Bloodhound puppy, golden, Boston bull terrier

Dreamed Lark successfully put up the ewe lambs and two unfamiliar goats. Despite the animals all looking more or less right, it was a pretty unrealistic dream. Everyone went where I wanted them to. Also the ewe lambs looked about the same as when I left, which shouldn't be right.

Lee came early and took Grandma outside, which is becoming the norm. I don't think Philip got up until she left, and I know he never ate breakfast. Lunatic.

Lark did not get a walk this morning. At least, not a normal walk. First she had a ride in the car, where, despite the availability of food all morning, she did not get sick. At all. Then she had a walk--a long one, up a hill along the road from where we parked. Then we had to climb the horribly steep trail up to the stairs. At that point, I sat down--Philip had pretty much left us behind on the trail, and waited for us at the steps. There were, again, a lot of people climbing, although it was rather hotter than Saturday at first, with the sun coming and going. I think we were past the false summit before it began to rain. There was a guy climbing with a couple of kids--Oliver, a dog-lover with lots of energy, and Grace, with less attention to spare as she worked her way up. She really did well, considering how overweight she is--I'd say there's hope for her yet. Quite a lot, really, if she can finish the Incline on her first try. The young woman with the bloodhound puppy was doing it again--what with Lark, Zeus, and a young Golden, it looked rather like a puppy play date on the slope above us. Lark was having lots of fun, as I'd finally let her off the leash. I'd been wondering if Phil would approve, but when he suggested it I quit worrying about it. The view, as omitted in the last post on this subject, was great; I could even see our hill, and figure out approximately where the house was. At one point there was an enormous curtain of cloud obscuring it, though; I wonder if it corresponded with the rain at noon, which Grandma told us about. By the time we made the false summit Phil was pushing me pretty persistently, and then he came up with a system: go thirty steps, rest ten seconds. Okay. We'd done maybe half a dozen of these when there were about four more steps, at which point we dropped the system. There's a lovely flat space with lots of rocks and things to sit on at the top; we sat for awhile, admiring the view, having a drink (Philip had refused all water until the top), giving the dog a drink, and cheering Grace on. Oliver did twenty pushups, but they weren't very deep. It made me think of Grandma's story of taking Doug on the Cog Railway: once at the top, she warned him of altitude sickness, and he promptly went to the edge of the pavement and started doing pushups. Gah. We all took the trail down, in installments as one group or another left separately, and it was quite a while down the trail before my legs were anywhere near as tired as the first time. My left, while sore, was never rubbery--a relief. It began to rain more heavily on the trail, and after a bit of that Lark started giving me pathetic looks--"I don't like this, make it stop, c'mon Mom, there's stuff hitting my head!" She was alright otherwise, but we were both pretty wet by the time (after an interminable trek past various now-empty parking) we made it to the car. I toweled her off a bit with the sweater Grandma had suggested I bring, and which had hitherto served no useful purpose. But Lark lay down on it, and tried to go to sleep. (Unsuccessfully, as she slid about on the vinyl seat, but the effort was there and I appreciated it.) She came wide awake as we got to Boonzaijer's, though, and it dawned on her that Philip and I were getting out of the car and--worse--she wasn't. We went in and got fruit tarts, which are delicious confections of cream in a pastry shell with strawberry, kiwi, orange, and grape slices on top. I looked out at the parking lot as we ate, and there was that little pointed face at the window, waiting for us to come back. We did so shortly, with a slice of Belgian double chocolate mousse cake for Grandma; Lark was delighted to see me. She calmed down before we got home, though. The light was red for our turn onto Nevada, and as we sat there, watching the arrow, hail began to ping onto the windshield, closely followed by huge drops of rain. We--eventually--pulled into the driveway in a downpour. Philip ducked out of the car and dashed for the door. I tried to open my door so Lark could follow while I collected my stuff. It wouldn't open--the rear passenger doors on the Vic open only from the outside. Philip came dashing back to open it, and I let Lark out to follow him, then reached for my hat and backpack. When I got out of the car, Lark was waiting, in the pouring rain (which she detests), for me to come too. I was touched.

Followed lunch, dry clothes, and conversations. My muscles, while a bit tired, are not yet seriously complaining. 

Nap......

Philip went back to Golden after dinner--something to do with work. 

