Do you remember the days some of us used to watch Saturday morning cartoons? Often called the funnies? When I was a kid, the one TV in our home was in my parents' bedroom. Sneaky of them, wasn't it! They kept the bedroom door shut when they were in bed and so the TV was basically off limits weekend mornings. No funnies for us. In those days, Sunday morning TV was loaded with game shows for kids. You know the type -- picture Price Is Right or Wheel of Fortune, only with kids filling in as contestants, with challenges that are geared toward a younger set. My school friend's dad was in some way connected to CBS -- a network that had its share of these shows. The taping of them took place on Saturday and there was one such Saturday where a snowstorm kept many of the scheduled contestant kids home. I happened to be sleeping over at this girl's house and her father asked if the both of us could come to the studio and take part in the show. They were desperate for contestants. My parents gave their very reluctant permission.
I was chosen to be in one of the games -- a stupid one where my eyes were covered with blinds, and where I had to find a big round ball. If I'd succeed, I'd be showered with some toy gifts that Mattel or Ideal or one of the big players dumped on the network for advertising purposes. The thing is, I could see from underneath the eye cover. So I found the ball quite easily. And then was tormented afterwards by the fact that I won the loot dishonestly. Of course, the game hosts wouldn't have cared had they known. They just had a show to tape and air the next day. Just rewards were not at the forefront of their thinking. And in the end it didn't matter, because my parents, no fans of capitalism, did not allow me to take the toys home (and they were indeed dumb toys -- lots of plastic, little value). But there was still the thrill of appearing on that Sunday's TV program! At around 9 I believe. My parents' bedroom door remained closed, but I pounded on it and again reluctantly, they let me in. I was excited: my TV debut! My parents slept through it. To their credit, they often kept late hours due to receptions and diplomatic functions, so there as that. Still, as they dozed, I sat on the floor, watching myself move toward the ball, seemingly blinded, but also dumbstruck, as I drew nearer to my "big win."
* * *
Wild weather swings! Warm two days ago, Freezing yesterday, warm this afternoon, chilly as anything tomorrow, warming up again Monday. So, where do we fit in this morning? Well, just below freezing, with a gusty wind. But the cut off point for me is clear: no sweater for Henry. I can't be making such difficult decisions before breakfast, so I stick to my 25f (-4c) rule. And we are not below 25f.
I'm thinking we should walk up the block just a little, but this proves to be a mistake. My apartment building is extremely pet friendly and so they keep the sidewalk salt to a minimum. The businesses and hotels around us are quite the opposite: salt abounds. I quickly retreat to our usual up and down and all around our building.
(oh those rivers of ice...)
It's so windy that a warm shower seems absolutely blissful afterwards. And breakfast? Even more so!
Henry eyes me suspiciously afterwards. Are you gonna do those timed release photos were you run back and forth between me and the camera?
(my big hound...)
Yes Henry. Because I love you so much...
* * *
Here's a funny thing: I'm waiting for my lesser but probably better smart bird feeder to arrive. As I noted, the original one went back to Slovenia. Or somewhere. Hopefully not the dump. (That's the trouble with sending things back -- the items you reject often wind up in a landfill.) In the meantime, I scattered some seeds on the balcony table. And I have a flood of birds coming to it. Finches, sparrows, and a couple that look awful much like woodpeckers but I am not smart enough to tell you for sure. (Ed had commented -- why do you need to see videos of birds at your feeder? Isn't the purpose of a feeder to get the birds close, so that you can to see them with your own eyes? Otherwise, why not just watch bird videos on your computer? But of course, it's all an exercise in learning about birds -- their habits, their song, and their identities. This is where a smart feeder becomes very helpful. It's your teacher.
Henry is fascinated by this sudden onslaught of feathered friends out there.
(that cardinal is not on the tree -- it's a visitor to the Edge balcony!)
I'm not sure he expects to ever chase them, but he is definitely on the fence as to whether they require a woof or not. So far he is on the side of no woof. The apartment remains a place of quiet for him.
* * *
Ed comes over soon after. We are to take a walk with Henry. It's weekend exercise time! But first, a few essentials.
Like, Henry's greeting of Ed.
Then, I have an errand to do: I want Ed to help me take over the big packages to my daughter's house. They are ridiculously cumbersome and it's impossible for me to imagine carrying the stuff over on Christmas Day, with Henry pulling at the leash.
Ed is not a Christmas guy, but he is a great helper when asked to step up.
The young family is away and indeed, they have a house sitter staying there with the animals, but I am determined to do this while I have Ed's help. I leave him to carry in packages while I manage Henry and their dog Goose.
I have the worse end of the stick.
Henry has always played with Goose off leash and indeed, this is what they do when they spend the day together at doggie daycare: they are free to saunter, jump and tumble. My pooch does not like being tied to me and he tries every which way to free himself. In hanging on to his collar I accidentally unsnap it, sending him flying across the yard in total abandon.
So now I'm holding on to Goose and trying hard to regain control over Henry and I'm thinking -- these dogs are way stronger than me!
Eventually, both dogs are where they should be, the presents for the young family are under the their tree (well, next to it, as the boxes are crazily large), Ed and I get into the car with Henry, and let out one big exhale. Or I let it out. Ed is in a perpetual eye roll mode during this project.
* * *
We drive over to Prairie Morraine dog park. The big one with the long trails. Henry, of course, loves it to pieces.
Ed and I have a tougher time: there is ice everywhere. Slow going for two elderly types who do not wish to crack their bones on it with a fall.
If you stick to the main path, you can avoid most of the ice.
We do not stick to the main path.
And neither does Henry.
Despite the ice, it's a beautiful walk! A happy walk!
* * *
At sunset, Ed returns to the farmette animals. I'm left with my usual triangle of feelings: I love my space at the Edge. I love living so close to school pickups and to my daughter's place. I do not love living 13 miles away from the farmette and Ed. Those sixteen minutes each way (so long as it's not rush hour) is about fourteen minutes too long. Funny how much a cliché fits the moment: life is full of compromises. The hope is that you make the right ones at the right time.
with so much love...
