.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Highlights
With a single week night off and one weekend day, I haven't had much time to indulge in the world of blogging but these are the highlights:
1. Walking dog at 5:44 AM through the perfectly cut sidewalks after a two foot snow storm. Dog dives head into snow, as if looking for something. Dog's head pops up. Something is in his mouth.
"ORION SERIOUSLY??!!" I back track on the ice to him, dragging fourteen year old dog back as well. Pry open dog's mouth. Half a chocolate chip cookie. "Honestly Orion? How do you FIND these things??" Keep walking. Grumble, grumble.
2. Sitting in bedroom ready to fall asleep. Friend from Ohio says, "I think Orion's cleaning up the kitchen." There's a crash. Another crash. A third crash. "Is it bad I just don't even care enough to see what he's into? It'll be there in the morning," I roll over and go to sleep.
3. "I might kill him," I say to Ohio friend as we are driving her to the airport. "I mean we've done the rescue remedy." Orion's whining in the back seat after his high pitch barking parade. "That's it. Reach in the glove box and find a benadryl." Dog eats benadryl in a piece of donut. Ten minutes later I look at him, head propped against the passenger chair, eyelids dropping. "Oh honey. Just put your head down and rest. I know you feel weird. Just sleep."
4. It's cold. I haven't turned up the heat. I'm afraid the bill will be high. I lift the blanket. The boy crawls under. I curl up beside him. We'll keep each other warm tonight.
5. It's mounds of snow from our Nemo snow storm. The boy bounds up the mountain, the mountain collapses. Where's the boy? Head pops up and he leaps like a reindeer only to disappear a second time. Well, we go another block like this and i figure we can skip the long walk as he'll be tired enough with his hurdles.
1. Walking dog at 5:44 AM through the perfectly cut sidewalks after a two foot snow storm. Dog dives head into snow, as if looking for something. Dog's head pops up. Something is in his mouth.
"ORION SERIOUSLY??!!" I back track on the ice to him, dragging fourteen year old dog back as well. Pry open dog's mouth. Half a chocolate chip cookie. "Honestly Orion? How do you FIND these things??" Keep walking. Grumble, grumble.
2. Sitting in bedroom ready to fall asleep. Friend from Ohio says, "I think Orion's cleaning up the kitchen." There's a crash. Another crash. A third crash. "Is it bad I just don't even care enough to see what he's into? It'll be there in the morning," I roll over and go to sleep.
3. "I might kill him," I say to Ohio friend as we are driving her to the airport. "I mean we've done the rescue remedy." Orion's whining in the back seat after his high pitch barking parade. "That's it. Reach in the glove box and find a benadryl." Dog eats benadryl in a piece of donut. Ten minutes later I look at him, head propped against the passenger chair, eyelids dropping. "Oh honey. Just put your head down and rest. I know you feel weird. Just sleep."
4. It's cold. I haven't turned up the heat. I'm afraid the bill will be high. I lift the blanket. The boy crawls under. I curl up beside him. We'll keep each other warm tonight.
5. It's mounds of snow from our Nemo snow storm. The boy bounds up the mountain, the mountain collapses. Where's the boy? Head pops up and he leaps like a reindeer only to disappear a second time. Well, we go another block like this and i figure we can skip the long walk as he'll be tired enough with his hurdles.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Bed
Recently I moved across country. Then I moved again three months later to avoid driving 1.5 hours to my two jobs twice a day. As I left the countries leading bed but capital of the world, I had no trouble throwing out my mattresses and starting fresh here, and by fresh I mean with y air mattress till it was time to invest in a bed. Trouble is, the air mattress was a twin. Trouble is, Labrador grew. Trouble is, I may have popped it by mistake when all pound ages of me fell on it one fateful night and must have sprung a small but subtle leak that now makes for a balancing seawardly like state in the morning wi dog and I. Consequently, I had to give it up. I should have a fold out couch arriving some day but for now I have only cushions:
"See? This isn't so bad," I say to Orion assessing my creation of every cushion in the apartment.
Orion: silent.
Me: "okay, so maybe it is. I will start saving for a bed."
"See? This isn't so bad," I say to Orion assessing my creation of every cushion in the apartment.
Orion: silent.
Me: "okay, so maybe it is. I will start saving for a bed."
Sunday, December 23, 2012
And the stick chases him down
Having picked up two jobs, I have been up at five thirty out the door by six and back at 11 pm. Consequently, the boy, unless walked by a parent hasn't been getting the attention he deserved. So as Saturday rolled around, the first in which I only worked one job, I peacefully woke up and looped his leash around his neck for a walk in the woods.
He lept, he ran, he tried to take out Mom and I with great enthusiasm. He jumped and swam in the half frozen pond. Sprinted across the bridge and then, and then he found a fallen tree limb. He tackled the limb with great abandon, "Don't worry guys, I have this one under control," it seemed he was saying as his butt flipped over it, then back, head tossing wildly is to side.
And then he freaked. Butt tucked he sprinted away. Only trouble was in all his glorious August of the stick his 16" leash was now wrapped eight ways sideways around said branch. As he sprinted the branch chased him. His eyes wide, he'd freeze, leap, trying to escape the pursuit and take off again at a dead run. Myself, being carted along with him couldn't help to laugh, disabling me so that I couldn't help his poor self. Eventually after tripping in giggles down the path we managed to get close enough for him to stop and let us free him from his assailant. Once free he took off again, free as a lark, head turned back to verify indeed he was rolling solo.
He lept, he ran, he tried to take out Mom and I with great enthusiasm. He jumped and swam in the half frozen pond. Sprinted across the bridge and then, and then he found a fallen tree limb. He tackled the limb with great abandon, "Don't worry guys, I have this one under control," it seemed he was saying as his butt flipped over it, then back, head tossing wildly is to side.
And then he freaked. Butt tucked he sprinted away. Only trouble was in all his glorious August of the stick his 16" leash was now wrapped eight ways sideways around said branch. As he sprinted the branch chased him. His eyes wide, he'd freeze, leap, trying to escape the pursuit and take off again at a dead run. Myself, being carted along with him couldn't help to laugh, disabling me so that I couldn't help his poor self. Eventually after tripping in giggles down the path we managed to get close enough for him to stop and let us free him from his assailant. Once free he took off again, free as a lark, head turned back to verify indeed he was rolling solo.
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