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My thoughts released; a mind set free |
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These pages contain my thoughts, from meandering ideas and persuasions to deep cerebrations and serious mentations. Why, for what purpose? To release my mind and set creativity free. Somewhere inside the constraints of my mind dwells a writer, a poet, an artist who paints with words. In here I release those constraints and set the artist free. Perhaps, lost somewhere in the depths of thought, is a story or a poem, waiting to be written. |
| Yes, this is my third attempt on the third day of trying to write something here. As I quote myself, but seldom say it these days, life has been a big plate of fuccaroni and cheese (and not the good cheese, that powdered crap that smells like dirty socks. I don't even remember what I was first going to write, since I didn't save the few sentences I had started before being interrupted, distracted, and yanked back into reality. I know, "Save often!" And, I do if it's serious writing, but when it's not, there isn't any sense in saving because I won't be able to pick up that thread of thought. With all this reality getting in the way, it was only a matter of time before I had to let the excreta hit the thermantidote and try to get things back into some semblance of order. If you've followed my blog, you already know I have a new puppy; if you haven't followed, I have a new puppy. Anywho, Max is now fourteen weeks old, or three and a half months, and is doing pretty well. He does pretty well if his routine and schedule aren't fubar, which they have been since last Thursday. I've been trying to get things as close to normal as possible but have not been getting much support from Max's other family members. It seems like there was a bit of a mutiny attempt. I know it's because I've spent so much time working with Max and giving him so much of my time. However, this was all discussed prior to getting a puppy; everyone knew it would be a lot of work and I was elected as the best person to take up the challenge. Of course, it's not just family, there's a big change coming on the first of February and that's also created more demands on my time and more interruptions. I also made a devastating mistake by telling my neighbor that all the interruptions and distractions are driving me sane. (Yes I did say that right, being off my rocker, it makes sense) Anyway, our neighbor is a pretty nice guy, but he's got this critical fault; when he hears something is upsetting someone, he can't help but also do something upsetting. So, while visiting last Sunday, it slipped out that all the crap going on was driving me stark raving sane. Now, he is adding his bit to the problem. I'd throw in the towel, but Max would likely grab it and tear it up. Besides, I have a shit-ton of things to get done over the next week or two, if the front apartment opens on the first as planned. So, the only option available is to keep on keeping on, give it back as much as they give it, and keep my focus on what's important, my vegetable can list. I don't have time for a bucket list so I had to use an empty vegetable can... |
| Today has been another scrambled day, which is only fitting since it's been an out-of-whack week. I know life is topsy turvy and we never know what each new day will bring. Weeks and days like today really do mess with Max, however, and it makes training a bit difficult. He does well, surprisingly well, in fact, but disorganized days do affect him. Monday school was out, so we had two teens distracting him. They do pretty well, but they can only resist a cute, new puppy for so long. It's not that they should, Max is a family member and it does him and them good to interact. Unfortunately, it seems they show up just as our training is getting going, or right when he gets relaxed and ready to nap. My wife's aunt passed away earlier this week, so she left for the funeral this afternoon, which has him messed up. He looks forward to her return from work and spending some play time with him, which he didn't get today. Our daughters are adopted and did not know Dorothy and I only met her a couple of times, so I'm staying home with them and Max, who wouldn't do well with a puppy-sitter and wouldn't handle that long of a drive. It only makes sense, but I still feel bad not being there to give support and comfort to the rest of the family. Max seems to pick up on this as well; he doesn't understand it, but he picks up on it. I'm a bit disappointed that we weren't able to go out walking for his leash training, it's been tough with the weather, and he needs a lot more time walking on a leash. I'm hoping tomorrow we can spend at least fifteen to twenty minutes walking, and maybe even get out twice. On the bright side, since the day was messed up and his training schedule was altered, I decided to spend our school time (training session) teaching him a new trick, shaking hands. He struggled with it, but received a lot of love and praise, along with treats, even though I had to show him each time. After ten minutes of working with him, he was tired and getting bored, so we went outside and played a bit, then when he came in, he took a nap. After he woke and we went out for him to go to the bathroom. It's our routine, when we come back in, for him to come over to my chair with me and do the tricks he's learned. First, he sits and gets a treat, then talks and gets another treat, and just a few days ago, learned to gently press his muzzle to my lips (kisses) for another treat. I thought I'd try and see if he would work a bit on shaking hands, so I told him, "Shake." He lifted his right paw and set it in my hand. Yes, he figured it out and does quite well for it being the first day with this new trick. Tonight we had supper and then I took him out. He usually plays a bit before falling asleep around nine, but tonight he really fought going to sleep. He does this some every night, like a little child he just doesn't want to go to sleep and will try and do anything to stay awake. But, tonight was worse and I spent almost an hour trying to get him to lie still and relax. I'm sure it's because his "mom" isn't here. Tomorrow should prove interesting since he gets up when she does, and she won't be here until later tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to stay positive and hopeful that we will still have a productive day. Fingers crossed and all that mumble-jumble. |
| Max just turned three months old last Saturday, and he's growing way too fast. Not in the meaning of faster than normal, he is right in his size and weight range for his age, but he is so much bigger than he was when we first brought him home. We put him on the scale the day after we adopted him and he weighed seven pounds. Saturday he tipped the scales at twenty-two pounds. Training is going well, but it's a lot different training a Husky than it was with some of our other canines. He's very smart (maybe a bit too smart) and learns fast, but with his intelligence comes very strong stubbornness. He knows his name and comes all the time in the house, but when he's outside, he finds all sorts of distractions and will completely ignore me. I'm still trying to figure out a way to overcome this, and I'm hoping I can find some solutions online. As far as tricks, he learned to sit first. It took all of one ten-minute training session. The problem is, once he learned to sit for a treat, he will sit before I tell him. Next, I taught him to talk, so if he sits before I tell him, I have a backup for him to do to get a treat. Again, one training session. His most recently learned trick is to give kisses. Not the licking, slobbery kind, but by pressing his muzzle to my lips. One session and he has it down. The other task I'm working on is leash training. Because of the weather, as well as all the distractions, I started him in the house. He does pretty well for a short