quelle surprise

guess what?

2010-06-07T17:43:55Z

So it has been nearly two years since my last post. As has probably become obvious, I am not good at keeping a weblog regularly updated. Moving on.

Today is Lebowski's 2nd birthday! This little guy

turned into this monster!

Now it's possible that if you haven't been around Lebowski lately, you might look at the second picture and say "Yeah, that's a full grown dog, but I wouldn't call him a MONSTER." But if you were to be in his presence you would quickly discover that he has turned into over 120 pounds of canine sweetness. Bouncy, bouncy sweetness. He's bigger than lots of people! Fortunately his temprement centered in an attempt to please* because I have probably lost the battle to maintain the illusion that I am still stronger than him.

*his methods are frequently suspect, but his heart's in the right place--jumping, nosing, pawing, barking, and tugging don't usually elict the response he's looking for. Usually all he wants is to be the center of attention, preferrably with tummy scratches. But sometimes ball tossing will suffice.

Anyhoodle, today is his birthday, and I would like to publicly proclaim that adopting Mr. Stinky Bottom Puppy Dog is by far the best thing I have done so far in life.

since the debate is tonight, i guess i could think about talking about politics

2008-09-26T22:32:04Z

In my Google Reader I keep seeing Palin as Paris. This makes me think two things:

1. I think I'm on to something there. Right?

2. What does it say about me that my feeds are more likely to be about fame whores than politicos?

Um, don't answer that second one, mmkay?

this post is not about my dog

2008-09-24T23:04:12Z

My house came with a garage sitting backwards on the corner of the lot. Like a good American, I moved in and promptly filled the garage with a bunch of stuff I use occasionally--coolers, shovels, wheelbarrows, bicycles, fasteners, odd pieces of wood, tools, snow tires, etc., and parked my car in the driveway. Well I am here to tell you that when you have to drive to work in the morning with the windshield wipers going so you can see out in September, a painful future of window-scraping awaits you (on days when you are too lazy to get out of bed early enough to ride the bus). So last night I used some of those tools and fasteners to hang miscellaneous garage-items on the walls, placed others in handily hung cabinets (thanks Pop!) and stacked a few more around the perimeter. Then I opened the big door and drove the car inside. In the fourteen years this car has been a part of my family, it has never had a garage space. But it does now! Spoiled in its old age.

And just in case you were missing any mention of the puppy, he was not a good garage-cleaning helper. This may come as a shock, but I assure you that it is true. Don't worry, later in the evening he got to play with his David and chew on his Leah and go on a big walk where he got stickers in his foot.

seasonally affected

2008-09-23T15:21:34Z

Early mornings around these parts are starting to feel a little like fall. At 6:05 am when I let the dog out this morning, the long tufts of grass that seriously need a shearing were just a wee bit crunchy on top. The air smelled crisp and I had a sudden craving for pumpkin pie.

Little Lebowski, on the other hand, wouldn't come down the porch steps under his own steam* and had a look on his face like "you have got to be kidding, I'm going back to bed." Puppy's first brrrrr! As soon as the leaves start falling, I'm sure he'll be over it.

*That dog is getting too heavy for pick-ups. Ouch!

so it turns out

2008-09-22T22:20:10Z

You may be amazed to learn that puppies are a great deal of work. Who knew? The (not as little as he used to be) guy has been living with me for almost two months now, and I am only just returning to the internet. Sorry y'all. But really. Could you resist this face? Obviously I could not. (FYI, that picture was taken the day he came home. He's bigger now. But still irresistable!) Anyhoot, would you like to know some stuff about him? When I first met him, a very sweet little girl handed me a wiggling mass of puppydog. As I took him from her arms, he crawled up me and proceeded to lick me all over my face. I was done. Love at first sight and all that jazz. This dog is mine!

The Story of His Name

The following is a faked-up transcript between me and my mother during his first nap at my house:

Mom: Does he seem upset that he has left his mother and his family and everything he ever knew behind?

Me: Nope. He tried to eat some snapdragons and now he's napping in the flowerbed.

Mom: So he wasn't at all troubled with leaving his family with a total stranger, going on a second big car ride in one day, and arriving in a totally new and strange place?

Me: Nope.

Mom: He's such a dude.

Me: Maybe I should name him Lebowski!

end scene

(Also, his favorite substance on planet earth? Grass. Additionally, he would enjoy it greatly if someone would let him try that stuff in beer bottles already. He's getting sick of trying to knock them over to get to the goods inside.)

