mixed

Must everything be a mixed bag of the sweet and the sour, the beautiful and the gross, the joyful and the sad? 

In the early afternoon, I came over to the farmette. I have to do my taxes today. There's no other time for it before April 15th. If I want Ed to answer questions for me (he's much more finance-smart than I am), if I don't want interruptions, this is the time for them.

But on the short walk from the driveway to the farmhouse door, I paused and looked around me.

It feels so... bucolic here!  

 

 

 

As if I stepped out from the concrete world of an urban landscape into a nature preserve. It's all new growth, old growth, wood chips and old trees bent in weird shapes, it's out of control Scilla Syberica -- that blue flower that peppers the lawns and invades the flowerbeds and I dont mind it a bit, because it's so pretty. It's also creeping charlie that I see is a real threat this year in my flower beds, because I didn't pull it out last fall. Snowdrop's mom told me that the girl misses more than anything (more than her favorite deceased cat, more than my two now missing dogs) being at the farmette, like in the nearly 11 years of her life, with all flowers blooming, Ed taking up the couch, but always offering her a spot on it, the chickens even -- those poop generating machines that forced me so often to wash the bottoms of the kids' shoes because inevitably they would step in the chicken messes. I get why she misses it. As I look out at the hundreds of daffodils now ready to pop into bloom...

... I think -- I miss this landscape. And then I bend down to pull out just a handful of weeds at my feet (there must be millions begging for my pull) and I think -- why didn't I notice how much work there is here? Did I block the time suck, the oppressive feeling of never being done? Or was it that the moment of bliss, out on the porch at breakfast, when I would take in the beauty of it -- made me believe that it was worth it?

*     *     *

I wake up at the usual early hour but I force myself to stay in bed for a while. I had a month, just before the arrival of Henry, where I had mornings like this one -- no dog to walk, no chickens to feed, no reason to rush out of the comfort of the bed. I liked it, but after a while, I got nervous with that idle wake up. Each time, I had to come up with a reason not to linger just a few minutes more and sometimes that reason wasn't so obvious. Ed often works or reads from his comfortable nighttime spot (and he falls asleep in his comfortable couch spot). That would drive me nuts. I am like a little puppy that likes routine and predictability -- at least enough of it that I can do the daily stuff on autopilot, though always leaving lots of time to come up with new ideas for the day. And to daydream.

Breakfast, a meal I used to hate in my childhood, now my favorite...

... and then I head out to the bakery because it is, after all, Easter weekend and the family will be over on Sunday and I should do something over and beyond the usual.

And then to the farmhouse.

*     *     * 

I dont know about you, but I am not a fan of doing my taxes. It takes so long to do it by hand! And yet, today, it was kind of okay. I was back in the farmhouse, spending time there over and beyond time I usually spend on a visit. Ed and I would put in a comment, he'd add some advice, and the rain pounded outside and the cats moved freely from one spot to the next. What's there not to like?

*     *     *

Big day for me tomorrow. It's been such a mixed week, a tough one in fact, but I am not giving up on working with dogs, though this time, I'll be bringing home a pup that is very young, so that I can take charge of her socialization. And she is of known parentage. There are a lot of good, calm, friendly guard dogs that make great family pets. Mixes of Rottweiler, Pitt bull, Doberman, German Shepherd, Chow Chow, Belgian Malinois -- the dominant breeds identified in my two pooches. But there are also too many that are too protective, too reactive, naturally defensive given their histories and their DNA.  They deserve great homes, and love, and calmness, and patience. And some will be saved (Sadey). And sadly, some wont (Henry).  But that sadness I feel for my two lovely big dogs cannot stay with me as I turn toward Millie, who is coming tomorrow. She deserves a joyful welcome and 100% of my attention. And she will get it.

 

with so much love... 

wet

I know, I know -- April showers bring May flowers. I suppose I should consider myself lucky -- we have entered a period of daily rain and at the moment I do not have a dog to walk. At least not in the physical meaning of ownership. Sadey is still constantly on my mind. Getting up without her greeting, taking a shower without her licking the shower door, going downstairs and ... not going out immediately for a walk with her. Okay, so the rain and mud outside make this part at least a bit of a relief. Short-lived. Breakfast without Sadey is a sad state of affairs.

