still snowy icy and cold

If I had to choose one -- predictability or surprise,  I'd say I am more like Henry (who loves predictability) in the mornings and evenings, but am game for random capricious events popping up wildly, or at least impulsively in between. If you're seeing a pattern to my mornings, one that verges on being nearly the same, every single day, well, you'll know that Henry and I are happy with this. So much so that I hug him and bury my face in his warm body excessively then, for the sheer joy of having a loyal pup at my side, equally pleased that not much varies in his life at sunrise.

So yes, he came over and tried a lick of my hand at 6, I told him go back to sleep, he did, returning at 6:30, and this time he gets a big smile out of me as I roll out of bed to greet him. Routine now firmly established.

I'm not quite sure how it can feel prickly, misty, and  damp when it's well below freezing outside, but this indeed is how the day starts out. It reminds me of winter in central Europe. The unpleasant side of it. Henry, however, seems oblivious to such fault finding. There's snow, maybe forever for all he knows. Best to enjoy it.

And his delight and familiarity with the terrain make our morning walks really, really awesome. 

Oh yes. The snow helps!

 

 

 

Once inside, I tidy up and start in on breakfast. His first, then mine.

Perhaps you noticed that my coffee mug is missing a handle. An unfortunate slip yesterday (not Henry's fault!) led to its breaking off. Well, no matter: during our morning snuggles on the couch...

... I search the internet for a new mug. It has to be large. Sixteen ounces. And it has to be special. I cannot explain why a coffee cup should be anything but a vessel for my morning brew, but to me, the mug is an important component of my early day routine. The setup matters. My sheep cup was chosen by me because I have a warm spot for sheep in Scotland. What should I replace it with? There's little that I like. Finally, after wasting an hour on this, I find an agreeable option on the Target website. Perfect for the holidays. And only $5 (which means it's too cheap for them to mail it to you, but that's okay -- Target is a five minute drive from my place). 

I drop off Henry at day care just after 9:30. Always the same. He's delighted to be going there.

And now comes the more random mixed-up sometimes messy sometimes fun part of the day. First, a trip to Target. So many smiling employees, so little information on where I might find that 16 ounce holiday reindeer mug. I'm told it's surely in section 38A with the cheap holiday decorations. Where is section 38A (they dont mark them for customers)? Eventually I find the section, but not the cup. Ask again. Try with the more expensive Christmas items, in the diagonally opposite side of the store. No, not there either. How about in housewares? Back to the northwest section for that. Ah finally. Christmas mugs. But no small reindeer in a scarf. Indeed, all the visible mugs are horribly ugly -- like the Christmas sweater you don't want to own -- garish and ridiculously overdone. 

Lesson learned. What's online may not be in the store. I look carefully at their other mugs, to see if there is anything else that will do. And lo! Hidden in the back of the shelf is one solitary cup with a simple scarfed reindeer on it. A Christmas miracle!

(later, at home)

From there I aim to drive to the farmhouse. But across from Target, there's Skechers, the shoe store. Is that a coincidence or what?!  Here's the story: when I was at my daughter's for Thanksgiving, I walked Henry every hour. Except for the one time bed wetting, in the first week with me, Henry has never had an accident at the Edge. But he has had two at my daughter's house. That's because he gets excited, and there are several big bowls full of water in their kitchen. He runs, he slurps, and yes, twice he just couldn't hold it in. So now, when there, he gets walked by me. A lot. I put on whatever shoes are in their hallway, because it's always just a quick jaunt -- in and out -- I needn't struggle with getting into my own shoes, I go for the easy option -- her shoes. And I marvel at the fact that her winter boots just slip on. No kidding! You step right into them. The boot is obviously not super high, but it's adequate for some snow on the ground. And it slides on! I almost stole the boots from her, but she is a size 10 and I am a 7.5, so I felt that perhaps I should buy my own. Yet I hesitated. The boots are Skechers, so not very expensive (it's faux everything) and on a Thanksgiving sale, they are really inexpensive. Nonetheless, I've had a lot of purchases lately (I'm looking at you, Henry!), so I held off. But now, fate has led me straight to a Skechers store. 

I go inside.

I buy the slip-on boots. Heaven to be able to put a sweater on Henry, a harness, a leash, all of it, and my own coat and cap and gloves, and not have to additionally bend down and fuss with shoes. (Did I tell you that older people spend their days looking for ways to avoid having to bend down?)

