Change of pace
Sep. 30th, 2004 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumI feel I'm blogging nothing but politics, and that depresses me (because for all that I enjoy your company, and am glad my rants are more than acts of public masturbation, I do this because there are things I want to remember. Things I want to share the memories of but memory is the driving force).
So, before the next fit of appoplectic vitriol (already fermenting) a bit on life.
The central coast of Calif. (Pismo/SLO/Morro Bay/Monterey) is a wealth of microclimates. Grover Beach, for example, is foggy, windy and, sort of, cold. That's where we live. Today the sun is gone, low clouds and spizzles of inneffective rain (the sort of thing a Seattlite would call dry).
The potted plant, therefore, need more water, because the wind sucks it right out of the dirt.
The dogs need more food, because they have to keep warm (and we need to get some carpeting they won't chew to string, so they can sleep (if they will) off the concrete).
But the block is pretty good. A double cul-de-sac, so the kids can play in the street. Friendly neighbours (none have brought a casserole, but it's that sort of feeling). The other side of our fence, is a middle school, so shrieks and hollers are the mid-day sounds (and we can probably take the dogs there... at worst there is a low fence we can use as an observed dog run [Token won't go haring off if we are there, well he won't if there is a fence. Maia has taken him on trails, so it might be alright to go to the unfenced dog-park, but why take chances?] and Oliver can chase a couple brace of tennis balls to his heart's delight).
Oliver, esp. seems happier than he has been. I gauge this from how he reacts to me coming outdoors (owning/keeping a dog is a humbling thing, I am not cut out for the role of petty god, and the sense of helplesness and guilt when he was never off a lead or chain was debilitating). He quivers. He sits (they must back away from the door and wait, or we won't come out) and waits. Were he a human, I think he would bate his breath.
And, for the first time in about two years, he has been having that symptom of doggie bliss, "happy pee," (when I worked for the vet this was a source of great consternation to owners, and just a fact of life to us. Dogs who are gleeful, will piddle, not much, but more than a spot. Most owners don't see this, because they are an ever present fact of life.. take them to the vet; leave them for three days, in the care of strangers, and suffering indignities, and they'll wet the floor and try to sprain a tail saying hello).
So things proceed.
I'll be out of town for a week (no idea yet about net-access, so I may be in hiatus, but that happens anyway), and coming home looks better than it has in ages.
So, before the next fit of appoplectic vitriol (already fermenting) a bit on life.
The central coast of Calif. (Pismo/SLO/Morro Bay/Monterey) is a wealth of microclimates. Grover Beach, for example, is foggy, windy and, sort of, cold. That's where we live. Today the sun is gone, low clouds and spizzles of inneffective rain (the sort of thing a Seattlite would call dry).
The potted plant, therefore, need more water, because the wind sucks it right out of the dirt.
The dogs need more food, because they have to keep warm (and we need to get some carpeting they won't chew to string, so they can sleep (if they will) off the concrete).
But the block is pretty good. A double cul-de-sac, so the kids can play in the street. Friendly neighbours (none have brought a casserole, but it's that sort of feeling). The other side of our fence, is a middle school, so shrieks and hollers are the mid-day sounds (and we can probably take the dogs there... at worst there is a low fence we can use as an observed dog run [Token won't go haring off if we are there, well he won't if there is a fence. Maia has taken him on trails, so it might be alright to go to the unfenced dog-park, but why take chances?] and Oliver can chase a couple brace of tennis balls to his heart's delight).
Oliver, esp. seems happier than he has been. I gauge this from how he reacts to me coming outdoors (owning/keeping a dog is a humbling thing, I am not cut out for the role of petty god, and the sense of helplesness and guilt when he was never off a lead or chain was debilitating). He quivers. He sits (they must back away from the door and wait, or we won't come out) and waits. Were he a human, I think he would bate his breath.
And, for the first time in about two years, he has been having that symptom of doggie bliss, "happy pee," (when I worked for the vet this was a source of great consternation to owners, and just a fact of life to us. Dogs who are gleeful, will piddle, not much, but more than a spot. Most owners don't see this, because they are an ever present fact of life.. take them to the vet; leave them for three days, in the care of strangers, and suffering indignities, and they'll wet the floor and try to sprain a tail saying hello).
So things proceed.
I'll be out of town for a week (no idea yet about net-access, so I may be in hiatus, but that happens anyway), and coming home looks better than it has in ages.