I've paused my usual reading to dive more deeply into dog books. I used to do this with dogs I cared for many decades ago, but I haven't gone back to it this time around. People are much more likely to watch video clips that address particular dog issues that worry them, but we don't look for a comprehensive overview anymore. Much of what I've learned about today's science on dog care and dog training comes from dog classes and dog people I've met out there. With the occasional video and online report thrown in. But the book approach is so much better! It gives a fuller picture, covering topics you don't know are relevant until you read them and think to yourself -- wow, that' useful information! Lesson learned: just because you raised dogs in the past does not make you well equipped to raise dogs today. The science has changed. Dog ownership has changed. Dog availability has changed. It's a brave new world out there!

Just before noon, I meet up with Ed for lunch at Tati's. His idea and one I like. Our neighborhood coffee shop is adored by residents, but it's a very theoretical adoration. The place is almost always empty and they have been cutting back hours as a result. If we don't use it, I'm sure we'll lose it. 

And then I'm back on kid duty: pick ups, feedings, and transports to Sally's House. 

(yellow boots on a gray day)

 

 

 (at Hubbard Diner)

 

 

(running in the rain)

 

 

(Sally's House games)

 

 

Because I do not have a dog at doggie daycare, I let their dad pick the kids up here. Funny how much Henry and then Sadey shaped my day! Transporting them to the other side of town took time. And yet, I felt I had to give them that play experience. You learn a lot about dog socialization in the pup literature of today. A quiet home for the day is not exactly a great way to get your dog to feel comfortable with other canines or their owners. Doggie daycare isn't just there to address their separation anxiety. If done well, it serves many good purposes, in the same way that schools, when done well, are essential for a kid's full development. And indeed, both Henry and Sadey were exceptionally adept at managing play with other dogs. My next dog will most certainly have doggie daycare hours as well.

Ed comes over while the kids are still here. Sweet guy is helping me put together a lawn mower. (Okay, "helping me" is inaccurate -- I'm not doing any of it.) The young two leave, he and I linger on the couch, I fix a light supper. Like old times, though once the strong storm warnings come at us, he's off to look after the farmhouse animals.

A quiet evening for me. To reflect, to read, to burn my candle -- of hope this time. For the well being of sweet Sadey. I love you, old girl, I really love you.

with so much love... 

April

I had a debate with the kids yesterday in the car -- isn't April the best month of the whole lot of them? That was my position. Perhaps not the first half of the month. Not in south central Wisconsin. But once you've filed your taxes (April 17th this year), you are on the path to the sublime.The kids argued in favor of May. I get it. May is beautiful. May is warmer. May is colorful. But that first blush of the growing season is downright inspirational!

Only today doesn't feel especially inspirational. After bouncing around in all directions, the temps settled down to a cool range that feels more like early March. And this is the day I'm to place Sadey in her new digs. It's a gut wrenching move for me, driven more by my aversion to risk, rather than my conviction that this is absolutely the best move for her. I think it is, but I can't be sure. Which makes me feel awful. Because what if it isn't? What if her new people dont love her as much as I do?

I take her for a longer morning walk than usual. To the bike path and prairie fields that spill out toward the farmette. There was a prairie burn here a few days ago. Sadey takes in these new surroundings.

This is as close as she will ever get to the farmhouse, which is sad for me. Though I suppose no dog will ever feel at home there. Ed has stuff scattered all over. Not in a dog friendly fashion. And of course, the cats rule there now -- all three (Dance, Unfriendly, and Pancake)  regard it as their domain. Three cats that do not want to make friends with any human (aside from Ed and me), let alone a dog.  

At home, Sadey and I go through our breakfast routine...

And then we do her version of a photo session. Henry sat still for a photo shoot. Sadey runs and jumps and cavorts all over the place, regarding this as a joyful event, all about play rather than some silly picture taking moment.

(How about some selfies, little pup? I can't stop photographing you today...0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She rests next to me, we go out for another walk, I give her a favorite toy to lick and then we head for her new place. 

(the famous Sadey smile)

 

 

I wont expound on the sadness that I feel -- different than the overwhelming grief I had with Henry, but no less intense. Sadness at not having her on the couch next to me. Sadness of not burying my face in that wonderful smell that is uniquely hers. Sadness because she loved me and I loved her. Sadey Sweetness, Sadey Sadness -- one and the same for me.

 

I go to the farmhouse, I hang out with Ed, leaning heavily on his shoulder., I return home. Yukky empty place without a dog in sight. Quiet and lifeless. April coming in with a slump. 

On the upside, the farmette showed me the first daffodil in full bloom.  

 

 

And a Lenten Rose.. 

