Turkeys and Krav

The turkey chicks came this morning! Dad ordered them from Cackle Hatchery, and they're all heritage breeds, which means they're old-fashioned types in danger of dying out. Cackle Hatchery has photos of them--and ordering info--here. Eight of ours are the Red Bourbon breed, four are Black Spanish, and five are Blue Slate, though one or two of those might be Royal Palm. It's a little difficult to tell now.

We've put them in the pole-barn. Dad set up a dog run in there weeks ago, with tin sheets around the bottom to keep drafts out and chicks in. They don't work very well in either capacity, so the chicks are enclosed in the standard ring of flattened cardboard until they get too big the get through the chain-link. Yesterday Owen put a tarp over the top to keep the cats out, and removed the front of the run from where it's been serving as a gate in the larger stock-fence. So they're well established now, and I'm to check on them every hour or so today.



Last night was testing night at Krav. Mom took me, since Dad had a headache, and we got there in plenty of time. I think the taekwondo testing had been earlier in the day; the punching bags had all been moved to the edges of the mat so they no longer divided the room. Nearly everyone there was testing--I think one man, Pat, was there as an ordinary student, and everyone else was testing. Russ and Stacy were there, and Hannah, Laura, Jen, and a woman named Beth were all testing. I think I may have seen Beth last testing; she has red-gold hair in a ponytail and bangs, and is fairly high-level. There were two other people testing at my level: Stan, who partnered me; and a vaguely Asian guy built like a foothill whose name I haven't gotten yet. Mike had him do the chokes when we got to that part of the test.

I have no idea whether I passed or not. We'll find out next week whether I get my yellow sash or not. There was a depressing amount of stuff that was new, or that I hadn't done in far too long. Also Mike was testing us, after we finished with the focus mitts, and he's a bit intimidating, I guess. Very brisk. He teaches the Monday and Thursday classes, and he always starts us out with calisthenics, of which pushups are the mildest. Well, no--the jumping jacks are. I can do jumping jacks in my sleep, though I hope I never do.


Current plan of action says I'm going to Chicago with Mom and Grandma Jane. Tuesday night after Krav Dad lectured me the entire way home on how dangerous Chicago is, how evil people are, why he didn't want me to go, et cetera. Thanks, Dad. I put up with it, though, because I was only getting it because he was letting me go. Anyway, the plan is to leave around my birthday, and I think we'll stay a couple of days before Mom and I take the train home. We're drawing up a shopping list. *g*

There is one threat to my going, though: Lark's in heat. I need to be here to supervise the situation. If she doesn't go back to normal by the time we leave, I won't be able to go, because I'm abandoning her. It's to be the first time I've traveled without her since I got her, too. She's trained to think that "packing" means "road trip," not "abandonment." Well, puppy, I'm used to both meanings; you can learn 'em too.

Dachshund

Made it to church in good time, parking as the Debe's were getting out of their car. The sermon was on the nature of Christianity, with emphasis on the three aspects: faith, love and hope. The text was from Colossians 1. I thought it was very good. There were two psalms sung, fewer than usual but both with familiar tunes. The service ended with Communion. I talked to Debe girls for a bit, and then I had to say goodbye to as many friends as I could find. I didn't find as many as I could have wished, Jenna, for instance, having left; but I ran into Tava, for one, and Mr. Marble. Ben's in Wyoming, though.

Came home, had lunch, did some blogging, did some packing.

It was nice out when we larked after dinner. We ran into three women and a dachshund at the bottom of the hill on the road; Lark was wary but well-behaved until the little guy put his forepaws up against my leg. I did not, I regret to say, grab her by the scruff of her neck and shake her, which is what I need to do. It might not improve her attitude, but it would certainly convey my opinion of her behavior. Fortunately we met no one after that, although it was a pretty near thing at the pond. We turned off onto the dike before we ran into the familiar pit bull and her master.

Bad Net this evening. Philip's having trouble too.

Whew. Just managed to get up on time, then lost time calling Lark, when of course she was playing with Isaac. Also there was no paper. And my dress needed a lot of ironing. In the end, I was dressed but not combed or shod when Liz rang the doorbell--fortunately a bit early. She talked to Grandma while I finished getting ready, and then Syd and Syd brought Lark home, as she'd been playing over there. The kids were going home, so Lark had to come home too.

We got to church in time--just before the announcements began, in fact. Pretty close. Pastor Reese gave a sermon on Mortification, as the last in the series on Sanctification. It was unprepared but still good, largely based on Romans 8 and John Owen. Liz liked that Owen was named for him. :p We stayed quite a while after the service, partly so everyone could chat but mostly, I think, because Mr. Debenedittis is an elder or something and had to help close up. There was one window stuck, because the rope had been derailed and then jammed in the pulley, and everyone stood around watching Ben try to get it loose with a screwdriver while the elders/deacons offered assistance and their families offered suggestions. It was pretty funny--and I think everyone restrained themselves, more or less. I mean, we kibitzed and heckled, but nicely.

After church Liz took me to the Debes' for lunch. Shawn and Matt Stickel were there too, but a bit more familiar with the ground, as Matt is dating, or engaged to, or something, Rachel Debenedittis, and Shawn is his dad. Actually, I think they're just dating but everyone expects them to marry, including the two of them, and it's pretty freely discussed. It's all pretty nice, although at this rate when Abby, and possibly Sarah, are dating, their elder sisters will not be nice. Er, they'll be mean, but probably nicely. Oh, and besides more or less getting the order of birth down, I found out that Abby is younger than me, which was a shock. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that all her sisters are older than me, and she's a lot like them, so I assumed she was older too? They all explained it to me as the youngest trying to keep up, which does make sense, and is at the same time somewhat related to my version above presented. Anyway, we all had lunch (after they fixed it, in which process guests are not permitted) and then everybody sat and talked for awhile. And then I got scolded for trying to help clear the table, and they drafted Mr. Debenedittis, who had hitherto been sitting and talking. For which I was razzed. Sorry-! But, again, nicely. Gah. This entire family is nice, I don't know if I can handle it. Anyway, Liz took me home about three-fifteen, to my immense regret, but I knew I had to leave sometime.......That actually sounds a lot like the larger situation here, too. Hm.

And then I spent some time on the computer and it occurred to me that I could probably try for a job at, say, sheep! magazine after I graduate, thus combining the interests. Hm.

