We love him! He's very gentle, loves to fetch, and so far poops in the same spot.
Sweetheart? Roasted Pig? YOU Decide
I got my B this Jazz Fest poster of Gatemouth Brown and just picked it up from the framer. But they messed it up, and the frame I special ordered and waited patiently for is all wrong. I thought I could live with it, but I can't. So I'm going back today to have them get me the one I wanted. This is going to take FOREVER. I hink next time I'll do something else.
We're adoping a greyhound, something I've wanted to do for years. Here's the one we want, on the top of the page. You can click on his picture to see a full size picture. This guy is a retured racer, hence the cool racing name, who is being returned because his people are getting divorced. He's supposed to be very sweet, and, most importantly, he likes being around little kids.
Suzanne says we're twins. I think she might be right!
It took me about three weeks to recover from this semester and its aftermath, a wrap-up which included some heavy disappointments for me. However, I have reached the point where I am taking all of this as a good sign, because it means I can go back to doing what they pay me for and pull out of the endless projects, meetings, readings, etc. that were completely draining my time. I have learned, in three short weeks, to say no. I have also reached the point that I can let go (for the most part) some deep resentment of a few individuals. This may sound like nothing to you, but for one who takes pleaseure in writing people off and holding a grudge, it's a real surprise.
Generally I have found the blog community to be funny, light-hearted, and supportive, but over the past few months I have encountered some pretty rude comments, I've had polite emails ignored, and recently, when someone sent out a general call for readers of a manuscript I said sure--I'd love to read it. (See how generaous I am!) Well, I practically had to go through an audition process--where have I published, who am I reading, where is my work online, etc.
This weekend my son was looking out of the window and said look at the mommy raccoon with three baby raccoons, and I sort of ignored it, because he always confuses squirrels with raccoons. Not this time--he was right. There was a mom and three babies balancing on the fence early in the morning to make their way to our garbage. I though I had seen some raccoon prints the other day, but didn't think much of it. These guys are so funny to watch. There was a mom with two babies that used to come see me every day when I lived in Springfield. She'd stash the babies in a tree and then come take saltines and cat foot not quite out of my hand, but almost. They have the funniest way of eating--the eyes in that black mask are on you all the time, but the hands are moving in odd directions, shoving the food in.
Blogging is such a strange thing. You get a few minutes, log into your account, then write about what is on your mind. One day you may be elated, the next you may be dejected. You may be in the mood to talk about your sex life, your children, the current issue of Poetry Magazine--whatever. You just write what you think, spell check it (maybe) and publish the post. All of this is done in the privacy of your home or office, and while you know that anyone can get to your blog and read your posts, you don't really think about that--or mbe do you.
I think over the summer that I will try to be more daily in my blog writing. Yesterday and today I have had the feeling that there is a huge weight on my chest because I am angry and sad about some things I recently learned. Usually when I feel this way I can start writing--either working on a poem or writing in my journal--but yesterday that wasn't good enough. I wrote and wrote--lots of nasty details to use in two different poems, then I fell asleep and wrote some more. But when I woke up I felt like the wind had been kicked out of me still. All I wanted to do last night was watch a funny movie, so I did, but that didn't do it either.
There was a wedding in my husband's family this week. For most this would be a joyous occasion. For them, it is a time to unearth all past wrongs and trangressions, grudges and animosities, and cram them into the back of the Methodist Church. How do I fit into this? I don't. I stay out of the way with a casual look so that no one will think I am involved in the mess. This time around I did stand by Grampy in a show of support, because it was a very uncomfortable situation. At one point, Grampy, who I consider to be an upstanding man, was looking for a way to smear a dog turn on another family member's car. Things went downhill fast at the world's trashiest reception which followed.