I'm pleased to tell you thanks to the support and patience of these awesome hounds little Jozie, who arrived in January, has her new blanket. Here is a closeup of the finished product.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Knit 10, Pearl 10
Remember back in November when the girls and I were working on this project for Sara and Joe's new little arrival due in January?
I'm pleased to tell you thanks to the support and patience of these awesome hounds little Jozie, who arrived in January, has her new blanket. Here is a closeup of the finished product.
I'm pleased to tell you thanks to the support and patience of these awesome hounds little Jozie, who arrived in January, has her new blanket. Here is a closeup of the finished product.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Crafty Greys
Greyhounds Frosty, Tory and Arlo spent a busy Saturday in the sewing room supervising construction of a quilted table runner. Besides the painstaking fabric selection, they courageously undertook the challenge of staying in the way all day. Carefully placig themselves between the sewing machine and the cutting table, they made it necessary for me to step over at least one hound each trip. The shifting obstacle course also assured my path from the machine to the ironing board was equally occupied. Frosty deserves honorable mention for the exceptional job she did of consistently lying directly in front of the ironing board.
The pups are to be applauded for their vigilance and, true to the breed, also for their quickness. My occasional orientation toward the door meant they had to spring from their prone positions, beat me to the door and provide escort services to the bathroom, the kitchen, etc. It was a fascinating example of herd mentality that each of those trips included affected detours past the treat cupboard.
It was a long day for them but they hung in there like real troopers and can certainly be proud of their efforts. They were undoubtedly relieved on Monday when I went back to work and they could resume their nap schedule uninterrupted.
The pups are to be applauded for their vigilance and, true to the breed, also for their quickness. My occasional orientation toward the door meant they had to spring from their prone positions, beat me to the door and provide escort services to the bathroom, the kitchen, etc. It was a fascinating example of herd mentality that each of those trips included affected detours past the treat cupboard.
It was a long day for them but they hung in there like real troopers and can certainly be proud of their efforts. They were undoubtedly relieved on Monday when I went back to work and they could resume their nap schedule uninterrupted.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Wholly Uninspired
Hmmm. “Wholly uninspired” is me. It’s cold, it’s gray, and most of all, I didn’t get the job I had my heart set on. Nor did I rate an interview. Heck … I didn’t even get an acknowledgment they’d received my application. My mother would have had a lot to say about their lack of manners.
Some of you know I’ve been job seeking for some time now. While I have a job – one with decent pay, longevity and good benefits – I long for one that’s fulfilling. One that makes me look forward to work because I am contributing to life on this planet in some meaningful way. This job I didn’t get felt right and sounded like it had been designed specifically for me. I applied and then allowed myself to dream and prematurely plan and now, instead of standing at the beginning of a new and exciting journey, I find I painted myself into a corner. Of a lonely room. In the dark. Silly old broad. You’d think I’d know better by now. My mother would have had a lot to say about that too.
Jobs these days are rather precious, especially anything over $8.00/hr! Among the folks who wish to be employed, the number of people searching is astonishing. Case in point - a recently advertised receptionist position at the local grad school had 39 applicants – many of them master’s level graduates! Sad. So given the state of the employment world, not to mention my age (yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all that baloney about equal opportunity), I’m trying to remember to count my blessings. I’m really trying. Should you pass me on the sidewalk or pull up next to me at the stop light and my lips are moving, know that I’m counting. Out loud. Trying to soothe my savaged ego and my dashed hopes.
The first and foremost blessings on my “blessing list” are, like yours I hope, my family members (2 and 4 legged), my wonderful friends and my health. After that, the list has changed a bit since the job application process. I’m counting gifts I’ve recently forgotten to celebrate.
While I didn’t land this job, my state of blessedness, and thus my blessing list, was enhanced in a way I certainly hadn’t anticipated. Part of the application process, naturally, was to submit letters of reference. I asked for, and received, letters from four folks in my life with whom I have worked at one time or another – four folks who know me well and who could address my qualifications for the job in question. I was, quite bluntly, astonished by what they wrote. Each letter brought out the “aw shucks” in me. Each made me feel special and worthy and eminently qualified. Wow! The lights came on revealing my treasure chest full of blessings and I'm back on track.
For now, I shall practice gratitude for my comfortable “old” job and will gaze at these letters (which I’m tempted to frame and put on the wall!) to lift me above the ruts and remind me that when the opportunity to shine presents itself, I am capable and qualified.
Hear me roar!
