Homecoming

Gotcha Day. Adopt-aversary. Adoption day. Whatever you call it, it’s a good day to celebrate.

Four years ago last Wednesday, Oakley came home. Did I show you this picture? oakley

(He was getting anxious and his eyes had dilated, causing a weird bounce of the flash.)

The application had been processed in forty eight hours. The call came: want to meet him at the adoption fair on Saturday?

Yes, please. Clean the crate. Put anything chewable out of reach. Get the water bowl ready, the one with DOG on the side. Kept us from using it for chips.

Ready as we ever could be, we drove to the pet store hosting the fair. It was sunny, mild, and the residual snow from the Groundhog Day blizzard clung in clumps and small heaps to the green spaces in the parking lot.

Oakley and a terrier mix occupied a large crate. The director of the shelter reached in, put a slip lead around Oakley’s neck and brought him out to meet us. He seemed puzzled, but compiled with us walking him around on the leash.

Filled out some more paperwork, bought some necessities, and headed to the car.

I managed to corral several yards of legs and tail into a manageable bundle and sat him on my lap. He looked out of the window, then put his head on my shoulder, sighed, and began to snore.

Even with the bond forging between pour hearts, it took time to unpack the shelter baggage, more than expected. It took patience to help him grow beyond the semi-feral anxiety based behaviors, more than I thought I had. Every night, I reminded him, “You are a descendent of the companions of the courts of France and England. I expect you to act as such.”

Not a few treats later, he blossomed from the spastic moody teen-dogger into a calm (except at play group), affectionate, gentle companion doing his Great Pyr and hound ancestors proud.

And his human mom, too.

Wait For It….

Just tried to get Oakley to potty. No luck. I don’t think I could potty in a 20+MPH shrieking north wind, either. At least the sun is out today. The roads are clear, so play group is in order.

Nowhere near as bad as last year, though. I can get out of my house and drive safely. I’m grateful for that. Unlike last year, the times the deep freeze have only been for a day or so with two storms requiring a call to the snow removal company. The roller coaster ride continues through next week March is supposed to be warmer than usual. So we wait.

My biggest problem is boredom right now. I’m caught between Weight Watchers and the wheat sensitivity, so cooking is not really an option. At least the things that I really want to cook aren’t. I dream of cake the way that I usually dream of Sting.

I distract myself with the yearly rerun of “The Tudors.” My favorite Ren Faire opens only five months from yesterday, so that countdown is on. Last night I checked the website to see if there was any news about this summer’s acts. No, but the memories of the green leaves and the scent of turkey legs on the grill and all that goes with it made me whimper a little bit.

In the meantime, I have streams of music from that era to soothe the ache. I can have reasonable amounts of chocolate And in a few weeks, I can have my tea outdoors.

It will be worth the wait. Really.

T Minus Five Weeks and Counting

Or so will say the groundhog tomorrow about spring.

We weathered the storm pretty well. The delay in the roads getting plowed was legit. I found out on Friday from a friend whose mom lives further out in the sticks that the county closed down all the roads. Having four plows wind up in the ditch will do that. A wise decision, indeed.

Things returned to pretty much normal Thursday. The snow is melting from the bottom up, collapsing into shapes like Jell-O molds gone wrong. Roads are perfect.

We had fog this morning, and there’s a chance of rain tonight. But there’s only five more weeks to go.

The Wisdom of Princess Anna

Today we have a week left in Mercury’s current retrograde period and a full moon. Both portent optimal times to release that which no longer serves you. That and the marginal roads (Mercury ruling transportation, after all*) here in soybean land encourage me to stay home and do some decluttering.

This morning I cleaned out a cabinet. I found storage jars and some sundry mass-produced bowls that hadn’t seen the light of day since George W’s first term in office; pasta that had gone buggy; and some cocoa mix with a 2006 expiration date.

Yep. Take Princess Anna’s musical advice and let it go. Goodwill is going to love me. The trash collector is going to hate me. Oh, well. Let it go, let it go.

I do decluttering in fifteen minute slices. My phone has an app that lets it serve as a timer, and knowing that I only have to go at a closet or a cabinet for a limited period makes it kind of fun. I don’t overthink, I just toss.

On a physical level, I created storage space for some random small appliances that need more dignified quarters than the kitchen island. On a metaphysical  level, I’ve freed some psychic space and will be propelled forward with the energy released next week when Mercury gets its act together and goes straight.

Except for the trash collector, everyone wins.

*Seriously. Usually, maybe ten minutes to get there; seven if none of the cops lurk in the bushes or subdivision entrances. Yesterday it took 20 minutes to get to the intersection of the main road into town and the state route running through it. Only reason I went out was because Oakley desperately needed to go to play group. He got the crazy out of his system and is snoring away next to me.

Postscript to a Blizzard

The eerie silence woke me this morning. Usually the school busses rumble their way up the road. Trains write their run-on sentences punctuated by whistle blasts. Birds, even in winter, chatter. The neighbor’s shepherd mix alerts us to threats such as air currents.

This blue bright morning, nothing.

I looked out the sidelight by the front door. Snow completely obscured the driveway and road, blanketing the fields as far as west as I could see.

This morning contrasted starkly with yesterday’s iron skies and snow weaving a thick grey veil that obscured the neighbors’ out buildings, rendering them shapeless and slumped to the common eye. The wind blew and blew hard at times, conspiring with the sharply dropping temps to meet blizzard criteria.

We had all the necessities to ride it out. Biskies, chocolate, food items with a higher nutritional profile, tea, toilet paper. Power stayed on and connectivity stayed strong. Nothing to do except look out the back door and comment “holy crap!” occasionally.

Today, we dig out a bit. I’m waiting until out road gets at least another pass before I call the driveway people. It’s quite cold, 10 above, I think. The lack of wind makes it almost tolerable outside, taking the sting out of shoveling around the garage, back door, and sump pump.

The plow has been down the road, rumpling the snow to the shoulders. The question of ice still remains, so we’ll be sticking close to home the rest of the day, possibly tomorrow.

For now, we wait for the “all clear” signal from the train.