Sneaking Up on Today (07/24/06)
. . . which is very boring for Maggie and Geordie. I refuse to leave my domestic cocoon for a walk unless the temperature drops out of the equatorial range, which remains to be seen.
Yesterday, Larry and I went rafting on the Clackamas River with Brian, Paula and way too much food. Maggie and Geordie stayed home with plenty of water and dog door access to the backyard "restroom."
OBLIGATORY TANGENT: I never really understood that euphemism. Do people-- other than narcoleptics
-- actually use them for quick naps? I, for one, cannot fall asleep in a moving vehicle, let alone seated on a toilet!
Even with hundreds of people on/as floating objects-- including the dude on the Aerobed with a three-month-old pit bull terrier puppy resting on his derriere-- the water level remained too low for any real refreshment. Rivers aren't bathtubs, so the idea of a greater number of bodies causing water to spill over the edge doesn't apply here. Several times, I jumped off the raft to swim. After about the forth time, snagged by a rapid where the water dropped to a depth of mere inches, after tumbling around and creating some lovely colorful bruises, I clung onto the river's rocky bottom until the raft caught up with me. I leapt beached-whale-style onto Brian and Paula who were sitting in the boat. Larry sat at the helm rowing. It was an adrenaline moment.
The preferred method of transportation, to my mind, would have been a simple inner tube. The raft was overkill. (And overheat!)
We emerged late, almost missing the opportunity to pick up one of the shuttle cars from McIver State Park. The trip took approximately eight hours, we think, and it was dark at Clackamette Park (named for the confluence of the Clackamas River into the larger Willamette which flows into the Columbia River, which empties out into the Pacific Ocean). Paula and I waited for Larry and Brian to return with the other vehicle.
Two incredibly hungry Cairn terriers greeted Larry and me, guinea hen dinner defrosted for their enjoyment and speediest consumption.
Today, I slept in till noon, postponed my swim until tomorrow. Maggie and Geordie were deprived of their constitutionals,
Laired Maggie /Floundered Geordie
although it's possible that if the mercury falls below 80, we might do a moonlit walk. Or not.
I just announced our intention, and both dogs just rose to the opportunity.
G'night-
Jill, Geordafire, Magcandescent
Last night, after clearing a few chores from my agenda, I settle into bed to read. I read barely ten pages before falling asleep. Cashew-style, Maggie edges up against my back. Geordie lies at the foot of the bed.
My fur-bearing protective perimeters. Pure bliss. The scent of their feet, like corn chips bring an involuntary smile. Just like the Fritos I sometimes found in brown-bagged lunches. Still surprising, still as delightful as it was when I discovered that this is how puppy-feet smell. Like comfort food.
They're my guardians:
A beautiful dream lasts all night and even as I wake. They wait for me before rising themselves and yawning and stretching (yoga, as usual) and leading me to the kitchen. This morning, as always, it's Noni Parfait: Nancy's Yogurt with Canine Essentials. I brush my teeth, start my routine, and make a latte.
Geordie gnaws on the bison bone he started last night. Maggie, scout dog that she is, listens for intruders, and it's her job to go with me (or Larry) to get the paper. Geordie drops the bone and heads out the dog door to his post in the backyard.
The day has begun. Gratitude is what I'm feeling.
The day is ending.
Jill, Maggie, Geordie
When Mag and Geord and I walk the Canemah Cemetery Trail, I lug the camera. After I change my clothes, pack water and leashes and get my bearings, we'll enjoy our walk-- as much as I can. Taking pictures always detracts from the now-ness. Though he is truly "footloose and fancy-free," I may experiment by letting Geordie drag a double lead. If I'm twelve feet behind him, I can step on the leash-- or let the bramble do its Velcro magic.
He is staring at me now.
I wonder if he is reading my mind. His stare is intense but his eyes soft. He just lay his head down. I've just read too much into it. He is waiting for me to finish my yummy cholesterol-lowering oatmeal so he can lick the bowl. He's right in front of me drilling holes in my head (trepanating me?) with his eyes.
Now licking the bowl clean.
Where's Maggie?
Hiding under the futon, of course.
Hours have elapsed. Damn! I am beginning to fade out. We
had a wonderful walk on our usual path this afternoon. It was breezy and in the 70s. I followed Maggie and Geordie with my camera, but one thing followed another, and then there was dinner, and wrestling with my quirky computer, and I've been spending most of the evening sifting through some gazillion pictures I took this afternoon, and now it's nearly midnight.
Sigh. . .
August will start with a "photo essay" of pictures from today's walk, the last walk we'll ever take in July of 2006.
Meanwhile, my dear friend Sybil has allowed me to use a picture of her fabulous puppy, Munch, for yet another Holy Terrier Dog Design "boutique."
Cheeky Cairn Terrier Pup "Munch"
Yesterday, Larry and I went rafting on the Clackamas River with Brian, Paula and way too much food. Maggie and Geordie stayed home with plenty of water and dog door access to the backyard "restroom."
