Joe Blow and the Quarter Century

Somebody had a birthday! We celebrated with a dinner at Grammy's house--Erkie-Pie requested her special lamb and potatoes. Yum!
He asked for a bike pump--it's called Joe Blow. I thought it was a cute name although I still couldn't ever remember the brand when I tried to tell Grammy what he wanted. It fits both kinds of bike stems and has an attachment for blowing up rafts and tubes. It's so heavy duty that it'll last forever.


Shopping was easy because he posted a wish list on Amazon--ideas galore. This scale will not only tell him how much he weighs, but also how much body fat he has and if he's well-hydrated. I'm afraid to step on it--ignorance is bliss when it comes to my percent body fat. His smile says he's gonna get me on it anyway. Evil child.

Of course, he asked for some science fiction and fantasy books too. Poor guy, it's in his genes and he can't help it. (He's even named after a sci fi character.) There's no escape.

Memories of birthday parties with watermelons, cakes with little trains, special presents, birthday cash. Seems like just yesterday he went out this door on his way to kindergarten. How'd he ever get so big so quickly?!

Panic

I feel like summer is almost over and I haven't accomplished a tenth of the things I wanted to before school starts again.

Last year carpal tunnel gave me a good excuse to do nothing, but I actually got a lot done because I was too dumb to realize my wrists had a problem. This summer I could feel my wrists regaining strength as I heaved rocks into new landscape and hauled railroad ties out of the way.

I think that I was too ambitious this summer. Re-landscaping the backyard and adding a stream and pond and stripping furniture and either walking or biking with friends daily and leaving town for three weeks and trying to survive endless hot days with no air conditioning and trying to revamp the irrigation system and make new curtains for the family room might have been more of a challenge than I was up for.

I've lowered my sights. So today I managed to plant one rose bush. Yep, one whole rose! It meant working in the heat and taking hose showers to stay cool; it meant removing old used-up soil and mixing the new humus with the compost; it meant finding roots that had to be cut out before the rose went in. But it got done. It's the first thing I've planted since the fence went back up!

Tomorrow's sights are set on maneuvering two more railroad ties back in place and moving some good soil in the raised bed. I've got a few other holes in process; they need to be deeper and root-free, but they're started. I have a feeling that the men in my life might be doing some grunt work for me this weekend.

Kharma's Dream Vacation

This is Quincy (now four months old) and his mom. Isn't he gorgeous? He's a very very very blond golden retriever pup. We call him The Polar Bear. They invited us--"us" being the K-dog and I--up to their lake cabin. It's become a much-loved summer tradition.

It's Kharma's favorite place. She enjoys swimming around the dock, chasing the ducks, geese and seagulls that hang around. She loves swimming as much as any kid and will spend as much time in the lake as allowed. Conservatively, she probably spent six hours in the water. She's currently very clean!
Quincy's mom gave her a new nickname--Air Kharma--because she pogos off the dock to get onto the beach. Any normal dog would use the ramp. Doesn't Air Kharma sound like a great name for an airline? Just imagine the commercials--"Fly Air Kharma and get your just desserts"--showing a girl and her dog lolling on a tropical beach. Okay, maybe I'm a little old for the girl designation, it's a granite shore, and Kharma's legs are filthy--but the delight and relaxation were primo.

Kharma's never been in a kayak before; I wish I had some photos of our struggles.

• Plan A was just have her jump in with me;
• Plan B was just to get her to sit;
• Plan C was to let her jump overboard and swim;
• Plan D was hauling her out of the lake and letting her stand on the kayak's stern;
• Plan E was letting her walk all over the kayak's deck until she fell off;
• Plan F was to give up and put her in her crate;
• Plan G was to give up kayaking and return to a howling dog;
• Plan H is to have her get completely comfortable jumping in and out of and sitting in the kayak on shore before repeating the same steps in the shallows before ever letting her in with me again.

Sigh, I should have taken it slowly from the beginning but I'm determined to succeed in getting her on-board and calm!

The K-dog was much happier hiking around the lake--pushing through ferns, leaping creeks, dashing down into the lake, meeting other vacationing pups, keeping our beach free from marauding ducks, playing with Quincy and occasionally checking to see if I was napping or awake.

I had a very pooped puppy dog; she napped in her crate during the two hour trip and nothing, but nothing, that Zelda did could get her to play when we got home.

As usual, Kharma has let me know that if Quincy's mom wants to adopt another dog she'll happily change homes. (No worries, it's just her way of telling me she had a good time.) She'll have to settle for me, the frisbee in the pasture and hikes up the creek until next summer rolls around and another trip to the lake is on the calendar!