Hidden in a Closet

This morning I got up and went downstairs as usual.  Cambridge was in his cage, which was unusual.  The Man and I put him in his “house” when we go to bed so he doesn’t tear the house apart while we’re asleep, but Josh always lets him out when he gets home so he can sleep in his room or on a cushion next to the couch where Josh sometimes chooses to sack out.  So I let the dog out of his cage and went to work thinking that Josh would soon be up to take care of him.

Fast forward several hours.  I’m now at work.  My cell rings.  It’s Josh.  He says, “Oh—by the way, I didn’t come home last night ‘cause I stayed at my apartment.”  (His apartment—another story altogether….)  Josh hadn't been home yet and it was now the afternoon.  “What!”  I’m thinking.  “You mean that puppy has been loose in the house all this time with no one there to snatch important items out of his little puppy mouth?”  I felt sick.  But then I figured it was too late to do much about it.  I was glad I had rinsed out the plastic milk container for him to chew on before leaving the house.  Maybe that had kept him occupied…..hope, hope, hope.

Well, what do you know?  The milk jug did the trick!  When I got home, I couldn’t find a single mess anywhere except the pieces of chewed up plastic that were spread across the living room rug.  Yippee!  What a relief.  Good puppy!

But later, after The Man asked about some missing cargo shorts, I went into Josh’s room to see if maybe they’d been delivered to the wrong room by the laundry fairy.   (My friend, Margaret, told me her husband always says, “Oh, the laundry fairy’s been here when he finds his underwear drawer has been replenished.)  On my way past Josh’s open closet door, something caught my eye—I thought, “What the heck is that?”  Before it registered in my brain, I knew it was out of place in a 21 year old man’s closet.  I’m used to seeing basketball sneakers residing there, but not this.   I looked closer and my brian caught up.  Hmmm, that’s a woman’s shoe.  Hey wait.  That’s THIS woman’s shoe!  And do you know what?  That shoe was chewed to a pulp—and I don’t think Josh was the chewer.

That was definitely the work one naughty little dog.  I realized I hadn’t seen that shoe for a while.  I  don’t wear that pair often because they make me so tall…but still—it was a shock to see it hidden in Josh’s closet.  The poor kid.  It probably happened quite a while ago and he didn’t know how to tell me.   He was probably afraid of being treated to my “devil voice” (as he lovingly calls it) which is reserved for such occasions.   Oh well. The shoe was old and didn’t cost much anyway.  What can a person do but be happy it wasn’t the corner of the leather couch, right? 

Well, I hope it was worth it!

That little rascal!

   

The Heat

So how are you doing in the heat?  We’re doing pretty well.  We have air conditioning and a pool.  But it wasn’t always that way.  I was thinking about the years we did without both of those things.  I remember sitting in the balcony at my grandma’s church for the evening service.  It was so hot and uncomfortable!  I was always told that you should try and sit still when you’re hot and you’ll cool down.  OK, I get it now—good trick, Grandma—fib to the child, so she’ll stop squirming….

In the summer, fans were tucked in the hymn book rack for the congregants to use.  They were made of a thick kind of paper and were usually illustrated with some kind of Bible scene.  They each had a handle that looked like an oversized popsicle stick.   Grandma used to tell me not to fan so hard—it would only make me hotter.  You’d think I was doing aerobics with the thing….anyway—the whole experience was rather unpleasant.  But that’s the way it was back then.  There were a lot of small stores that had no a/c.  We lived in Missouri for a while when I was young, and I remember going to a restaurant a time or two where you sat at long tables and passed the food family style.  They made great fried chicken, I remember that.  I also remember the little individual pats of butter melting on the table because there was no a/c.  Nope there sure wasn’t. 

I also remember lying in bed unable to sleep because of the heat.  Mom would suggest putting a damp washcloth on my forehead.  What?  And just how long is that going to cool a person, I ask you?  One night it was so ridiculously hot in the house that one of my brothers and I ended up lying on the floor in front of the open front door with our heads on the threshold just trying to catch a breeze!  Now that’s just plain pathetic.  Actually, as I think about it now, it seems just plain ridiculous not to have had the benefits of air conditioning for so long.  What’s worse is that we made our own kids suffer in the heat too, probably because we grew up that way.   What the heck was wrong with us!  I mean, really, a small air conditioner can be picked up for $100.  You don’t have $100 to throw around?  Sell some stuff on ebay.  Take a paper route for a couple of weeks.  Cut back on junk food, for Pete’s sake—just get yourself a darn air conditioner! 

Birthday

I had a birthday yesterday.  Yeah, it would be easy to complain, but as you know, there’s only one alternative to growing older and it isn’t one most of us want to contemplate too deeply.  I’ll take the birthday, thank you. Thunderstorms were forecast, and actually materialized, so The Man and I pushed our birthday outing at Lake George to today.  The lake was gorgeous as usual.  We sat on a bench and looked at the water, ate our picnic lunch, took a bike ride on the trail, had some ice cream, and drove up Prospect Mountain on the way out of town. I know what you're thinking, "Boy those crazy people really live on the edge!"

It was a fun, but tiring day.  I felt about 100 years old walking the trail to the peak of the mountain.  That Ben and Jerry’s ice cream cone just didn’t pack enough punch, I guess.  We found out (halfway up the path) from some people coming down, that there is a shuttle you can take….great—where was that information when I could still breathe? 

So because we spent the day at Lake George, no work was done on the patio slate project here at home.  I didn’t get through the paper piles in the back room.  The new dining room curtains weren’t lined and hemmed.  No work was done on the quilt.  I didn’t call to see if dogs are allowed at the beach rental.  (I know, Inky—those pups are coming either way, aren’t they?) And a multitude of other things on my To-Do list were ignored, but soooooo what?  It was a day for fun and relaxation, and as the commercial so aptly put it----I’m worth it!  (Now allow me to bore you with some pictures--thanks!)

