73

I can't believe I started my daily postings on Ocean when I was just 50! What compulsion! I wrote a book about the first third of my life, the young part, I wrote Ocean about the latest third of my life, the, um, older part. I wrote journals about the stuff inbetween, but I threw those away. Thank God. When you write just for yourself, or at least when I wrote just for myself, I forgot about the part where a writer needs to learn how to edit even more than she needs to know how to write. 

So here I am at the unremarkable age of 73. Though I do think it's remarkable that I am up and running still at 73. When I was a kid, I hoped I'd make it to 50. That was in my gloomy adolescent period. Which lasted past my adolescence, though there were high points. Rarely on my birthdays though. Birthdays started being fun when the kids were born. It took me until then to realize that I really am not a party animal. So, small celebrations with people I love. Plenty special.

Do most people feel this way about their birth date? April 21st always loomed so large in my mind. Inflated, out of proportion to the event, which, after all, is just one birth out of trillions of others. Despite the insignificance of one human, one grain of sand in a multitude of others, I feel, quite selfishly actually, that this date is mine. Forget the fact that the date also belongs to Queen Elizabeth, John Muir, Charlotte Bronte and the less awesome Joe McCarthy. I might note that April, at least in America, is the second least common birth month (February, by virtue of its shortness takes the number one spot). But I think it's the most fabulous. And April 21st? What can I say, it thrills me.

I wake up, check the messages, the emails. As promised, this day's weather is just superb! Best April 21st ever. Sunny, in the 70sF (about 24C). I'm drunk with the spring feel to it. 

Millie is too. A happy pup!

I decide to do breakfast on the porch. With some of the plants outside now, to make it a little sweeter.

Millie isn't convinced that this is a change for the better. She permits a photo, then retreats to wait inside. 

 

 

Next on the agenda? We pick up Ed at the farmette...

 

 

 

... And drive along the beautiful rural roads...

 

 

 

... To the flower greenhouses that are my favorites: Natalie's and Kopke's. Not for the usual annual flower purchase this time. Just a combo pot (or two?) from each.

(Natalie's: "I want to go that way!")

("have you picked something yet?")

("Yes!")

(Kopke's: "not sure I like this cart...")

And back to the farmette lands. Oh, does Millie love walks  in the thick grasses here!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then: lunch with Millie and Ed, at Tati's.

(At home: flowers from Ed)

 

 

After, Millie returns to doggie daycare, I pick up the kids. Sparrow, Snowdrop. I walk Goose, who is at home with a kennel cough.  The kids and I come back with Millie to Sally's House. 

(As usual, both kids fuss over Millie as if she were a delicate little butterfly) 

 

 

And the gang comes over, along with Ed, for a celebratory aperitif. We split a half bottle of champagne and we don't even finish it. This is what a 73rd birthday looks like! 

And there are presents. Lovely ones, picked by the kids, my daughter, friends.

(a photo of me with the three of them)

 

 (wait, lets get the parents into this!)

 

They leave, Ed brings a pizza, we turn on a show that is more my choice than his, though I tend to always want stuff that I know he'll like because it's more fun that way, so it's him deferring to me who then picks something that defers to his taste palate.

And finally, I watch a very special video from my two in Chicago...

And the day comes to a close.

How can I not be nuts about this moment in time when joy, love abound? So much good in my life, our lives... So much! I'm very, very grateful. An ancient 73 year old is feeling very very grateful. And, if I allow myself to ignore on this day the news of the world, I can indulge in feeling just plain happy.

with all my love... 

blue skies

Every year, April days bring the cold, the rain, the shudder, the disappointment. And every year, we are then blown away by the clearing skies, the sunshine, the return of warm temperatures. This lifting of the weight of winter is taking place this week, which happens also to be my birthday week. I've always felt lucky that in places I have lived, the coming of real spring coincides with dates that are personally important to me.

True, there was frost in the wee hours of the morning. When Millie and I went out for our first walk, I could see the white shading to the clover and blades of grass. It quickly melted away though. And the radiant sunshine charged the spirit and the day felt warm and kind. Not too intense. Just enough warmth to bring out a great big smile to anyone lucky enough to spend time outside.

