"Stairs", #inktober52, #inktober

 

Seriously, I’ve tried writing a post for weeks.  I just couldn't keep my concentration through a whole page of typing because I have acquired a puppy who NEEDS my full attention all the time – except of course when she’s getting in trouble.

My blog silence actually started with stairs.  The deck steps were bad and I replaced them with the invaluable assistance of a friend and Bro3.  My helpful friend pointed out other things I needed to fix.  Bro loaned me a ladder with a stern directive to clean gutters.  I caulked, mortared, painted, stained… I can’t even remember all the things I did.  What I know for sure is that I was tired at the end of every day and didn’t feel like writing.  I was also so stressed about the US election that I couldn’t think straight or say nice things in a post.  Thank God we can put that stress behind us, as long as the current president doesn’t blow up the world before January 20, 2021.  Thanks to everyone who voted for that happy outcome!

I grieved when my last dog died about a year ago.  I didn’t start looking for a new companion right away, and then everything shut down because of Covid.  I searched rescue websites for months before I saw my new baby at Rescue Village in Geauga County, Ohio.  She is currently about 14 pounds and about 5-6 months old of every breed in the rainbow.  Great!  I love mutts.  The vet suggested she might be part whippet and said Pup will probably be about 25 pounds as an adult which is plenty big enough.  She’s a soft, cuddly, wiggling delight who is lovely in every possible way.  In case you can’t tell, I adore her.  Life feels good and normal because I have a puppy.  She runs up and down the deck stairs many times in a day and I’m glad I fixed them. 

I wanted to write a gushing post about her since I got her, but I’ll admit she’s tired me out.  We walk miles every day and my knee is killing me.  She’s made friends at the park and learned some basics.  She was housebroken in a day, walked nicely on the leash in another day, sits, and lets go of things on command.  She definitely gets “NOOOO!!!!”, but that doesn’t stop her from doing a bad behavior again behind my back.  We play fetch and she helps me pick up sticks in the yard.  Our next lesson is “SHHH!!!!”  She has a bark that can shatter steel 3 miles away and she uses it to alert the world to squirrels or to her abandonment.  She’s also learned she can use her voice to boss me around because I run to shut her up before someone calls the police on us.

I’m sure she was neglected and pretty sure she was abused before me.  The rescue people told me she had lived her short life in a kennel and “knows nothing!”  That last bit definitely proved true.  I saw her reaction the first time she saw grass.  It’s hard to imagine, sad, but a delight at the same time.  She discovered dried up dandelions and loves to make them explode.  She chews on my fennel and oregano in the garden and has the freshest dog breath.  I take her to the woods or river and everything is new and wonderful.  Every person or dog is a new friend.  Except, there was one guy.  She was afraid of him, and it occurred to me he was the guy I called the cops about last year for hiding in the woods to watch high school girls.  I have a smart dog.

She's mistrustful and uncooperative with picture taking

She had some absolute meltdowns when I first got her.  It was more than a cry for attention.  She actually sobbed in my arms when I left her for a few hours.  She cried in her sleep and I stroked her and said it was alright, the bad days are over.  The longer I have her, the fewer bad dreams she has, but she still gets upset if I have to go out without her.  Now she has dreams about the park and playing with the neighbor boys too.  I always wonder about the idiots who think dogs don’t have feelings.  Of course they do! 

The drawing above is the only thing I’ve drawn lately, and that was using my sleeping pup’s back for an easel.  It’s also hard to type with a warm puppy on my lap, forcing me to stretch to the keyboard to type with one finger, and she makes me take play breaks, but really, I’ll make an effort to post more often.

Wishing everyone a happy Thanksgiving!  Stay safe and healthy!

"Wires", #inktober52, #inktober

I lamented to a couple of millennial friends a while back that their peers don't know how to do real basic things like cook an egg or change a light bulb.  My friends were unfazed.  One idly asked, "What do they do when a light bulb goes out?"  "They call an electrician or wait until somebody else comes over who knows what to do", I answered.  My friend shrugged his shoulders and said, "Problem solved then."  I wanted to scream.  No, what about the next bulb?  Why are they wasting money on electricians?!

It seems like I should've remembered my concerned outrage when my kitchen light started acting up.  Sometimes the pull chain worked, sometimes it didn't.  Sometimes I had to climb up on my sink and fiddle with it until the light went off.  When this happened often enough that I found myself swearing on a regular basis, I plugged in an inadequate lamp because I'm not calling an electrician for a stupid light.  I'm good at ignoring some problems.

