The four-footed one likes to watch out the large window sometimes. She will spend hours just watching. Sometimes I don’t even know what she’s looking at out there. I guess it’s the same as when Beloved or I plop down in front of the television and just watch it.
Soemtimes, once we sit down and start watching something it leads to another something and after a while I wonder what we are watching or even why. But it’s easy to just sit there and stay doing what we are doing.
Sometimes you need to just sit and watch, or mindlessly let your time go for a bit. The key is not to stay in those moments for too long. And yet, yet, somehow I can suddenly lost an hour or two or five. Hey it happen!
Maybe I should take up looking out the window instead, even though the four-footed companion seems to spend longer than that at the window. I somehow don’t think I’d be spending the same amount of time at the window. Because there isn’t enough to keep me that occupied, but then again I may have said that about television shows Beloved started watching as well.
My mother used to have a “junk drawer”. It was that one drawer in the house that was where she stored stuff that she might need, some point in her life, but at the same time was stuff she wasn’t likely to need. She’d do a purge of that drawer now and then, when it had a bit too much junk in it.
Her junk drawer was in an odd location, not easy to access so no one else really bothered adding items to it.
Naturally I also have a junk drawer. Mine isn’t in an odd or hard to access place and thus Beloved and I have each been guilty of adding items to this drawer. The last time I went into this drawer was a few months ago. I had a whole bunch of elastic I know I’m going to need at some point in the future, so I put them in the drawer and that was that.
Fast forward to today when I was in need of one of those very elastic. So I went to the drawer and tried to open it. Nothing happened. The drawer did not budge. It would appear it was stuck. Stuck on the junk in the drawer. I grabbed a ruler to open the drawer and get my elastic and discovered that book was crammed in the drawer and that book was creating the jam.
Who would put a book in the drawer you might wonder. It turns out Beloved tossed a note-book in the drawer, which promptly got caught up in the drawer. Evidently I was the first person to try to access the drawer since the book was deposited in it. Perhaps we should rethink this junk drawer of ours. Just maybe.
This morning I woke up with a slight headache. Nothing overly bad, just enough of an ache to let me know it was there. And I went on about my regular morning routine, hoping it would just kind of stay the way it was or leave, which would be better.
Naturally the headache decided it liked my personality and thus it stayed. And told it’s friends to come and join in. What had been a mild ache became a throbbing pain. And naturally this happened when I wasn’t home and not in a place where I had my medication for such pain. So I had to wait until I was back home. By this time the headache was bad enough I wanted to remove my head.
I didn’t though, remove my head I mean. Mostly because I hear that’s a one way, one time deal and I wasn’t there yet. I did take my medication and hope for the best. And the four-footed one felt she should help me get rid of the headache. The thought was sweet. The action not as much as I did not need her loud, non-stop barking right in my ear. And no that didn’t scare the headache away either.
At least it’s gotten a bit less severe so I can do what I need and then just maybe curl up and sleep the rest of this off.
Sometimes you just want to play with your squeaky toy eggs. When it’s one of those times there is nothing that will work as a substitution. No other toy can fulfil that need.
Today was one of those days where the four-footed one wanted her green eggs, which were in the wash because frankly dried dog slobber? Eww. Not that wet stuff is any better so when I can sneak them away to give them a wash, I take advantage of it.
I just wasn’t sneaky enough this time. She searched for those eggs for a few hours. I tried to distract her with other second favorite toys. She was having none of it.
Not only was she not having any distractions she was getting mad. Mad that her eggs were missing. Mad that I tired to distract her. And a mad four-footed one is not easily appeased.
I’m not proud of this friends. But sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. Out of the need to save my hearing, I broke down and provided her with a dental cleaning treat. One that would occupy her for more than the 15 minutes left for operation clean and dry the green eggs.
Where has the day gone? I woke up, got ready for a coffee out with a friend I’ve not seen in a few years. I walks the four-footed one before the coffee, came home and did some light cleaning before doing some work to prepare for the next day. And suddenly it’s evening and I’m not exactly sure where the day actually went.
About the only other thing I can say that I did today was find a USB stick I had spent the last three days looking for. I mean full on panic ensued when I first realized it was missing. As I tried to sleep I would try to remember everything on the stick and panic that there was something highly confidential and I had lost it in a public place.
When I first realized it was missing, a few hours after having been out doing some shopping, I felt my heart start to flutter as it dropped into my stomach. It was too late at night to do anything so I vowed first thing the next day I’d go and see if it had been turned in. And I was fine with that.
Until I tried t sleep and suddenly thought I might have confidential information on it. At that point my heart started to race again and I found myself feeling very warm. Naturally I woke up with joint pain and swelling thanks to the stress I had put myself.
Beloved, in his practical way, said it was somewhere in the house and it would turn up when I needed it. And that’s sort of what happened. You see while getting my stuff moved into my smaller bag, I found it on the floor. It must have fallen off the table and gone behind where the bags were. It wasn’t a place I thought to look.
So I guess even thought I may not know where the day exactly went, it was a good and productive day.
A friend of mine was recently bunny sitting (no not actually sitting on the bunny as I’m sure that would kill the bunny) for her neighbor. My friend said that the bunny, named Polly, was a mere twelve weeks old, so she assumed it should be easy work.