OBLIGATORY TANGENT: I never really understood that euphemism. Do people-- other than narcoleptics
-- actually use them for quick naps? I, for one, cannot fall asleep in a moving vehicle, let alone seated on a toilet!Even with hundreds of people on/as floating objects-- including the dude on the Aerobed with a three-month-old pit bull terrier puppy resting on his derriere-- the water level remained too low for any real refreshment. Rivers aren't bathtubs, so the idea of a greater number of bodies causing water to spill over the edge doesn't apply here. Several times, I jumped off the raft to swim. After about the forth time, snagged by a rapid where the water dropped to a depth of mere inches, after tumbling around and creating some lovely colorful bruises, I clung onto the river's rocky bottom until the raft caught up with me. I leapt beached-whale-style onto Brian and Paula who were sitting in the boat. Larry sat at the helm rowing. It was an adrenaline moment.
The preferred method of transportation, to my mind, would have been a simple inner tube. The raft was overkill. (And overheat!)
We emerged late, almost missing the opportunity to pick up one of the shuttle cars from McIver State Park. The trip took approximately eight hours, we think, and it was dark at Clackamette Park (named for the confluence of the Clackamas River into the larger Willamette which flows into the Columbia River, which empties out into the Pacific Ocean). Paula and I waited for Larry and Brian to return with the other vehicle.
Two incredibly hungry Cairn terriers greeted Larry and me, guinea hen dinner defrosted for their enjoyment and speediest consumption.
Today, I slept in till noon, postponed my swim until tomorrow. Maggie and Geordie were deprived of their constitutionals,
Laired Maggie /Floundered Geordiealthough it's possible that if the mercury falls below 80, we might do a moonlit walk. Or not.
Blindered by the Light
I just checked the temperature gauge. Cooler than 80 degrees. I guess we'll venture out into the out world after all. It's nearly 9:00.I just announced our intention, and both dogs just rose to the opportunity.
G'night-
Jill, Geordafire, Magcandescent
What May Bring Dreams. . .
Larry is out of town for the night in Cottage Grove visiting friends, for he hasn't enough rafting, and he will get some more there.Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Gently down the stream
Last night, after clearing a few chores from my agenda, I settle into bed to read. I read barely ten pages before falling asleep. Cashew-style, Maggie edges up against my back. Geordie lies at the foot of the bed.
My fur-bearing protective perimeters. Pure bliss. The scent of their feet, like corn chips bring an involuntary smile. Just like the Fritos I sometimes found in brown-bagged lunches. Still surprising, still as delightful as it was when I discovered that this is how puppy-feet smell. Like comfort food.
Sweet Maggie
Geordie gnaws on the bison bone he started last night. Maggie, scout dog that she is, listens for intruders, and it's her job to go with me (or Larry) to get the paper. Geordie drops the bone and heads out the dog door to his post in the backyard.
The day has begun. Gratitude is what I'm feeling.
The day is ending.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream. . .
Sweet dreams,Life is but a dream. . .
Jill, Maggie, Geordie
Goodbye, July (07/31/06)
He is staring at me now.
I wonder if he is reading my mind. His stare is intense but his eyes soft. He just lay his head down. I've just read too much into it. He is waiting for me to finish my yummy cholesterol-lowering oatmeal so he can lick the bowl. He's right in front of me drilling holes in my head (trepanating me?) with his eyes.Now licking the bowl clean.
Where's Maggie?
Hiding under the futon, of course.Hours have elapsed. Damn! I am beginning to fade out. We
had a wonderful walk on our usual path this afternoon. It was breezy and in the 70s. I followed Maggie and Geordie with my camera, but one thing followed another, and then there was dinner, and wrestling with my quirky computer, and I've been spending most of the evening sifting through some gazillion pictures I took this afternoon, and now it's nearly midnight.
Sigh. . .
August will start with a "photo essay" of pictures from today's walk, the last walk we'll ever take in July of 2006.
Meanwhile, my dear friend Sybil has allowed me to use a picture of her fabulous puppy, Munch, for yet another Holy Terrier Dog Design "boutique."
Cheeky Cairn Terrier Pup "Munch"
He sort of resembles those life-like stuffed Cairn terriers that go for the price of live ones-- on eBay.*
*DISCLAIMER: Munch's breeders and I strongly disapprove of the buying and selling of dogs online. We neither endorse nor approve of these UNSCRUPULOUS breeders . Rest assured that neither they, nor I, I nor any responsible breeders I know sell their dogs online!
*DISCLAIMER: Munch's breeders and I strongly disapprove of the buying and selling of dogs online. We neither endorse nor approve of these UNSCRUPULOUS breeders . Rest assured that neither they, nor I, I nor any responsible breeders I know sell their dogs online!
Coppin' out till tomorrow,
Jill, Jorge, and aMaglia
Jill, Jorge, and aMaglia
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