The Story of How He Isn't Allowed on the Furniture:
Yeah, this dog isn't at all spoiled (in this photo from a couple weeks ago it should be obvious that he is very sleepy and also the same color as the sofa).

The Story of How He Never Misbehaves:

Honestly, potty training has gone very smoothly. His accidents are few and far between, and already he is sleeping uncrated on the floor of my bedroom. (His options: floor, super comfy giant dog bed he treats as a chew toy but does not ever sleep on, super comfy upholstered chair that he treats as a chew toy but does not ever sleep on.) He's never had an accident in the bedroom.

Even though I am totally biased and think that there is no better puppy anywhere ever, I will share that his poop doesn't smell like roses (nor does his gas). Also, he snores. But most importantly, his teeth are SHARP. The People all say puppies grow out of the biting thing, but jeepers cats, man, he can be vicious when he is hyper and wants to play. Those nips of love HURT. We start kindergarten this week. Hopefully professional help will either reassure me that this is normal or teach me some better training methods. Or both.

He also thinks it is funny to chew on pant legs, bath mats, jacket sleeves, jacket zippers, bath towels, furniture legs, furniture skirts, and pretty much anything else he can get in his mouth. Constant vigilence. I've let him have the peonies and supplied him with a never ending supply of puppy chew toys, tennis balls, frisbees, and his ultimate favorite pinecones.

Lebowski isn't at all shy, and loves to meet new people and dogs. If you want a doggie playdate just give us a call. His vet says he can go anywhere now that his immunizations are up to snuff! She also says he seems to have no nerve endings, but I think he's too enamored of the chew toys and the ladies cooing over him to be bothered with flinching when he gets his shots. Dude's got an image to maintain!

(We went camping last week:)

puppy day is finally here!

2008-08-01T15:39:33Z

EEEEEEEEEE!!!! In just a few hours I get to go pick up Mr. Puppy. If the internet is very very lucky I will share a photo and some initial thoughts of him, but only if I can tear myself away. He still has no official name, but I have a whole list of considerations. My plan is to randomly call him with names off the list and see what he responds to best--basically to let him name himself.

Here's the list:
Scoresby
Charlie
Alfred
Hamilton
Mister (undoubtably he will frequently be called Mr. something-or-other)
Huston
Uncle Vanya
Moose
Señor Pawlo
Martin

I'll keep you posted, you know, while he's napping.

it's my birthday! and other ramblings

2008-07-28T17:45:30Z

Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be thirty four, and I have to say I love life as a thirty-something. I'm the happiest and most secure I've been in years and really like the person I've grown up to be. And according to Wikipedia, I'm in good company with other July 29th babies: Clara Bow, Jean Baudrillard, Tim Gunn, and Ted Mosby! My day will begin with a call from South Africa, then off to work where in the middle of the day the best volunteer ever (a woman I call "Mom") is taking me to lunch. Indian? French? Thai? How to pick? Then dinner with the P's, maybe some hangout time with Mammacita (chilling on my patio with her last week on her birthday was so grand, I kinda want to repeat the experience!). Maybe I should call and ask her if she wants to come.

Speaking of Alisha, the pAAin don't hurt pAArty, this year's AA Extravaganza, was super big fun Saturday night. The mood was just right, and with few exceptions the guests kept it crazy but not too drunk. The overall mix of guests was random, glorious, and peppered with lots of folks from out of town. The food was delish and comedic, and a lot more people enjoy the Swayze than we could ever have hoped. I stayed up talking with Darrin and Holly until 7:30 in the a.m. when they folded and went to bed. I called them wussies and put the food away before collapsing myself. While talking all night with interesting people is incredibly enjoyable, it certainly isn't something I hope to do many more times in my life. I'm still feeling a bit discombobulated.*

I better pull it together, because my life is turning topsy turvy on Friday when Mister Puppy (name still to be determined) moves in. This week I need to finish puppy-proofing and make some final decisions about The Rules. Hopefully I can start out his life with me well rested and ready to become a lot more patient. I know that raising him is going to be hard, but I can't imagine anything more rewarding than a friendly, jovial dog waiting at home.

