Dogs; Auggie and Eli

A little bit of drama

/ J. F. Riordan / 31 Comments

It was very windy yesterday, and normally I am conscious of the dangers of being among trees in those conditions. But it was sunny and warm, and I was restless from writing, and Auggie was restless from being himself, so we were outside when a big tree came crashing down before our eyes, very close to where we had just been.

It was far enough away that we were not in any danger, but close enough that the wood dust flew into our eyes. We went indoors to find the bedroom doors blown open, and small branches on the floor. Eli, who had refused to come outside, was hiding. After that we waited for sunset, when the wind tends to die down, to go out again.

Life is precarious, so this dog photo isn’t really gratuitous at all. Eli insisted on resting his head on Auggie’s flank. After some pointed stares and couple of noises that were more groans than growls, Auggie permitted it. For a little while.

We have another big dead tree close to the house I had planned to ignore for a while. I guess I’d better call Johanna, our tree climbing, chainsaw-wielding arborist.

Saturday Idyll

/ J. F. Riordan / 14 Comments

A beautiful snowy morning. Went out in the dark to get a log, because it seemed wrong not to have a lovely fire. Dogs were quite excited that we were to play so early, and were sadly disappointed when I returned indoors so quickly.

Instead of writing, I spent a happy morning planning Valentine gifts.

We will have a cozy day at home, with a little novel plotting mixed in.

Happy Weekend!

The Long-awaited Nervous Breakdown

/ J. F. Riordan / 32 Comments

Yesterday I never got out of my pajamas. I walked the dogs in my down coat, so no one could have known it was covering pajamas. I knew, however, and it made me inexplicably happy.

I took a very long scented bath.

I did not put on mascara.

I did not write.

I also did not drink. (Oh, Dry January, get thee behind me.)

I did not cook, other than the avocado toast with poached eggs which we all ate for breakfast. (Except the dogs, who do not like avocado, but just had their poached eggs on toast with rice and ground beef and pumpkin and goat yogurt. They were happy.)

I lay around and read a book.

I searched online for vintage houses in unlikely places and concluded that people who watch HGTV should be prohibited from remodeling any house built before 1970.

I annoyed friends and husband with texted listings of vintage houses in unlikely places. Husband promised to send postcards.

I did not mop the floor.

I did not take down the small tree in the library.

I did not run to the local co-op for any missing pantry item.

I achieved Genius level in a NYTimes word puzzle. Even the venerable NYT has succumbed to grade inflation.

I actually did not nap, but I snuggled my big dogs while they dozed in the sunshine. Auggie purred. Eli snored.

I watched British Antiques Roadshow on the new tv in the library.

I bored myself, which, I think, is something we all need now and then.

This morning I had a full hour more of essential REM sleep than previously, even though I thought I was awake all night.

Oh. And I woke up with a new idea for the book.