period but then get's bored with walking around two rooms. Today we took it a step further and walked outside to increase his time on the leash and to get him more accustomed to riding in the car. He isn't very fond of car rides since it doesn't provide him with anything to do. Mostly, he rides along if I have to pick up or drop off someone or run to the store for an item or two. He rides nicely and is pretty well-behaved in the car, but he's bored. So, I thought if he went for a short ride to a place he could get out and investigate, he would start looking forward to riding. It also provided me with a small parking area to walk him. There is a boat landing about a half mile from us, and since it's winter, it's not very busy. We walked the yard for a few minutes, then went to the car. He didn't like getting loaded into it, but did alright. He just stretched out on the seat as I drove over to the landing; I suppose he thought of it as just another car ride. When I parked he didn't get up, again figuring he was going to wait in the car. But, when I opened the door for him, he perked right up. I put the leash on his harness and told him to unload, which he did even as I was telling him. He sniffed around and I let him pick where he wanted to go. He, of course, became distracted numerous times with all the new sites and smells, but he did respond to "Let's go" after a bit of coaxing. We walked the perimeter of the lot twice, and he was showing signs of getting tired, so we loaded up and I brought him home. I'm thinking a few more times of his getting to explore on the leash and he will do fine, maybe he will even get excited and eager when I bring his leash out. Once we have this part down, I can start bringing him more places and start letting him get used to new people and hopefully some other dogs. We still have two more phases of leash training to work on; getting him to pay more attention to me and him not pulling in every direction, but walking beside me. |
| I want to start woking walking my dog; good exercise for both of us. But, before I can take Max for walks, I need to train him to walk on a leash. I know leash training is difficult, I've trained a few dogs in my life, but Max is different. I employed the same techniques that have worked well with other dogs but up until today, Max would have nothing to do with the leash; he pulls back and drops with a look that conveys the message, "Leash me alone!" Let's see, we brought him home kind of late on a Saturday when he was eight weeks old. I let him adjust to the new home and family for a couple of days, we did no training except some simple name association (his, not mine). From there we increased using his name and of course, introduced "NO!" and began using TPA techniques for his good behavior; Treats, Praise, and Affection are the best means to train anyone canine or otherwise. I did put the leash on him at nine weeks and let him get the feel of it, but we didn't really walk at that point. He got hold of the leash and shook it like it was his mortal enemy then dropped to the floor and glared at me, leash still clamped firmly in his mouth. I tried every few days to put it on and let him get accustomed to the feel of it, but he would do the same each time. Over and over I tried to get him to adjust to the feel of being on the leash, and over and over he would try to rip it to shreds, drop as flat as he could, and glare at me, "Leash me alone!" This Saturday, Max turns three months old and should be accustomed to being on a leash in a manner other than tearing at it and lying flat on the floor, so I needed to up my game. He had not been leashed this week until yesterday. I thinly sliced up a nice beef roast and put it in the oven to dry out (homemade beef jerky without any additives). I cut them into small treat-sized pieces and restarted the training again yesterday. We made a few steps by holding the yummy beef in my free hand and letting him follow his nose. Every few steps he was praised, and we worked for about ten minutes. Five of them he did good, five of them he tried to rip up the leash, but he did not drop like a rock. Today, we again did some leash training. I had cooked up a steak for lunch, and I also cooked up a smaller one for Max. I ate mine, his was chopped up into small pieces and used to reward his walking on the leash. We did ten minutes again today. The first few he wanted to tear the leash up, but enticed with the steak, he walked pretty well. We will work a bit more before his supper after everyone is home so there will be no distractions. If he does well again, perhaps we will do another round a bit before bed. I'm hoping that by this weekend he will no longer want to kill his leash and start walking well enough that I can take him on a real walk so he learns that it's fun to see the leash come down. No more, "Leash me alone!" But instead, "My leash, l getta go for a walk!" |
| As the title proclaims, this entry is about venting. There are three types of venting: 1) To give free expression to. 2) Discharge or expel through an outlet. 3) Permit air to enter through an inlet. These are simplified but describe venting well enough. Actually, now that I've written this out, there is one type of venting, since number one is inhaling and then discharging some hot air to get something off one's mind: basically, the same thing as numbers two and three, permitting air, gas, liquid, etc... to flow in or out accordingly. I'm venting in two directions. One is my lack of sleep last night due to the elevated temperature in our apartment, it was up to 80 degrees. In the other direction, I opened windows with an outside temperature of about five degrees to decrease the temperature inside. Why did it get so damn hot? The answer is easy to explain, one word in fact; dingbat. You know, like Edith Bunker. Well, that's been a while, so maybe you don't know. we live in a duplex, two units side by side, or more accurately one unit in front and one in back. We live in the back, and since this area of Minnesota is wooded, I refer to it as, "We live back in the woods." The woman who lives in front is the dingbat. Now, I'm not being mean or rude, she truly is a dingbat. She informed me a while back, that her ceiling was slowly getting lower, and wondered if ours was, too. I told her ours seemed to be fine. She then informed me that she had a spider plant suspended over her counters and that when she first put it up, there was a good foot (I wondered what a bad foot measured) between it and the cupboards. Now, just over a year later, there was maybe six inches between the hanging plant and the cupboards. Dingbat. Still not convinced? Last summer she wandered back onto our side and saw Hurricane, our chicken (yes we have a pet chicken we rescued, but that's another story for another day). She asked me what our turkey's name was. Dingbat! So, anyway, Edith (name changed to protect the ignorant) is gone more than she's home. She turns the heat down when she leaves and then cranks it all the way up to heat the place up quickly when she returns. This is what she did last night. Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem, but both units operate off one boiler, which is on our side. Yes, a boiler system; hot water heat. So, when she cranks the thermostat up to heat her unit quickly, it doesn't heat quickly, but the boiler runs constantly until her side does warm up. Meanwhile, the boiler is kicking out a lot of heat on our side and it gets hotter than Hades in here. I tried to explain this to her, but she's a Dingbat and is trying to counter global warming and cut heating costs. For one, doing this with a boiler system does nothing to lower costs or diminish global warming. In fact, it likely increases both. For two, our heat is included so there is no cost accrued to either of us. But, there is no explaining this to her, she just cannot comprehend it. The landlord also tried to explain this to her but walked away shaking his head after she informed him of her ceiling getting lower. (I wanted to tell her it's from constantly adjusting the thermostat, but that she likely would have believed) All I can say is, at times like last night, it's hot in here, too hot to sleep, so I need to vent. Vent out my despair of how dingy she is, and vent in some cooler air. There is an upside, I can actually relate to Charlie Brown feeling sick when trying to explain anything to Lucy... |
