Monday, May 09, 2011

The haircut makes the man, an apology, and a word about memoirs

My Australian shepherd, Scooby, got his summer haircut today. He was a shaggy mess, as the "before" picture illustrates. He's a rescue dog and was apparently abused in his early life, so a lot of things scare him--including being groomed. If I try to get those mats and that dead hair out of his rear end, he simply sits down. So my solution is this haircut, which I'm sure is more comfortable in the heat of a Texas summer. But tonight, he's acting a little weird, and I wonder if he feels exposed and naked. I never gave collies a haircut, when I had them, because I heard that those thick coats insulated them against the heat (hard to believe) and that their egos or psyches or whatever would be damaged. But Scoob has had a haircut every summer now for years (he's almost eleven), so he should be used to it.
Apologies to Colin--everyone that I talked to seems to have read the blog that he didn't call for Mother's Day. He called today and said all day yesterday he kept telling himself, "I've got to call Mom," but he didn't get it done. He says we're tit for tat because I didn't call him on his birthday. I can't believe that, because I always remember my kids birthdays and particularly his--he was born on the birthday of my younger sister who died at the age of six months. When I called my folks to say the adoption agency had placed a baby with us born April 22, the first thing Dad said was, "That's Jeannie's birthday." So humble apologies to Colin. He said my transgression was worse because I blogged about him, and I suggested he start a blog. "Nah, we'll just call it even."
My last memoir class at TCU today for the semester. Gosh, those ladies have interesting stories to tell--and a few shady characters lurk in some family trees. As one woman said, "Don't shake my family tree too hard--no telling what you'll get." Several of them seem headed to really exploring some aspects of their family and childhood, and if I've gotten them started in that direction, I'll feel it was a worthwhile course. I'll miss those Monday brown bag lunches with my tuna sandwich. HR may offer it again in the fall, but we have little carryover in that class, so I'll greet a whole new group of women. Whereas the evening class goes on from session to session with the same, oh-so-comfortable group. I'm finding these classes a rewarding part of my retirement.

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