Then I spent a couple of hours reading One Foot In the Grave, a mystery by Peter Dickinson set in a nursing home. I did this outside, while Lark wandered about as she pleased and I whistled periodically to indicate that, should she be within earshot and so inclined, her return would be perfectly acceptable. Then I went inside, read some more, had something to eat, and went out to look for her. It was rather an adventure, in spite of worrying, because I've never had a real excuse to be out in the dark before. There were too many deer to count, but few enough to categorize: the doe, when it was still light enough to identify her as the sick one (unless there are rather a lot of does in bad shape about), now recovering; the buck, above me on the hill, who observed (and listened to) me calmly until I came too close, at which point he began to move away. I've noticed that even if you can't see the antlers, you can still identify a buck by the way he holds his head, balancing. It was becoming very dark when I surprised rather a herd, making them flee, one by one and then all of them, out of a thick stand of brush, dark blurs bounding through the darkness. I came to the house that overlooks the Heller road, from the balcony of which a large dog barks at us. I came down its driveway to Eagle Rock, still calling every minute or so. I had not been on the road long when Lark came bustling up, wriggling about, for once my pleasure in seeing her equal to hers in seeing me.  Grandma told me she'd dropped by the house, without coming in, then gone to find me. I'd been considering ringing doorbells--it was, after all, only nine o'clock. There was enough light to see wherever I put my feet, but little beyond.

She wanders up to me now, diffidently, wondering if she's exhausted her credit for petting; I hold a hand out, and she comes to stand next to me as I rub her side. I'm getting a headache.

Sunny and cool this morning, which meant that the cool didn't last long on our walk. It was nice in the shade, but otherwise we roasted. Met no one.

Grandma and Jinn left for bridge shortly after we got back from the walk. Got some laundry done, did some computing, had lunch. Then called Syd to ask if she wanted to go to the library. She did! Yay! So we went to the library, and for once I had more unread checkouts than rereads. Wow. Found a Caroline Stevermer (necessitating an expedition into the teen section, which was crowded--a little easier that way) and a Peter Dickinson mystery. I had to restrain myself from checking out the Stevermers that I have waiting for me, in omnibus form, at home, but in the end restraint triumphed. Besides, I got plenty else--although not the Bujold I've been trying to get five weeks running. Sigh. I should have taken Syd up on the offer to go to Penrose....oh well. I got plenty, anyway. More or less spent the rest of the afternoon reading.

Dinner was late, and our walk short. It was almost dark, but I could see three boys sitting in the pine just before the Heller gate. Lark wanted to ask them what they were doing, but I talked her out of it. Otherwise there was no one out. We didn't go the full way, only a little along the road, and then I decided to go some distance down the road to Nevada. I've tried this before, only Lark stopped and wouldn't go any further, while looking at me as though I were crazy. Well, we got a little farther this time. Then she stopped. Sigh. So I came back, and we went home. And I have a headache.

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, pughuahua?

Finished Three Came Home last night. Oops. Hadn't meant to do that. Oh well.....

Spent some time petting the cat, whose people should be returning today. Maybe I should call Brook and ask when.... 

Larked in good time, with the air still nice and cool. Met an elderly lady and her elderly Golden at the gate--Lark growled at him for coming too close to me.....this really is not good. Oh, and we saw a weasel; which is to say, Lark saw it and jumped, and then a couple seconds later I saw it about fifteen feet up a tree. Heh. It was a sort of reddish brown, with a pale grey underside. Yay new wildlife! Anyway, he looked pretty much like the top picture on this page. Although I have to say I don't think I've ever heard that version of "Pop! goes the weasel" before.....

Ah, and there was some sort of big truck, of the utilities variety, at the Heller Center. We were almost to the trail when he drove out, and I grabbed Lark's collar and got us there while the driver waited. Mm. Met another older lady out on the trail, then didn't see anyone until we got home. And we keep coming home when it's (objectively) still cool out, so no swamp cooler....

Quiet afternoon. Found an Ogden Nash collection and Kate Greenaway's Language of Flowers, printed in 1879 but all the young ladies in the illustrations are wearing Regency styles. Also it vindicates my side of the argument about flower languages: Mom says authors just make it all up as they go, with which I disagree. And here's this. Muahaha.

Philip got in as I was getting the mail while hoping the rice would dry out a bit. Last night's was some of the worst fried rice I have ever produced. Sigh. We ate it, though. With watermelon afterwards. I was about to take Lark out afterwards when Syd got home and came over, with a couple of granddaughters in tow--I assume they'd come with their mother to get Syd and Ralph from the airport. Lark, who was already excited about going for a walk, absolutely exploded. It was like when you blow up a balloon and then let it loose to zip around. Lol. Oh, and I got paid.....too much, but I'm not going to complain.

After that we larked. Philip had a movie scheduled close to eight, but we had plenty of time--I think it was about seven when we got home. In the meantime, it began to rain lightly shortly after we got out. We met a couple people--more than on a hot day--a woman with a dog, which looked very much like a cross between a pug and a chihuahua. Lark was a bit aggressive--he yelped, I grabbed her, they departed, I gave her a talking-to. For all the difference it's likely to make. Geh. Later there was a young guy out jogging, too--pretty cute, in a bland kind of way. It rained the entire time we were out.

We got home and Philip told me I ad to be ready to go in fifteen minutes. We were going to see Moon, which was only showing downtown and therefore required time to get there. Philip, please note, got into the shower only after I got home, and could reasonably be expected to use the bathroom. I ended up getting dressed in the studio, as soon as he was firmly in the shower.

Moon is suspense and sci-fi, with some mystery and a bit of psychological, I guess. Not my thing on so many levels, but I suppose it was a good movie. Pretty open-ended, but at the same time it doesn't feel like the answers to those questions would really fit. He goes back to Earth, and that's it? Well, no, but that's a story for another day--maybe. For our imaginations, maybe.

We got home about ten, and Philip promptly hooked the laptop up to the TV for another episode of Castle. I think the plot was a bit better in this one; in the last one, with our mystery writer tagging along with the cop the entire point of the plot was that it be something a mystery writer could predict, and therefore, it follows, a reader too. At least if you've read as many of the greats as I have, the writers who created these plots and cliches. Anyway, episode 2 was a bit less predictable, and our novelist shines slightly less in the revelation of plot points; this one took him by surprise, too. We are, however, discovering more about our lovely cop, although I object rather to having it laid out clearly for more obtuse viewers on Castle's laptop, as it is likewise revealed about the character in his new series, the ostensible reason for his tagging along behind Beckett on her cases. Besides the Mayor's being a fan, anyway--the man has fans everywhere, and uses them to a disgusting but expediting degree.

Incline tomorrow--so not prepared in any way, shape, or form.....

Big brown mix with black shading again

Up a bit late. The cat was glad to see me. Had to spray some ants--Syd left the can out, with the request to use it if necessary. There were more this afternoon, this time focussing on the food dish rather than the counter. Sprayed those too. Syd's coming home tomorrow--and everything's still alive....(To "everything's" Spellcheck says: "Are you sure about that?" Yes, thank you.)

An uneventful morning walk. It was sunny out, although not, technically, hot, and nobody else was out. Phooey. I'd been hoping for the lady and the Golden, at least. I like 'em. Lark disapproves of Jackson, though. "Get away from her!" she says when I pet him. Sigh. I'm not sure whether to call this an advance in our relationship or not, but either way I disapprove. Gonna have to figure out what to do about it--she can't just tell me not to pet other dogs; I mean, she talks to other people.....I'm sorry, dear, petting is not an exclusive part of a relationship any more than conversation. Live with it.