| It's been a while since I made an entry, so I figured tonight would be a good opportunity to make one. I've been busy training Max, my new Husky friend, and things are progressing well. We did have a bit of a setback over the holidays, but only because the kids and my wife were home all week. Not that it's a bad thing to have them home, but for training a ten-week-old puppy, anything out of the normal routine is disruptive. Also, with the holidays, there were people over, parties to attend, and just a lot of hustle and bustle, all of which were disruptive to Max's routine. I skipped out on a lot to devote my time to keeping things as normal for him as possible and to continue with at least a little of his training. He mustered through with just a bit more of his naughty side showing when things became too chaotic. Mostly, though, he just vocalized his disapproval. The worst thing that happened was he got used to us staying up late. Like a young child, if we are up, he's not going to sleep. So, most nights he went to bed around midnight instead of his usual 8:30 to 9:00. Soon enough, he had his times all screwed up and it was very difficult to get his schedule back to our normal bedtimes. I found myself staying up waiting for him to finally fall asleep so I could put him to bed for the night (he sleeps in a laundry basket on my side of the bed). I've been working all week trying to keep him from napping too much so he can go to bed on time at night. It's been a struggle, but last night he fell asleep around 9:00, and tonight, even though it was our regular chaotic Thursday, dozed off finally about 10:00. He's coming to his name, even outside, and is chewing a lot less on things he shouldn't chew (except for me), he is doing well with his potty training. He does have some issues in the evenings with peeing inside but does good by using the pads we put down. He learned to sit yesterday and has retained the information and usually does well; sometimes I have to repeat myself a couple of times, but then he remembers, sits as he should, and gets his treats. We have done a little work with him on a leash, but he has a long way to go. He doesn't fight it very often unless he gets tired and doesn't want to walk, then he just sits down and grumbles until I coax him a bit more with the promise of a treat. What's interesting, and I do not know how to change this behavior, is that when I walk with him on the leash, attached to either his color or his harness, he turns his head and grabs the leash in his mouth, and then walks with me. I'm thinking, if he continues to do this, I may make him a six inch leash and let him walk himself... |
| The title wraps up the final week of 2022 -- Actually, it wraps up all of 2022! There should have been more of the good, like getting out camping, kayaking, hiking, fishing, and the fun stuff, but we did all right. I did some repairs on the camper which turned out great, I purchased an old Lund boat and did some work on that. It's in getting some rivets tightened and I'm looking at replacing or rebuilding the outboard for it, but I did get to use it a few times. (the first time I almost sunk; a story for another day). There were bad times as well, but not as many or as severe as in other years. In looking back I find most of the bad has dissipated into that kind of gray that doesn't stand out unless a person digs through to find its roots. The worst thing last year was losing my beloved friend and canine companion so unexpectantly. But, she passed quickly and peacefully, so even that bad ain't so bad. I'm looking forward to the new year, although I know there are no drastic changes with the flip of the calendar page. I'm looking forward to doing more camping, boating, kayaking, hiking, and all that fun stuff. I know these things will be different without Hannah by my side, but now there's Max who will also love (I hope) to do all these things with me. Although, once he's fully grown, it's going to be a bit more difficult to kayak with him than with Hannah who was mid-sized. We'll manage, when I first started kayaking, I had Klarissa, about 80 pounds of Golden and Yellow Lab sitting in a ten-foot Sun Dolphin with me. I'm sure Max will do fine, but for now, there is a lot of work to do with him. He's now ten weeks old still teething, curious as can be, and just getting started in his training. He knows his name but still is easily distracted. Most days he comes after calling him a few times, some days I have to carry him back in. He is house broke about 80% of the time, but still has his accidents. Yesterday was the first time he pooped in the house in over a week, and he did poop on his puppy pad. (I tried combining his name with the pad things, but my family refused to let me call them Max's pads) I have a harness fitted for him and have introduced him to walking on a leash. He has only walked with me a couple of times yesterday and I wouldn't need the harness, he holds his end of the leash in his mouth when we walk. Maybe I can teach him to walk himself this way... And then again maybe that's not a good idea. Yeah, Max is intelligent, imaginative, and of course with those traits, a bit stubborn. He reminds me a great deal of Klarissa, who was just a tad too smart for her own good. It's going to be a lot of work, require a lot of time and patience, and I know I'll be putting my writing on the back burner (more like in the slow-cooker) for a while, but I don't mind. I love dogs and Max is showing signs of being an exceptional canine companion, given the training and work he needs. What are my expectations for the next year? I'll take what comes, that's all any of us can do, but my mindset and plans are for More Good, Less Bad, and again, no Ugly. May this next year be kind to all of us... |
| It's Christmas Eve and everybody is settled in for the evening here. The two teens are in the older girl's room enjoying their gifts and watching something on television, Max (our new Husky pup) is sound asleep as is my wife and I'm spending a little bit of the eve with you. We started a tradition of opening gifts early on Christmas Eve day since we go to my wife's relatives on Christmas. I won't comment on my thoughts about that, except for the fact that my Mother-in-law is getting up in years and we never know which will be her last Christmas so I do it for her. Anyway, I was going to blite about something and now have completely forgotten what. It could be something with my advancing years or the fact that Max has disrupted my erratic sleep schedule, but I blame it on the Bulleit. Actually, I should blame it on my eldest adopted granddaughter who gifted me a nice bourbon glass that reads, "Old Lives Matter." She thought she was ordering a shot glass, but it holds a nice eight ounces or better. I figured I should show her my appreciation by using it, so I shot it with Bulleit and ice. It works nicely. But, I'm almost out of Bulleits, so I reckon it's time for bed... |