*note to self, in the future spend lots more time with Darrin and Holly because they are all of the awesome.

yarn diet

2008-07-09T17:27:54Z

I have quite a stash. In fact, I have so much yarn stuffed into odd corners I'm not even sure what all is there or what I had intended to make with most of it. This is particularly sad since I just moved. This weekend I finished a couple pairs of socks and a sweater that I've been ignoring, not realizing that there was only about 2 hours of work left. Tadum. I also realize that I have a couple of unfinished gifts that I really need to finish up--Mammacita's Special Day socks that turned out ridiculously small and need to essentially be re-knit, and some hand-sewing affixing a knit-bit to my Pop's birthday gift. From February. La la la. I also started work on cutting teeshirt strips to make a ball for the Mason-Dixon Dizzy Rug. My intent is to make a bunch of them as washable dog-bed covers. However, I think my rotary cutter needs a new blade, actually knitting is way more fun than cutting and winding, and I'm getting a blister on my thumb. Basically, the chances of me working through the eight garbage bags full of old teeshirts I freecycled a year ago any time soon is slim. Poor puppy won't get his cool beds right away. Whatev.

Anyway, the point of this post is that even though I have plenty of stuff to work on, much of which is surely fascinating, it has come to my attention that I must make this out of some bulky weight kitchen cotton from Elmore-Pisgah as soon as is humanly possible. Duh.

weekend update

2008-07-07T20:42:13Z

I had the best weekend. Seriously, the best! Since I know the entire world is fascinated by the minutae of my everyday life I will share a blow-by-blow account.

Thursday evening I stayed up way too late first watching Road House for the third time in six months with Mammacita and Leah, a Road House virgin. I'm not positive she loved this quality film as much as we do, but she didn't walk out so I guess we're good. How can someone not be blown away by the Swayzetastic wonder of bar fights in high-waisted, pleated, white pants? After arriving home I was not at all sleepy--I blame the red vines--so I puttered around the house until the wee hours.

Friday I didn't leave the house once, and I'm pretty sure the phone didn't ring either. Sometimes it is nice to have a completely alone day. I continued the house puttering, tidying up and puppy-proofing mostly. I caught up on some tivo and knitting (watch for a future post about some lagging UFOs that are now finally off the needles), and made myself some weenies and potato salad in honor of the holiday. Even though my neighborhood is apparently fireworks crazy, I was sleeping by eleven. Lovely!

Saturday I woke up early and made a big breakfast that I ate with The Economist at the dining table. The temperature cooled a bit so I was able to go out and mow at a neighbor-friendly 10, instead of waiting until a neighbor-friendly hour and discovering that it was already too hot to be pushing a mower around (like happened on Friday). Instead of the approach that is becoming normal--to mow as quickly as possible missing a number of spots somehow and skipping the scary weed-wacker all together--I took my time and really polished off the yard. I followed this with some weeding and compost-bin collecting. During the afternoon I attacked the house with vacuum, dustrag, and sponge. The place looks great! Around seven I rode my bike downtown for the Northwest Motorfest Capitol City Cruise. I watched the cars go by, including Pop's '32 Ford, and was able to enjoy a tasty beer with my Pop and his buddy before heading home as the sun started to set (boo on me for not bringing a bike light). Unfortunately, Pop's car had a hard night (having to do with a faulty distributor) and had to go home on a flatbed. Sad. Not to worry! It was feeling better the next day after a cash transfusion! Since I had no clue of the bad news happening downtown, I enjoyed the evening sitting on the front porch watching the world go by, followed by another early bedtime.

Sunday I woke early again and scurried outside to feed the plants some fertilizer before the sun got hot. Everybody was looking much happier by the end of Sunday, so it must not have burned. Hooray! The rest of the day was spent cooking, cleaning, and carrying things that I'm not sure what to do with to the basement. I guess all that stuff can just sit down there until I want it--even though the house is big (relatively, of course) with lots of storage, I'm not sure where to put plenty of junk. I guess that's what unfinished basements are for! Around seven Pop called and invited me to dinner. Hooray! He picked me up in the (now running) fun car and we whizzed downtown for some fish and chips. There is something so fun about riding in a tiny convertible with a ridiculously overpowered engine--as long as you don't think about the inherent dangers or environmental outcomes. Hey, he's going to be driving anyway. I might as well enjoy the wind in my hair. Anyway, good food and fun times. I enjoyed some more porch time before heading to bed for another good night's sleep before having to return to work.

Such a perfect weekend. I never felt pressured or like I had to be anywhere, accomplished a ton, and feel totally relaxed and recuperated. Why can't all weekends include an extra holiday?

alternative transportation

2008-07-03T19:07:23Z

I try really hard not to drive my car to work. Really I do. But even for somebody who is really committed to making it happen, the Subaru ends up in the employee parking garage more days than not. During the homebuying/moving/what-have-you marathon I frequently had to run places during the day or directly after work, but even on days where I don't have to have the car available I find myself jumping in each morning.