Polly was delivered bright and early to my friend’s house. Complete with her food, water, and pen. While Polly’s owner went off for a short vacation, my friend got into getting to know Polly. And from what my friend told me the first day went off without a hitch.
The first night, however, was a bit different. It seems that when it was time for my friend to retire to bed, Polly was still in active mode. Eventually my fell asleep and woke up around dawn, not because she is an early riser, but rather because Polly is an earlier riser.
My friend had failed to do any research on bunnies and their habits, such as their active times. She also failed to research how often bunnies poop based on her amazement at the amount of output from the cute, tiny Polly. I say this because as she was sharing her adventures in bunny sitting (after the owner had come back) she said it seemed every time Polly moved, Polly pooped. Even more surprising to my friend was how much poop came out of such a small animal. She was sure she’d find poop for weeks after as she had allowed Polly to have some free time around the house.
I may not eat anything with a raisin or blueberry in it from her house for a while!
Time is a funny thing. I posted before about how when we are young it seems to draw by and yet as we get older it slips through our fingers. But time is funny in other ways too and today I was reminded about one of the other funny sides of time.
No matter how it moves, as we get older, it fools us. Once you reach a certain age, you still feel like you can do everything you could when you were younger. Such as climbing trees, running fast or lifting heavy objects. And at that certain age, when you do these things, that feel like it should be the same as before, you are reminded that you are not as flexible, lithe or strong as you once were.
Sure you can carry out those tasks. Once though, where as once upon a time those very tasks were easy to do, repeatedly even if it’s required.
There was a time, back when Beloved was in his prime (before I knew him) where he could sling heavy bags without a second thought. Today when he moved a heavy suitcase for me, he did it. And then told me if I wanted it moved again, I would have to wait until he was up to as he settled into a comfortable chair for a wee rest. If you were to ask Beloved, he would tell you that when he went to moved my suitcase, he had thought nothing of it. As he was moving it, he was reminded that there are many things that one acquires with age, however it comes with one having to give up other things, for him it was realizing that while he could move the heavy bags once, he wasn’t as good at it as he once was!
The four-footed one had a spa day today. She was washed, cut and dried as well as given a bow. Her nails were done and she got a spritz of something fresh. Not because she wanted any of this, but because she needed it.
Friends you could smell her long before seeing her. She looked a bit like a sheepdog with her fur hanging over her eyes. I’m not sure if she liked that, but apparently she loved the smell of herself before getting cleaned up.
And why did she smell so much? Because she had been wet and dried several times. She rolled in something. And then smeared herself in something else.
I enjoy her right after a spa day, she smells fresh and her fur is extra soft. She hates herself after spa day because she doesn’t smell right. Of course it’s probably an insult to her that we are so quick to remove her scent that she works so hard to create in the first place.
And when she is extra ripe, we also wash all her bedding and such. Which means she’s in a bad mood that much longer. But have no fear friends, even though she was cleaned and all, she has already started her new perfume routine.
This is not my favorite time of year. Inevitably Beloved will, in his well-meaning ways, insist that we go to some gathering or another. Where upon people will talk about work, friends and their children.
At some point in the conversation the question will arise about OUR children. In the past we have quickly said we didn’t have children and steered the conversation elsewhere with some rate of success. But in the more recent past we’ve come across very insistent people.
If we are lucky, someone in the group will be aware of my health issues, and gently mention something about it being sad that some people don’t have the health to have children. And that person will help guide things away from this discussion.
If we aren’t as lucky, Beloved or I will say something about being too busy or dedicated to our careers. And then we move along.
The truth is, I have known from a very young age that even if I had wanted children it was impossible. I was also diagnosed young enough with severe enough lupus re was no way I would ever want to risk passing this illness on to anyone. (Sure I know depending upon which study you look at the numbers vary widely, but even if it were just 1%, that would be too much for me.)
Beloved, on the other hand, did want children when he was younger. (This was before I knew him.) However it wasn’t meant to be and instead he got stuck into his career and then stuck with me. For him, being asked about children is a painful question and clearly not something he goes into. He would never dream of invading that personal space of anyone else and he struggle so or accept the at others don’t get why the question can been seen as rude, or hurtful.
You ever have one of those days where there just isn’t enough chocolate to save the day? I mean feel free to insert anything in place of chocolate. But would you want to I wonder?
However back to today. Today started with the four-footed one demanding a walk at 130. Followed by play time. Why didn’t I go back to be Done? Because once I’m up, I’m up. Oh and because the dog is an insistent being. So of course being up that early means chocolate as a reward.
Have a day with too many meetings in top of getting up early naturally qualifies for more chocolate. Follow that up with a commute from heck and we are talking a nations worth of chocolate now. I will leave it at that, but it wasn’t the end of the day.
so naturally when I had a few minutes to myself I went to the emergency stash of chocolate and consumed. All of it. Which means the stash has to be replaced. Which I need to do. But not while I’m still in the frame of mind of needing more chocolate just to recover from the day I am currently in. So I will wait. Until it’s safe to buy it without fear of it being consumed right away.