Started Wuthering Heights after the comp shut down. Got two chapters in and switched to Moliere. Grandma has a Heritage volume with Tartuffe and The Would-be Gentleman--much more fun than Bronte, and with great illustrations. And I am glad to say I can now disagree with Napoleon's summary of Tartuffe--"A third-rate comedy"--with a more informed opinion.

15 pushups, 20 situps, 5 elbow-to-knees (Lark always gets worried at this point), and three arabesque stretches.

Golden retriever, poodle mix

Maddie was glad to see me this morning. I spent some time playing with her after checking all the plants, but had to quit when the claws came out. We larked as soon as I got home, which was pretty late. It was hot out. We met a couple of people on the Heller road--a man jogging, and the woman with her Golden who warned us about the rattler last time. She didn't recognize me until she was right close and I was talking to her dog, though. Maybe because I was wearing different camos and a nonmilitary t-shirt? Hm. Anyway. Despite the heat, I managed to maintain a good brisk pace, even back up the hill on the way home, so maybe there's something to be said for long pants? Or something. I've also been thinking about borrowing Syd's bike, which she suggested before she left, but I'm still not sure I want to. I'll probably just procrastinate until I get home.

Owen, as requested, sent me some brother-pics. The one most to the point was Mom standing between Peter and Doug--and looking up at Peter. Quite a ways up, in fact. 

Urk. Maybe I should take a few weeks of Krav before I go home.

After lunch I decided to make brownies. Grandma had shown me where everything was, and I had just cracked the first egg, when the doorbell rang. Oops. It was the folks from JJ Caulking, come to inspect the situation. Jackie was along, apparently an irregular occurrence, plus her husband, Sam, and one of the boys, Clint. I use the term "boy" loosely, as he's twenty-seven. Anyway. They didn't stay very long, and then I got back to the brownies. I'd finished, and was initiating cleanup, when a deer caught my eye: there was a doe, probably once a nice bright red, standing on our side of the edge of the Seamans' driveway. Her presence, in itself, was unusual; besides it being the middle of the day and all, Grandma says the red deer rarely come up here, and it's true that she's the first I've seen beyond the Heller estate. Besides that, however, she looked awful. Her ribs were showing through her faded, patchy coat, and there were suspicious little black marks that made me think of very fat flies all up her neck and along her head. It was pretty sad. I think she was probably old; her movements were measured and slow, like Cassie's, and when Lark dashed into the greenhouse and began barking up a storm she turned her head, examined the situation, and then decided the dog was no threat. She remained wary, however, and after a minute or so she began to move slowly off.

The brownies came out very well. :) Now I'm wondering if I should take Sam up on his teasing and really make brownies for the painters when they come. If I don't I know he'll tease me, and I'd love to see his reaction if he thinks I took him seriously......mweheh.

Larked after dinner. We met only one person, a familiar jogger with his little poodle. No deer. It was fairly nice out, there having been a downpour during dinner, but there didn't seem to be anyone taking advantage of it. There was a police helicopter, though, flying back toward the far end of the little Heller valley.

15 pushups, form improving; 20 situps--note: don't count in English.

Finished Mistress of an Age, reading for three hours straight.....

Oog.....I am so hung over....Finished Horizon at about two a.m. last night. I think the series is over now, but that doesn't do me a lot of good when my female relations are firmly pulling me out of bed. Got out with Lark about nine. We went most of the way along the first leg and still got home an hour later. Urgh..... And I didn't think to get the other books in the series even though I know I always want to read the earlier books afterwards.....

Was about up to where I would normally be at eight-thirty, consciousness-wise, by about ten-thirty when Lee left. I haven't decided whether to go back to sleep, reread Horizon, start Memory, or just stay on the computer. Mom shoved me onto the comp in the interests of keeping me awake until she and Grandma left for an appointment. I ended up reading Horizon most of the time they were gone.

Peter called after they got home. It was kinda fun talking to him. He wants me to tell Philip they got Crysis, and complained a little bit about Philip buying a Macbook. "Do you know how much he could get with that, in desktop stuff?" First he relayed the news, though, and I didn't even have to understand Doug's indistinct comment to reply: he says he can't get rid of the other laptop because then he'd only have one computer, an intolerable state. Yeah, sure. Oh, and he offered several trades for Lark: I could have Owen, I could have Baron, but send them Lark. Right. Oh, and Doug's apprenticeship to Hank seems a little unlikely at the moment, thanks to more legal troubles about Josh. There's no way I would be able to understand it from talking to Peter about it, but sufficeth it that Josh was arrested, CPS got involved, and now CPS is threatening Josh's family with prison, on undisclosed charges. O-kay.