 

 

The Pool and the Ride

The Man and I worked hard today laying slate on our back patio.  For those of you who have never laid tile or stone, it can wear you out, let me tell you.  We took a lunch break and a dinner break.  The rest of the day we worked.  During the dinner break, I looked over at the pool and decided I needed to be in it—or at least on it.  I flopped onto the big floaty thing (one of the wisest purchases made this spring), and lay back, allowing my feet to dangle in the water as I floated around the pool.  Looking up, I noticed that the sky above was a gorgeous shade of blue.  The petite, fluffy white clouds were charming as they gently made their way across the sky.  The tree branches leaning over the pool, with their green leaves swaying lightly in the breeze, made me feel protected.  It was the loveliest experience.  And I thought, “You know—who knows what the future will bring?  Things may fall apart and life might become a misery, but right now, this feels fantastic and I’m going to savor it.” 

Yesterday I had a similar experience.  I was up early and The Man was nowhere near ready to start on our patio project, so I took my bike out (for the first time this season) and rode through our neighborhood and down a path through the woods to a couple other neighborhoods.  How I enjoyed that ride. The air felt so wonderful.  The temperature was just right—not too hot or too cold.  Summer smells assailed my nose.  Birds were singing their hearts out up in the trees as I zoomed down the road with the wind in my hair.  As I looked at the lovely homes and yards to my right and to my left, I thought about the people and families that lived inside those homes.  Most are family oriented, conscientious, hardworking folks.   I felt grateful that we live in such a pleasant, peaceful area.  Noting some of the beautiful gardens, I thought about how interesting it is that people are driven to create beauty.   I rode home, feeling happy and content. 

These were such simple experiences—it’s almost shocking that they were so enjoyable, but they were and I feel grateful to have had them. 

Trouble in the Garden

It’s hot as blazes outside today.  I knew it was supposed to get up over 90 degrees, so I hightailed it out to the backyard this morning to do some backyardish type things before the mercury had a chance to climb.  Cambridge came zooming out the door after me of course.  So while I was fussing with some flowers, I noticed him off in the corner playing with something.  Well, when you have a puppy, you learn to check what it is he’s playing with—A.S.A.P if you’re smart.  It could be a stick, a rock, or somebody’s expensive basketball shoe.  Or in this case it could be ONE OF MY TOMATOES!    No wait—make that TWO of my tomatoes! 

Now to put things into perspective:  I’ve nurtured and cherished my four tomato plants for weeks.  Every day I inspect their fruit with a keen eye, waiting for the skin of the tomatoes to turn from green to a lovely shade of red so I can gleefully snap them off and race into the house to use in our weekly batch of salsa.  I have been so looking forward to using our own tomatoes instead of spending a small fortune on the ones in the store—I want that fresh taste too! 

 

So that little dog must have marched right up to one of the tomato plants and nibbled or knocked a couple of those beauties right off the vine.  That pup’s got some nerve!  How dare he touch those precious orbs!  But you know—they are round and green—they do look a lot like the tennis balls he’s been allowed to chew….Oh, OK—he’s out of the proverbial doghouse.  He didn’t mean to be naughty (again)….

So now my little babies are sitting in a dish and will hopefully still ripen and be sacrificed to the salsa The Man so loves.  As for Cambridge—I’ve pretty much given up—he runs this place.  

My two babies!

  

Asking a Favor

As usual, I made extra work for myself.  A little outing with a couple of friends has been planned for this morning.  We are going to meet at a Park & Ride; then car-pool the rest of the way to our destination.  When we arrive at aforementioned destination, we will have fun.  Fine—nothing wrong with the plan so far.  But then, when we were confirming our plans a few minutes ago, I apparently felt the need to open my big mouth and ask a favor of one of the ladies.   “So you asked a little favor—what’s the big deal?” you might be asking.  Well,  the problem is doing the “favor” would require that she come back to the house after our little excursion.  Now imagine you have a satellite view of the northeastern U.S.  Now you’re zooming toward upstate NY.  We’re picking up speed as we hurtle toward the earth.  Now we’re above a modest colonial-style house, hang on!   We’re going in through the roof!  We're in! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!  What happened in this home?  The sight of dust, fingerprints, half-chewed dog toys, untrimmed dining room windows, mirrors that have almost lost their reflective properties (due to the water spots and hair products splattered on their surfaces) assaults our eyes!  Then there are the piles of women’s magazines—they’re going to get read sooner or later, really.  Wait--what’s going on in this laundry room?  A tube of calk (in the gun), a box of nails, a big chisel—why are these things lying on top of the dryer?  Oh yeah, it’s those untrimmed dining room windows.  That’s why there’s a pile of casement sitting on top of the dining room table, along with a level, drill, screw driver, shims, and needle-nosed pliers.  There’s also a most pathetic looking orchid—a mother’s day gift from son #2.  It was beautiful for a while—that was when it had flowers on it.  Now it’s just sitting in the middle of the table, still in its decorative box-- fluffy green tissue paper spilling over the edges—one skinny, dark green stalk standing naked in the middle.  I was trying to figure out what to do with the poor little plant….And let’s not even begin to discuss the office/Grandma’s guest room (Its real name should be The-Things-That-Are-Important [to me anyway]- But-Can’t- Be-Used-Right-Now-And-There’s- No-Where-Else-To-Put-Them Room.  Catchy title, I know.) 

Anyway—here I am under the gun to whip this place into shape in less than an hour, and I’m writing about it—any clues as to why the house is in this deplorable condition?