powers of deduction

Our doorbell rings.
(sitting on couch) My youngest son says, “Who is it?”
(standing behind couch) I reply, “I don’t know. I don’t have x-ray vision.”
I could of guessed right though. I walked down the not too long hallway to answer the front door. It’s a neighbor boy, the 6th grade one, wondering if my boys can play. Yes. Yes, they can. Come on in and join the fun. Just leave your shoes on. Go quickly. I have ahold of Blue. Next thing I knew they were switching houses, from ours to his. My house is quiet, for just a little bit. For this I am admittedly thankful. Saturday just keeps getting better. ~ Janean

P.S. I spoke too soon. Let the wild woofing commence. Blue’s at his backyard facing window, and this is how he says, “SQUIRREL!!!!” *sigh* Quiet was nice while it lasted. All 2.3 seconds of it.

October 13, 2012

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

NOTE TO SELF: When the nine month old puppy is out of sight and quiet for too long DO NOT assume he is napping. Because when you ask your children, “Where’s Blue?” he may come trotting from around the corner, carrying a piece of couch upholstery in his mouth, grinning his wolf-like grin. So, I doused the couch in green apple spray and pushed it up against the bay window, shutting down his favorite hangout/barking spot in the center of the window. This is when I’m thankful the couch is from 1999. I think my usually sweet and charming pup has officially entered The Teenage Years. Lord help me!!!! Now he’s sprawled out ready for a morning nap. Grrrrrr That’s me growlin’, not the dog…maybe I need a morning nap too. ~ Janean

I awoke to a “WOOF” at 4:20 a.m.
just as well since I was dreaming of pot roast
that’s a new one
diet induced dreaming
out we went
the sweet pup and I
in again for his breakfast
and mine
pot roast dreams long gone
filled instead with healthy cereal
sorta sated anyway
another “WOOF”
well, bowls are portable
out we go once more
this is my first birdsong breakfast
eaten in the open air
perched on the edge of the deck
by the stairs
the sky is moonlight blue
with a not quite half
not quite crescent moon
still hanging in the sky
the horizon begins to glow
in warm shades of gold
as the dog and I go in
once more
it’s time for coffee

June 12, 2012
it’s now 5:00 a.m.

5:30 a.m. on Tuesday, April 10, 2012, added two quarts of oil to my wonderful old gal, Lola the Corolla. There is now more than the merest smidge of oil on the end of the dipstick. Last Friday afternoon, as I drove around town with my sons, my empty fuel light AND my oil light were coming on as a WARNING. Thankfully the fuel fill up was in a nick of time and we didn’t run all the way out of gas. Bought oil at the grocery store last night. I’m sure I paid too much, but it was my last chance to see to it for a few days time and it needed to be done. I’m so glad my dad saw fit to teach me how to check and add oil to my car. I remembered to use a funnel this time, so the garage floor doesn’t have an oil puddle. He taught me other cool stuff too like how to bait a hook, cast a line, shoot a gun, gas weld, fry an egg, cook a burger, sew a button on and drive. The two lessons that were obvious at the time, and not veiled in conversation, are:
1. Don’t speed in small towns.
2. Seek the good and shun the bad.
The second was uttered, as we were left the house I grew up in, on the way to college for my freshman year. That was when his dad shared it with him too. My grandpa heard it from his uncle when he left home to serve in WWII. My children have heard it already. More than once. I’m not waiting until they are eighteen to pass it on. They need now. We all do. All this to say, Dads are special. Oil Pouring Writing About Random Stuff Moms are too, even if we do have to say so ourselves. It’s 5:55 a.m. now. Time to make lunches, pack snacks for testing and write a schedule for today because it’s Mom’s Day Off. Granted, I have to go to the hospital to get one. You see, I’m running on empty and need some TLC, just like my old Corolla. I’ll be OK. Just need to be flat and still after the procedure so I’m off work until tomorrow morning when Blue says, “Woof”, or I wake up on my own. Whichever comes first.

dog tired

Is it a bad sign when it’s not yet 9:00a.m., there is still coffee in the pot, and more than anything you just want to go back to bed? I figure it is too early in the day to call it a nap. Puppy was up at 2:30a.m., sometime between 4 and 5, and again at 6:30a.m. That’s when I got up, planning to stay up for the whole entire day. The previous times I took him out, then back in, took him out and fed him and back in… In between I kept rekenneling him and going back to bed. I must have slept. Each time I was there long enough to have crazy dreams before being awoken sooner than I wanted to be from the dog sounds coming through the puppy monitor. For the record, there was a thirty minute walk in there too. Alas, no back to bedding, no napping. Not for me anyway. That dog?! He’s sawing logs, happily curled up in the family room, where the TV is blaring a dog themed show, and the rest of the family is done with breakfast. It’s Spring Break here. Day 4 of No School. Woof.

under the maple tree
the biggest tree in my backyard
sittin’ here on a Sunday mornin’
just me and my big Blue dog
we’ve been up since five
goin’ in and out of the house
and ‘round the block
on a pajama clad walk
coffee’s long gone
tryin’ to kept him quiet
while the rest of my family sleeps
even that cat
so here I sit
under the maple tree
in a quiet backyard
except for bird sound
and an occasional woof
shhhhh
people are sleeping
their windows are open
yet here we sit
two awake beings
under the maple tree
on a Sunday morn
time to go in
again

breakfast food analogy

I am toast
and not the pretty golden brown
evenly buttered kind
I’m stuck in the toaster
charred beyond recognition
crumbling burned black toast
evidently when my day starts at 4:30a.m.
by 6-something in the evening I am done
kaput
not worth much
by almost 7:30p.m. I am toast
actually those crumbs in the bottom if the toaster
I may be in bed before the children tonight
unless I fall asleep on the backyard chaise
where I have the dogs leash under a leg
to hold it in place
and I am stretched out fairly flat
my eye lids at half mast
there are dishes
clean ones to unload
pots and pans to do by hand
laundry to fold
more to move around
from one machine to another
but something’s burning
smoldering
crumbling
beyond done
crumble
crumble
ick
charred to bits
toast