Ended up not getting on the comp 'til after three, with one thing and another. I regretted the delay once I got on--Doug had been on all morning, talking into thin air. Oops. He seems to be into Russian Novelists at the moment: having cut a swathe through Solzhenitsyn, he's now reading Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky. None of these names are acknowledged as legit by Spellcheck--so helpful....

Clouded up by dinnertime, with rain threatening by the time we larked. We met the iPod-bearing jogger with the big brown mix again; he doesn't leash his dog, but always reaches for his collar when he sees us. Last time we ran into him, we were in his blind spot, coming down the creek bed as he came down the main path; he stopped and grabbed for his (obediently heeling) dog as soon as he was aware. I think I disapprove of earbuds while out: there's so much else to pay attention to, and in the end it's rather a liability. Perhaps a sturdy man in good shape, accompanied by a large dog, doesn't need to be quite so alert as a woman whose dog is as petite as she is, but it's always good to be aware of what's going on around you. We also met the Asian/Caucasian couple, who I begin to suspect go on walks for Serious Discussions. That's what it's always sounded like as I approach, although I'm glad to say not too serious. It may just be the natural tendency of his voice to sound like he's talking about something important, though. I don't know. I have every expectation that this will remain the case, nor would I want it otherwise. One family's problems are enough.

Reading Three Came Home. I wasn't at all sure I wanted to read a prison camp book just now, but Keith has a terrific style of her own, amusing and serious in turns, and very sympathetic. I can't find Mom's other recommendation, Christ Stopped at Eboli, but I did find Wuthering Heights. It's on the table for consideration, while I read Three Came Home. I am not at all sure I want to start reading the darker/crazier English classics--Grandma and I were talking about Thomas Hardy at dinner--but I've been thinking about it, and will no doubt continue to do so. A book about three men making sheep's eyes at an ice queen fails to attract me, large supporting cast of actual sheep notwithstanding.

15 pushups, form improving; 16 situps, having realized how pointless it is to continue after my abs have quit and left all the work to back and (somehow) shoulders; 5 standing elbow-to-knees; 3......a bit like an arabesque but I'm holding the outstretched leg at the ankle. All of which are no doubt very good for me, but they don't seem to do much for the Incline-afflicted muscles. Hm.

Well, I wasn't as sore this morning as I had expected. I did not, for one thing, want to scream until I actually stood up. And it was only really bad when I took stairs. Yeowch. Nonetheless, I bestirred myself, since Philip gave me fifteen minutes (from the middle of breakfast) to use the bathroom before he needed it. I was finished in plenty of time and heading over to the Seamans' before he was out of bed. Maddie was extremely glad to see me, the door to the master bedroom having blown shut again, this time with her outside. Her food, water, and litterbox are all in the master bathroom. You see the problem. She wolfed her gooshyfood, then galloped 'round to check if I'd opened the door yet. I had, and she ran for the litterbox.

That taken care of, I came home to find Philip getting into the shower. We got out the door at nine-thirty precisely, and made it to church with a couple of minutes to spare. The preacher was a guest, an enthusiastic man with a neat white beard, with "Christ is the King" as his topic. The text was from I Corinthians, with points from throughout the Scriptures. The sermon didn't really have much in the way of a planned outline that I could hear, and there certainly wasn't one on the back of the bulletin, but it wasn't a bad sermon. And one of the psalms was to a tune I knew, which happens about once every two weeks if I'm very lucky.

Afterwards Mrs. Kleinbeart had some questions about homeschooling, having done some with her children, and then I went and talked to Jenna while Philip chatted with a girl I don't know. They were plotting a fourteener once I leave. Sigh. Oh, and the camping trip is cancelled. Logistical difficulties, apparently. And Philip is planning to take me home the first week in August. Sigh. Well, I suppose I have a lot to catch up on.....including Lark's relationship with the stock. Will her increased obedience level go straight down the tubes with the first glimpse she catches of an airbrained ewe lamb? We'll see.

I decided it was time to go for a walk around two, precisely timed for the rain to start once we were fairly out. I decided to keep going, as it wasn't very heavy; it wasn't until the rain began more heavily, and Lark began giving me looks expressive of the opinion that this was stupid, why didn't I do something about this stuff hitting her on the head, that we turned back. In good time; for the thunder became serious as we headed for home, and once there was a crack of lightning directly above me that seriously scared me. We went for home at a smart pace, with a pause at the gate as I waited for some thunder to subside before I touched the metal. I have no idea if this precaution was actually worth anything or not; I was, however, quite certain that I did not wish to touch a tall metal gate, at all. It was a compromise. We reached the house with no mishaps, at least, and Lark submitted to toweling with slightly more docility than usual, which is to say she didn't gnaw on me very much. I hung my clothes up to dry and sat down with Maurois' Disraeli. It's extremely absorbing, and leads me to wonder if any of Maurois' other biographies are available in English.

Philip left for Golden while Grandma and I were having dessert, after suggesting some rather convoluted plans for the schedule next week. I think he said something about coming down Wednesday for both mental and physical torments, namely, the Incline and some SAT math. He would then go back to Golden on Friday, coming back....I'm not sure when. Before Wednesday again, I imagine.

Finished Disraeli before bed.

15 pushups, about 16 situps. Decided there was no point continuing after my abs quit--I'm not doing this just to bust my back and (somehow) shoulders.....

B's birthday present came last night! She asked me what I wanted months ago, the last time I came over before coming out, and I told her I'd like Emmylou Harris CD's. This, of course, sent her off into a tangent about country music and singers, but she didn't forget. Last night, when I checked the mail, there was a parcel in the mailbox. She sent me the Warner|Reprise Years Anthology. I promptly sat down and wrote a thank-you note, stifling the instinct to send it to Mom first for inspection, and am now wondering if maybe she wouldn't appreciate a phone call more. Being B, she probably would. Sigh. Anyway, it was something nice to listen to as I lay awake until three a.m., trying to fall asleep. 

Larked about nine-thirty this morning, after letting Lee in. It wasn't too hot when we started, and there were a lot of people out. Actually there were only two groups and no solitaries (or dogs), but the first was some sort of tour group of at least half a dozen people. I disengaged as soon as possible. This took some jogging, since I had to get far enough that Lark wouldn't be constantly running over to visit. The second group was much smaller, and consisted of a couple and their grandsons, having a small Cheerio-based picnic in the creek bed, between the crossing of the wide trail and the tributary where the smaller trail joins it. Lark was delighted to make their acquaintance. 

About one-forty-five Jackie from JJ Caulking came. She had an appointment, to discuss painting the house with Grandma, but I think she was a little early. Anyway, she brought her granddaughter along: Patricia, very stylish in a cute kind of way, and thirteen, which I would never have guessed. She looked about my age. They were both on the short side, very dark, but Patricia was pretty quiet. We were kinda....."What do I say? What do I say?" There wasn't a whole lot of conversation on the couch. Fortunately Lark always gives me a method of ignoring awkwardness, by petting her, but......it's not ideal. It's still awkward. She just lets me pretend I don't care. Not. Ideal. Sigh.

