living in the Edge

Is it living on the Edge or in the Edge? Well, I feel that I've had both. I've moved quickly and some would say dangerously into new ventures, and I've gone from living in the farmhouse to living in the Edge. Technically, the apartment complex (there are two buildings) is called the West Edge, but I like my nickname better.

I've lived in, visited, inspected many any apartment building in my life. But I have never seen a place that cares so much about making its residents happy. The premises are maintained exceptionally well, but I suppose you can say that about many apartment buildings with a competent management. At the Edge, they go further: they are playful in their approach to the everyday. They have seasonal decorations, they organize resident events, they talk to you as you pass their desk in the lobby. And they love dogs. 

I will likely be moving again this summer, but I will surely miss living here. It's that kind of a place. You return home at the end of the day feeling so lucky as you open the door to your apartment. Everything works. Everything is convenient. True, by American standards, the spaces aren't large and they aren't "posh." Right now I don't need large and I certainly don't want "posh." What I have here is perfect for this year of contemplation and reset.

 *     *     * 

It is bitter cold this morning. Just as predicted. -3F/-20C. Well Henry, what can I say: we're having that Arctic blast coming right at us. 

(Henry puts all his favorite toys by our bedroom window. It's his secret special place.)

 

I had purchased additional sweaters for Henry -- they're all too small and have to go back, but this one works. At least for this year!

(at the Edge: a Santa and a tree)

Henry, should have I purchased winter booties? Because your paws seem to be hurting. And the sidewalks have so much salt!  Hmmm...

Upstairs, I feed him, then make oatmeal for myself. This weather calls for oatmeal!

I glance at my bird feeding station. No visitors so far. (The bird you see is part of the metal bird feeder pole.) I'll be patient.

Couch time.

 

(when Henry curls up to sleep, he looks almost normal sized!)

 

And then I drive my sweet pup to doggie day care. 

*     *     * 

A few quick errands and I am back at the Edge. They have set up a hot chocolate station for the residents -- with toppings, treats and quite good hot chocolate. I have the perfect cup for it -- my second new addition!

I stay for a while. It's my social moment and with an adopted dog now, I feel I am one of the pack here, as one resident after the next appears trailing a pooch.

 

  

I discuss the issue of dog shoes. Most dog owners tell me they're worth trying, though not all dogs tolerate them. I feel that this is the ultimate betrayal of Henry's wild canine genetic makeup, but on the other hand, the winter is long and the salt is horribly prevalent, especially in this rather corporate neighborhood. (Residential blocks are less salty by far.) And of course, as this morning's walk demonstrated, Henry's paws are sensitive to the bitter cold. I know Henry will manage without booties. But that is not the question I'm asking myself: I want my pup to have a good and joyful life. Will booties help? Can't tell unless I try. 

*     *     * 

I work on a larger Christmas jigsaw puzzle for the rest of the morning. I got one that is my idea of just lightly challenging -- sort of like the books I'm reading. So, 500 pieces only, and with a lot of detail, so that I'm not stuck with matching endless pieces of sky or some such monotonous background noise. The goal is to be done in two days. 

I am fully aware of the decadence of doing this. For many reasons. Fitting together pieces of a puzzle is so nicely pointless. (Sort of like putting up a bird feeder when there are no birds.) And it is something that Ed and I could not agree on: he hated the mess of it at Christmas time, because he was especially sensitive to the proliferation of stuff around the holidays. All clutter from his perspective. I tried once and then watched him retreat to the sheep shed to "get away from it all." Over time, he tolerated holiday madness much better, but I didn't push it with the puzzles. Nor did I have the time to complete one in two days. But here, I do. And it will be done before he shows up this weekend.

*     *     * 

In the afternoon I have three visitors: my daughter, Sparrow and Goose. 

 

 

My girl needs to borrow something and so they stop by here before picking up Snowdrop. Tonight is the first day of their Shaw performance, but I decided not to go. Yes, I know, this speaks poorly of my grandmotherlyness. What loving elder person wouldn't attend a Shaw play where two of her grandchildren are making an appearance?

Well, this loving elder person! Both of the kids opted out of the assigned larger parts and stayed with minor roles. It is not worth getting doggie babysitting set up for me to watch a three hour show late into the night on the other side of town, where the kids are hardly on stage at all. This is my justification. Both kids are dramatically inclined and their appearances in theater productions are therefore numerous. Serious stuff: Shaw, Shakespeare. I do try to go to most. But not all. Some day when they receive their Oscars, they will not be able to stand on stage and say --"and thanks to my gaga, who supported us wholeheartedly and faithfully attended every performance we were in." 

The threesome stay for just a bit. Enough for Goose to leave his scent. I'm sure it'll drive Henry nuts tonight when he tries to figure out why his home suddenly smells of his best pal Goose and a thorough search will reveal nothing, no other dog at all.

(Sparrow studies my puzzle)

 

*     *     * 

I pick up a sleepy Henry. Was it the cold outside that wore him out? The end of week exhaustion? Or is it that we have above us a Cold Moon  supermoon -- they say we wont see one like this again until 2042. (Were I to live that long, I'd be nearly 90.) 

My tired pooch is not so tired that he forgets about his Advent Calendar. A treat again! A large gingerman cookie. Let's hope it's nutritious, though judging by the treats so far, I can't say I have confidence in that.

 

I'm nearly done with the puzzle (having, according to Ed, cheated all the way by looking at the picture), though I'm not rushing the last pieces. Like the ending of a good book -- the last bits should be savored. Finished maybe with a milky coffee, tomorrow morning.

with so much love...