Some of you know I’ve been job seeking for some time now. While I have a job – one with decent pay, longevity and good benefits – I long for one that’s fulfilling. One that makes me look forward to work because I am contributing to life on this planet in some meaningful way. This job I didn’t get felt right and sounded like it had been designed specifically for me. I applied and then allowed myself to dream and prematurely plan and now, instead of standing at the beginning of a new and exciting journey, I find I painted myself into a corner. Of a lonely room. In the dark. Silly old broad. You’d think I’d know better by now. My mother would have had a lot to say about that too.
Jobs these days are rather precious, especially anything over $8.00/hr! Among the folks who wish to be employed, the number of people searching is astonishing. Case in point - a recently advertised receptionist position at the local grad school had 39 applicants – many of them master’s level graduates! Sad. So given the state of the employment world, not to mention my age (yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all that baloney about equal opportunity), I’m trying to remember to count my blessings. I’m really trying. Should you pass me on the sidewalk or pull up next to me at the stop light and my lips are moving, know that I’m counting. Out loud. Trying to soothe my savaged ego and my dashed hopes.
The first and foremost blessings on my “blessing list” are, like yours I hope, my family members (2 and 4 legged), my wonderful friends and my health. After that, the list has changed a bit since the job application process. I’m counting gifts I’ve recently forgotten to celebrate.
While I didn’t land this job, my state of blessedness, and thus my blessing list, was enhanced in a way I certainly hadn’t anticipated. Part of the application process, naturally, was to submit letters of reference. I asked for, and received, letters from four folks in my life with whom I have worked at one time or another – four folks who know me well and who could address my qualifications for the job in question. I was, quite bluntly, astonished by what they wrote. Each letter brought out the “aw shucks” in me. Each made me feel special and worthy and eminently qualified. Wow! The lights came on revealing my treasure chest full of blessings and I'm back on track.
For now, I shall practice gratitude for my comfortable “old” job and will gaze at these letters (which I’m tempted to frame and put on the wall!) to lift me above the ruts and remind me that when the opportunity to shine presents itself, I am capable and qualified.
Hear me roar!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Christmas Miracle
It occurs to me that I left ya’ll hanging on the saga of the broken transmission. We didn’t have to hook the greyhounds to a sleigh after all. The wonderful news is – it wasn’t broken at all. So all that fretting and wailing was for naught, but I will happily eat my overreaction and tell you the issue was (what else for an electrical contractor’s truck) electrical.
Seems some wiring got up next to something hot under there and shorted out the connection to whatever the gizmo is that makes the truck go forward. Why reverse still worked is a mystery to me. What I do know is that instead of the anticipated $2000 brand new transmission and labor cost we owed only $320 for the repair, and $153 for the tow.
Interesting note, I calculated the tow truck charge out to a per hour basis. That guy makes $340/hr with that truck. Wonder if I can trade my Accord in on a tow truck. I’m clearly in the wrong business.
Anyway … let there be no doubt about it - we got our Christmas miracle.
Seems some wiring got up next to something hot under there and shorted out the connection to whatever the gizmo is that makes the truck go forward. Why reverse still worked is a mystery to me. What I do know is that instead of the anticipated $2000 brand new transmission and labor cost we owed only $320 for the repair, and $153 for the tow.
Interesting note, I calculated the tow truck charge out to a per hour basis. That guy makes $340/hr with that truck. Wonder if I can trade my Accord in on a tow truck. I’m clearly in the wrong business.
Anyway … let there be no doubt about it - we got our Christmas miracle.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Blending
I was snapping photos of my dogs today - a regular occurrence around here (and one that bores them silly). This is our beautiful old Frosty girl. I noticed in this photo that her brown markings aren't so brown anymore. Just for fun I spent some time playing with the contrast button, putting back her vibrant color and then watching her gray again like time lapse photography.
It made me think about aging as a loss of contrast. Smoothing the sharp edges. Blending. I like this notion. Frosty will be 13 in March. I will be ... more than that. My hair is not so brown anymore either. She and I are becoming more alike as, together, we lose our contrast. We are turning gray together - and I'd like to think I'm also more greylike than when I was all "contrasty".
Blessings upon you in this new year. May we all become more like our greyhounds in 2009.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Silver Frost
Spring 2005.
Our resident hounds were Buddy, Cissie and Aero. Friend Carol and I took a road trip to Nunn, Colorado to visit Heather Weir at her kennel - Almost Home for Hounds. Our mission was to give Heather a hand around the kennel and then bring a few hounds back to Montana for placement by our adoption group. A “few” turned out to be nine. One of these hounds was a senior gal named Frosty.