Phil came in.....actually, I don't know when. Couple hours before dinner, I guess. Which we prepared jointly. Larked about seven; met those boys and their grandpa, with the addition of their dad, launching a raft on the pond back there.  It was a pretty good raft, actually.

Called B to thank her for the CD's. Now to get the letter mailed...

Watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a lot better than I expected, and then some. Meryl Streep was awesome. Seriously, working under her would be worth it just for the education in verbal style. The character has a fantastically devastating way with words. If the author had as much a part in creating that character as Meryl Streep did, I am reading all her books. I mean, Miranda's the female edition of Havelock Vetinari!

Twenty pushups on easy. Got up to write it down, and Lark promptly lay down in the position best calculated to block situps, which were next. Did twenty-five, after she was moved.

Schnauzer, pit bull

Eventually dragged out of bed. At least my knee scabbed over--I skinned it last night on the stairs outside, which is ridiculous. Also, if Lark is going to make a habit off running over behind Myrdice's to bark at distant threats to the homestead, I am going to start taking her out last thing on a leash. I don't care if she comes back promptly or not, this is ridiculous. And unacceptable, did I mention that? Unacceptable. Unfortunately I'm not sure she knew why I was mad. She should know, at least, that she's not supposed to cross the road, but.....

We went out at about eight-forty-five. It was beginning to heat up but wasn't too bad, but by the time we got home, after an uneventful walk around the loop, it was hot enough. Somebody was weed-eating in the yard at the green house. A woman walking a schnauzer beat us out the gate. Nothing else to report. Hot....

It occurred to me that Whit, from The Sharing Knife, has a lot in common with Peter. Hm.

Read, did my schoolwork, fell asleep. Quiet afternoon.

Was unusually hungry at dinner....ate a lot, then had to convince my stomach that it ought to be full capacity by now. It shut up eventually, but I hope this isn't going to become a common occurrence.

I'm not sure what time we went for a walk, except that Antiques Roadshow was on. I do know it was eight when we finished talking to the middle-aged guy with a very well-mannered pit bull at the gate. He leashed her, because sometimes she does fight--she had a gash on her leg stapled because of another pit down on the road from Heller to Nevada--but she sat, and then lay down, quietly while we talked. He also asked if the older guy walking an Aussie he'd seen before had been my dad, but no. Also the dog was twelve, he said. I'd like to meet that pair sometime. Anyway, we talked for quite awhile, mainly about pits. But we parted eventually. I was surprised and a little amused to see a new sign at the trailhead: below "NO MOTORIZED VEHICLES" is a shiny new sign: "DEALING WITH URBAN WILDLIFE-- This is a natural area. There may be rattlesnakes. Please stay on the trail." Wasn't there this morning. I wonder if it has anything to do with the snake the Seamans' neighbors found? Anyway, we made the circuit, getting home after eight-thirty but before dark.

I skipped pushups to see how far I could get with the situps, but I only made twenty-five. -_-;

Wolves

Well, got up at six-thirty, after going to bed some time after midnight, in order to go to Denver to take Mom to the airport. I slept in the car the whole way, which helped. After dropping Mom at the airport, Philip and I went to Mimi's, where he had breakfast. This one was a lot nicer than the Springs one. I'd already eaten and was still full, so I had strawberry lemonade. Very strong stuff. Anyway, fortunately I'd brought a Mrs. Pollifax in my purse, so I read while he ate.

After breakfast we went to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. They have an incredible number of animal dioramas, from manatees, kangaroos, wolves and deer to entelodonts and some sort of antelope creature. That was the Nebraska Woodland diorama in the dinosaur exhibit. The entelodont wasn't as colorfully ugly as the Walking With Prehistoric Beasts version--it was more drab, and while still ugly, less menacing. Philip and I discussed it and decided the best place to attack, if you were fighting the thing with a knife, would be the eye. Philip suggested the nose, too, but he was thinking for off scaring it off than killing it. It made me think of the beast Lissar and the dogs killed the night she was searching for the lost child. They had some pretty good casts of dinosaur skeletons, plus a few dioramas. There was one of a couple of Stygimoloch fighting--a type of pachycephalosaur, so they were fighting like bighorn sheep. Oh, and they had a Diplodocus cast. Nice. :D

We got home about one-thirty or so. It promptly started to rain, and we composed a shopping list until it stopped. Then we went to King Soopers. Philip took me to the library, too, where the only one of the three Sharing Knife books there Thursday was Passage. Feh. Well, thanks, big brother. I just wish I'd thought of it about an hour earlier than I did....of course, then someone would be cursing me. Hm. I wonder if I care?

We got home from grocery shopping and crashed. Grandma had to wake us up to make dinner. Lark helped her with me by climbing onto my stomach. I was more or less awake, if not alive, in time to slice onions and pickles for the bisonburgers without cutting off a finger, anyway.

As soon as the dishes were in the dishwasher I started booting up for a lark. We left at maybe ten to eight, and made the entire circuit before dark. It was close, but we made it in at eight-thirty. It was really nice out, too, after that rain: the creek was running, higher up; the air was cool, and filled with the smell of wet earth and vegetation; and, oh, the mosquitoes were out. Oops. I don't think I have any bites, though.

So Lark and I got a good walk in, but I think after the amount of sleep we both got today we'll be awake kinda late. Uh-oh. Well, if we don't watch MiB II I have plenty to read.

Read Dave Barry Does Japan, which while not actually a total waste of the money then made me wonder why the heck I had Dave Barry but not Amy Steinberger's Japan Ai, which is much more in tune to my interests, besides having great drawings and a complete lack of humorous artistic license. Gonna have to work on that, I suppose.

Fifteen pushups with a break in the middle; twenty situps nonstop. Went to bed much too late, but at least I got to sleep quickly, even after the long nap.

Golden retriever, beagle, black lab, dachshund, chihuahua pug, two Great Danes

Lark and I took a short walk at nine-fifteen, when it was still nice and cool. The lawnmower guy saw us and waved. On the way back we met a dog who was probably the result of an affair between a golden retriever and a bear. I mean, he moved like a bear, he was really big and really furry. The impression was of a golden bear. He was really nice, though, and friendly, although I regret to say he was also one of those dogs that just straight up shoves his nose up between your legs. I'm not sure the owners can tell I notice, though. Anyway, Lark liked him too; I think she was going to elope with him, but she came back in the end.

As soon as I got home I changed for town. We had to go with Grandma to choose frames and decide how she wanted her lenses. They had some really nice frames, but I'm inclined to think the ones I have suit me best after all. After that we went to the bank, and we're going to the library after Grandma has her nap.