| Saturday we picked up a new puppy; an eight-week-old husky. It was quite late when we got home with him, so he had a short introduction to the rest of the family, a bite to eat, and a drink of water, then it was time for bed. He did pretty well for his first night in a new home, once we figured out how to keep him feeling secure. We made up a soft bed for him in a laundry basket and I put my t-shirt I had been wearing in with him, then placed it beside my side of the bed. It did the trick and he slept through the night. Yesterday, being his first day, was kind of an orientation for the little fellow. He played with the kids, explored the house, and got to go outside a couple of times. It was below zero and he has never been outside, so it was very limited. He would sniff around a bit, but as soon as his little feet got cold he would try to sit on my foot and verbally tell me he wanted back in. He slept in his bed again last night, waking whenever I got up to use the bathroom but never making any fuss. This morning we got up at six, while I got dressed, my wife took Max out and he made some yellow snow. Once back in, he tried to poop on his puppy pad and got most if it on it. We did get larger pads, so he should do better. He played with the kids a bit before school and helped Jasper wrap a present. He figured out quickly that wrapping a gift on the floor with a puppy in the house is rather difficult. After they left for school, Max and I went back out for a bit. He explored around a bit, played in the snow a bit, then wanted back in. He let me know verbally and by sitting on my foot. After we came back in, he settled down for a nap and I managed to get a little done in here while I waited for him to wake up and start Canine Kindergarten. Yes, his training has begun. He knows his name and comes to it the first time about 90% of the time. He discovered the joys of bacon and sat on my feet the entire time I was cooking it. Yes, I did give him a few small bites. Then, after breakfast, he enjoyed the bacon but his breakfast was Kibbles and Bits, we went back outside and I showed him how to navigate the three steps down to the patio. (Up till that point, he had been carried up and down.) He did pretty well, but it's good we have a thick mat at the bottom; he fell off the last step twice, but he's got it down now. I also had to show him, twice, how to go up the steps. On his first try he ended up under the steps, the second try his legs didn't quite reach enough, but now he gives a little jump and climbs them like a pro. He has also gone to the bathroom outside most of the day, so far. The first "accident" was my fault, I took too long in putting my coat on. He almost peed on the pad, but like most guys, his aim isn't the best. The second time he peed inside was while I was cooking liver and again did not get him outside quickly enough. The rest of today will be more training him to his name and more outside potty practice. My wife will be home about 3:30, the kids shortly after, and Max will be done with his "school" at about the same time. Why? Because then it's playtime and interactions with the rest of the family. Tomorrow we work some more on outside potty training and getting him used to a leash. Oh, and of course, he will have continued practice at learning what "No" means. |
| I posted yesterday afternoon: "We are going to look at a Goldendoodle, eight weeks old. Not certain about getting him, but I figure once I see him and hold him, I won't be leaving without him...". Later I posted about our new family addition, Pludo, -- a Husky. How did this happen? What changed? Why? Just settle down and hold tight, I'll explain it all in just a few minutes. But first I need to go see what he's up to... Okay, sorry about that. False alarm, he's sleeping between the chairs. Here's the scoop. After Hannah unexpectedly became ill and passed, we discussed getting another dog. We have always had dogs in our families, and since we've been together, so it was weird not having a four-legged family member around. For me, it was worse; I became the stay-at-home parent of two adopted and troubled children, and Hannah was by my side almost all the time. We watched online ads and local postings for the proper puppy, but every time we found some, they were already taken. Yesterday, we received a message that yet another litter we were looking into had all been taken. However, another ad caught my eye, Goldendoodles. They were about three hours away. We called and the lady said she had one male left, eight weeks old, and we could drive over and look at him anytime after seven. We arrived about seven-thirty, and she had the puppy in the house ready for us to look at; it wasn't a Goldendoodle. She had a litter of Goldendoodles, but they were already gone. What she had was one eight-week-old husky male. I was a bit upset about being deceived, especially after that long of a drive on winter roads. I did learn the Huskies were listed through the same site, but I still think it was a conspiracy. My wife, of course, had picked up the puppy. It was squirmy but comfortable being held, and he was very cute. He kept looking at me and squirming, so she handed him over and asked, "Do you want to hold him?" I knew this was another conspiracy, and I wasn't given much of a choice as she placed him in my arms. He instantly worked his head up under my chin and snuggled in for a minute, then proceeded to give me a gaggle of puppy kisses before biting onto my goatee with his front teeth and tugging. I held him for a few minutes as we discussed wanting a Goldendoodle, not a Husky. I set him down on the floor but he literally tried to climb up my leg again. When that didn't work, he proceeded to latch onto my pant leg and refused to let go until I picked him back up. Was he also in on this conspiracy? I asked to see the parents; The father was a Husky, but a bit small for his breed. The mother was very thin from having and nursing ten puppies, a bit skitterish, but friendly enough. Only, she was of medium height, her colors were a bit off, and both my wife and I instantly asked if she was a wolf. The woman never did really answer but changed the subject to how quickly the other puppies found homes. This guy has one ear that droops and one that stands erect, which I find to be very adorable, he is a bit timid and less energetic than his siblings, and just never seemed to "take" to anyone. The puppies were born in a barn and lived there until they found homes. They did get handled and were around a poodle and some cats, but I learned most of this guy's life was spent in two cattle stalls, one with hay for sleeping and feeding, the other for a potty with wood chips in it. The barn was dimly lit and heated just enough to prevent freezing. It also sounded like he would soon be on his way to the shelter. Of course, he and I kind of "clicked" so I told my wife I was taking him out to the vehicle and she could take care of the rest. He grumbled a bit as we drove, but did very well for his first ride. We stopped at a Walmart to get a few things; I waited in the vehicle with him. We had a basket with a blanket along for him, but he continuously tried to climb out and sit on me, so I took my coat off and placed it over the blanket. He snuggle into it and was content all the way home. He enjoyed our two teens and all the attention they doted on him, he explored the house a bit but mostly stayed very close to me. He went out with me this morning and made some yellow snow (it's below zero, so it's difficult to train him to go out when his little feet get cold instantly, so we are also training him to use a puppy pad). He seems to have adjusted very well, but he's had no training and I have my hands full; he seems to learn very quickly, which brings up the next question of his name. We discussed names last night and whittled the list down to two, Max or Pluto. The kids liked both but picked Pluto, but they were pronouncing it Pludo, so we altered the spelling. My wife and I, however, like Maximilian (we'll just call him Max). Now, I ask you, "What's his name, Pludo or Max?" I need to know so I can start training him... |