I told a pal about this and he told me the light was an easy fix, the inexpensive part easily found at the home improvement store.  Okay.  I listened, but I didn't get the part.  I envisioned the store being filled with guys too tough to wear masks during our ever-increasing Covid-19 problem.  Besides, my friend thought this was an easy part to find, but he's a guy.  Those stores are designed for people like him.  They're intended to confuse people with ovaries.  I kept living with my inadequate lamp and washed dishes in daylight until my pal showed up with the part and a bottle of Jack Daniels.  Thanks!

I'll admit I was more drawn to the whiskey than the stupid switch, but I dutifully went to the basement and turned off the "kitchen" breaker.  This did not turn off the kitchen light.  I went back to the basement and tried another breaker.  Up the steps, down the steps, up, down, up, down... F it, I turned off the main switch.  The light finally went off along with every other electric thing I own, including my tetchy computer.  Arg.

I climbed onto the kitchen sink and balanced precariously next to the ceiling while dismantling the light fixture, fiberglass insulation wafting in my face and sticking to my sweaty face on one of the hottest days of the year.  My pal had said there were 3 wires inside.  He was wrong.  There were 5 or 6.  Despite this confusing turn of events, I successfully hooked up the new switch, muscled the light fixture back onto the ceiling, and turned the main breaker on again.  Then, there was light!

I put a long-life bulb in the light fixture.  It's my sincere hope I never have to mess with that light again.  I turn the light on and off for fun these days.  I wonder at myself for being willing to live with that inadequate lamp.  I worry about all those millennials living through Covid-19 seclusion in the dark with raw eggs.

Would you have called the electrician or do you ignore stuff like this?

"Tool"

I tagged after Dad when he fixed things.  I was great at handing over tools.  Crescent wrench, Philips screwdriver... I precisely handed them over like a surgical nurse in a MASH unit... until muttering and swearing started.  Then it suddenly seemed like a great idea to go to the river instead.  Dad could do carpentry, but the car brought out the "Jee-ee-SUS Christ!!"  That was the sign to flee.

I was a teenager when Dad died, and I became aware that he hadn't taught any of my siblings how to fix anything -- and yet stuff still needed fixed.  I also came to realize that I didn't really know how to fix a lot of things.  I knew my tools and had an idea of what they did, but my fixing lessons had often ended at the swearing, and I didn't see how things were completed.

Part of the Dad lessons had involved sitting in the shade with iced tea and contemplating our next project.  He encouraged me to think innovatively and considered my ideas, so I understood the theory of fixing stuff, if not the real experience.  When he was gone, I had to try on my own.  I quickly came to understand that swearing is an actual part of the process.  I got creative with that too, but left out the blasphemy.

I started feeling pretty good about myself for my home repair skills.  I may not have known what I was doing, but found ways to make the plumbing work and repair things Bro1 broke.  Just because I know how to replace a broken window doesn't mean I will.

When I bought an old house after college, Bros3&4 were old enough to get into trouble or help with projects when they came over for the weekends.  I reinstituted shady iced tea contemplations, and me and 2 little boys managed electricity, construction, wallpaper, and moved large objects.  I didn't actually need to do all this, but it was a good way for us to spend time together.  We went to the hardware store and talked to old guys who knew how to do things the right ways.  These are happy memories for all of us.

This week, I really looked at a door my Dalmatians scratched up about 20 or so yrs ago.  It's a nice door, with lots of panes of windows and decorative mullions between.  Looking at the deep scratches was depressing, and I was tempted to ignore it like I have for so long, but this time I decided to try fixing it with wood putty.

I did a pretty decent job of it.  I spent the entire day today painting it -- even though Ohio weather has gone back to winter and the whole project was lousy to do on a day when the daffodils shiver.  Not to mention I'm noticing all the other woodwork that could use wood putty and new paint.  I wish Bros3&4 were coming over for their weekend project.

Not knowing how to do something isn't a good reason not to try.  Nobody is born knowing how to fix anything, create something.  Encouraging children to think instead of merely existing and obeying is a gift that stays with them throughout their lives.  Thanks Dad!

I'm pooped from painting the door, so office tools are good enough for today.