Grandma decided she didn't want to go, so it was just Mom and me. We went to East first, and I got Memory and Cotillion to reread. They didn't have the last Bujold, but Rockrimmon branch did, so we went there. :D Horizon, I think this one is.

I was reading Horizon when Sid called to say that Sidney was over, and did I want to come play? Sure. So I came over and played from four-thirty to five-thirty, and then went home for dinner and to ask if I could go to Isaac's ballgame. I could. So I went back over at six-thirty, and Sid and Sidney and I went to watch the game. The players were pretty good. I was impressed by the adults' catching skills. Lots of people brought dogs, too. There was a beagle, which I would have talked to but it was about to throw up on someone's sandaled feet; an aging lab, who was delighted to have his ribs scratched; a dachshund, who figured out that I would rub her tummy and keep the little boy at the other end from pulling her lead (dragon versus tiger, anyone?); a black pug, whom I never went to pet; and two black Danes being walked past on the footpath. Sigh. They found a chihuahua willing to play, though. It was kinda hilarious. Oh, and someone in the stands had a chihuahua. Pink accessories. I fell into conversation with a little girl petting Ginger the dachshund with me. I think she had something to say about chihuahuas. It may come as no surprise that I have no idea who won. I do know that Isaac got the MVP ball until the next game. He's a pretty good catcher. Sid took me to play in the park in the last inning, having been lobbying for it since before the game started. She had to show off her "big kid" friend to her other friends, you see. Ashley wasn't too interested, but I think she softened up after I was allowed to actually say hi. Anyway, after the game ended she and Isaac had me play Lava Monster with them. It was Isaac's idea, because it involves him taunting me from a strong position while I try to get him. I'm not allowed to come up on the playset to tag them, and it's not hard to stay out of reach. I ended up enlisting Sidney's help, but keeping her on my shoulders was harder than climbing up on the outside, and either way Isaac's faster. We did end up tagging him (mostly ignoring the little girl he got to join in, who I'm not sure actually understood our fast English), but then it got harder, because he wanted me to stay on the ground and help him, while Sidney wanted to stay with me. I was saved by the bell, in the end. Sid and Brooke came to say it was time to go. It was dark and raining when I got home, after a fun couple of hours.

Husky/Sheltie, golden, dachshund

Larked at ten to nine. It was much too hot by the time we got home. We met the Husky/sheltie again, though. Her mistress asked if Grandma had kicked me out early again. Yeah, kinda, except it isn't even early anymore. Legacy thought she had to protect her mistress from Lark. Yeesh, and my dog hasn't even realized I need protecting from anything. Possibly just as well......

Started a series I've had on the wishlist for months. Watashitachi no Shiawasena Jikan, Our Happy Hours, is a manga adaptation of a Korean novel, with Sahara Mizu in charge. I've always liked Sahara Mizu; her works leave me with an indescribable feeling, a sort of disturbed peace. This one is no exception. It's the story of a young woman who doesn't play the piano any more and a young man on death row. As they open up to each other, we learn their stories, feeling their pain as they feel one another's. And as they teach each other to find meaning in life again, these two people, who have both tried to commit suicide several times, learn to hope--and to fear. There's one more chapter untranslated in the series, and it'll probably be a couple weeks before they release it.

Sahara Mizu is the only mangaka whose multiple tragedies I'll read, knowing for certain that they are tragic. --What is that word?It's a strange word.....What are its parts, how do they fit together? Maybe it's Greek.... Excuse me a moment...........Hm. Apparently the unreadable Greek root meant "goat-song." Latin derived from it "tragaedia," which came to Old French as "tragedie." Should've seen that coming.

I was reading Hourou Musuko by the time the man came to work on the swamp cooler. Patrick is a middle-aged Japanese man, shorter than I am, and he said the cooler has a bearings problem, which he will fix tomorrow. Right. Okay.

Mike came by after three to talk to Grandma. She brought one of the watermelons Grandma likes, Dulcinea from Safeway. I balled it for a watermelon salad, like the other night's. Mom got here about five, in time for dinner, and there was enough time for me to take Lark for a quick run before that--with the result that I was extra hungry, of course. 

We larked again at eight. Saw a woman out biking, who passed us quickly. Lark followed her, though, and when she was getting out of sight at the bend in the end of the slope I started to jog. Just as well, too--she'd met up with a dog. He was this little, hilariously round black and red dachshund. His people were on the turnoff to Nevada, with a golden wondering if he wanted to come over too. In the end, the dachshund went back to them, and they talked the goldie into coming while I told Lark she didn't need to go over. We, again, didn't even go all the way along the first leg. It was really buggy, and I had to have us back before dark. There was a young red buck feeding in the willows on the way back. He watched us suspiciously, not bolting even when Lark galloped past. I love it when the deer just watch....

Fifteen pushups again, no breaks, urgh. Twenty situps--getting easier. I have to take a break after the pushups or I don't make any progress with the situps, though.

They were playing Dvorak's New World Symphony when I went to bed. I lay awake listening trying to figure out what it was--my first guess had been Dvorak, but then there was plenty of time for second-guessing before the ninth movement, which is the bit I know really well--and then I think as soon as it got to the ninth movement and I went, "Oh, so it was Dvorak," and relaxed, I went to sleep. Oh well.

Husky puppy, Maltese

Gurgh. I've only been reading this manga for two days, and I'm having dreams about it. Abnormally fast results, those. I woke up at three a.m. from one and lay awake for several minutes convincing myself that those shadows weren't ghosts. Sigh. The subconscious is a terrible thing. I don't know whether they were the ones from Ghost Hunt or not, but at least there were some nice characters in my dreams.

At nine o'clock, after letting Lee in, I went over to Sid's to return her milk and get paid. I ended up staying for an hour, with the result that I went home about the time I should've gotten home from walking the dog. By the time Jinn came to take Grandma to the eye-doctor and we got going, it was pretty hot. We took the usual way through the Heller estate, where, by the way, there was still a big scuffed place in the path. I went ahead and wrote "AKUMETSU" with the edge of my boot. We continued up past the pond. I decided on the spur of the moment that we'd take the residential way home. I hate it when I do this, because it always means I have no water, and spend the entire way wondering if Lark's going to be okay. I also ended up worrying about myself for a bit, which is rare because I don't get as hot as Lark does, but I was fine after a house with a spigot on the front and no ground-level windows. The lawn was so soggy it squished, so I didn't even feel very guilty. That didn't help Lark, though, because there was nothing for her to drink from. I think I'm going to start carrying a plastic bag to line my hat for her. A couple puddles tided her over until we hit the drainage below the dorms. There was a very big puddle in the bottom of the depression there. I sat on the dike plotting our advance while Lark splashed around, attacking the columns she produced and ending by tearing around in circles through the water--which may have been three to six inches at the deepest point. Our course was originally set for the Pole's driveway, at the closest point. This course was rendered inadvisable by the presence of a woman on the balcony, having a deep discussion on the telephone. I did not think she would be happy to meet me, so we went along the outside of the fence until the pines blocked her view. I should perhaps add that I don't think she ever noticed us. Anyway, we ended up going along below the curve of the rise until we were in the next neighbor's yard. Lark led the way, being familiar with the territory, until I decided we could get up to the drive. We followed it home and came in across the lawn. Interestingly, I think it took less than an hour and a half--even with the boots' weight, I'm still covering ground substantially faster than I was. Interesting.