| It's starting out to be quite a week! Or, perhaps it's a continuation of last week that ended up being quite a week. I suppose that's the best place to start, with last week. For some, it's likely nothing at all, but for me, being very introverted, the best week is one where everyone's at school or work and I have the house to myself for most of the day. That was the case for me last week, until Thursday when my wife had to take a couple of days off because she was sick which interrupted my quiet time to write. Then, the weekend and our two teenagers were home, and the peace and quiet were replaced with chaos and noise. I maintained my sanity focusing on the week ahead when things would return to normal. There was one hitch, my wife had a medical appointment on Tuesday in Fargo ND. But, she would leave work to drive over, so it really didn't affect me. I should add, it's just a follow-up to have a few tests done to make sure everything is okay. But, Sunday the boiler malfunctioned and I had to call the landlord. He notified the heating service he uses to come on Monday to fix it. But, there was no set time on Monday so it was a waiting game. The day started fine, but he was calling before noon to see if they had shown up and fixed the boiler. They had not, so he called them and then called me back. Then they called, and a bit later called again; there was no writing with all the interruptions and waiting. They never did show up. Tuesday arrived with our first bad winter storm! My wife left for work, but she dislikes driving in crappy weather, and we were getting a crap-load of crappy weather. So, she left work at about eleven to come home and have me drive her to Fargo for her appointment. My morning was calling the heating place to try and get someone out to fix the boiler, and waiting for them to call back, and kind of a repeat of Monday. Also, with the weather being crap, school let out early, so I soon had two teens back home and soon after, my wife. I had already loaded up the Yukon with some winter survival gear so we could be safe on our drive, and shortly after, headed to Fargo. The first half-hour wasn't bad. It was sleeting, but the roads were good. Soon, however, they were covered in slush and ice. We had left early and given ourselves extra time; we made it in time for the appointment only to learn that they had canceled it. Yes, upon arriving and entering the parking ramp, she received a notification that her appointment was canceled due to the bad weather. The drive back home was a nightmare. We had heavy snow backed with forty-mile-per-hour winds drifting it across the ice-covered highway. With few trees, visibility was greatly reduced, sometimes to the point of not being able to see past the hood of the Yukon, but we arrived back home safe and stressed. Later that evening we received notice that school would start two hours late today. Trying to be optimistic, I told myself that I would have a few more hours of peace before waking the kids up for school. But, the heating people had not arrived, and now I'm waiting for them to show up to fix the boiler. Also, the school sent notice that there is no school today, so I have two teens home until tomorrow. It's not looking good for a quiet day to write, but I'm still being optimistic. If it gets too chaotic in the house, I have a crap load of snow to clean up. I also have to figure out how to get into the vehicles; my wife's car was in the garage, which only makes sense as she has to drive to work. So my car and the Yukon sat out and collected about a quarter of an inch of ice on them. Once I figure out how to get the doors open, I can park them, first one then the other, in the garage with the torpedo heater going until they unthaw and dry off. After getting into the vehicles and getting them de-iced, then shoveling snow I may be able to get a chance to check out Dabble Book Writing Software. It's kind of costly, so I want to try it first. The problem is, there's only a week to try it and I don't want to start my free trial until I have the quiet to see how it works... |
| I've been thinking about getting more serious about writing. I need to write, it's in my blood and in my soul, but currently and for the past few years, I have not been writing enough. Why? Interruptions and distractions. They have plagued me for years, but recently they have manifested into a kind of writer's block. Understand that I am very introverted; I enjoy being introverted, but it does create some obstacles. When I write I become lost in my work, it is my escape from life and all the voices in my head. Yes, I'm one of those people who cannot shut off my thinking, except when I'm writing or reading. Distractions yank me out of this place I refuge in, and unlike so many others, I cannot close them out. If they're short and minor I can re-escape, but if they are constant or require much time, I find it frustrating and difficult to get back into my work or story. My problem is I don't have a sanctuary to write in. You can call it whatever you desire, but I prefer the term, "Haven Hut". I need a place I can go and get away from distractions and interruptions, a place I can focus on writing. I've tried a spare room within the house, but it's no good, someone will either knock until I stop and inquire about their needs, or they will come in and just stand there, waiting for me to stop and inquire about their needs. I have also tried libraries, coffee shops, and other places, but again, I get interrupted, I have had total strangers stop by and ask me what I'm writing, or just ask some silly question as to why I'm so absorbed in what I'm doing... "Duh! I was absorbed until you came over and interrupted me!" Of course, I don't say it, or anything rude; they mean no harm, but really, can't you see that I'm busy? Anyway, my wife and I were discussing my writing. She is a constant promoter of my writing and getting my work published. (She is also one of the distractions, and knows this.) Her idea was, to write as a job, set regular hours, and approach it the same as if I worked outside the home. I agreed it sounded like a grand plan, but I explained the problem of distractions. Most days, she and the kids are gone either to work or school. But the days the kids are home disrupts this routine, holidays, sick days, and snow days are quite frequent. Also, our neighbor, and friend, likes to visit randomly and will stay for hours drinking coffee and talking. We discussed some options, but with money as it is, there is no possible way to rent an office. Also, any space for rent would likely be six or more miles away, and in the winter, I would prefer not to drive any more than I have to. I told her it would be nice if we had a hardshell camper I could use instead of our pop-up. She agreed that would be a solution, and if it's not our camping camper, I could set it up as a space specifically for writing. Problem solved! Well, it would be if we had such a camper to convert over to my writing haven. But, the price of campers has gone through the ceiling in our area. The only affordable options require a crap-load of work. So, now we wait, we look, and we hope to find a good deal on a small camper that we can afford to purchase and set up for my Haven Hut. |
| This song reminds me of years past when we would travel to my Grandma’s for Christmas. It was about a six-hour drive depending on road conditions. We lived in northern Minnesota, and she was in South Dakota. Most years the drive was good, the roads clear, and the weather nice; cold, but nice. One year, however, we had very little snow and she had none. Before we left, Mom called her to let her know we were leaving. Grandma informed her that there was no snow, it was going to be a brown Christmas. I remember after Mom hung up, she turned to Dad, “Ella started to cry because there’s no snow.” “There’s still three days till Christmas, I’m sure she’ll have snow by Christmas morning.” Mom told us kids to join hands and say a prayer. “Father, we ask, you see us safely to South Dakota, and could we please have a white Christmas?” The weather was a bit windy and damp, with snow forecast for later that evening. But we had an early start and should have missed out on any inclement weather. However, when we crossed into North Dakota, the snow started; heavy snow with gusting winds blowing it around. As we headed south, our speed continuously decreased as a result of slippery, snow-covered roads, and very limited visibility. Dad pushed on and soon we reached the sign that read, Welcome to South Dakota. In fact, we almost took out the sign as we slid sideways and then backwards into the ditch. The song, White Christmas, was playing on the radio! Nobody was injured, but the car was stuck, and we were miles from any town. Luckily a trucker came along and Dad was able to flag him down. He had a strap long enough to reach us and pull us out. Before we got back on the road, Dad gave the driver twenty dollars for helping us but he wouldn’t take it. While Dad was trying to pay him, a snowplow went by. We followed it all the way to the town Grandma lived in. Whenever I hear the song, I remember our “White Christmas”. |