Eventually, I make it to the farmette. I say eventually because I realized that I forgot to take with me the dish of baked onions-mushrooms-beans and cheese that I made last night for me, for him. Back to the Edge. Reverse, back to the farmette.

I'm in the farmhouse, we talk strategically about possible futures that await us, time passes. I do not have kids today (or tomorrow or the next day, the schedule being a mess because of their performances) and Ed and I had planned to go skiing in our local park, but now those farmhouse lazies seep in and I just feel like staying put. Watching the deer outside is enough activity for me.

 

 

 

When this happens, the one who feels less lethargic does the coaxing and indeed, eventually, Ed gets me up. I dust off my ski boots and my skis. Off we go.

I never regret our trips to the park, in any season, but I especially love the path we take in the wintertime. The park on one side of the road has real ski trails, but as we drive up, I point out that they aren't groomed yet. That's a shame (if not after this snowfall, then when??). But the silver lining is that we can just go to the section of the park on the other side of the road. There are never any groomed trails and no one ever skis there. Except us, because the path leads us to the forest and in the winter it is totally quiet there, and beautiful.

It's dark by the time I return to the Edge. No sense in melting the screen door now with the hair dryer. That'll be tomorrow's project. For now, I pick up a happy and healthy Henry (he got a good report card from the vet!). We come home to our evening routine, which this month begins with our advent calendars. Henry needs no prompt today. 

 

 

 

With good reason: door number two has a food treat behind it and I'd taken off the wrapping, so that the scent led him right to it. He was so enthusiastic about the big (too big!) doughnut cookie inside the compartment, that he decided to go after the entire advent calendar, just in case it would reveal yet another large doughnut. (I made sure he stopped with door number 2.)

That's my puzzle for the day. And the remains of door number 2. The puzzle is slightly harder -- it takes me 30 minutes (I do them without looking at the picture -- Ed says looking at the puzzle picture is cheating and since these are not otherwise demanding, I stick to his methods), and again thematically relevant! A dog!

[It reminds me that yesterday, I finally received the photo from the Santa Paws charity event. Henry, who is indeed chopped off, looks like he can't wait to get away from Santa.] 

 

 

 

with lots of love... 

for the birds

Yes, I know this about myself: I go through phases. Gardening was a big one. Lasted from 1980 until 2025. Guitar strumming was my love for only a handful of years. Baking? Oh, that stayed with me for decades as well. Then there's birding. I love birds. They're beautiful and mysterious and full of personality, one that I do not really understand, but then who does? For a while, you may recall me listing birds I'd heard that morning. With a bird identifying app, you can go far! And then I stopped writing about birds. Or about cheepers. Or sandhill cranes.

When an interest recedes, it never really goes away. It just stays dormant, tucked away for a better time. I suppose that's what spiked the whole lollapalooza about Henry. I love dogs and now I am at a better time for them.  

So about birds: though I listened and tried to watch for them at the farmette, there was little I could do to support their habitat. I'd talked to Ed about bird baths and bird feeders, but there are problems with both: with six hunting cats, we wanted to discourage rather than encourage birds to come to us. Too, I'd read a lot about bird disease. Feeders and baths have to be well maintained (think: empty and wash and disinfect at least every couple of weeks) because germs spread and we do not need that among our dwindling bird population. Finally, there's a discussion about whether feeding birds encourages some to stay the winter, believing that they have a reliable feeding source, whereas the reality is that they don't. Your piddly and unreliable feeder is a mirage, a temptation that has no backing. 

For all those reasons, I reluctantly stayed away from this project. Until I moved to the Edge.

There are workarounds to all these issues and with the absence of cats or squirrels up here on the fourth floor of the Edge, I have the major problem licked! I can put up and maintain (reliably, all winter) a bird feeder! I'd ordered one on a black Friday sale. And I waited until Henry was once again at doggie daycare to go to the bird store to purchase some bird food.  

All this, of course, after checking off a huge number of chores that had piled up, what with Henry at my side, without pause, for four days now. What about our wake-up time? Well, Henry did try for 5:55 again, but I played 'possum and reluctantly, he went back to his bed for another thirty minutes. I suppose I could have humored him, but it's the principle of the thing! I need to learn how to occasionally say "go away." Or play possum. 