Oh. Yeah. And we met a woman with the most adorable little husky on a leash. I think she's trying to train him not to pull while he's still small--good luck to her. He had really soft fur, though, and blue eyes. His ears were the best, though. It was like a cross between a rabbit and a mule. The effect was adorable. He realized shortly that Lark had possibilities, but when he stood up against the collar, waving his forepaws at her, she backed out of reach and watched him suspiciously. I took ourselves off.

Finished Ghost Hunter. Somebody made a comment about Bara no Tame ni that I didn't remember happening, and I started thinking about it....so now I'm rereading that. Better hope I don't end up rereading Berserk. 

Lark and I went for our walk at about seven-twenty. We met the lady from next door to the Seamans, Donnice (sp?), out walking their Maltese. Telling Grandma about it, she said, "Yes, Donnice is cute."   ........Okay. Anyway, it was nice and cool, but buggy, so I let my hair down. I think I lost two Apparent Maturity levels and gained three Apparent Weirdness levels, but hey, I also gained five Pest Repellant levels, so it was worth it all the way. Besides, I only saw two people on the way home--Ralph Seaman was talking to someone in an SUV. Oh well.

"Brianstorm" by the Arctic Monkeys had me humming a bit from the Weird Al AMV for most of the walk. =_= Dan dan, dudadudadudadudadu dan dan..... never mind.

Fifteen pushups, lower and harder than usual. Broke once or twice, no pattern. Fifteen situps, could probably start doing more if I didn't do 'em right after pushups.

Husky/Sheltie

Bleh. Zombie blobs. I spent most of the dream waiting for everybody to be dead at the end. I think most of us were still alive when I woke up, though. It was all kinda weird, anyway....

We went for a walk about nine this morning. It was much too hot. We met one person, a man, with a familiar husky-sheltie in tow. Oh, and a man on a bicycle. Otherwise all sightings were at a distance. I think I should've gotten a boonie hat while I was at the army surplus. The hat I'm borrowing from the Seamans is nice, a good, natural color that doesn't jump out, but I'm gonna have to give it back eventually. Also boonie hats are crushable, so when I'm not wearing it it can just go in my pocket like everything else. I'll just carry a red scarf or something in my pocket in case I need to be visible for, say, a medical helicopter. Spellcheck, by the way, acknowledges "boonies" but not "boonie." Pft.

After I got home and recharged, Grandma had me do the kitchen floor. That was okay. Then I had to do the greenhouse. Geh. It is impossible to get the dog hair out of there enough to even half ignore it while scrubbing. I want my vacuum! 

Sid came just as I was starting in the greenhouse to discuss me looking after Maddy while they're gone. I have to go give her a little canned catfood and make sure she's alive Friday night, Saturday morning and evening, and Sunday morning. Well, sure, I can do that. For ten bucks. Seems reasonable. A day.  .........!!!!  Sid said if I felt like it was too much, I could go over there and read or something to keep her company a little. ............I'm getting my revenge by sending her pictures of adorable Craigslist dogs. Or expressing my gratitude, I don't know. I'm sending her ads, anyway.

Incidentally, I have got to remember that the clothing biases are completely different here. B would wince at the brown army t-shirt with the hemmed BDU shorts. Sid and Grandma say I look cute. -_-; Well, thanks, but.....it's very disconcerting. Not least because that's definitely not how it's designed to look. Not that I expect to look intimidating, but.....how about utilitarian?

Started Mistress to an Age before lunch. Finished the first chapter, plus all the prefaces, by the time Grandma said it was lunchtime.

There are six ads for Rottweiler puppies in the newspaper, plus one for a brindle male Rottweiler/mastiff puppy (tail docked) for....wait for it....$500. Plus various puppies and mixes (there were rottie/bloodhounds posted today) on Craigslist. Dad should come out here for a month or so. I'm sure Rick knows somebody he could stay with.

Jinn came by with some shopping commissions from the Sunshine Market and a negative review of the place. "It's overrated," she said, giving us a bag of cherries, cartons of blueberries and blackberries, and some lobster tails. Lark was delighted to see her. On a related note, I need to start letting her out more during the day. Actually, she's tied out right now, but that's due to trouble on the other end: some kibble got caught in her throat, and by the time she coughed it up, her gag reflex was thoroughly engaged an she couldn't stop throwing up. It improved somewhat after I put her out, but she's still retching a little, occasionally. It's raining now, though, so I'd better go let her in.

Grandma's wandering around without her cane. I think I'm going to have a heart attack.

It's four-thirty and raining buckets. With wind. And big fat drops. The windows are all shut and I can still smell the rain.

Dinner was the lobster tails. They were delicious. Grandma boiled them and served them with melted butter, and they were great. Note to self: when interested in a guy, try the Lobster Test: does he mind paying an arm and a leg? (You can skip this one. Split the cost or buy them yourself for dinner at home.) Do either of you mind watching the sort of messy eating lobster entails? How resourceful is he in figuring out how to eat the stupid things? I look forward to such an excuse. Lobster has a purpose! Yay! (Besides the physical and intellectual workout, of course.)

We larked a little after seven. The rain had mostly stopped, confining itself to a sporadic misting drizzle. It was cool out, and I wore a hoodie and my boots--which, naturally, turned out to be useless against tall wet grass. What astonished me was that the creek was running. Not all the way to the crossing, but there were signs--dried foam--and runnels, from earlier. Higher up it was going strong. It was noisy up at the culvert, where crossing the rocks was like walking over a symphony of water, possibly by Stravinsky. It began to rain as we came back up the Heller road, leaving me unsurprised that we met no one until Eagle Rock. A woman from the big house on the Circle was coming down from getting the mail. Lark was suspicious, but she wriggled up once we got closer. We cleared off when she almost pawed the woman's skirt. I went over later, after putting out the trash, to ask her if she wanted her trash hauled out; she was weeding the marigolds, and explained, through a thick accent, that her husband took it out every day--I'm not sure where: the noun was too accented. The people living there are widely said to be the parents of the Pole on the hill; nobody talks to them much, but Maria is thought to do for them. Possibly. It feels like a victory, though: contact made! I've been eyeing her for a while, you see.....

Golden retriever and Border collie, ewok-teddybear

Took forever to go to sleep.....and then Grandma got me up before seven-thirty. Come on, Grandma, Lee isn't coming until nine! And it was an interesting dream! Although I wouldn't want to be the hero. Perpetual festering wounds aren't funny. I would have liked to watch his friend finish yelling at him, though......Five more minutes?