| Well, it's Monday morning, a good time for me... Usually. Weekends are tough for me as a writer, or for that matter, whatever other role I'm trying to fill. Hell, they can even be rough for reading and or watching the television. Why? It would be easy to just blame others, but I know that's not correct. In truth, it's me. I am very introverted and do my best alone. Well, not all alone, I have always had a canine companion by my side which most of the time has worked well; we seem to understand each other and share some kind of primal bond. My wife has referred to me as a true dog whisperer. But, again I digress. What makes weekends rough is people. I have a wife and currently two teens sharing my home. Most days during the week, they are at work and school, so the house is mine from seven-thirty to three-thirty. But on days when there is no school, or no work, or both, I have to share it. That means, there is noise and commotion. Now, I've known many people who can read and or do other tasks through all kinds of chaos, and it doesn't bother them in the least. For me, however, it's extremely difficult to filter out these interruptions. I can to some degree, but not if it's persistent. For example, if I'm trying to read or write especially, even someone watching television in the same room will interfere and make it very difficult. Music playing will also distract me. The struggle is real. But, it goes beyond difficult. I have tried various ways of filtering out distractions. I've set my desk so I cannot see the flickering of the television, I've invested in sound-dampening earplugs, I've set up in different rooms, etc... But, even after explaining why I can't be disturbed and removing all distractions, one teen or the other will stand over me, watching me until I stop and ask, "What do you need?" "Well I know you are writing (reading, watching a show, or whatever I'm engrossed in) but can I...." Sometimes the younger teen will just stand there and not even say anything when I ask. I have come to understand this is her way of letting me know she just wants to sit on my lap and be held. My wife, who quite often tells me I need to get back into my writing, will do much the same if she is home. Shortly after I get started, she will interrupt, "I know you're writing and I don't want to distract you, but I have a quick question." Or something similar. Of course, none of these family members are introverted, so they do not understand. Also, it has something to do with focus and concentration. If I just sit around and do nothing, or fill my time with some meaningless tasks, they are fine; they will do their own thing, and hours, sometimes most of the day, will pass without any interactions with me. But as soon as I get lost in something, which is how I do most things, they will sense it and materialize out of thin air around me... __-__-__-__ So, I started writing about how this Monday was not a good Monday; most Mondays are great, everyone's back to school and work so I have peace and quiet. But, today my youngest teen is home recovering from a forty-eight-hour bug. She's feeling good but still needs a day to rest and fully recover. I got a late start with my typical weekday routine since she woke early. Finally, she was off to take a shower, then chill in her room. I logged in, looked about, then decided to write my blog entry while I had the opportunity. About halfway in, she was out of the shower and standing next to me, waiting. As I explained, that usually indicates she wants to sit on my lap for a bit. I set my computer down, she plopped down and cuddled a bit, then asked if she could have pancakes. "Sure, but you'll have to make them." She loves to cook and seldom needs any assistance with pancakes. Today, however, she needed a lot. In fact, I ended up in the kitchen making her pancakes while she watched. Once they were done, she was off to her room to eat and watch some TV. I sat back down with a cup of coffee to finish, but I barely was able to finish a paragraph before she was out again, asking for something to drink. By the time I did get back to my blog, I ended up off-topic! Oh no! She's back... |
| "It's Friday?" That was my first thought when I saw Weekly Goals in the Newsfeed. "Crap, I better go post my results," was my second. I set a goal to blite at least twice a week on Monday, and luckily already had both written so I could post that I had achieved my goal. In fact, I was thinking about making a blog entry earlier, but I wasn't sure what to write about. So, while I pondered this I worked on a poem for Express It In Eight and was about to see if I could whip out a Flash Fiction entry. Luckily, I scrolled through the Newsfeed and saw the Weekly Goal post that said it was Friday. "FRIDAY!" I just spent an entire day thinking it was Thursday. How does that happen? I should have known better. I just wrote a poem about time and life for Express It In Eight and then discovered I was off an entire day.  Like Leaves Floating We're leaves in a river It’s constantly flowing Floating with current Wherever it’s going Ahead is uncharted Memories of past Living each day Praying they last. |
| As many already know, I'm not normal, this entry just proves that theory correct. But I digress. Sipping coffee this morning as I strolled down Notification Lane and up Newsfeed Street, I had some odd and unexplainable thoughts of Mother Goose's Poetry. Actually, it was one poem in particular that intruded my thoughts: Little boy blue, Come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, The cow's in the corn. But where is the boy Who looks after the sheep? He's under a haystack, Fast asleep. Now, as a child, I kind of believed this hype, but as I got older I saw some discrepancies within the story as well as it not being written correctly. One thing is the grammar, The Sheep's in the meadow; is there only one sheep? Does it own the meadow? Does the same apply to the cow? If I were Mother Goose, I would have written: Hey, Little Boy Blue (a name) Come and blow your horn there are sheep in the meadow, There are cows in the corn. But, it's poetry, you can write it any damned way you want, right? Therefore, I overlooked that, figuring my writing is my style, and your writing is your style. However, it doesn't explain why he was under the haystack sleeping. I mean, if he was tired he should have returned to bed. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be napping, so he headed to the hay pile to catch a few z's unobserved. But, wouldn't he be on the pile of hay? I can't see sleeping under it; I've handled enough hay to know it's scratchy and makes you itch, it's also dusty and makes you sneeze, a lot! I'm not believing he crawled under a big pile of hay to sleep. I believe, he was in fact, up in the haymow with alternative motives. With this in mind, let's see what was really transpiring... Hey, Little Boy Blue Come and blow your horn there are sheep in the meadow, There are cows in the corn. So where is that boy Who looks after the sheep? Why he's up in the haymow With Little Bo Peep! That explains everything. Little Bo Peep lost her sheep because they were in the meadow with Little Boy Blue's sheep. She likely let them in so she could sneak off to see him. In fact, my sources have disclosed, they conspired this plot together when they snuck off to meet behind the outhouse at church on Sunday. One last thing to consider. Why was he supposed to blow his horn? One loud blast on that battered brass instrument would have cows and sheep stampeding all over God's green earth! Perhaps I should have titled this, The Mother Goose Conspiracies (I have more). |