 

 

Sigh... I do have great hopes for the girl. I must. And there will be a dog here soon. Not a rescue, because I just cant face another traumatized pup. Their anxieties have overwhelmed me. Turns out I'm not made of hard stuff after all. I'd make a lousy foster parent to canines. Letting go is not a skill I possess.

with so much love... 

 

miss awesomeness

It had been my dream to have at least one large dog by my side in this next decade of my life. Two may be a challenge, but I felt up to even that. It looks like I may have to let go of that plan. I am on my second large rescue and for the second time, I'm dealing with behavioral stumbling blocks that are more than I can handle. It's true that with the first pup, the problems exploded and became insurmountable, while in the case of Sadey, I truly think they are surmountable, even though I am not the person who can easily surmount them. 

Sadey is in fact a wonderful dog. She came to me at a time when I was starting to lose Henry.  They got along beautifully at the end, but he was too far gone to save. She, on the other hand was not. Is not.

It may appear that I never bonded with Sadey in the way I did with Henry. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love this girl fiercely. She is the most huggable dog I've ever met. She begs for my attention, but in a non menacing way. If I'm busy, she'll wait for it. A model child! 

They weren't wrong over in Texas when they described her as "pure sweetness.". She is a total love bug. And her stranger anxiety isn't like Henry's. She doesn't attack. Or at least not in the way Henry did.

Why do I think she needs a different kind of home than what I can offer her? Because I am afraid of her going the way of Henry. This may be in my head, but it's there -- that fear that she will get more protective.  (She is quite the guard dog.) That I should keep her away from strangers. There are all these what-ifs that are pounding away at me. What if she barks at every person who comes here? What if the dog park experience (where she did bark persistently at a chosen few) grows beyond the fences of the park? I love that girl so much -- I could not go through another rerun of the Henry story. 

Sadey has a great chance and I have found a good option for her. Without Nervous Nellie (me!) holding her back, she'll likely thrive. But oh, I will miss that great big hulk of dog next to me on the couch!

So, no big dogs coming my way. Because honestly, I am at this point not capable of taking in another large rescue -- not one that could well develop protective responses that are so hard for me to work through. So, unfortunately, I'll have to scale down my expectations. No great big rescue mutt. And certainly not two great big rescue mutts. More like a predictable small sweet pup. For my great big dog cravings, I'll have to go over to Goose's home and snuggle with that hunk of a dog who actually likes most anyone who comes up to him for a hug.

 

We have another one of those weird warm days. I'm not protesting! At least not yet. Ask me again after the storms pass through!

Breakfast.

Play, rest, go to doggie day care. One more day of playtime for Sadey at Happy Dogz. I buy groceries, I go to Ed's...

(snowdrops!)

 

... and I come home. Sadey is leaving tomorrow, but I dont want to pack up her belongings when she is here. I want to get them in the car now, without her questioning gaze. Oh, that Sadey gaze! How can I not cry at losing this girl with the loving eyes? A dog with a thousand kisses?

p

I pick up the kids, one, the other, we come to Sally's house...

 

 

 

 

 

... and toward evening we drive over to get Miss Awesomeness. 

 

 

 

More tears, sure, but it's not as if she's heading to a bad outcome. It's us who have the bad outcome. I will miss that girl with all my heart. 

 

 

 

with so much love... 

 

adjusting

There is always a period of adjustment after I return from a trip. The time change of course, though I was so tired that I slept long and hard, so there wont be much jet lag this time around. The unpacking -- that too. It's weird to be unpacking for a three month stay -- that's how much time I have left at Sally's house. For example, do I find spots for items purchased (because this time, I did add two tiny pillows and two tiny dishes)? But I know they wont be of much use this spring. So it's a careless temporary placement of items that have meaning to me. Feels odd.

Too, it feels super strange to be in Sally's House without a dog. I moved here for Henry. And then Sadey. She is still at Camp K9 because I could not pick her up late yesterday. And we are in a period of dog transition. There's some movement this week (I think) as to who stays where and when. So I'm dogless for the day, but maybe not for long? I don't know yet. Feels odd.

Then, too, there's the weather. The always confusing, always unpredictable April weather, and it does feel like April here right now. Indeed, today it feels like June. Warm. Before the storms move in tomorrow. And the cold returns. I suppose that in itself isn't weird. It's just April.

Here's a nice thing: I did return to a super clean house. For the past 15 years, I have always felt compelled to wipe down a mess or two or three on the day of my return. And the next day it would continue: tidy up, inside and outside. No such tidying needed here! I left the house in a state of total neatness and thus is remained. 

