happy dog

Lucy's Story

Thank you Ms Changes Pants While Driving! If it weren't for you, I might never have realized how much I wish that double sided duct tape existed. Sure wouldn't want to fall on that stuff though.

Happiness makes me quiet, and for some reason impedes my writing creativity and stimulates my visuals. Visuals as in painting and such. But, let's talk about the dog.

Had my internet been hooked up during her first 6 days, I would have woefully poured out my story. I had this dog for just 7 hours, until her floppy ears suddenly went pointy and propelled her up and over the fence. She looked over her shoulder at me as she bolted into the night. I ran after her, but her shtumpy legs outraced my own. I searched, I cried, I made pitiful flyers, none of which made any difference. She came home at 4am the next night in a heavy downpour. She whimpered at the door, and bolted when I opened it. Over the next SIX days, the joke was on the "lost" dog flyers. She was never lost, she was right over there. She returned home 3 to 4 times a day, each time to sadly flee me again. Neighbors called with reports of the latest sightings. At Jiffy Lube, in the grocery parking lot, in the damn intersection of racing traffic. This dog was never lost, just uncatchable. I cooked bacon with my door open and made many other animal friends. I gave my name, number, and address to every stranger within a mile. I found my dog walking routine, twice a day, I walked dogless with bacon bits, calling and coaxing. She met me on most of these walks from a 20 foot distance. On the sixth day, she seemed to be expecting me. She cocked her crazy, fuzzy, face at me from a leaf pile, gave a big dog stretch and came bounding up to me. Bounding, I tell you. As if she'd been looking for me the whole time. Crazy little dog still lives at home, and is hugely attached. However, she can scale a 6 foot fence, and nighttime possesses her. I may have a leash surgically attached to her jugular.

Welcome home, Lucy, aka, Piggly Wggly.

Dogtime

This blog has become just a bookmark to those I like to read. So thank you, links to the right, for being the only reason I visit my own page.

But, then again, we now have Lucy.

It's really time for me to go to work

I often hear bloggers suggest that their absences coincide with rough times. My absences are the opposite. Writing is not my natural creative outlet, more of a space to process. Life is spiffy for me at the moment, which seems to leave me with little to say. Yet, I have this blank space here that calls for something in it........

I trail off and need to paint......

Perhaps, that is the way th.......

more trailing.....

my natural writing skill emerges.......

yet doesn't.....

..........

....

Derailed

Cabbage, but then Lux Interior died. Was it really that long ago that I rubbed his chest? Wow, it was nearly 15 years ago. It was so smooth, everybody else was doing it, then we all jumped off a bridge and it was punk rock.

Background music for all things Cabbage

Cabbage Rolls and Coffee

The sharing videos option from youtube is not working so there is the link. The song starts about 6 minutes into the skit. I like that my question triggered so many culinary and musical cravings. I guess nobody won, except for me. That rocks. So I shall write an Ode to Cabbage and Myself, the winner.

Thank you for playing.

Canned Milk and Coffee, Mmm, Mm, Good

I'll give a prize to the first person who catches my reference. The prize will be a shiny new blog post, all about Cabbage, sometime in the next month or so. That was a hint.

Five runners up will receive nothing, but will impress me with their existence.

Good luck.

We Got This Depression On

And I told my boss I hated my job. And lots of people around me are losing their jobs. And my bosses told me that whatever they could do to assist me in either staying or leaving, they would do. Including moving me around in the agency so that I will stay. I am very lucky, and I remember this.

On friday, my same boss's next door neighbor shot himself, my co-worker watched a little old lady nearly kill several people as she floored her car through the parking lot and front doors of Target, and then a kid got killed in Tacoma by a monster truck.

I have found a lucky penny nearly every day for the last 2 weeks, plus some other change. I'm up to 31 days of good luck.

I'm superstitious enough, that I don't like to talk about it, lest I jinx it.

I struggle to resist deleting.

I tend to overthink.

That's all.

Winter Love with a Side of Jack Torrence

I love that this town shuts down in the snow! I love trudging through the glinty wonderment while my car nestles ever deeper into its spot. I love the Shining-esque thoughts that stab through snowy hedges and make me jump at falling icicles. I love the Christmas lights reflecting like candy, and if nobody were looking, I might taste one. I love that it's too billowy to get hurt when I fall down. Oh, and I love David Bowie.

Overslept and still ok

Crazy is when you OVERSLEEP until 6:50 am. How could that possibly be oversleeping? Have you ever left someplace, knowing you'll miss certain people, but after you leave, you miss different people more than you ever imagined you could?

And thank you for the cubicle sympathy. When I applied for this job, there was just a desk. By the time I started, they had provided me some "privacy." At least the office itself has lots of windows. They are just partially blockaded by carpeted partitions.

This morning I began to blog

First of all, it's 8:50 am, and I've been awake for an hour on my day off. I tend not to blog when I'm in a negative space, because my words whine back at me, and I want to smack them. I could never do NoBloWhatever-you-call-it, like (segue here --->), Ashley is doing. You should go to her page, because her food is tasty and vivid, and she won't make you wait 10 days in between posts.

Second, I miss my job. I like to sleep as opposed to working until midnight every night, but so far, that is all I like about this new deal. I went from chaos and noise to a quiet, yellow office filled with chatty co-workers who stroll through the halls like old ladies at a quilt show. If we were attending said quilt show, that would be fine, meandering has it's place, but we're at work, people, let's move! Someone actually told me to slow down the other day, and it took every speck of self-censorship to resist asking, "So, what would you say you DO here?"

So, to fill in the gaps for those who care, I went from being a residential counselor in a teen house to a case manager in the housing department. I help yout's with extensive criminal records get housing and jobs, so that they become more skilled at living legally, and less likely to break into your home to violate your pets. Yes, I have the dark element necessary to my life, but overall, the work is quiet and calm.

And, this is my first cubicle.

It's true.

There is a gray carpet panel in between me and the window. I put tree drawings up to trick myself.