| It's Monday and things are going well. I logged in this morning and read my Notifications; thank you to everyone who has interacted and filled my Notifications so nicely. I also read through the Newsfeed and found some interesting things to read, some to comment on, and a lot of things to "Like". I was happy to see that Lilli ☕   is back and we had a "Question of the Day!"  this morning. It's crazy, but a morning just doesn't seem complete without one.I also entered a goal in "Weekly Goals" again this week. Goals are important, but should not be made impulsively. If a goal is well thought out, it is a form of motivation and reward when the goal is met. But if a goal is not well thought out, it is demotivating and disappointing when it is not. At least, that's my opinion. I know, many would write or say, "In my humble opinion." Seems to me, if they were that humble, they wouldn't be stating their opinions so much. (I do realize, however, that some of those people are truly humble.)I don't post in "Weekly Goals" very often, but if I see a goal I should set, it seems like a nice way to share it with others. Posting goals in itself aids in one being held accountable for that goal, or at least it does for me.Last week, I set a goal of logging in every day. This is something I need to do simply because I get busy or distracted and procrastinate logging in. First, it's a day or two, then a week, or even a month. (Months) Why? I enjoy the site and spending time here with everyone, or at least almost everyone. So why put off something I enjoy? I blame my upbringing; "first comes work, then comes play" has been instilled in me since I was old enough to do any form of work. This week I addressed my bliting (blog writing). Yes, I made up my own term for writing in my blog. Hey, I'm a writer, I can do that. Anyway, as I looked back through my blog, I was disappointed at how inconsistent my bliting has been. Originally, I had all intentions of bliting every day. However, to do that, I need something worthy of sharing for each entry or it's just a lot of argle-bargle that not only bores others but drives them away from my blog. (Picture someone seeing this and making the sign of the cross)
I enjoy blogging when I have something to write about, and I hope some of my readers enjoy what I've written. But with weekly and monthly gaps, I also lose people's interest. Therefore it seemed like a good idea to set a goal for writing in here, or bliting, as it's come to be known. How often? As often as I have something worth writing. I, at first, thought of blogging at least once a week. But, that did not seem like much of a challenge, and we should try and challenge ourselves a bit. So, I decided to provide bliting here at least twice a week. That's my goal, two entries per week. However, if and when there is more blog-worthy content in my life, I'll share it here with additional bliting. Do you have any goals to share? |
| We had planned a different Thanksgiving this year, instead of going over to my sister-in-law's like we usually do, we decided to do a mini-vacation. We decided to visit the port city of Duluth and tour Bentleyville (https://www.bentleyvilleusa.org/visitor-guide/). We booked a room overlooking Lake Superior within walking distance for Thursday night. The plan; have our Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday night, get a fairly early start on Thursday and drive to Duluth, check into our hotel, walk over to Bentleyville, then return and order pizza. That was the plan... Things went afoul Wednesday! It was a beautiful day and the snow was melting, but by late afternoon, it was below freezing again. Unknown to me, the steps had been coated with ice, and I slipped on the top on, bounced down them, and landed hard on the concrete patio. It took a couple of minutes to regain my senses and my breath. It took another minute to move various body parts to see if there were any that had broken. None seemed to be at the time, but when I rolled from my back to my stomach, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I lay there another minute waiting for this to pass, then tried to get up. I could not, it was too icy... I managed to crawl over to the edge of the open porch and get hold of the decking, then with some difficulty, pull myself up onto my knees. I was up high enough now to rest my upper body on the deck floor and roll onto the porch. Luckily, I have a chair out there that I used to get up to my feet and drag my hurting body into the house. Everyone came rushing to see how badly I was injured and my wife was asking if I needed to go to the emergency room. I had her assist me to my recliner, telling her I just needed to sit for a minute and determine how badly I had injured myself. She also said she would call and cancel our hotel reservations. The kids looked devastated but did not say anything except ask what they could do for me. I did not have the heart to disappoint them and cancel our mini-vacation, besides it didn't seem like anything too serious. I informed them that the trip was still on, pending whether I could get out of bed the next morning or not. Humor always helps a situation and they jumped aboard with a bit of humor in return, "We'll get you out of bed in the morning, don't you worry about that!" In truth, I could barely get myself into bed, did not sleep much at all, and was hurting much worse than I was going to let on to them. But with enough OTC pain meds, I managed to move pretty well and we headed out. There was quite a bit of pain driving, there was a lot of pain getting in and out of the vehicle, and walking was painful as was standing or sitting. After we returned to the hotel, I walked around in the pool; the cool water felt good. Then I soaked in the hot tub which really helped ease the pain for a while. The hotel mattress was firm and comfortable and I slept through the night. Oh, being Thanksgiving, we could not find anything open that delivered, but the hotel front desk checked around and found an Old Chicago just a few blocks away that was open until midnight, so after the pool and hot tub we drove over and enjoyed a very wonderful dinner. The next day we checked out and headed over to Superior Wisconsin and did a bit of sightseeing. We toured a turn of the center mansion and visited the last whale-back ship, the USS Meteor, as well as some other historic sites. By late afternoon it was time for dinner at Perkins, then the long drive home. I was still in a lot of pain and there was no way to hide it, but I refused to let it ruin our fun and we all enjoyed the outing. In fact, it has been requested that we do this every year as our new Thanksgiving tradition. As for me, I haven't moved much from my chair today. Both arms are bruised up, my entire back is black and blue, and I may have a cracked humerus (bad name, there's nothing funny about cracking this thing), and it's very likely I have once again busted my tailbone. |