The first time Carol and I waded (literally) into a large group of hounds at Heather’s, I looked down to find this lovely older grey girl between my legs - grinning up at me. The next time, and the next, there she was again. Carol remarked early on that she was obviously "my dog".
"Not hardly," was my reply. ”We have three dogs at home - more than enough. I’m just not in the market for more.” Still – the optimistic Frosty persisted, and so did Carol.
The day we left Colorado I finally agreed to include Frosty in our load. I was certain we could find a spot for such an elegant old girl with some lucky family as we passed through Billings. Nope. The “some lucky family” turned out to be ours.
Frosty, registered “Silver Frost”, was born in Ireland on March 10, 1996, to Irish parents, Adage and Chet. She raced four seasons between 1998 & 2001, and then between 2001 and 2004 had three litters of pups, nineteen of whom were registered to race.
While there’s no doubt Tory is our Princess, Frosty is our Dutchess. She has nobility about her and nothing goes unnoticed in her world. She sees snowflakes, flowers and planes flying overhead. Her unabashed wonder at the world makes her eyes light up as if to say “Wow! Did you see that?”
She has no need to show her alpha status but if another hound gets out of line, it’s clear. One morning, as she was sleeping, Tory made the poor choice to test Frosty’s mettle. Tory stood over her and, with a low growl, demanded that Frosty surrender her bed. I’d not have believed what happened next if I hadn’t been watching. One moment Frosty was snoozing and the next, she had Tory pinned by the neck to the floor. Her speed was astonishing. Frosty didn’t hurt her, but the message was clear and the look on Tory’s face was priceless.
Frosty will be 13 years old in March. Her vision is not as clear as it once was and she’s getting a little wobbly but there’s not a hound anywhere who enjoys life and family (especially her dad)more than our old Irish girl.
Our resident hounds were Buddy, Cissie and Aero. Friend Carol and I took a road trip to Nunn, Colorado to visit Heather Weir at her kennel - Almost Home for Hounds. Our mission was to give Heather a hand around the kennel and then bring a few hounds back to Montana for placement by our adoption group. A “few” turned out to be nine. One of these hounds was a senior gal named Frosty.
The first time Carol and I waded (literally) into a large group of hounds at Heather’s, I looked down to find this lovely older grey girl between my legs - grinning up at me. The next time, and the next, there she was again. Carol remarked early on that she was obviously "my dog".
"Not hardly," was my reply. ”We have three dogs at home - more than enough. I’m just not in the market for more.” Still – the optimistic Frosty persisted, and so did Carol.
The day we left Colorado I finally agreed to include Frosty in our load. I was certain we could find a spot for such an elegant old girl with some lucky family as we passed through Billings. Nope. The “some lucky family” turned out to be ours.
Frosty, registered “Silver Frost”, was born in Ireland on March 10, 1996, to Irish parents, Adage and Chet. She raced four seasons between 1998 & 2001, and then between 2001 and 2004 had three litters of pups, nineteen of whom were registered to race.
While there’s no doubt Tory is our Princess, Frosty is our Dutchess. She has nobility about her and nothing goes unnoticed in her world. She sees snowflakes, flowers and planes flying overhead. Her unabashed wonder at the world makes her eyes light up as if to say “Wow! Did you see that?”
She has no need to show her alpha status but if another hound gets out of line, it’s clear. One morning, as she was sleeping, Tory made the poor choice to test Frosty’s mettle. Tory stood over her and, with a low growl, demanded that Frosty surrender her bed. I’d not have believed what happened next if I hadn’t been watching. One moment Frosty was snoozing and the next, she had Tory pinned by the neck to the floor. Her speed was astonishing. Frosty didn’t hurt her, but the message was clear and the look on Tory’s face was priceless.
Frosty will be 13 years old in March. Her vision is not as clear as it once was and she’s getting a little wobbly but there’s not a hound anywhere who enjoys life and family (especially her dad)more than our old Irish girl.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
A Christmas Wish
I stepped out on the deck this morning to take this photo. Sure didn't stay long - it's zero out there! The only thing moving was the center of the river which, of course, continues to flow whether we can see it or not. Made me think about the bears all snuggeld into their dens snoozing. Only the lifeblood that continues to very slowly course through their veins sustains them through these frigid months, carrying the promise of renewed life with Spring's return.
It's a grand time for introspection, for stillness, for contemplating the miracles that surround us. My wish for you this Christmas Eve is that you can embrace the rhythm of life, appreciate all things much larger than yourself, and know the wonder of miracles.
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