Isaac called at five-fifteen to ask if I wanted to come watch a movie tonight? No, sorry, I was going somewhere with Mom on her last evening--but would he like me to come over and play for awhile? He would. So we ran around and stuff until six. 

After dinner Mom and I went to Goodwill. I got books, she got clothes. I don't think I got any clothes, in the end....=_= But I got lots of books! Dorothy Gilman, and a random volume of Fruits Basket, the last in Mary Stewart's Merlin trilogy that I have the middle volume of but haven't read the first and am terrified of the last, a random book that looked interesting, and--wait for it--Dave Barry Does Japan. I am positive it's a bad idea, but I couldn't resist.

I'm not sure what just happened, but the result is Mom telling me that I'm coming home August 10. Uh.....okay?

Golden retriever and Border collie

Got to church in time. The pastor was Shane Stickel from Westminster, who traded with Dave for this week after the synod. He isn't as good as Dave. Philip says he's only been doing this a couple years, being formerly from this congregation, so maybe he'll get better, but his technique needs work. The sermon topic was Psalm 123, focusing on its exposition of certain aspects of prayer. I stayed awake better than I expected, considering the night I'd had, but it didn't benefit the sermon. Philip and I agree that the man has trouble with his analogies, for one thing--one made no sense and another was just wrong.

I had a nice chat with Jenna, and then Mrs. Marble with Mr. Marble in attendance (he listens, mostly), and then Jenna came and hijacked Mrs. Marble, at which point Philip took the opportunity to drag me home. We also have an invitation for next Sunday at Jenna's house for lunch--today, she said, was a bad time because it was leftover soup. It was also a bad time for us, because Chuck and Phil were coming.

They showed up in the middle of lunch, having calling from Monument to say they weren't hungry. We chatted until two, about Walden and, come to think of it, quite a lot of things, and then they went back to the hotel for a nap. Phil's still driving the Escalade. Chuck, behind his back, demonstrated the clear belief that his little brother was insane. I love those two......

Lark and I went out at three, after I caught up with a few things. We met a couple of young men early in the first leg; the main impression I got of their faces was brown hair over sunglasses with light beards below. One seemed to be shading a dark patch on his upper arm, and after giving Lark a few words ignored her. The other petted her a bit, and exchanged greetings with me. Later, in the second leg, we met a youngish woman with a Border collie and a golden. The collie was pretty close to Lark in size, if possibly lighter. The Golden, while on the small side, was not.

It was sunny when we started, but by the time we met the guys I'd taken off my shades and hat, and there was a constant rumbling mutter from the sky behind us as we came up the Heller road. A few fat drops fell as we came up the driveway. It was raining buckets within a minute of getting inside.

Chuck and Phil came back, in the pouring rain, bringing with them a lemon meringue pie. Philip left after  eating, after a good long chat session, for the church meeting to report on the state of the denomination after the synod. I elected to stay. Everybody chatted for awhile longer (which mostly means that Grandma and the boys talk and I--or Philip and I--listen) while I took the dog in and out for ball and brushing, and then Phil noticed the loppers in the greenhouse. Apparently the branches in the driveway had hit the Escalade, which I can well believe, and Phil couldn't resist. He lopped quite a pile, which I dragged out to the curb, with some canine assistance. She actually brought one branch right up to the pile and, upon request, left it there. The rest of the assistance was more questionable, of course, and then when we had finished and were walking around looking at the result, she disappeared. I went behind the house and Phil stayed in front, and we both called until the dratted dog came running down the street to Phil. At which point I shut her in the house. Anyway, I had to get the sap off my hands when we went in (Phil didn't have any) and then it was decided to go get some frozen pizzas. Phil drove, Chuck got us there, and I got us to the frozen foods. We left with three frozen pizzas (one for the freezer), a box of Coke, and a package of Oreos. So for dinner we had pizza with Coke followed by ice cream. Grandma and Chuck had coffee, with one Oreo, but Phil had mint chocolate chip, and crumbled four Oreos over it. Philip and I had more pie. Karen called with an update on their third dog, a pointer-ish mutt younger than Lark who's having a seizure phase. He's Karen's darling, and he's so upset by the seizures that she's pretty upset. So she called after dessert to say she was taking him to the vet, which was supposed to be tomorrow.  All the guys left about nine, with hugs all round. The house is pretty quiet now. Maybe I can get Philip to take me along when he takes them up on their invitations. And they say they aren't stopping by in the morning.....*whimper* Although I must say, it would be nice if the next time I see them it's one at a time. Both of them together is tricky, because of the brotherly teasing that got old about fifty years ago at the latest. You don't want to laugh, but.....you really can't help it, because they've had all that time to come up with jokes that are actually funny. Sigh. Also I haven't heard the stories very many times, and Phil tells stories well.