| It's been a tough week for us; re-adjusting to a home without Hannah will take quite some time. But, everyone seems to be moving forward and dealing with the loss in healthy ways. That's something to be thankful for. Yes, even with Hannah's passing unexpectantly last Friday, there is so much to be thankful for. The key, I guess, is in the attitude we choose to use as we look at the world and our lives. I lost one of my best friends six days ago, and sure to some she may just be a dog, but to me, she was a friendly and loyal companion, family member, and a huge part of my life for the last ten years. I could go into a deep depression, focusing on my grief, but instead, I try to focus on the positive aspects and the wonderful times we shared. I choose to be happy, even in grief! I was with her in her time of need. When we stopped by the shelter ten years ago, a guy was taking a one-year-old dog out of the building. He wasn't being gentle with her; she pulled and resisted him all the way. When she saw me, she tried to come over, but he yanked hard on her leash, she yelped, and I got pissed. The story, one day, will be written, but for now, let's keep it short I have to get ready to head out o a four-hour road trip. He was taking her to be put down, she was anemic, full of parasites, and quite near to death on her own. I paid the fee to adopt her, well half price since it wasn't likely she would through the week. We nursed her back to health instead and had ten years to share with her. That's something to give thanks for. Her health failed quickly, but she did not seem to be in pain or suffering and she passed during the night in her sleep. That's something to be thankful for. I was able to be with her through that last night, petting her and comforting her right up to her last breath. That's something to be thankful for. Today, my family and I have a road trip planned instead of the traditional family get-together. We will go visit a Christmas village, stay overnight at a hotel, and return tomorrow, possibly setting a new Thanksgiving tradition. Even as I write this post I think of so much more to be thankful for, not just today, but every day. We all have something we can be thankful for, we just have to look, and as for one day set aside to give thanks? Well, I'm thankful someone thought it was important enough to make it a holiday so we can have time together, but one day of thanks kind of comes up short. Maybe we should rename the day to Pilgrim's Day or New Beginning Day and go back to being thankful every day... |
| My last entry on Thursday was about my return and waiting for a diagnosis on Hannah, my canine companion. I was waiting to hear what the vet had to say after her visit on Friday morning. She had been feeling well, as far as her actions and interactions, not showing any signs of discomfort. Her problem was, she would not eat very much; she showed interest in food, but would only eat a small portion at a time. She had also begun to drink more water than usual and her abdomen was getting larger. Except for the loss of appetite, she almost appeared to be pregnant, although that was very unlikely. On Thursday, she refused to eat anything and seemed to have some motor function problems. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, and she needed help getting into the car; We knew she was in need of some professional help and called the vet. He wasn't taking new patients, but when we explained her condition he said he would give her a check-up on Friday at 8:30 in the morning. As the day progressed, she continued to show more signs of weakness and instability and stopped drinking any water. However, she would eat snow when she went out and seemed to want to go out whenever she felt thirsty. She still did not seem to be in any discomfort and tried to perform her regular activities, but she was unsteady on her feet and by late afternoon could not get into or out of the car, she had difficulty balancing, and now needed help to go up or down the three steps going outside. By evening she was having difficulties getting up and moving, her legs just seemed to not support her and she had to have help moving from one place to another or she would stumble and fall. I still held out hope that the vet would find a cure, but I also faced the fact that she was likely not going to be with us much longer. I talked to our two children and explained this to them, so they could spend as much time with her as possible. By 10:00 that night, she was unable to stand or move, however, she still did not show any signs of pain or discomfort. In fact, she would try to stand and fluff up her bed: she did this by pawing at her blanket with her front feet, usually until she had a tangled mess. Now, however, she would tip over or her hind end would just collapse back down. She also continued to try and go anyplace I went, as she has always done. I knew she was nearing her end and was doubtful she would make it to her scheduled appointment. Even more difficult to think about was if she started to show any signs of pain and the likelihood that her vet visit would be for having her put to sleep to end any suffering that seemed likely to come. My wife made up a softer bed for her next to the couch and slept there beside her, offering comfort and security. Hannah did seem to be comfortable, secure, and at peace, as she would sleep. I sat up with her, watching her ready to go to her anytime she showed any signs of discomfort, fear, or restlessness. She could no longer get up, but she would still lift her head a bit and look over to see if I was still sitting beside her. I would, at these times, get out of my chair and lie beside her, petting and comforting her. Still, no sign of pain, but when she did this, I could see the fear in her eyes. Since she could no longer go out to eat snow, I brought it in for her and let her keep her mouth and through moist. I found I had to scoop a bit in my hand and put it to her muzzle, she could no longer see the bowl. But, she would relax to my touch and voice, fall back asleep, and seem very comfortable and peaceful for about a half hour or so and then we would repeat this through the night. At a little after 3:00 in the morning, she again woke and was looking toward me, but she could not raise her head any longer. I again went to her and comforted her with both touch and soothing words. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowed, and she seemed to return to sleep. But as soon as I stopped caressing her neck she would open her eyes again. So, as I spoke softly to her so she would know I was still close by, I made room beside her and lie down and resumed rubbing her neck and shoulders as I talked with her. She closed her eyes and seemed to drift off to sleep, but I did not stop comforting her. For the next hour, she slept and even snored a bit as I rubbed her shoulders and neck and talked with her. Shortly after 4:00 a.m., her breathing became short raspy breaths and she would convulse a bit. I found by increasing the pressure of my hand she would calm a bit, her breathing would slow again and she seemed peaceful. But, her breathing was still rasping in her lungs and her body was tenser. We continued lying together, me talking softly by her ear and caressing her as her breaths became shorter and shallower. She would tense more, then relax as I increased pressure and massaged her more than caressed. At about 4:25, she had a convulsion and then went still, the tenseness in her muscles was gone and she was very still; her only movement was the slight rise and fall of her chest. I still massaged her neck and shoulders as those breaths became shallower and slower until at 4:35, she let out her last... my faithful friend was gone. My heart was heavy with loss, but at the same time, I gave thanks that she was able to spend her last night at home, was not in pain or suffering, and I was able to be there with her. For ten years she has been faithfully at my side; I'm so thankful that for that one night, I could faithfully be there by hers. |
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not sure what else to say. The 4th was surprisingly quiet here as well... Last year was rather wild.
). The fourth here was eerily quiet. No loud continual booms and pops from up the hill like they've done for years. Kind of nice actually. I'm sure the pets in the neighborhood appreciated calm for a chnage.