Since I moved I haven't tried the bus, but I loved bus-riding last winter. It was especially easy because the bus rolled by right in front of my apartment. At the new house, the bus comes by about seven minutes earlier and is about four blocks away across a busy street (there is a stoplight another two blocks away). Have I timed how long it will take me to walk that far? Of course not. Biking takes just about as much time as driving in the mornings, assisted by a steep downhill. In the afternoons it takes considerably longer, and seems almost impossible when temperatures are hovering around 100 degrees at quitting time. I need to get rolling on the bus, but the route and schedule are frankly quite inconvenient--I'm guessing I'll have to leave the house 30 minutes earlier than I do to drive/bike, and in my rushed mornings a half hour seems impossible. Getting home is even worse. Because of the distance from my office to the bus stop and the lame-o once-an-hour Boise bus schedule, I will have to hang out downtown for over an hour. I will miss the earlier bus by mere minutes, but miss it I will. While window shopping is an occassional treat, not every stinking day. Especially with a sweet lonely puppy waiting at home! I had this same problem at the apartment, but usually I would just walk. In the shade. In about 40 minutes. The walk to the new house would probably be over an hour and decidedly not shady. Please refer back to the aforementioned 100 degree temperatures at quitting time.

I'm thinking about this a lot right now because I have been invited to participate in a group trying to improve alternative transportation usage at The Place That Pays The Bills (you know, my job). Being selected to be part of the committee feels like a big deal, and I hope we can do some good. But short of improving the area's completely subpar transit system, I'm not really sure what can be done to get lots of people on board. Bikes are fun some days, but require a lot of gear and planning, and are very weather-dependent for most riders. In other words, possible in the spring and fall, but pretty much out when temperatures go to the extremes. Walking is limited to the few people who live close enough. And the bus? Unless you are very lucky (as I was at the apartment), it is a huge hassel and never convenient--even if the employer picks up the fare (as mine does). I hope the other people on this committee have some good, fresh ideas. Even though I really want to leave the car home, and I do think it is critically important, I can't seem to figure out how to make it work in a very practical way. Maybe I should join a carpool.

Anyway, I'm feeling discouraged.

woof!

2008-07-02T17:08:11Z

With the arrival of the puppy imminent (you know, a few weeks off), I've been reading the training books like a crazy person. Almost everyone I've spoken to swears by the monks. Most of these people have great dogs themselves. However, the monks freaked me out. FREAKED ME OUT. They had me convinced that there was no way I could go to work everyday (thereby allowing me to bring home the kibble) and raise a healthy, happy, socialized puppy. If I was going to do this, I needed a six month vacation.

Now let's not be hasty. I'd love a six month vacay to hang at home with the poocharoo. However, see aforementioned "kibble". See also: mortgage. Oh boy, how do I love a good "See also". Nerd. Moving on. Obviously the monks are not for me (though I will definitely be trying some of their techniques, I'm just not down with the whole philosophy--any dog training book that makes me feel bad about myself can be returned to the Library! post haste). Monday night I started reading the right puppy training book for me. The approach just makes sense! The philosophy is pretty much from the instant the dog comes into your home, you teach him how to be the best member of YOUR family possible.

You teach him to respect you and your friends and family. You teach him how to entertain himself when you are not home. You teach him appropriate ways to play, eliminate, and interact with his new environment. And all of it happens in a way that from where I'm standing feels very organic. It is a training method that will work with my already established life. As I was discussing this with Mammacita, all she could do was laff and laff and laff. I know she's just waiting to point, chuckle, and say "I told you so". she knows from experience that all the planning in the world doesn't change the fact that every pooch is different and pretty much nothing is going to happen just as I want it to. While this is possible (and in fact probable), the way I operate works better if I have a plan to be tweaked rather than figuring it out as I go.

Just last night my good friend Jennifer was up at my place for some chatting and knitting. I was trying to finish some socks (monkeys for my mom--shhh top secret) and Fern was making up a top-down raglan cardigan. While actively chatting with me, she realized that her idea was not going to work out quite as expected. My approach to this catastrophe would have included totally dropping out of the conversation (or perhaps more politely waiting until my guest went home), pulling out graph paper, hitting up some ravelry forums, and totally overthinking how to solve the problem. Jennifer's approach? Was to just knit a totally different sweater. With no planning. And by the time she left it as obvious that a) the sweater was going to be totally cute, and b) fit her really really well. If I had just wung it, that wouldn't have been the result. No-way Jose.