 

Millie is, as usual, full of high spirits. That's not weather dependent, that's just her. I watch my pup trot beside me and I think -- this girl suffers from being too darn cute. You expect less of her because she already delivers at some level. She's cuddly and she is social. She doesn't need to do well in math. Hmm... perhaps I should change my mindset. Henry the serious intellectual, Millie, the charming agility school drop-out. Well, not quiet yet! We'll keep on truckin'.

Zoomies, play, walk again, breakfast, rest.

And then I take some shelving out onto the porch, order another cheap stand to increase the plant space, and promise myself an outing to Kopke's and Natalie's on my birthday for the annual flower basket purchase. If I surround myself with flowers, maybe I can enjoy a breakfast out on the porch when it really warms up.

 

Millie and I have a fun afternoon. An informative one! Here's our order of operations: first, to the farmhouse to pick up a rosebush, to empty the compost bucket, to get more good dirt, to pick up Ed. 

The farmette flower fields right now look so good, so healthy, so perfect. I've always said this -- in spring, the weeds have not yet exploded, nothing is wilted, mildewed, chomped off, misshapen. 

 

 

The question remains: will I be able to withstand it as the need to water, weed, trim, stake, and weed some more grows? I don't know. I hope so.

 

 

 

We pick up the farmette guy for a lunch outing. Him and his two girls! We drive to Tati's, forgetting that the place is now closed on Mondays. Ed proposes our old favorite -- Oasis, but I remind him that only Tat's, no other place in Wisconsin, will allow dogs. But, the weather! Oh, the weather! We could sit outside...

In the drive to Oasis, we pass the park where Ed plays pickle ball. He wants to show me the courts and I have to smile at that. I mean, they are just courts. But he is so proud of his games!  We go to inspect them. Millie likes the walk!

And the run!

 

 

At the Oasis, everyone is huddled inside, many patrons staring down at their computer screens. The outdoor tables are empty. We grab one in the sunshine. Bliss. Truly bliss.

From there, it's back to the farmette, where I finally remember to trim Ed's beard, and then I have another task before me -- the planting of a second rosebush at Steffi's House. 

Now, if you remember, I supervised the installation of a solid fence in the small yard there. I am delighted to let Millie run free. And she does.

And then she crawls right out from under the bars and goes trotting off to explore the rest of the neighborhood.

Sigh... Time to get in touch with the fence installer to see what can be done about this. 

Is that it for today?? No! One more thing! As long as we're out and about, let me start acclimatizing Millie to her new bike seat. Straight from the biking kings and queens of the world! (That would be the Netherlands.)

Here, too, I need to make an adjustment so that I can get on and off the bike without great difficulty. All works in progress! 

No kids today -- school is closed, they're busy. It's just Millie and me, with the occasional appearance of Ed. Still, a fine beginning to a great week. One that just gets better and better!

with so much love...  

 

Sunday

I don't even know what a "normal" Sunday looks like anymore. Early spring Sundays meant, for years and years, garden clean up time. Not this year. And I have to say, though I don't miss it, I don't feel great when I visit the farmette and ignore the weeds, last year's growth, the tubs with dead annuals. I've noticed a swell of irritation as I walk among the flower beds. At no one in particular, though Ed gets to hear it since he's there. Also for many years, Sundays meant dinner prep for the young family. It still means that, but in recent months, I've skipped these more often than not. They're sick, the dog's sick, the weather is lousy, other plans -- you name it. This fall and winter, Sundays meant dog park outings. Well you know how that ended. With a bang. I don't see myself taking Millie to Prairie Morraine -- that huge, beautiful dog park that Henry loved so much. She doesn't need that much exercise and I have a slight fear that she'll be clobbered by uncontrollable big dogs. It's one thing to expose her to them in doggie daycare under the careful supervision of the staff there. It's another to let her loose in a park where any dog can be set free. Too, she tends to pick up things she shouldn't pick up. I can't even count the number of times she has come back from a walk with a food chip or a twig in her mouth. She doesn't need the freedom to pick up anything in an off-leash park. And finally, those parks do present contamination issues. Dogs with parasites. Dogs that are sick. Henry seemed impervious to all that. His immune system had been conditioned by months out on the streets. Millie is far more sensitive to such stuff -- witness her ten days of digestive issues. So, no dog parks. I have to rewrite my Sundays! But not today.