(good morning, Christmas tree!)

 

 

Before going outside, I glance at the weather on my phone. What?! 6F/-14C ?! Well that's a fine way to welcome in December! 

We stay out just long enough for him to bark at a sweet child getting on the school bus (really Henry?).

To be fair, she seemed ghostly in the early morning light, but still...

Breakfast. With Henry hiding his dental chew as usual. 

And then our couch time. Funny how evening couch time with Ed has been replaced with morning couch time with Henry. What is it with me and couch snuggles?

Eventually I take him to day care and begin my drive around town. To the post office, where I get scolded for putting the return address on the back of the envelopes.

Don't blame me! This is an established company that always prints the envelopes this way!

Well they shouldn't. If an envelope flips, our machines will recognize that as a send to address. Dumb machines! 

Then to the vet -- Henry needs one more test and so I need to leave some stuff for them. Next -- a return package to send off. And grocery shopping. (Are you yawning yet?) And finally, my favorite by far -- a trip to Birds Unlimited. The salesperson reassures me that this particular local seed mix will feed those birds that have stayed behind. Well of course she'll say that. She works in a bird food store. Still, I'd read enough to know that she is more or less correct. I buy feed and an additional cube of seeds which I can hang up right away.

Or can I? I bring this stuff home with great enthusiasm. My love for birds is surging. I open the balcony door then tug at the screen.

It wont move.

It's frozen solid. Iced over everywhere. There is no way I can get it to open until there is a thaw, which according to the forecast is never.

I'm not giving up! Tomorrow I'll pick up the old hair dryer that remains at the farmhouse. Surely that will do the trick?

And now it's time to pick up Sparrow. Then Snowdrop.

In between the two, I have a half an hour to do the following: take Sparrow home, pick up his drama clothes and her drama clothes (best guess made as to what those should be), release Goose, walk Goose, crate Goose, drive over with Sparrow to Culvers to pick up something that will resemble a full meal for the both of them, along with gaga fruit, in the car, and then finally drive over to get Snowdrop. They have a dress rehearsal for their Shaw play tonight and I am to get them there by 4, an intriguing  assignment given that Snowdrop is out of school (on the other side of town) at 3:45 and there is a nice sprinkling of icy snow coming down now and slowing down the traffic. We do our best! The kids are in great spirits. Nothing else matters.

 

I pick up Henry soon after. He's ready to come home. And I have a treat for us. Well, for me really, but Henry gets to keep me company for it: He and I both have advent calendars. 

 

 

Mine reveals a small jigsaw puzzle. Fifty pieces. Every day a new one. His? Dog treats of course. A toy today. I teach him to go for it!
 

Yet another squeaky something that he will likely destroy in the fifteen minutes it takes me to do my puzzle. Oh look! It's of a bird today! Two of them in fact.  How appropriate...

Later still, I call Ed to tell him he can now stream additional movies on our joint account. As we navigate the set up by phone, Henry gets impatient. He never was one for my phone conversations. It takes him no time at all to chew through my dangling charging cord. It's dangling no more. Oh, Henry! I get off the phone and look at his big pleading eyes. You're okay, my sweet pup. You're okay! 

 with so much love...

 

the quiet day

Didn't I say just last week that Sundays, going forth, would be hectic? That quiet moments will be elusive? That I need to be ready for a packed weekend schedule all the way through January? Well now, life is full of surprises. With the younger family's trip up to Wisconsin cancelled, this day is suddenly very quiet. Moreover, with the performance schedule of the big two kids here substantially altered, next weekend as well will be... relaxed. The point is -- do not take my predictions seriously. Sometimes they turn out to be just plain wrong.

Here's another prediction that failed to deliver: the six o'clock wake-up by Henry. He did not come over to wake me until 7! Yes, 7! That is a first. I have to thank the snowstorm I think. He had had a very active day.  

We are out a few minutes later and of course, it is a substantially brighter walk. I was delighted to see the sidewalks already free of snow. I hadn't heard the snow removal machines this morning, but they certainly were out early. 

Henry was a little confused: where does he do his stuff? It took a few walks up and down for him to pick up scents that finally taught him that yes, he did have to plunge into the drifts. Not that he minded terribly.

The snow is of course lovely. We got nearly 10 inches of snow yesterday. These may not be Alpine levels, but for November in south central Wisconsin -- remarkable!