I think my approach to dog training is the same way. I'm a planner, an overthinker, a strategizer, and maybe just a titch anal. Obviously, the best thing for me to do to maybe become a little more relaxed about things (which is probably necessary for me to have a happier and healthier life), is to adopt a dog.

Czech!

welcome home, amy

2008-06-30T22:02:49Z

Yipes. It's been bizzy around these parts. I closed on the house April 11, and immediately started some home improvement projects supposedly under the tutelage of one dude I call Pop. Not completely unexpectedly, my skills were deemed fairly subpar and so most of my duties were limited to Holding Things, Picking Things Up, and Swiping My Debit Card. The backyard is now beautifully fenced and the garage now has a person door as well as the large door. If only I would get around to putting away my bike and gardening gear, my car could park inside for the first time in its 14 years with our family. These huge projects as well as a seemingly infinite number of helpful tips and assistance all over the house and property are something for which I can never thank him enough. My Pop rocks!

At this point the house is really starting to feel like my home. Almost everything is unpacked and put away and I am starting to develop patterns. It feels good. The only thing that could make it any better would be the arrival of the furry four-legged pal I've wanted to adopt for years. My parents, only semi-jokingly, refer to the house as my very expensive kennel. And guess what? On July 25th a wee little pooch will be arriving on my doorstep.* He is a golden retriever puppy tentatively named Sam Elliott, Scoresby, or Hamilton. However, all suggestions will be considered! If you've got one, please leave it in the comments. Puppy parenting is more than I had originally planned, and I have to say I am not looking forward to housetraining. But I realized that any new member of the family was going to be a pain for quite a long time no matter his or her age, and it is much easier to forgive somebody as cute as a puppy.

For the foreseeable future my life will continue to be ever-so-slightly over full and my ability to socially engage in non-dog-friendly activities will be limited. I'm already going to be neglecting the poor pooch to go to work every day. I want to be able to spend my evenings with him to make sure his life is made as happy as I hope he will make mine. At least I won't be taking classes this fall, though I do have to make sure to get all of my application materials together so I can start the program in earnest in the Spring. GMAT study guide, I hope I didn't lose you in the move.

*Yes, I do realize this is the day before the AA Party scheduled to be at my house this year--be there or be square. This year's theme "pAAin don't hurt". Isn't over-stimulating puppies supposed to be good for them so they don't grow up overly timid? I'm hoping he'll be tired and can take a nap in my bedroom with the door closed during the party. Poor planning on my part, but that's just the way it worked out.

muy excitante

2008-04-01T18:01:03Z

So here it is, my new house (picture lifted from the assessor's website). According to all of the people working to make this happen, there is no foreseeable reason why I won't be closing a week from Friday. I don't think the cause of my bouncing off the walls is overcaffienation this morning.

furniture pr0n

2008-03-28T16:43:11Z

Now that the house is found and due to be mine in two(ish) weeks, I am spending too much time thinking about what I'd like to put in it. My darling Mammacita has cautioned me not to plan where to place furniture until the papers are signed to try to avoid heartbreak. This is good advice, so I'm not thinking about where to place furniture I already own. No, I am dreaming of furniture I don't have and definitely cannot afford now that I'm taking on a mortgage. My personal style probably leaves most people scratching their heads. I love mixing what I call Grandma Chic with Midcentury Modern. For example, picture this table set with hand-quilted log-cabin placemats in pastel 30's reproduction fabrics (thanks Mom)! Adorable.

I can picture the living room with refinished floors, any number of updated sconce fixtures, and a trip to Utah (damn you for not selling my couch online). Also needed: bookshelves and recovered shell chairs. And floor lamps. And the coffee table currently in Turbo's storage unit (hah). The front porch is begging for an Adirondack chair with nice wide arms for a coffee cup while I keep a keen eye on the neighborhood. And the bedrooms? Well. The bedrooms need a lot of work. One needs new flooring before much of anything can happen, and the other is begging for refaced cabinets. But before those sorts of projects commence, I will be building a fence so a fuzzy four legged friend can come to stay with me. Yay puppy!

One of the things I love the best about this house is the windows. Every room has natural light from at least two directions. However, this doesn't leave much room for art. I have some photographs I love, and a quilt my mother assembled that is truly a showcase. Plus, I have an idea for creating my own version of Ellsworth Kelly's Spectrum Colors. The thing here, of course, is that the house is mine and I've got as much time as I want to truly create the space I want to live in. Hooray!

news

2008-03-26T23:07:57Z

It appears that I have bought a house. Closing isn't for three weeks (though it might be moved up), but all the major hurdles have been jumped.

Wheeeeeee!