Puppies

Morning Sounds

/ wvfurandroot / 1 Comment

2400 sq. ft. and here we all are

It’s a dreary Saturday morning.

The sound of the gentle rain on the roof and that of a snoring, old dog are comforting.

dolleighI’m on the sofa. Next to me is the old, snoring dog that I’m taking care of while my parents are out of town.  Dolleigh is snuggled underneath the sofa throw and seemingly content.  Behind me, on the back of the sofa, is Izzy, my black and white cat.  She, too, is sleeping but without the snoring – she’s far too young for such indignities.  Maggie, the old champagne-colored cat, is sprawled on the coffee table in front of me.  While old enough, she is quiet in her sleep.  Perhaps her cat nap isn’t deep enough. Phoebe, my somewhat Shih Tzu puppy, is nestled against me.  She is not sleeping.

Phoebe is jealous – the first sign I’ve seen that she is even a little bit territorial about my affection. She loves Dolleigh and this whole dog-sitting thing is a great adventure for her, but nonetheless, she does what she can to distract me from loving on Dolleigh, an impossibly fat and affectionate dachshund.

Dolleigh, in her old age and rotundness, invites affection. When I pet her, she lifts her muzzle to give me kisses.   She stays close to me, unlike Phoebe who is usually too busy with a toy or a cat to snuggle with me.  But with Dolleigh here, Phoebe is bestowing great gifts of affection and staying very close to me.

2400 sq. ft. and here we all sit.

IzzyIt is a gray, gloomy day, but, still, it is beautiful. The damp causes the changing leaves to glow in the mist.  I’ve sat here, loving on pets, and drinking coffee for several hours while staring out the atrium door to the backyard.  It’s just that kind of day – one that provokes a lazy stillness.  Later, perhaps, I will curl up with a book and read between my own cat naps.

This is a three-day weekend for me. I feel quite comfortable at the idea of spending this day doing nothing of any import.  It won’t surprise me, however, if I turn into a whirlwind of activity and tackle some household projects.

It’s that kind of day too– one pregnant with possibilities, but no agenda. I may wallow in the comfort of this sofa or I may tackle the disorganized mess of this house.  Either way, I’ll be steeped in contentment.  It’s just that kind of day.

2400 sq. ft. and here we all sit. I know if I get up, so will the animals.  All of them will follow me to whichever room I go.    If I do turn into a whirling dervish of activity, all of them will make their way back to the family room where they will continue to nap and snuggle with each other.

Whatever it is I end up doing, I think I will do it without music or television. I am loving the sounds of this rainy, dreary Saturday.

In the Still of the Night

/ wvfurandroot / 2 Comments

I hear the clock ticking and the puppy sighing. It’s late by my reckoning, yet I’m not ready for sleep.

I love the house quiet like this. I can hear myself think and my heart beat. In the still of the night. . . Hold me darlin’ hold me tight.

Life is so good these days.

Inertia

/ wvfurandroot / 1 Comment

It’s been rainy and dreary all day.  I’m loving The Polar Vortex in July.

I did nothing today.   I would say “absolutely nothing” except I installed a new roll of paper towel in the kitchen.

lazyI gave myself permission early on to do nothing today.  Generally, when I do this, I get all sorts of things done.  I’m just perverse that way.

But not today.  I  have been the very definition of a couch potato.  I read a little.  I slept a little.  I stalked folks on Facebook.  I danced with the dog.  I ate comfort food (and didn’t clean the kitchen).  I drank two pots of coffee.  I have been worthless.

I think there’s something to be said for taking a day off now and again.  My life has been such that there’s been no end of things needing to be done for decades.  Periodically, I do sit around and do nothing, but I feel antsy and guilty and jittery about it.  Not today.

Today I wallowed in my inertia.  Savored it.  Provided a background of Mozart and a scented coconut candle to enhance it.  I’m still in my pajamas at a quarter to eight.  I haven’t brushed my hair or made the bed.  I have done nothing save unwrap a roll of paper towel and hang it on the wall.

My body is pulsing with endorphins of goodness.  I am blissfully happy with my no good self.  I hope your Saturday was just as rewarding.

Ain’t No Son Shine When He’s Gone

/ wvfurandroot / 1 Comment

a boy and his dogChef Boy ‘R Mine was here for a week and just left Monday morning.  I am all verklempt and singing “Ain’t no son-shine when he’s gone.”  (H/T to Mona and Dena.)

My son lives in Atlanta and, as a chef, works crazy hours including weekends and holidays.  I don’t get to see him often and, when I do, it’s usually just a brief visit.  A whole week was a gift.

chef boy r mineI’m fond of saying to expectant parents that no one ever tells you how much fun kids are.  And, hoo boy, young souls make my soul sing.  But I’m learning that there’s a lot of fun and satisfaction in older children.  My son is very much an adult and living a self-actualized life.  He’s intelligent, articulate and has a wicked good sense of humor.  I enjoy talking to him.  I enjoy sitting in companionable silence with him.  I enjoy watching him play with his dogs.

He cooks for me, sometimes, when he comes home.  This time I bought a filled-to-the-brim grocery cart of quick and easy stuff so he wouldn’t have to cook, but he chose to anyway.  We had a quite marvelous Ricotta Gnocchi Bolognese that was so good we ate it for 3 days without tiring of it.  I said, as I often say when Chef Boy ‘R Mine cooks, that it was the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.  And it was.

gnocciAfter the first round of Gnocchi Bolognese when I was still high on the endorphins of good food, I had no sooner settled into a glass of after-dinner wine when he announced he was going to go wax my car.  I wondered aloud if I was dying and no one had told me.  He had cooked and done most of the cleaning up and was still willing to spend 4 ½ hours waxing my car.

At night, by lamplight, he waxed my car.  Not just waxed it, but washed it, clayed it, compounded it, did this and did that and then something else.  This was not just a wax job, but the kind of attention a car gets with a $400 detailing job.

When I walk to my car, I see a sparkle and shine that reminds me that I have a son who loves me and is willing to spend his vacation days with me.  Adult children, I’m finding, are a great joy.  Life is good.