Spa day

Skinny, clean Sophie.

No, not for me! I’m not a spa day kind of a person, though my daughters are. Today was a spa day for Sophie, and I am so relieved. I predicted she would lose five pounds when trimmed and groomed, and while we haven’t weighed her, she looks so much thinner. My Colin had said that she was getting broad across the beam, and I did worry about her gaining weight. I also worried about her being dirty—she was out in all kinds of weather, seeming to love the cold, running and chasing squirrels through dirt and flower beds and whatever. And I admit there was a certain eau d’doggie about her.

I had let her go too long by the time I called for a grooming appointment and then, when it was finally scheduled, an ice storm cancelled it. So today, at long last Nathan, the wonderful young man who grooms her, came to the house. When he brought her back, looking like a new dog, he admitted there was a lot of dirt in her coat and said he thought she felt a lot better with all that extra fur and dirt gone. So tonight I am loving having a clean, fairly thin—okay reasonably proportioned—dog.

Highlight of my day was not so much fun but then again not serious, just a slight inconvenience. Jordan had to drive me to the cardiologist’s office at 8:45 this morning—far too early for me—to be fitted with a Holter monitor for 24 hours. No big deal. The doctor thinks a slight adjustment of medication is needed but wanted to check first, and I’m grateful for the precaution. Though tonight I am “wired,” literally. I have stuck the monitor itself in my jeans pocket—guess who will be sleeping in her clothes!

Other than that, a typical workday. I am moving ahead rapidly on the Irene mystery, even if tonight it was after eight o’clock before I turned to it. The day seemed to go by with emails and news briefs—I cannot tear myself away from the horror in Ukraine nor from the worldwide condemnation of Russia. Dinner was all fixed—Jordan made our favorite casserole Saturday for a neighbor who had surgery, so we feasted tonight on the extra she made for us.

One of those nights when I literally don’t have much to say. Maybe that’s a blessing. But I did want to share the picture of clean Sophie and to wish everyone well. We are living in unforgettable times. I read a commentator who said today our world will never go back to being what it was before the Ukraine invasion. So think about what we’ve lived through in the last two or three years: a pandemic which killed hundreds of thousands of our neighbors, an unprecedented snow and ice winter (and almost a second one this year), an attempted coup against our government, a contested election which has never happened in our history, and now a violent, greedy land-grab invasion. Granted, it’s in a distant land, but the world is small these days. Isolationism is impossible (sorry, Mr. trump) and what happens anywhere in the world impacts all of us. My take? This invasion of Ukraine will separate the true patriots for the selfish, sunny-day people who yell a lot about freedom and democracy but understand neither and do nothing to protect them.

God Bless America!

An ordinary day

I waited all day for the rains that were supposed to come, but we got just one slight shower in early afternoon, accompanied by just enough distant thunder to make Sophie nervous. In contrast, Megan reports that in Austin it dumped all day.

I wanted rain for my garden that is beginning to look really good. Last week, the yard guys planted an amazing number of pentas along the front of the deck, where no grass will grow. I had thought one flat of pentas was a reasonable cost and, yes, I knew there’s be a bit of labor involved. But it’s something I can’t do myself, and Christian cannot either. Besides his interest is in filling the front porch with beauty, and he does a tremendous job of it.

Still I was surprised by a crew of three, some heavy equipment, and at least thee flats of pentas. And then I was surprised by the bill. But they look great, and they are right where I can look out the window by my desk and enjoy them. They should bloom all summer.

The other blooming plant—a bush really—that I’m much enjoying is the oak leaf hydrangea. There is one directly under the window by my desk. When we had regular hydrangea there, they never grew tall enough for me to see, and I only enjoyed them when I went in or out the driveway. But the oak leaf blossoms have grown tall enough that they peek over the windowsill.

The true beauty though is an oak leaf that is by the back fence—I can see it distantly from my desk through the patio door, but I really enjoy looking at it when we have happy hour on the patio. We haven’t done that in a couple days—busy schedules,                                                                                                      and I’m not much for sitting out there myself. I need a little help getting my walker over the high lintel—when we built this cottage, we had no idea I’d need a walker. All that aside, the plant is magnificent. Next to it, a turks cap, once tall and glorious, is now a ground plant struggling to gain some height. I don’t know what happened to it, but I used to love the tall red blossoms.

Other than admiring my plants, it was an ordinary day—work at my desk, leftovers for supper (sometimes a very good thing—tonight a salmon cake, corn pudding, and a bit of guacamole). But these days, I am aware of what a blessing an ordinary day is, when we are surrounded by such gloomy predictions.

I would not say Dr. Fauci was gloomy at the hearings today. He was, instead, knowledgeable and realistic, but the picture he painted of what happens if the world opens too soon was grim. I am appalled at Rand Paul’s rudeness to him and much impressed by the good doctor’s grace in handling that rudeness. There’s been a lot on the net today about class, since McConnell brought it up in reference to President Obama’s comments on the handling of the novel coronavirus. Dr. Fauci gave a lesson in class. I’m sure it went over McConnell’s head.

Ah, me, what days we live in.

The World is Too Much with Us

All I can think of tonight is William Wordsworth’s sonnet, “The world is too much with us, late and soon.” It’s what the current turmoil in our country has done to my brain. When I wake up, I’m aware at least that the orange man hasn’t gotten us blown up overnight, but my next thought is, “What has he done? What has he tweeted?” News junkie that I’ve become, I seem incapable of turning away from it.

I am alternately fascinated and amazed that any one man can distort news so badly. It was bad enough when he took credit for zero major air crashes in 2017—when we haven’t had any since 2009, and the credit is due the airlines, the FAA, and other regulatory bodies. He has had nothing to do with it.

Today, bashing Bannon, he announced he won the 2016 Republican primary, beating out sixteen other hopefuls in what he called the best group of candidates the Republicans had ever fielded. Don’t you remember? We all called them the “clown car.”

There are two ways to look at it: he’s cunning as a fox, and this is all part of some elaborate scheme to end democracy and take over the government, or, he is seriously delusionl and advancing farther into dementia with every day.

I read a New York Times article today, based on Michael Wolff’s new book Fury and Fire, about how the plan was for Trump to lose the election and what ensued when he found himself in power. Remember that first moment when it was announced—the surprised look on his face? Those first months in the White House, with Bannon still calling the shots, are frightening in retrospect. Find the article and read it.

Politics aside, and we must put it aside for our own sanity, my day was ordinary—work, lunch with a good friend (yeah, we talked politics but also a bit of history, which I love), a nap, more work and fiddling at my desk, dinner with the family. Christian fixed a roast in the crockpot and made gravy of packets of ranch and au jus seasonings, drippings, a bit of chicken broth, and cream cheese—so wonderful! Tasted like stroganoff. And that was my day—pleasant but unremarkable.

I’m grateful that it’s gradually beginning to warm up. I can’t complain, however, because my cottage has stayed warm and cozy. We can’t say, however, that spring is just around the corner. We’ve got Stock Show weather coming up.

Stay warm and safe.