Well, at nine-twenty Grandma went and looked at the calendar, which said Lee isn't coming until tomorrow. By that time I had about forty minutes to walk the dog in, so we bolted. I wasn't sure we could make the whole circuit before ten, so we just did the first leg, and I jogged and ran a lot. There was a little traffic tangle a little way along on the way back from the watering hole; Lark was lagging behind a bit, and I stopped to wait for her to catch up. A lady on a bike came on, and she had almost passed me when I heard a woman's voice calling a dog. Oops. So I let her pass, and then I started running for Lark. When I came into sight, she was at a bend in the trail, engaging in wary incivilities with a familiar-looking Border collie. Where were the woman and the golden? Around the bend in the trail, with another girl, rather younger. So I said hi to everyone, in varying tones and enthusiasm levels (with Lark lowest), and the woman said, "I think we've seen you before." "Yeah," I said, "couple days ago." Having petted the golden, I decided I'd better extricate us. So I started out running, calling Lark very firmly and wishing the idiot collie would quit chasing us. It did, very shortly, but I ran for a good while. I'd decided, a few days ago, that my body wasn't being challenged much by walking anymore, and I need to run more. But the incentive to run, when it's really hot and you want to have some energy left to get home with, is pretty low. So today, with the deadline for getting home and the canine imbroglio, was a good day.

So Grandma told me Sid called while I was gone. Did I mention that last night, just as she was coming in from Last Call, Lark got kinda woofy and Intruder! Intruder!-ish? Yeah. And again at twelve-thirty, while I was trying to go to sleep. She woke Grandma, too, just in time to hear the Rockies lose in the thirteenth inning. So that was our angle. Sid called to say that they had a bear visit last night and tear the trash apart. Meep. Actually, she also said that they're going camping this weekend and want me to take care of Maddy, but I still need to talk to her about it. (And say, Yes! I'd love to! Where's the cat food!)

So Grandma told me about the camping while we were in the car, with Jinn, going to the bridge luncheon. It was really nice. They had it at Joan's, because Norma's kitchen is a disaster zone with remodeling, but Norma still kinda presided. Harriet was there, with pictures of the Ethiopian twins her daughter is trying to adopt after, what, six miscarriages? So their one little boy will have little sisters. Also Grandma told her about Mom having all of us after her various miscarriages, which is to say there's still hope, so who knows, there could be more. So with Jinn and Grandma there were five, and they had a little game of bridge while Joan cleaned up. I, fortunately, had Barrayar in my purse, having contemplated the possibility of this eventuality. It was really fun talking to them over lunch, though, which was a variety of chicken salad (with palm and artichoke hearts) followed by lemon cream pie. It was all delicious. Joan sent the salad home with us. Wait, was it Norma's salad? I think so. Anyway, that's dinner. So Jinn brought us home, all speculating on the species of the bright yellow flowers covering the hill behind Joan's house. It's a lovely and eye-catching effect.

Read Barrayar while Grandma napped, and then it was time for Anti-Dog-Hair Measures, i.e. brushing and sweeping things.

Two sets of five pushups while waiting for pasta to boil for dinner. Kind of hard by the second set, but not too bad.

Took Lark for a run after dinner, from about eight to eight-thirty. It was really nice out: cool, with a pleasant nip to the arms and legs without being cool enough to bite. We met a family of four toiling up the Heller road: boy on bike, a couple years younger than me, toiling along at the laboriously slow pace of one who has to wait for everyone else; sister, maybe older; mom; and dad, with dog on leash. It was a very small dog, of uncertain breed, but it looked rather like the dog in the "When teddy bears and ewoks breed" lol. Lark got along with him quite well. We went perhaps two-thirds of the way to the end of the first leg, then turned back. I jogged in prolonged spurts. The family had still gotten a surprisingly little way past the creek crossing when I met them again. This time the boy stopped to respond to Lark's advances, which infallibly gets a rather warmer smile and hello from me than ignoring her, or merely saying hi and passing on, does.

I've been jogging more, since walking doesn't challenge my body enough unless I go farther than I have time for. What I've been wondering is whether it might not be a better idea to walk with weights instead--carry my backpack, put some books (although I'd hate to put books to such a use--maybe I can find something else) or something in it. Jog when I've gotten somewhere with that, maybe. It's something to think about, at least, and if I want to adventure I'd better be able to shape up to carrying things. Even if I don't adventure, it's always nice to know one's in shape if one does, by chance, have something interesting happen.

see more dog and puppy pictures

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.

Six greyhounds and an Anatolian Shepherd

So it's eleven-thirty at night, I'm trying to go to sleep, and this ridiculous dog is dropping a tennis ball in my face, having been trying to push it ever since we came in from Last Outing. Sheesh.

Philip and I did the shopping this morning, getting home about eleven. He bought two tickets to the Renaissance Fair at King Soopers.

After lunch we went for a short lark, and then whenever Phil decides to get moving we're going to Larkspur, for the Fair, and then Denver, for Jim's fight. I hope he wins again, but I do wish I knew more fighters so more of the fights would be interesting. ;p I am going to try to get a t-shirt or something this time.

When we got to the fair, the enormous parking lots were packed. They actually had buses running from the parking lot to the front gate, which was set up to look like the battlement of a castle, with people in costume up on the walkway calling hello, and a couple more in costume taking tickets. A note about the costumes: the theme was not Renaissance. The theme was everybody's favorite movie, either historical of fantasy. The result was quite a few hook-on pointy ears, and even more wire-frame fairy wings. It was really fun to watch. There were hoopskirts, and asymmetrical overskirts worn without underskirts, and monks and wizards and little pink and gold princesses and a little evil fairy who skipped past the Pikes Peak Highlanders with very creditable jigging steps.. There was a man who gave short, fast history lectures, tuition optional, dressed in blue velvets. There were four women who sang, very well, dressed in gowns with the quilted sort of bodice and flowing sleeves and skirt--pre-Renaissance, I think. There were two gentlemen in black vest-cloaks and swords, who made me think of King Charles the Second but would probably have been under Cromwell, in that case. I wanted to ask what period they were from, but they were taking a picture with a fairy. There were jesters. and three people in very long pants on stilts with their hands free, the Barely Balanced Acrobatic Display. They were really very well balanced, and one of the men had the perfect manner for it. There was a short play on the Celestial Stage, where Prince Charming and Charles Dashing, speaking entirely in rhyme, told the story of the hero (played by a girl from the audience) who rescues the princess (he was black--I think they chose a guy with a shaved head so the bright blonde wig with pink bows would have full impact) from the villain (played by Charles Dashing, after much persuasive speaking on the treatment of heroines by villains--this was before Charming said the guy was going to be the princess.) They were pretty good. There was a sword fight, too, where Charming subbed for the hero because Dashing couldn't fight a girl. ("I can't fight her, she's a girl. Remember what happened last time?" (aside to the audience) "He ended up in hospital.") 