I want them both back already. Maybe I'm just missing boys around, but.....I don't think that's it. Part, maybe, but not all. Also they're both very huggable. Something about the shape, maybe. Sigh.

Well, Mom stayed home from church, having brought Owen's cold with her. Philip and I got there in good time, although the psalm tunes did not make me happy about this. Sigh. The sermon text was Colossians 1:3, discussing prayer and its inseparable elements, thanksgiving and petition. It was pretty good. Oh, and they had Communion today. We stayed for a bit afterwards, to talk to a few people.

After lunch, leftover chicken salad with bagels and birthday plans, Lark and I went out. We took Thursday's walk in reverse, taking the road up the mountain and going down the slope as usual. It was pretty uneventful, although Lark was perhaps a little antsy after we left the parking lot to head home.

Mom and I were down in the sitting room, having been looking at pictures, when Owen called. It was like a breath of home just listening to Mom talk to them. Peter, of course, asked after Lark, who at the time was engaged in her vendetta against the miller moths.

Had a nap, woke up for dinner. Spent the evening reading All About Aussies, until Mom handed me No Bad Dogs. It's a serious book, but it's hilarious because it's such a character study. Barbara Woodhouse is certainly the basis for Sybil Vimes' character, and her firm, no-nonsense voice pervades the book.

Two Goldendoodles

Everybody slept in 'til eight. It's cooler today, more like yesterday, when it was nice and cool until we were ready to hike, than preceding days.

We had lunch early so Grandma could take her nap. It rained the entire time we were at the table and then some. Amazing. Anyway, Grandma got a good nap, and then Diane came about one-thirty and did arm exercises with her. After she left we did some neatening up, and then the Rector came about three. I must confess to some enjoyment of having a rector visit, but he's something of a disappointment--he wouldn't even pet Lark, and when I told her to give up, he said it was fine, he'd just ignore her.........THIS MAN THINKS HE CAN IGNORE MY DOG??? Clearly he possesses a heart of stone.

Amazingly, the cool weather has held. Lark and I need to hurry up and take our walk, but I don't know how long the Rector will be here and she'll need help getting back up from the sitting-room. To top it off, I was getting the water-can for the palm down there when the doorbell rang, and if Grandma wants to see him in the sitting-room I'm not coming in with a watering-can.

Oh, help, he's interrogating Grandma about me. He's also the first person to have gotten my age right, drat him. >.> :s 

And I just realized I left the dust-rag down there. Kill me now. I'm sorry, Grandma.

I don't think she noticed, though. I doubt he did, but it's the principle of the thing.