I unpack, I sit down to breakfast. It's actually warm enough to eat outside on the Sally porch, but the view there is so ugly (garages and a mound of dirt on the lot next door) that I don't see the point. I stay inside. 

There's much to do of course. Boring stuff like laundry. Building a new dog crate. Working out a budget for the month. And here's a sweet errand -- a drive over to the farmette (all of two minutes away so why didn't I walk? I do not know...), to see if anything is blooming. And it is!

More errands: Send a package, take over some Snowdrop stuff that somehow made it to my suitcase. And pick up the kids.

But it isn't a normal pick up in that I cannot bring them to Sally's House. I leave them at home and go to Camp to pick up Sadey. 

By all accounts, she had a wonderful stay. Pictures show her playing with dogs outside and snuggling with caregivers inside. Her report card was full of praise. She is such a sweet pup when you give her that ounce of freedom, when you dont ask of her to keep her woofs to herself. Still working on figuring things out for her. For this pup with a heart exploding with affection for her people! Easy to befriend. Easy to love. 

 

From Camp, I have to take her to the vet (for a booster shot)...

 (who is driving this car anyway?!)

 

... and then, finally, we're back at Sally's house. A house that is empty without a dog in it. Tonight, Sadey rules here once again.

with so much love... 

going home

I call this a double whammy: not only do we have an early morning flight out of Paris, but, too, Daylight Savings Time starts today in Europe. Considering our bedtimes of late, I'd say we got very little sleep this last night in Paris. On the upside, leaving this early means that the traffic out of the city (on a Sunday no less) will be minimal. (The traffic at the airport, on the other hand is always hellacious, especially in the mornings.) And here's another upside -- the Baume now starts breakfast early enough for us to grab a couple of croissants (and me, a cup of coffee) before we leave.

 

 

 

Snowdrop feels a pang of sadness as the spring break, one that she has long awaited, draws to an end. She asks me which day was my favorite. Such a difficult question! I smile at her choices -- second on her list was the rainy day in Nice -- she thought is was so atmospheric, what with the drizzle, the umbrellas...And yesterday in Paris! The lunch, the museum... But at the top of her list is that first sunny Nice day where we fit in a climb, many many walks, the old town, ice cream, the beach. I suppose I did not really have a favorite. For me, it's a package of jewels, all shiny, all tucked into a bank of grand memories.

 

One last look out the window, onto our quiet street...

 

 

 

She walks down, I ride with the suitcases...

 

 

 

And we're off. In a cab, with tinted glass, so the views out onto Paris are just a little hazy, which seems right for a departure.

 

 

 

We are on a Delta flight to Detroit. Familiar stuff.  Crowded airport, but somehow we move rapidly through one line (detax), then the next (check in), then the next (passport control), then the next (security), then the next (bus to flight). Snowdrop tells me she is tired. Well yeah! 

 

The flight out is delayed, but it hardly matters. We have quite the layover in Detroit. And then to Madison, coming in just before 6. Her family greets her, Ed greets me. Hi gorgeous. You had a good time? I did. I really did!

with so much love... 

 

a Parisian Saturday

One last day in France. One last day in Paris. Yes, I am always so very happy to be going home. Retired people have that luxury of not having work start the next day. I like my doggie, child-filled, Ed hangin' in there world! And yet, there's always the feeling of wistfulness. A good French adventure, coming to an end. No matter how many pillows and pitchers and plates I bring home, they wont put Paris on my couch or table. Vows to read more French, to study in greater detail the art, the cuisine once I'm back -- they're like intentions you set in a yoga session. Goal posts to give continuity and meaning to your travels once you've returned, at the same time that you know much of it will float away into thin air as you busy yourself with being home.

Snowdrop and I were lucky. Our first day in Nice was drizzly, but thereafter, the sun came through for us every single day. Even in Paris, albeit with a few clouds and a chilly wind. Today, the rain predictions fizzled once again. A light sprinkle from a passing cloud. Nothing more.Clouds, yes, but with a burst of occasional sunshine, a breeze that properly belongs to March. Good walking weather.

And so we shall walk. After breakfast of course. (The girl polishes off 5 croissants in addition to her cereal. You'd think I'd been starving her!)

Afterwards --  a most disconcerting hour on the phone with Air France -- the vendor of our tickets for this trip. I called because last night I got locked out of my account. The agent said -- good thing you called, you seem to not be on the list of passengers for tomorrows flight (home).

Say what??