I can see that Henry is taking it in and I'm sure hoping with all his might that the leash will soon be removed. Not on this walk, my sweet boy, but soon. I promise, soon.

Inside -- breakfast. No big family brunch, no big family anything. This day is slated to be totally open, with Henry and me setting the schedule.

He naps, I read, he wakes, I say -- Henry! Time to hit the trails at Prairie Morraine!   I never know which words are already clear associations for him. Too, I wonder if he recognizes landmarks as he stares out the side window of the car. Eventually, "we're going home" and "we're going to doggie day care" and "let's go for a walk" will be clear as anything, but he is still so young!

We get to the Prairie Morraine park before 10 a.m. It is still very empty. Maybe half a dozen cars in the parking lot. I am thrilled that it is well plowed. Well, the driveway and parking lot are plowed. Some of the trails are lightly used, but many are still pristine. And did I say this already? It is a stunning scene of snow, and snow topped trees and grasses, with sunshine poking through the occasional puffy cloud. Really beautiful!

Henry makes friends with dogs easily (people are harder for him: he needs to spend a few minutes making sure they're good humans). He has mastered the skills of reading dog signals and he knows who is friendship material.

He also knows who to avoid, but of course, he often has no say in the matter. There was a dog who was huge, fast, and clearly not spayed. He was interested in Henry's playmate and attacked Henry when he came anywhere near. This was the first time that I actually shouted at the owner to get his dog under control. You do not aggress against my dog! (Nor should he take his dog to off leash dog parks, period. But many people do, and the more difficult the canine, the more they want to give him or her some off leash time, unfortunately.) Luckily, the owner leashed his hound and went in the opposite direction. 

Henry resumed his friendship, but it was of short duration as they went one way and I continued in another direction. For most of the walk, it was just Henry and me.

Honestly, I'd happily go back again this afternoon. Henry loves the place: it checks all his important boxes: freedom to romp, but with me nearby. Other dogs to run with. And today -- snow to eat! 

(Time to go home, Henry! Two more minutes!)

 

We come back home tired, happy. We both settled down on the couch, his snout nestled in the crevice between my back and the couch. Phone rings. The big two kids need a ride to their drama rehearsal. The snow removal people haven't yet come to remove snow. Could I drive them over?

Henry, we're going for a car ride! I think he knows those words by now.

 

And of course, in the late afternoon, I take him out to a dog park again. The nearby one: Penni Klein. Yesterday, it was pummeled by snow when we braved our way to it. Today the driveway and parking lot are plowed but slippery! That ice! 

The park is nearly empty and that's fine, but I'm happy when a friendly dog joins us. Henry runs with friends. 

 

 

 

Sometimes he'll fly to me as well, but usually solo walks in parks result in a gentle trot on his part. As if telling me -- I understand, you're old, I'll keep it to a slower pace. 

A quiet day means that I should work on holiday preparations. And I do get to some of them. For example, I decorate the tree. Not fully. I think all my ornaments would overwhelm it. I'm selective this year.

I hang my fake wreath on the door (tell me you would not have guessed it's fake had I not told you!)...It's saved by the fact that it has tiny white lights (which the photo hides). Otherwise, well, it's not what I would like to hang there. 

Henry is of course resting. You may be wondering if I take him to dog parks only because he then gives me quiet time at home. But I see it as an added benefit. I take him to the off leash parks because he loves them and I love watching him let loose and be all that he wants to be. The snow, of course, make these outings extra joyous, for him, for me. 

It's been a wonderful weekend. I miss the Chicago family, but I will see them in a couple of weeks, so there's that. In all other ways, it's been grand here, in snow-covered Wisconsin.

with so much love... 

 

wild

It's late morning. I'm sitting on the couch, rubbing Henry's chin and asking him seriously if he's feeling a little wild today. On the floor are the remains of an indestructible penguin toy. I thought I'd picked up all the stuffing but no, tufts of white remain scattered on the floor, the carpet, the couch. Just a few minutes ago, we went out for our second walk of the day. My normally obedient walker was jumping in the air, grabbing his leash, doing zoommie circles around me. I took him to the dog courtyard at the Edge so that he would leap and lunge freely and he did. Again and again, but as my fingers began to freeze in the guaranteed-to-be-warm-but-are-not fingerless gloves, I had to cut his romp short. Still, we walked, he played. What more could he want! 