Today is ridiculously cold. At night, we'll have a deep frost -- rare in the second half of April. I'm glad that it's just a few days of this, but I surely am not motivated to do anything adventurous in this weather.

 

Millie and I do start off with what is becoming an established pattern. I get up, she waits, I get ready, then take her out of her crate and we go for our walk. It's short. Because of the weather and because she is more interested in returning home to eat than to walk a mile.

She eats, then plays. I love this wild moment when she is deeply happy. Wild, with total zoomie abandon. Big dog zoomies are... frightening, but Millie is just so darn cute as she runs from one room to the next. (She's way too fast for me to use my camera on her.)

I fix my own meal, take her out quickly again and settle in for my own quiet breakfast. As always, she waits at my feet for me to be done.  

(farmette daffodils)

And right after, we both exhale on the couch.

My newest Sunday activity is to take Millie to puppies agility class. Today is the second of five (or is it six?) classes. 

I have to smile -- it surely is a "be careful what you wish for" situation. I wanted a social pup. One who loves people, other dogs. Millie goes completely overboard on her enthusiasm, not for the class, but for the people who run it, and the dogs who participate. 

Since she is not very treat motivated, getting her to follow my treat filled hand is impossible! Some of the dog parents are dead serious about the class and they remind their pups that this isn't play time, it's time to learn. But when we're in the holding pen waiting our turn, Millie wants to romp, jump, roll with them. And when it's her term to do the jumps, climbs, tunnels, she takes her time, sometimes taking a long pause right in the middle of an exercise. 

I would say that she is the least interested in performing well of all dogs there and perhaps all dogs that have ever taken the agility class! 

 

 

 

She is five months old today and she has lived with me for two weeks and a day. It's not really surprising that she doesn't come when called, doesn't leap on command, doesn't climb out of the tunnel when asked to do so. She is one goofy girl. The class clown, without knowing that she is indeed the class clown.

At home, I just finished an article in the NYTimes, (gifted for you here) titled  In Defense of Dumb Dogs. I thought of some of the dog parents in class today who seemed so hell bent on having their dogs do well. In the article, the author noted that most dog owners think their pooch is above average in intelligence. And I think doodle parents truly do believe their dog is over and beyond intelligent. One reason for mixing retrievers (or other breeds) with poodles is to ostensibly pick up on the poodle intelligence. 

It made me think about Millie: do I care if she is smart or not so smart? Henry was very intelligent and oh so hard to keep busy and stimulated. Perhaps I care that Millie master potty training totally and soon. That she knows I'm her human and will protect her. That she is surrounded by friends. The rest? Nah... She can be joyful ,and bark at her reflection in the window at night, and sit in the agility tunnel all she wants. I don't care who is watching and laughing! 

Oh, but I love that girl!

 

In the evening the young family does come over today. I'm told the kids can't wait -- not to have our meal together, not to play here, not to see me, but to see Millie. The dog who lives for the moment! And she is so happy to see them, to play with them...

 

 

 

She'll let them carry her, even little Sandpiper.

And Goose? Well, I think he misses the big guys. He knows his 100plus pound body could crush the little girl.

So he leaves her alone and finds a comfy spot on the couch.

(dinner)

And where is Ed? The guy has become a pickle ball fanatic. He plays with seniors at the senior center, he plays outside on the courts with the "way younger" set. When he's done for the day, he collapses. I believe he's trying to get past the moderate -intermediate stage. The seniors are not quite intermediate enough, the "way younger" set is a bit past the intermediate stage. We'll see if they can teach that old dog even better tricks! 

In the evening, Millie rests. I should think she needs to recover. It's been a full Sunday.

with so much love... 

