65th: Be not forward but friendly and courteous, be the first to salute, hear, and answer; & be not pensive when it's time to converse. I noted with amusement that on an episode of "West Wing" that I saw yesterday, Barlett was reading out of this book and called Washington "A tight-ass little priss" There are 110 of these rules altogether, so we're halfway finished with the book! Yesterday's Entries 2000: No More Adventures CURRENTLY READING Trace
by Patricia Cornwell
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Sheila
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RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY 29 October 2004 I have always been a rain lover. There's nothing I love more than to sit inside watching a storm beating against the window, or lie in bed at night listening to the sound of rain on the roof. One of the Christmases I remember clearly--and I don't have a clue why--was a very rainy December. I can still see myself sitting on the window seat, with the smell of the Christmas tree filling the air, the excitement of presents under the tree, and watching the pouring rain making little rivulets which ran down our hill. Watching the water splash on the windows of the cars trying to get up one of San Francisco's steepest hills. I loved being in London when it rained, huddled under an umbrella, watching the water drip off the edges of the umbrella, feeling protected under the umbrella it self. Sitting inside a cafe near Covent Garden, all warm and cozy, sipping a capuccino while watching people running back and forth in a blinding squall. I loved being in Perth when it rained, sitting in the house, having a coffee, listening to the drops pelting down on the roof of the patio and then seeing the clean air and hearing the chorus of birds when it stopped. I loved being in Seattle when it rained, making our way through pouring rain to see a waterfall. Standing on the platform with the rain beating down on the roof and watching the water cascade off the Snoqualmie Falls. All my life I have loved rain. And then I got a dog. As I have said before, Sheila is a bit younger, a bit larger and a bit more energetic than I originally envisioned--but, also as I've said before, who could resist those ears and that big doggie grin? Or the way she cuddles up next to me at night before we go to sleep? We've done well together, she and I. One of my reasons for wanting a dog, other than companionship, since Kimba has never exactly been my "companion," was to force me to get out each day. In that, she has succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. Sheila doesn't need a lot of exercise each day, but she does need some. If she has 30-60 minutes in the park, running around with other dogs or chasing the orange and green monsters, she's pretty wiped out for the rest of the day. We come home, she has her treat, and then goes upstairs to get on the bed. I don't usually see her until late afternoon, when she has another energy spike. In the evening I spend hours tossing toys for her to fetch while I'm watching TV. If it's still light, I might take the "chuck-it" outside and toss a ball around for her to chase. Anything to let off a little of that energy and then she's perfectly happy. But into each year some rain must fall and we have been experiencing a much needed rain storm. The first rain was last week, where it rained heavily one day and lightly the next. Sheila kept leaping in the air and turning circles while airborn each time I got up to walk anywhere. "Walk! We're going for a walk!!!" If she could speak, that's what she'd be shouting. But, of course, we didn't go for a walk. And she would periodically stand at the back door, looking out to the rain falling on the patio as if she couldn't understand why I didn't want to go out in the rain. Then she ate the earphones to my transcription unit. I mean...what's a bored doggie going to do when she has all this energy to expend and nothing to expend it on? Then she ate the plastic mat under my desk. It's been cracking, but probably could have made it for a few months more. Once she discovered the cracks, she was a bitch obsessed. Any time I was here at my desk, she'd be right at my feet and I'd hear crunching sounds. I don't know what her insides must look like...she loves chewing plastic so much. She also discovered plastic bags somewhere and chewed them up all over the family room. On Sunday, there was no way I was NOT going to take her to the dog park. The rain was gone, but it was still grey and unpleasant, and of course we were the only idiots who were out in that weather. The dog park was worse than I've ever seen it. The earth around here has a high clay content and so when it gets wet, it's very slippery. I had to hang onto the fence just to get into the park without falling flat on my backside again. Sheila was so thrilled to be back in the park she just started running back and forth at top speed, this huge grin on her face. She was covered in mud before long, but she was HAPPY!!!\ (Never mind that she has a perfectly good backyard where she can run, and doesn't, unless I go outside to watch her. Are dogs really little furry children or what?) There were no dogs or monsters to chase, but she didn't care. She was in the park, having a glorious time. After a bit, Walt stopped by on his bike, having just come from Mass. He raced up and down the hill outside the park a few times, calling to her, so she got even more exercise. She loved it. (But he eventually wore out) When time finally came to go home, she was panting heavily, and happily left the park, got in the car, came into the house, had her treat, and then disappeared for most of the rest of the day. The next day we were back at the park again. Things were a bit drier and it wasn't quite so dangerous to walk. Still no other dogs yet, but we played lots of "fetch-tag," she chased the orange monster, and she got a good workout. Again, she came home to collapse, a happy dog after that surge of doggie endorphins. Today the sun does not shine Once again, Sheila is leaping into the air and turning circles while airborn every time I get up. She's staring out in the back yard wondering why I won't go out and play with her. The dog park is becoming another clay pit And I'm hiding my earphones. I can't believe I'm hoping the rain will stop. Website of the Day Here
is a nice ghost story for Halloween, from "Moon Rattled." |
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PHOTO OF THE DAY
This is the entrance to the park--you can't quite
see exactly |
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Created 10/15/04
