The four-footed one had a spa day today. Although judging from the looks of her it wasn’t a relaxing spa day in the least. And I have a feeling the groomer didn’t exactly have a pleasant time either.
What was supposed to be a bath, hair cut (or fur cut I guess) and nail trim all promising to be relaxing for the dog, became a little something different. It started with a small mishap at the washing station. The water was turned a little to hard and so the four-footed one responded by making a giant tidal wave in her area. This of course created more chaos which resulted in the four-footed one sliding around while groomers tried to catch her.
Once caught and secured she was bathed and dried, evidently against her wishes. Her nails were trimmed and then it was hair cut time. After her hair cut she was dried again and given a cute green bow. The groomer working with her was rewarded with a nice cup of coffee and a cookie.
When we picked up the four-footed one our regular groomer told us what happened. She said that honestly she didn’t think the other groomer would have such an issue, but she did. When I inquired further she told me that the other groomer has issue so it has omen dogs. They simply do not take to her and evidently the four-foot one didn’t take to her.
At home the four-footed one had to run around and roll in the grass for a while. Not in the least bit relaxed. It took hours before she opted to settle down for a nice nap. Beloved decided that spa day brings out the wild animal in her. The wild animal that must run and play until she is relaxed and calm. And has left her owners in a state of needing a relaxing day at the spa!
It’s always a bit of a puzzle to me how nations have managed to feed themselves of generations using chopsticks or such as their only utensils. The puzzle is they manage to get enough nourishment into their bodies with these two sticks.
You see friends, on the best of days I have some issues using chopsticks. On bad days I have no skill with chopsticks at all. Unless tossing food around counts as a skill. Yes dear readers I am that person who is always offer fork or such in restaurants that normally provide chopsticks on the table. And I’m not alone either, Beloved also will be offered a fork because he is in fact as bad or worse than me these days with chopsticks.
And yet small children manage these utensils with no issue. They can pick up the smallest bits of food deftly with those two sticks. If I had to feed myself with this,ethos let’s just say I’d never worry about diets again. I might, instead, worry about having enough food in myself to survive!
Thankfully there is stuff known as finger food! 😊
Some people make everything look effortless. It is as if they glide through life while others of us slog through it, stumbling and falling our way around. We do not make it look effortless. We do, however, make it look like hard work. 😉
Friends of mine recently put in their own pond. Of course they made it look effortless and the end result was stunning. So taking a page from their book, we decided to set up a tiny indoor fountain. Effortlessly even.
This fountain was a complete package so basically we just had to set it up. And it came with instructions so obviously we could do this effortlessly. And effortlessly we started, gently taking the fountain from the box.
Effortlessly we found the spot where we wanted to set it up. With a natural ease we positioned the rocks from the kit where we thought they would look best. And then disaster struck. We failed to plug the machine in the wall before setting up our rocks just so.
Naturally we took the rocks out, moved the machine to plug it in and set about repositioning the rocks again. And naturally they did not go back where we had them the first time. But we are all about the effortless today so we just went with the flow. Well until it drove Beloved around the bend at which point he spent a lengthy period of time getting everything back to where we had it.
And since it was all about effortlessness, Beloved played with the rocks while the water was flowing from our fountain. Hey I wanted the floor washed anyway so no big deal right? And the dog needed a new drinking area too. Which is why the fountain is now in a more location and Beloved is effortlessly playing with rocks, again.
Yesterday’s outing has left me with an odd rash, on the side of my neck. It doesn’t itch, frankly it hurts. I’m not sure what caused it, but this morning when I awoke it was there.
Beloved suggested it was part of lupus, but in all my battles with the illness, I’ve never had this type of rashes a result of the sun or what have you interacting with lupus. This is something else. I thought perhaps I had brushed up against some type of plant while we were out. Except I was never close enough to even reach out and touch a single leaf.
Beloved suggested if not lupus nor a plant then surely a bug must have caused it. And the truth is it could be from a bug. There were plenty of them swarming around and what with the deer and foxes around perhaps that is what it is.
Of course neither Beloved nor our four-footed companion show any signs of being at all worse for the ware after the outing. Nope only me. And I have a rash, swollen knees and a suddenly overwhelming sense of being cold as a reminder from our walks yesterday.
I can account for the swollen knees and cold feeling as part of doing too much, as bring lupus related. But the rash? No, and it can’t be lupus. Only because just once I want it not to be lupus!
“Come on, come on, let’s go” his voice pleaded. No it wasn’t a Ritchie Valens song, rather Beloved pleading with me to hurry it up a bit before the light shifted too much.
He tossed the bag impatiently over his shoulder, tightened his grip on the four-footed one’s leash and with a quick wave he ducked around the corner. It wasn’t an act of cruelty that he wasn’t waiting, he needed the light for the pictures and I was in a dawdling kind of mood.
Sure part of that was lupus slowing me down, but I wanted to take in nature before it too shifted into a last burst of brilliant colors. Now, as it hung in the balance, the sweet warmth just there on the edge of the crisp morning fog I wanted to take it all in. Savor it and store it for the coming days of white walls, ceilings and hospitals.
And Beloved too played a part in almost fm his for hen was capturing nature for me to view later during those hard days ahead. I had told him to surprise me with the photos later, when I would need them.
And so he took off ahead of me, taking pictures of plants, sky and animals as it pleases him. And I took my time, enjoying the gentle breeze on my skin and marvelling at how dark the shade was prior to me taking a corner and suddenly being in wonderful sunlight.
Three crows decided to visit our yard this morning. Crows, of course, are omens of our future. Seeing one crow is a sign of bad luck. Seeing two crows is a sign of good luck. Three crows means health and four crows means wealth. If you see five crows it means scenes and six crows means death is coming for you. Or at least this is what I’ve been told about Celtic lore.
Heres the thing, the four-footed one and I saw three of them. But not all at once. They were in the same area, but not right beside each other so I can’t say if they all arrived at the same time. So does the words of the omen hold true if you see them all at exactly same time or within moments? I mean we are talking about the difference between health and good luck.
And when Beloved joined us outside, there was only one left, which would mean bad luck. Perhaps it would be best to pretend we never saw the crows. Maybe the omens don’t count if you don’t subscribe to the lore. And of course because we are talking about omens, it means that we must now look at what happens in our immediate future to see if we can determine when the omen comes true.
It’s really all too much for this girl to figure out. Between trying to sort out the logic of this and the cawing of the crows, I have a headache. And I saw three crows so that should be health, unless it only counts seeing all at once because then I saw two for good luck, not a headache! Pretty sure there is no omen for a headache!
I don’t often yearn for the past, even if I’ve been known to mourn the future. These days I am yearning for the past, well a part of the past at any rate. You see I’d like to go back to the time when the only monsters I worried about happened to live under my bed or in the closet.
I know my parents would disagree with this, pointing out that no matter what’s I thought I saw or heard, when they went to check there was never a monster to be found. My father reasoned that if there were monsters in his house we would have found proof of their existence in the way of a foot print, hair or at least a pile of poop. (Dad reasoned that no self-respecting monster would be a neat freak.)
But there are other monsters out there. The visible kind the kind the mix and kill others. The kind that masquerade as ordinary humans, hiding in our midst.
When they are caught, or at least almost outed from their status, we see them. We hear of their monstrous deeds or plans. And we shudder because there is always someone standing there saying “s/he was such the nicest person. Would never have suspected this.”
These monsters can’t be scared away with a seen voice or a night-light. And so I’d like to go back to when they didn’t exist, at least not in my world.