a real soaker
I love you
May 30, 2018
a real soaker
I love you
May 30, 2018
Panzer pawing at the window to get Blue’s attention. For the first time ever, didn’t work. Blue did sit up when he spied a squirrel hopping through a neighbor’s yard. Sitting here awhile longer as the breeze blows.
April 27, 2018
Spring has been extra beautiful this year
maybe it’s because winter was so extra cold and snowy
maybe it’s just because every spring my heart soars as the trees and flowers bud and bloom
daffodils have come and gone
tulips are still tuliping
lilacs are just beginning
magnolias and forsythia fade into redbuds and the white burst of Bradford Pears
the sky seems extra blue
the birds serenade with the most melodious of songs
especially this morning
in the quiet stillness
of that moment just before dawn
I heard them through my bedroom window
saw the sun filtering in
heard the dog stir
just us and a few other early dogs
thankful for the lack of wind
savoring the sunshine and blue skies
a backdrop for the renewal of Spring
it’s all rather glorious
early on a Sunday morning
May 4, 2014
Blue and I saw the sunrise begin along the horizon. It was orange and gold then, as we circled ‘round the block and headed toward the park for the first time in weeks, due to cold and snow packed sidewalks. We both were missing our longer route. A few days ago he tugged that way, but I said, “No” and we took the shorter route to home. Today we ventured further once again. I was feeling ready and the dog was more than eager. “Let me at ‘em,” he said, with his nose down tracking. As we rounded the corner to the wide park path the glaze of ice was evident. Drat. Plan B was better. We walked in the grass. Diagonal even. A shortcut, “As the crow flies,” to quote an old expression. Blue looked at me with eyes that said, “Really?! You sure about this?! Fine by me, just checking.” That dog. I love him. Amber eyes that say so much. He didn’t woof, just trotted and stopped until I tugged. We made it home. Told boys, “Time to get up.” No one did immediately. Eventually they did. Before then though, a rose colored light caught my attention through the kitchen window. Oh. I opened the sliding glass door to the back deck. This. Pink clouds galore. Rose colored light. The essence of living life focusing on the Bright Side. Rose colored glasses. Except it was the whole sky casting rose light everywhere it touched. What a glorious way to begin a day. Today. I stood on the deck alone for just mere moments. Blue watched from the other side of the door, but greeted me as I walked back in to home. Good morning. I woke up hungry before 4am, but stayed in bed awhile longer. Morning whirl of dog walked, boys to school, now I can stop and breathe a second. Much better. Breakfast for me is next. Today is here. Embrace it.
January 14, 2014
Dear Driver of the Maroon Pickup Truck,
Thank you for putting your snowplow blade down to bust through the drifts and heaps o’snow from the street plow at the bottom of my driveway. I tried to walk out and say, “Thank You” in person, but that’s when you started up the snowblower motor and we couldn’t hear each other. I headed back indoors through the cloud of snow dust you were making.
I watched you work from the front window, with one hand resting upon Blue. My big hearted, protector dog was window watching too. I was waiting for another chance to say, “Thanks. A LOT!”
Instead, my youngest son came upstairs asking about bacon to eat, round two. (It’s since been cooked and devoured now.) While in the moment still, I replied lightning fast to two messages on my phone, singing the praises of you, my unknown snow removal guy. Really?! Wow.
I made it back to the front window in time to see you back inside your truck, about to drive away. You’d left it running, for a quick getaway. Glad we exchanged that brief wave. Me, hanging out the front door with my winter coat on, still hoping to catch your name. You, already back in the driver’s seat, ready to roll. More snow to clear, before you called it a day. Your wave was as chivalrous as an old time, white hatted cowboy. Felt like I heard you say as you drove away, “You’re welcome. My pleasure, Ma’am.” So what if the dialogue is imagined, the sentiment is real. Thank you kindly in reply.
In one of those two texts, sent at 1:15pm today, I wrote, “Let me share a praise: A maroon pick up truck just came and plowed my drive. Then a man got out and is snow blowing the rest. I don’t know who but am thankful. Yesterday Jake the dog’s “dad” snow blew it some. Good people out there. Thankful here. God is so good. I’ve already been weepy today. What’s a few more tears? Joy kind. :)”
Just now, at 2:23pm Marilyn replied, “That is so neat Janean. God’s provision for you.”
I simply replied, “Yes. I know. Thankful, humbled and blessed. Amen”
I just want you to know I noticed and appreciate YOU!
Janean M. Baird
P.S. For the record, the temperature at this moment, according to The Weather Channel app: -11*F (Feels like -35*F) Yep. Still Crazy Cold.
P.S.S. The weirdest part is your timing is that just moments before I’d been outside with Blue. He “went” fast and wanted to play, but I threw him back inside. I was going to go back out and shovel a bit. Cold schmold. I love being outside. I’d just closed the front door to unhook the dog’s leash when the house phone rang. It was my father in law, checking in. He joked about thinking he’d miss me, because I’d be outside shoveling. Told him honestly, I nearly was. We talked a bit before the call dropped and we switched to text, just a little after 1pm. So, if you read to the bottom of my note, “Thank you” once again.
January 6, 2014
I reported at 6:15am, “Blue is sleeping in. Smart dog.”
Of course, just like with human children, when you remark on their sleep habits, they do the opposite to prove you wrong and by 6:38am, my Blue dog appeared beside my bed to see if I was awake too. I scratched his velvety ears and then he woofed to say, “Get up already!” I did.
In record time that dog and I went out and were back inside before 7:00am. Here’s my micro report from that excursion:
At first Blue went romping through the snow drifts thinking, “Woo hoo! This is fun!” Then he started limping and holding up a back paw. Suddenly the spot in front of our house between the sidewalk and curb, where the wind blew the snow down to where you can see the grass with a fire hydrant conveniently located nearby was THE SPOT and we’re both back inside. Dog looked at me not quite sure what kind of snow and cold that was today, nothing like the fun of yesterday. I told him he was a good boy and to go get warm. He ate a bite and is stationed in his front window watching post now. Good morning. Safe travels if you must.
The Weather Channel app declares it is -17*F and feels like -45*F. I keep calling it crazy cold, which is evidently what comes after snot freezing cold on my thermometer. I’m obviously not A Weather Girl. Usually I just wake up, get dressed enough and head outside because it’s time to walk the dog.
January 6, 2014