This has never happened to me before and they offered no good explanation for it, but for some reason we got cancelled out. They of course blamed Delta. In any case, they needed to rebook us, on a different flight no less. What was most disagreeable about the whole thing was the fact that it took forever to set the record straight. We did not leave le Baume until 11 a.m. and this set our day on a treadmill that I would have liked to have avoided.

I discussed walking options with Snowdrop. She wants to aim for the Eiffel Tower. It's a frequent goal for us in part because it is such a nice walk. You can take it all by the river, you can weave your way through the quiet neighborhoods, or you can do a combination of both. Or you can get all crazy about your schedule and rush from one end of the city to the next. Guess which path was ours today!

And yet, it is one lovely walk. 

 

 

 

The highs were obvious. We made it all the way to the Eiffel Tower, stopping along the way at this place and that. A splendid walk and of course, the views at the end were so ... unmistakably Parisian!

Here's the issue though: I purchased tickets to the Musee d'Orsay for 1 p.m. It's hard to guess two weeks in advance exactly when you're likely to be not too far from the museum on that day, but I had to decide, because a new exhibition had just gone up, and this one I knew about well in advance. So I chose 1p.m., figuring that we'd be done with whatever morning routine we had chosen that day and perhaps, too, it wouldn't be too crowded because all of France eats lunch between 1 and 2. 

All that was good reasoning, but the walk from the Eiffel Tower to the Orsay is not short. We had to gallop to make it in time for our booked slot. Too, it was to be the day of grumpy people. Grumpy French patron of the arts with his dumb pony tail (I'm being unkind, I take it back) telling us not to rush. He hadn't a reserved ticket, we, on the other hand ,had to fit into our slot. 

But here's a real high: the special exhibit at the Orsay on Renoir and love is exquisite! Absolutely fabulous! 

(is the dog Renoir's Toto or is it Millie?)

One of my favorites ever. It brought the joy in his art right to the forefront, and of course there was plenty of information about paintings that I'd studied before but knew little about except that they were very fine and lovely to look at.

(each person in the painting identified, explained...)

(Renoir's daughters: "the younger one is only a year older than me!")

Once we finished our walk through the Renoir halls, we decided to give at least a handful of minutes to the Impressionists on the 5th floor. It's just fun to be there, especially if you dont have an agenda.

 

I asked her about lunch then and she was hungry enough to vote for Cafe Varenne, where she knew there'd be fries at the very least. 

Cafe Varenne has never disappointed me. I go there every time I am in Paris and 99% of the time it is just perfect.

Today fit nicely into the 1%. Oh, the food was just fine. She loved her filet of sea bass and fries. My white asparagus was a bit mushy and the poached eggs were variously ready for consumption, but good enough. And still, for the first time in all the decades I've been going there, the waiter was one big grump. He didn't like that we switched tables (with permission). He didn't like that I preferred an appetizer serving of the asparagus (I reluctantly switched to the bigger portion). He didn't like that we were in the path of "delivery" when we waited to have the passage way to the toilettes unblocked (we left). In all, he was disagreeable possibly because he was who he was -- a person who felt tired after an exceptionally busy lunch period. 

It would be ridiculous to give up on the Varenne after one bad waiter day. Totally ridiculous. And yet, I felt that I had maxed out my repeat visits here. It's not close to where I stay. Even though I am such a regular, I'm not in their eyes a regular. It's always crowded at lunchtime. It's too big a meal and too expensive to fit into the lunch budget. The pleasure has always been in watching the place hum so perfectly. Without the that special hum, it's just another good cafe/restaurant in Paris. 

From there, we went to the food halls once again. Just for the fruit. And then finally to our hotel room. But not for long! Snowdrop really really really wanted to go to the Luxembourg Gardens playground. It closes in late afternoon so I barely got a chance to throw down packages and we were out again. 

I'll admit that being in the Gardens on a Saturday afternoon in good (enough) weather is pleasant. We strolled to the climbing structures, she tried them out once again, commenting that soon her age will preclude her from using them (it's for kids up to 12, though violators abound). It hit me then that she is that old already. Wow. Considering that her cousin turns 8 today (Happiest Birthday, Primrose!!!), I have kids all around me that are really growing fast.

Our last dinner? Her choice. She wanted Les Editeurs, she got Les Editeurs. We've eaten so well that had she chosen a dessert crepe for dinner I would have gone along. 

(Les Editeurs: packed, inside and out...)

And home, to our room on the fourth floor this time. Repacking everything is one big chore, but I do it always with an eye to where we will next have these suitcases -- back in Madison, where maybe, just maybe the first daffodils will be opening up.

with so much love...