I got punched in the stomach by a Goldendoodle. We finally got out on our walk at about four-forty, the weather holding cool and cloudy, with occasional spatters of rain. I, for a wonder, calculated my clothing right, it being pleasantly cool with a sweater on. The air nibbled gently at my face, pretending it was about to bite through my clothes but never doing so. We took the short loop around the pond and back, Lark tearing off as if by unclipping her leash I had lit a fuse. I was wondering, as we neared the end of the trail, if we weren't going to meet [i]anyone[/i] (a waste of a Heller hike, as far as I'm concerned--I need at least one dog a day!) when I heard jingling. Hopefully collars, but maybe just a bike. Lark was off in the brush, and I wondered if I'd be able to keep her out of the way of whoever impended. I caught a glimpse through the branches that suggested someone on a bike, then came clear of the trees into the creek bed and saw the surge of dogs. He wasn't on a bike, he was just tall. I called Lark, hoping I could catch her collar, but as Lark decided she needed to investigate the man called, "It's okay, they're friendly!" Well, I should hope so if you're walking them off-leash, but I gave up and watched as two dogs lolloped forward: one enormous, one Lark's size but stockier, both covered in short curls the color of pale sand. It was about then that the big one got me a full-body hit with his nose. "Oof," I gasped. "Right in the stomach!" "Are you okay?" the man asked. I reassured him, Lark having trained me in the reflexive stomach tense, and we watched the dogs swirl about. "Are they Labradoodles?" "Goldendoodles." "They're cute!" Lark was rather hard-pressed by the pair, and I picked her up. They continued on their way, and I carried her until they were out of sight......making this the third day in a row. The other two days were on Stanton, though, and this is the first day we've been here that she made it home still high. 

I had to fix dinner myself for once, never mind that it was a glorious parade of leftovers. I heard Father Paul asking Grandma if I could cook: why, yes, a little, but why cook when there's so much that needs eating up? So it was chicken and rice, set out to thaw before Lark and I went out; herb salad, which has gallantly sustained us through several meals and two rounds of sandwiches; watermelon chunks, which accompanied pork chops from the wonderful woman who gave us disposable dishes; reheated cornbread and a dinner roll; and Grandma had some blackberry (not blueberry--Grandma figured out what the stuff is) cobbler for dessert. I let Lark out during the sitting-while-Grandma-finishes-up period, and when I went to suggest she come in, the brat whirled away in a clear invitation to play. I did. Note: on a cool day, do not come back in under three hours or the dog won't stop. Wuuuuurrgh......

After dinner Grandma watched an English episode of Antiques Roadshow and I finished Cousin Kate. When it was over she had me get her into PJs and read two (admittedly short) chapters of The View From the Folding Chairs. That done I had to go look "bailiff" up in the dictionary, that being what Michala Miller is and neither of us knowing what it meant in her case. Having ascertained that she was someone who kept order in courtrooms, I was discovering that the dictionary didn't have "assinego" (Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, someone being rude, "An assinego may tutor thee," also quoted when Vincent is being rude about Claude teaching Hugo not to speak Yorkshire in The Unknown Ajax) when the phone rang. Doug was asking if there was anything more I needed in Care Package Mk. II, the first having been mailed already. It was nice talking. Heck, it's nice talking to anyone at home, or even typing. Even Philip razzing me is a nice brotherly pastime. *prays he'll miss this "detail".....unhappily doubts it* He hasn't been very bad, anyway.

Now for an hour or so pretending I'm going to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. Hey, maybe I will. Be nice, anyway.

Hey, Pete's actually been reading Beat online! I'd say this is something to gloat about! He's reading shooojooo.....when he is oooonliiine......I am so haaappyyyyyyy....'cuz he's so meeeeeeeeeeeaann.* Heh. I don't think Owen is, though. Hm.

*He has a habit of making such generalizations as "Shojo's junk." MeruPuri alone wasn't enough for a conviction. Thank you, Nakamura-sensei! You've beaten Hino-sensei! Now I just have to get Skip Beat back above Vampire Knight in the MangaFox rankings....UPDATE, FRANKY HOUSE!

Yesterday Mom stopped at the library whe she was in town for a subbing job, and she got the last three volumes of Skip Beat! published in English so far. Peter's already finished them all. Owen's working on it.

The last couple of days have been really warm. Much of the snow has melted, and there's mud everywhere. On a day like today last year, we would have taken the lambs and kids on a trip around the property. We'd have gotten muddy hoofprints on our clothes, and the babies probably would have been tired out, depending on how old they were.

Steve Wenz told Dad that he went to the sale barn, and bred ewes are going for fifty bucks a head. Dad would have sent me with B and Darrel to buy a ewe, except Mom nixed it on the grounds of having no hay money. *cries*

Peter and Owen are both reading Skip Beat. Peter is a huge victory, possibly assisted by Owen trying to dissuade him. I always kinda thought he might like it, but if I tried to feed it to him he'd have spat it out. So I refrained from shoving it in his face, and he picked it up. *is victorious* This would never have worked if I hadn't gotten the volumes from the library, and Peter weren't desperate for something to do between turns.

