Monday, February 21, 2011
All I've really been able to do for much of the month (besides walking) has been reading and watching old movies and BBC comedies. Not too shabby, so I'm not complaining. We're having a ball watching new-to-us shows like Keeping Up Appearances, Yes Prime Minister, The Old Guys and so on.
And the books I've been reading -- a couple of Bill Bryson books: Notes from a Small Island (okay), I'm a Stranger Here Myself (better and some of his essays are actually things I've thought about writing and have at least talked about in the past), and Romney Steele's My Nepenthe, Bohemian Tales of Food, Family and Big Sur.
Romney's book was one I couldn't wait to get back to between readings. Her grandmother Lolly felt like my kindred spirit -- hip to intentional community and sharing beauty. I wanted to be there and the only way I could be was in the pages of that book as I read it. Food, artists, nature, bohemia, community on the edge of such grandeur -- it's what I live and long for so naturally I immersed myself in its pages for the two days I took to read it.It beckoned me so.
Between supervising Marty in the kitchen and the literary pursuits, all in all, not a bad way to mend a strained shoulder.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Oh, and Bob's the little guy we rescued from the local MSPCA a week or so before Christmas. Hadn't given him a second look all the weeks we were going to the pound, and then one day, we decided what the heck, we'll take him for a walk. Despite the fact that he actually knocked me over when I was kneeling on the ground saying hi to him, followed by a nip to my hand (he's still in that land shark puppy stage you know when everything goes in his mouth), we couldn't stop thinking about him.
So I went back a couple of days later and took him for a longer walk, and hung out on the park bench with him. When I brought him back into the office I told the staff it was a good thing they take licenses before you can walk the dogs. I wanted to take him home then. By our third visit, he was getting to know us, not barking like the banshee he'd been in the beginning (although I do think his cage still looked like a tornado with teeth had hit), and we were smitten.
Marty brought him home the next morning while I was at work. He was on his best behavior for quite a while, and is now settling in comfortably (becoming more of the Jack Russell/Rat Terror that he supposedly is). I think we'll keep him.