What he likely wants is to show me his wild side. His untamed free spirit. His youthful vigor and impishness. And who am I to deny him his own unique expression of joy? But oh my, it takes a strong hand and a unwavering patience to deal with a Henry who has discovered the pleasures of snow.

 

Having gone to bed a tad too late, being rather old-ish, and still having a slight cold, makes me a poor candidate for expressing to my pup my great happiness at having him here. Especially at 5:55 -- his greeting time this morning. 

The snow storm, predicted to begin at night, actually arrived at 6 a.m. It's not one of those beautiful ones where fat flakes quickly create a thick puffy quilt of snow. The snow is icy and constant. Henry, who is this year new to a northern winter, takes a moment to process it all...

Making sure that the world has not otherwise changed, apart from this interesting shower of white stuff that surely is falling for the sole purpose of a pup's enjoyment!

I give him time to sniff it out. A good half hour walk. In the dark.

And now, finally, it's time for a hot shower and breakfast.

Yes, Henry does nap then, but by 9, he is ready to go out again and this time, his whole pup self is more than ready for it.

And he does his wild scamper and I just try to remind him that the leash means he is under my control. Of course he grabs at that little inconvenience. Of course he does. After all, there's snow. He can do anything! He is Henry and he is alive and life is so good!

This is when I take him to our dog courtyard, where he is allowed to let loose his FRAPs (that's the scientific name for what he is doing: frenetic random activity periods). 

And only after we return inside, and he has begged for all the treats he can get out of me, after destroying one toy and lining up the next candidates by the window, does he again settle down for a late nap. 

(total contentment, his and mine) 

 

Only to want to go out again, a third time, just before noon.

 

There's no question in my mind but that he needs a dog park. Penni Klein is the closest. Yes, there's a blizzard, but surely they will have kept the highway open, and it's only one exit away. 

It is slow going. A six minute trip takes... many more minutes. And I hesitate at the park entrance. That's a mighty long driveway, and it obviously hasn't been plowed. I leave the car on the main road and we set off on foot. Henry likes pushing through the snow and I would have perhaps liked it more if I had proper snow boots on. Well what does it matter. Wet socks will dry. We persevere.

At the dog park, he is thrilled to be set free. There are two other dogs cavorting near the entrance, neither of them especially friendly, if you take their growls and yaps seriously. Henry takes them seriously and backs away, happy to walk the "path" just with me.

 

 

I suppose only nuts like Henry and me, and the occasional dog owners who can't stand to have their dog growling and barking at home would make it out to the park on a day like this. 

 Oh, but Henry loves this snow event!

 

 

We don't stay too long. I'm concerned that the car will get snowed in. I don't have a shovel. Not even an ice scraper. Poorly prepared!

 

(selfie!)

 

 

We push against the wind and make our way back to the main road. Wait, where is the main road?

 

 

 

In the end, I'm glad we went. Henry and I have a date with the younger family to help trim their tree. Yes, my wild one is going to participate in that sacred tradition, that one that requires the greatest delicacy and care. Better to go when he's had his fill of outdoor romps.

We set to work on the tree and yes, the dogs keep their crazies down to a minimum. Of the three kids, Sparrow has always been the most dedicated decorator.

 

 

 

The other two help as well, with breaks for being cute and playing with the dogs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And with important breaks for all of us, to munch away at the cheeses and snacks prepared by my daughter. And yes, Henry is at the table taking it all in and hoping against hope...

 

 

 

The tree survives. Dogs, kids, all of it!  Better today than yesterday, when one of the kids pulled at it (by accident) and it toppled down to the floor, all 9.5 feet (nearly 3 m.)  of it. 

Oh, how regal it is! So big! So beautiful. 

(traditional song)

(traditional picture)

 

And then Henry and I hurry out. At least I am near houses with people who have shovels! Still, it's snowing hard now and no, these residential streets have not been plowed. Why bother when the snow will continue for many hours still.

I am very relieved that I live less than 5 minutes away. Well, a good bit longer tonight, but we made it!

(Henry, near the Edge) 

 

 

Wild weather! Really wild! No wonder my sweet and loyal dog does leaps and twists in the air. If not now, in this early and frankly beautiful snowstorm, then when?

with so much love...