WOOF

I used to be the neighbor who grumbled about dogs that always barked.
Now I have one.
That’s irony.
My youngest son calls Blue a barkaroo.
He made up a song about it,
“Blue is the bark-a-roooo
of the cent-ur-eeee.”
Those are the only words, sung on a continuous loop in melodious nine year old boy lilt.
Of course I’m charmed.
He’s my fourth grade son, singing about our big sweet pup who still needs to learn some volume control.
That’s love.
~ Janean

July 23, 2012

Dear Queen Anne,
I love your lace.
I always have.
Since childhood.
When I’d tuck a stem behind my ear and the delicate blooms would tickle my face.
I picked a dozen and wove the long stems into a crown, oblivious to the minute white petals in my hair long after the crown was gone.
I chose the prettiest blooms and presented them to my grandma in a great big bunch.
Flowers, flowers everywhere in her multilayered gardens, but the only one I was allowed to pick was your lace, Queen Anne.

Time passes.
That young girl, once so carefree, grew into a woman with a family of her own.
But I’m still me.
In the light of early morning, walking my sweet pup on a new path, I spied a familiar flower.
For I never could call it a weed, with a name as lovely as, “Queen Anne’s Lace.”
Hello my friend.
Thank you for waking up my memories, of those childhood days long gone.
My grandma is gone now too.
Smiling down from heaven as I snapped off a single bloom and kept on walking.
Heading home.
Puppy slowing down, pulling less, heeling more.
I know full well it’s against the rules to pick flowers in a public park, as they are there for everyone to enjoy.
I rationalized no one would miss one weed…
Even though in my heart I didn’t think it so.
Thank you for the beautiful, pure white, intricate blooms of your lace, Queen Anne.
I’ll be walking that way again and a flower may or may not follow me home again…
(Depending a bit on who is reading.)
Love,
Janean

July 21, 2012

must be Monday

I kissed my husband, as I headed out the door with the barking to go out dog…again.
And said, “Have a good day” and added, “I promise not to be a b*tch.”
As if it being 4-H crunch time weren’t enough of a reason for that promise, there are more…
The Cat, needs to see the vet unexpectedly for an open wound we saw for the first time at bedtime last night. Poor Miss Snuggles. Hoping it’s not too serious (or expensive).
That Dog, is into EVERYTHING this morning:
First, Blue ate most of a toy air rocket made of nerf-like material.
Then he smashed my daylilies to smithereens because he thinks they feel good to lie on while rocket chewing.
Next thing I knew, Blue pulled the downspout extender out from under the deck stairs and drug it into the yard in order to recover one of his tennis balls that have been missing for awhile.
Topped off by Blue ducking underneath the grill cover, that is drying out across the top of two patio chairs, because he thinks it makes a cool Dog Fort. I only wish he was grinning with his tongue lolling out in the photo I managed to snap before shooing him out from under there.
Somewhere in the midst of all that, which took place over two hours time, I made coffee, ate breakfast, sent a few emails and unloaded the dishwasher.
Oh, and did I mention the family gathering at our house this evening at 6:30?!
It’ll be a nice time.
I’m sure of it.
Thanks for listening.
Sometimes just being able to vent a bit, can take the edge off my surly self.
Hugs help too.
Always.
So do hot showers and naps.
Blue is napping now.
Can I join him?
Not yet.
Grrrrrrrrr

July 16, 2012