We went around the fair twice. The first round there was an enormous dog, almost white, near the elephants. I went to ask what he was, and he was an Anatolian Shepherd (working, so I couldn't pet him just then. I did ask.) We also found the Colorado Greyhound Rescue, where half a dozen beautiful dogs wearing cloth collars in Celtic designs lounged around while their humans, looking almost as medieval but much less elegant, answered questions. I made the acquaintance of a very tall laddie shedding fawn fur named Legolas. The short version of this, Leggy, was an accurate description.

We sheltered from the worst of the rain in a weaver's shop, full of absolutely lovely cotton and wool clothing: shirts and skirts (the skirts today were all especially hard on me: the best ones are the priciest), shawls and ruanas (rather like ponchos), scrunchies and pouches. I had a lovely conversation with the lady in charge of the shop, the apprenticed partner in Green Tree Weaving, ably assisted by her two sons, probably about seven and ten. She told me about their sheep, which are California variegated mutants. I looked them up, and apparently the breed is derived from the Romeldale, a hybrid breed developed through crosses of Romneys and Ramboulliets. Multicolored lambs cropped up in Romeldale herds, and from these the breed was developed. Sabine also asked whether I knitted or whatever, the underlying question being why was I interested in all these details, and I said yes, I did knit a bit, but my main interest was because I had a few sheep. Did I use my own wool? It was a goal, but I hadn't learn to spin yet, not having anyone to teach me. She advised me, very strongly, to ask about among the elders of my community and find someone. Sigh. Anyway, after much heartburnings over the lovely garments, I bought a scrunchie. I could've bought a pouch, but I wove myself one years ago. Not as nice, of course.....Anyway, not for next time: have either much more or much less money. Ninety bucks means enough to spend but not enough to spare.

That was on the second circuit, which was when I started buying things. I bought a pewter dragon pendant from one shop, while a girl in a very well-put-together costume asked about protection pendants. That startled me a bit. Anyway, so far so small, but in a clothing shop near the end I buckled down and bought an outfit. It's kind of the simplest design, full skirt with a wraparound waist and ruffled bottom and a tube blouse with elastic around the top and bottom (bottom more than top, interestingly) and little sleeved attached only below the arm. I think of it as the Barmaid Blouse, and am beginning to get my blood up thinking about how to make the thing both wearable and good-looking. The whole outfit, actually, although the skirt won't be so bad. Need to find a color that goes well with light brown--this might be easier if I'd gotten the dark brown one. Oh, well, it should be a fun challenge, anyway.

We left the fair shortly after that, although we stopped to listen to a very good group in green kilts: one piper, three or four drummers, and a guitarist with the brown curls and beard look. I think it may be true what they say about live music: it's stronger, more exciting: live. Of course. 

After Larkspur was Denver. Philip fed me at Qdoba, and then we went on to Crowne Plaza. There weren't nearly as many people there this time, which was smart of them, because they had the audio up much too loud. Add to purse: bandaids, earplugs. Anyway, Jim was sixth of ten, and the fight was a complete opposite of his first, except for the main point, of course. His first time, he won thirty seconds into the first round, forcing a submission with an arm bar. This time they went three rounds, at the end of which the judges declared Jim the winner. It was a very good fight--it's much more interesting when one has someone to cheer for--in this case, in common with a very vocal section of the crowd. There were a couple other fights where I managed to pick someone, such as Rutherford the Nebraskan, besides one of the pro fights where I rooted for the fighter eleven years older than his opponent. They both won.

We got home about midnight, and I lay down next to Grandma to tell her about it. I had dog hair all over my clothes in minutes, of course. In the end, I think it was about one-thirty when I went to sleep. A long day.

Yellow lab

Well, I let the Lark out at about eight. She comes home at nine-fifteen. Know what a curfew is, sweetie? Well, they can work in the morning, too.

So, yeah, Cheryl was here, Sid's got granddaughters over, next Mom and Grandma are going to the doctor's.

Well, much of the morning was spent being called from the computer to do chores, including word problems. They went well--it's so nice to have a coach. Mom likes the "Pocky with math" idea.

The phone rang during lunch. It was Riley, one of Sid's grandpuppies, to ask if I could come eat lunch with them. "Sure!" When I got there, Sid told me they'd been asking her to call me all morning. Well. So we had lunch, yogurt and fruit and little rolls of ham, and then Sid took Kylie down for a nap, leaving me to take care of Riley and Sidney. We did okay, playing with some toy horses and dolls, then doing a song and dance show, with me as audience. Lark was pretty nervous, but much better than the first evening. I mean, she never looked as though she were considering a snap. She wasn't much help when they had me laid out on the couch, performing surgery with various power tools, though--in fact, she was sitting on my stomach for much of that period, giving her the best opportunity to lick my face when I was laughing/screaming when it tickled. Help. A toy saw to the bottoms of the feet or lower frontal ribcage is a dangerous tool. They eventually finished up with turning me into a robot and then back again, and then Sidney decided to fix my hair for me. I have to say, the process gave me a new respect for B, although she did ask for it. Also there's less a little girl can do to short hair.......My salvation was my hair tie, which Sidney eventually declared unmanageable and returned to me. I put my hair back in its ponytail and we went to find Sid. She gave me a wipe for my glasses, which by this time were hopeless, and the little girls occupied themselves with the hose and some water balloons. I beat a retreat. No Philip in sight--two-forty-five.

Still on five reps, push-and-sit-ups. The pushups are getting harder, and my abs complain vociferously when I make a wrong move.

Phil came....when, four? Maybe. Mom and Grandma got in shortly after, and we sat around eating Boonzaijer goodies until Sid called to tell me remember that pie? Come get some, so I headed over there. The granddaughters were loaded into a mom's van, but Sid had half a blueberry cheesecake for me. Yummy......

It was almost five-thirty when Lark and I went out. It was still pretty hot, too. She kept careful track of me, possibly also scared by this morning's escapade, which is reassuring. On the first leg I was coming up on a curve when Lark, already at the bend, stopped. Her tail wagged a couple times, the hello-I-don't-know-you-are-you-nice? wag, and she checked to see that I was coming. Give me another month or so and I'll tell you whether it's males or females just from her behavior. In this case it was a couple of young guys in shorts. One was wearing an undershirt. The other.....wasn't. The first one was appropriately willing to pet a little dog circling his legs, and as I came by he said, "Nice dog." "Thank you," I said. Just after that is the dike for the pond, where a yellow lab was getting her water fix. I think one of her hocks was rather swollen, and it showed in her gait. She ignored Lark. We went on, and were both pretty hot and tired by the time we reached the base. I'm reading Cetaganda now, and wondering whether to continue with Ii Hito, now that his girlfriend is beginning to find out about all the women in Tokyo who like him......

Note: try to get Phil to take me to B&N this weekend. Also try for Renaissance Fair at some point.

The boys called this evening. Hm....

A pictures post. Grandma wanted me to send some pictures of wildflowers to Robin, and while it's doubtful that this will be accomplished I do have some pictures for here. Philip helped me take them this afternoon.