A birthday and a bag of trivia

Sorry I’ve been erratic about my blog but friends and family are gathering to help me celebrate my birthday this weekend, and I’ve been too tired from the festivities too post much. I am feeling the love and will post some pictures Sunday night—or more probably Monday morning.

Everyone knows it’s hot, so I won’t belabor the point except to say that I don’t know that I’ve ever seen honeysuckle wilt before. My poor fig tree, destined to come out someday anyway, is also drooping. We may lose it before we mean to.

Trivia knowledge for the day: Did you know that Mrs. Grundy is a common term used to denote a person who has conventional moral standards? I kept seeing references to Mrs. Grundy in the book on the Gilded Age that I’m studying, so I looked it up. No note as to whether or not she was ever a real person but feel free to drop her name casually in conversation. 

Quote for the day that really speaks for me: “I live at the intersection of politics and religion…. My faith impels me into the public square.” Sister of Social Services Simone Campbell, quoted in Richard Rohr’s daily meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation.  

Lesson for the day learned the hard way: A daughter may be a daughter all of her life, but she won’t help you bone and dice the chicken. You’re on your own, Mom.

Last night, Sophie got into a run-and-chase game with her dog-cousin, Kosmo, Jamie’s three-month Pomeranian pup who is surprisingly fleet and was absolutely fascinated by Sophie’s bushy tail—he chased it, he chewed it, he couldn’t leave it alone. Everyone said, “She’ll sleep well tonight.” Not so. Instead of exhausted, she was energized. She went out twice after I came out to the cottage—the second time Jamie had to come out and entice her inside with his hamburger. But I no sooner got in bed than she began to bark to go out. I told myself she had no need—she just wanted to play.

I didn’t want to let her out because I’m not comfortable leaving her out unsupervised, especially in the dark, I can’t go chase her, and by then it was too late to ask anyone else to go get her. For thirty minutes, I swear, I ignored the barking. But finally, I erupted out of the covers and yelled at her more harshly than I ever have. She was astounded and stared at me in amazement, her tail wagging ever so slowly and ever so tentatively. She settled down—so I thought. But after a bit she started in again. Once when she’d been good for a while, I gave her a chew treat to occupy her. Worked for a bit.

At some point, when I just drifted off, something electronic beeped loudly, occasioning another round of barking. I thought it was the electricity saying goodbye, but when I looked the little light in the living room was still on. I think now it was my phone, sounded that close, and I wonder if it was an Amber Alert. No sign of it this morning.

We slept fitfully, and this morning she got me up at six-thirty. Now, bless her, she’s sleeping soundly, and we have sort of patched our differences.

Tonight, my extended family comes for barbecue. It’s been several years since we’ve had the family together. We will miss one niece and her family, but it will still be jolly.