If I don't go upstairs now I won't wake up tomorrow. Eh.

In Colorado Springs

We got here Friday night. Baron is behaving himself fairly well. Philip took Peter to Golden with him this morning. Mom's going to have us all doing school, except that some of Peter's schoolbooks somehow got left behind.

Philip took us to Barnes & Noble and the library on Saturday, and I got Dragonhaven and Making Money, but my fifty bucks has been magically reduced to nine and some change. At the library I got a Patricia C. Wrede omnibus, Shadows Over Lyra, and a couple of Lois McMaster Bujolds. We also went to Best Buy, where I was tempted by all the anime DVDs, but I withstood, fortunately considering my current state of finance.

We stopped by B's when we left, and she has a couple of boxes of books and magazines for writers. I brought a couple of the Writer's Digests with me, and they're pretty good.

I'm at B's right now with Peter and Owen. Doug wormed out of it. B isn't very happy about us moving, and it doesn't help that Mom found out that she's been tearing Dad down to us--Owen and me. Peter and Doug aren't very satisfactory audiences. Anyway, it very nearly started a war, and we didn't come yesterday because B was sulking. So we got lots of computer time, especially Doug and me, 'cause Pete an' Ownie went to town with Mom. Mom's gonna come get us at 8:45 or thereabouts. You would not believe how slow OneManga is on B's computer. It kinda looks like Tohru is going to end up with Kyou, but we'll see. I'd kinda prefer Yuki. 57 more chapters, I think. Man, it's scary how different Momiji looks after his growth spurt. He is actually positively identifiable as a guy now. Nice change....

There's a trailer running on the Disney Channel for a movie called Sydney White. It looks like a high school retelling of Snow White, and it occurred to me: waking her up with a kiss is a waste of a first kiss. Not having seen the movie, I don't know whether it actually is the first kiss, but the question still arises.

I need to kill the boys. They've found another absolutely hilarious anime that could almost be tailored for this family, title Full Metal Panic. High schoolers again. Sousuke is this insane military genius who is also a walking arsenal. He's designed and trained for a certain environment, specifically a battlefield, and this isn't it. He has trouble wrapping his mind around this simple fact. In the first ep, there was this girl who had a crush on him, and wrote him a really soppy love note and put it in his gym locker. He noticed that the locker had been "tampered with" and blew it up, just to be safe. There was enough left of the note for him to decipher that the writer wanted to meet him behind the gym after school. Kaname, the heroine and the girl he's supposed to be protecting, suggested that it was a love note, and he said "What's that?" She stammered and didn't really answer. Anyway, what happened was that she hid behind the gym, watching the girl, until some guys came along and started roughing the first girl up. Kaname tried to help, but it didn't go so well, and then all three guys were shot with rubber bullets, and we find out that Sousuke has spent the entire afternoon behind the gym, in a ghillie suit, with face paint, covering the girl who has a crush on him. When she realized all this, she ran off crying, cured. Kaname slugged him. She does that a lot.
Owen's going to B's until sometime tomorrow. Oh, yeah, and B and Darrel are going to buy one of the hogs, which lessens the cost of slaughter enough that we're able to send them to the butcher. Finally.

I think I'm going to kill Owen. It seems that the bulb protector thingy on my ceiling fan fell down and broke because he forgot that my fan can be turned off with a switch and pulled the wrong thing or something. Man, the next time he wants something out of my room, he'd better ask.
On ep 25. Ichigo finally managed to make a spirit-shield. I'm watching subbed eps instead of dubbed. The Shinigami Captains are assembled. I've met Matsumoto and her captain, who is a silver-haired kid/"boy genius" named Hitsugaya. A few words about Matsumoto: she's blonde, and I've never seen her without some cleavage showing. 'Nuff said.
It has been explained to me about the name. Apparently what Shinigami do is purify, or clean. Bleach is one of the strongest cleaning agents around.

So now we're cleaning up the basement. Big pain. On the bright side, Mom's running errands and Dad told her on depature to get the makings of root beer floats.
Peter and Owen are both kicked off the comp for the day, oh joy oh rapture. Peter called Owen an idiot for some mild hypocrisy, and Owen retaliated by not letting Pete plug in his headphones. The fight came to Dad's ears, so now they're both off and I'm on. Lucky me.