 

Saturday

The storms came, the storms left. Most of us had a perfectly ordinary evening. Lights stayed on. Pounding rain did not flood our basements. Trees fell on roads and rail tracks, but not on houses nearby. The tornado passed by to the south, to the north, leaving us alone. I had just one tense moment as Millie woke from an evening nap and clearly needed to go out, just as one storm cell was exploding over us. I placed her on the grass just outside the garage and said a firm "go NOW!" and she did. Phew!

This morning, the cold air swept in. Time for warm jackets again. You can complain and shiver and wish for a better forecast, but honestly, dealing with a cold spell is easier than dealing with tornado warnings blasting on your TV screen all evening long.

Millie had a good night and seems to be recovering nicely from her digestive issues. We walk, we eat breakfast.

 

She naps. But it's just as she's settling in for her couch nap next to me that I notice something about her. The little girl's jaw is chattering. What the heck?

I look this up on the internet. She appears to be experiencing an Episodic Mandibular Tremor. I take a video clip and send it to my vet. 

What causes it? With what consequences? 

These are big questions for which I do not have answers. I'm hoping for "we don't know and don't care" and "none." More vet conversations. Because I haven't spend enough time in the vet's office! Good thing the girl likes it there. She thinks they're all her friends. (Vet's advice -- keep an eye on it and don't worry.)

Millie, you are a medical handful!

("who, me?") 

Playtime: she loves to climb into the toy basket. Funny pup!

 

 

 

The afternoon is an interesting one -- for me, for Millie too. I have her booked for a grooming. She really needs a haircut. Much as I may admire the shaggy dog look, it's difficult to keep her unmatted and sanitary. 

The place I picked is just a short drive away (in McFarland). I like what people wrote in the reviews, and I also like the fact that they go slow. The pups stay with them a full four hours and when they are not being bathed or dried or trimmed, they play with each other. 

I asked for a full doodle cut, figuring it would be easier that way. And, too, I like short haircuts on dogs! They warned me that at her age, she may not have the patience for the whole trim. That she may require a couple of puppy cuts first, before they set the clippers on her full body. 

 

While she is being attended to, I drive down toward the farmette, along rural roads that are so familiar! We have gone this way dozens of times, most trips for me being to the nearby Kopke's Greenhouses. I know that they open for the season today and so I stop by.

A blast of color! 

I am not doing tub plantings this year, nor am I picking up baskets of blooms for the farmhouse porch. Ed doesn't want to bother with the maintenance they require. But he did agree to a purchase of a basket or two for my new home (first Sally's then Steffi's). A birthday present! I pick a pansy one today since I know we are still in a cool spell: pansies dont mind that, but other annuals aren't as forgiving.

To the farmette then, to dig up a rose bush. I want it for Steffi's yard -- it's a total waste at its current location --  seen only by the kids when they walk the flower field path. I also purchased a lilac bush to plant in the Steffi yard. The digging up of the rose is hard enough, but the digging of holes at Steffi's is a real challenge. New developments are notorious in this regard: the houses are build on rocky clay soil. They throw an inch of dirt on top and leave you to it. Most people dont bother planting much in this horrible soil, preferring to just put down sod and get into a mowing routine. I am not most people. Lawns are not my idea of outdoor bliss. 

I don't know if I waited too late in the season  to transplant the rose. I hope not. In putting it in, I felt so much older than when I had first planted the farmette flower fields! Tough digging didn't used to bother me. Now, I was extremely glad to be done with it!  

In between the digging, Ed and I take a coffee pause at Tati's. Just long enough to luxuriate in a break from minding something or someone. 

And speaking of minding someone, by 4, Millie is done and ready for my pick up. She looks like a different dog!

I was always amused when they made my poodle (back in Poland, when I took my dog for a trim) look like a poodle. I preferred him curly and wild. With Millie, I'm more amused. I could do without the fragrance (is it the shampoo?), but otherwise, it's nice to see her tidied up a bit. 

 

In the evening Ed stops by for supper and a movie.  Half an hour of digging and I'm exhausted! It's good to sit back on the couch with him. And her!

with so much love... 

one more time

Warm morning, wild afternoon and evening. Once again we know it's coming. Right when kids will be leaving schools, workers will be returning home. Hail, wind, possible tornadoes. Just in case I did not already feel it to be a crazy week, what with Millie sick, some of the young family sick, we are definitely ending it all with one massive bang. On the upside, we are ending it! The week of floods, damaging storms, crazy swings in temperatures ends today. We'll be dealing with other weather issues -- a deep freeze possible on Sunday! Being a bit of a weather nut in general, I haven't much credibility with my family when I warn them of impending weather hazards, but this time, if anything, I understated the threats. Can't wait for it to be behind us.

I also cannot wait for Millie's digestive system to settle down. She is better. Much better. She slept the night and ate some food this morning. But she is far from recovered. I already have had two chas with the vet's office and they will be calling me again to monitor her progress. 

Millie and I did have a lovely morning walk. Not too far -- the girl hasn't much strength in her right now, but it was early and the sun was poking through a morning mist and the grass sparkled with dew. Really sparkled. A million tiny jewels all around us! The pup's face and paws got wet from it and she looked positively charming with her damp strands of hair around her snout.

 

 

 

After her light breakfast, she settled at my feet while I ate mine. With a special candle adding a glow of hope (it's the one I bought from the shop by the Luxembourg Gardens).

And then it's couch time for the both of us. 

Millie is a tired girl. She wakes up, I give her a second small meal, I walk her...

 

 

 

... she sleeps. That's her pattern for today. Me, I was supposed to pick up Snowdrop, but the nasty weather is attacking us just at her pick up time so I have to leave it to her parents to figure that one out. They live five minutes away from her school. I live a good 20. 

And so Millie and I wait for the storms to hit us. Once again, I'm posting early, because with these storms, the electricity is suddenly an iffy thing.

Let's get the weekend onto a peaceful track already! Phew!

with so much love... 

Millie mess

Another evening storm, more hail damage, not too serious in our part of town. And no, we are not done yet. More to come, tomorrow.

This morning would have been a brilliant one -- partly cloudy. lovely mild temperatures, perfect for outdoor anything. Except this is not how our morning unfolded.

Millie was sick during the night. I had to take her outside and clean up her crate. During our nocturnal stroll, we heard the bark of a coyote. Do they go after small pups if they are with their humans? This I do not know. In any case, our walk was not long. 

In the morning, I see that she has been sick again. More clean up, a stroll outside, no breakfast for her -- she's not eating.

I do my own, by myself. She's resting on the couch.

I can surely tell when a dog is sick and Millie is most definitely sick. But with what? Back to the clinic we go. And yes, she is dehydrated. And feverish. They attend to that and give her some anti nausea meds and suggest some baby food which she does manage to lick up some at the clinic. At home, she just wants to rest. They call and ask for some samples. We drive back to deliver those. And again, at home, she rests. Ed comes over for a brief visit (and helps me install a carrier on my bike). Millie rests.

(On the upside, she is easy to comb today!)

 

 

When I was at the vet's, I asked -- do we want to talk about how often this pup urinates? She said -- yes, but perhaps on another visit as it is unrelated to her problem now.

I have to marvel at how many "problems" I bring to this clinic. So many healthy, happy dogs out there. Mine is high on the happiness scale, but the health issues have been with her from day one. Maybe, just maybe it's all transitional and she'll bounce back like the little kangaroo that she is.

 

 

 

I take her with me to pick up the kids, grateful that I have a luxurious car seat in the back for her. She'll have been using it a lot today!

At Sparrow's house, I keep her on my lap. Not that she asks to go anywhere at all. She sleeps. And then we go for Snowdrop. I tell the kids to be gentle with her today, but then, they're always gentle with her. And adoring...

I've kept the owner of Millie's mommy informed about her progress and he has been "sick with worry" about her. I guess if she were with some stranger, under the care of unknown to me clinic, I'd be mightily concerned as well. And indeed, at night, when I found her in her various puddles, I was stressed. But, on this warm spring day, with the care that she is receiving, I'm totally convinced that she'll pull through just fine.

Hey, no storms tonight! Tomorrow, on the other hand...

with so much love...