PapaGeek spent the weekend playing with some of his water-friends out of town. He always has a wonderful time pretending he is Bob Vila-- in someone else's space with supervision. This left me an entire weekend to do what-ever.....with no cooking!....no set plans....no cares.....
For the weekend. Long story. (the cliff note version: #1 daughter was doing laundry--something went kahoohie with the plumbing....she ended up having to bring what seemed like everything the family owned to be washed at my house so they could get out of town to the boys' baseball game....the plumber is coming while they are gone....Derby hates the plumber.....she brought Derby over with the laundry....ta-dah, we have a weekend guest.)
Derby is OLD. No, make that OLD. Right up there with Methuselah. She's just about deaf, barks randomly because her cataracts make her nearly blind and shadows are darn scarey, and her bones and joints obviously ache more than mine. (Her down-dog looks surprisingly like mine, though!) But, she's sweet beyond measure and over the years, we've all figured out what all her yips, barks, and deep sighs mean----and she put them all to use ALL NIGHT LONG. Big breath in......deep s-i-g-h....means 'i really need to go out and prowl around---right now---and i'll keep sighing until you let me out.' (There's a cute, pitiful little 'jump' that goes with the sigh.) This was at 3 am. OK. Out she went. And then I remembered a friend who found a neighbor's OLD lab drowned in his pond one morning. We have a little mini-water-thing....big enough that Freddie's predecessor fell in and couldn't get out---and that's another story, fortunately with a happy, if muddy, ending. But, that's ALL I could think about. Derby and falling in the 'pond'. She couldn't hear me calling. So, there I am, hunting for a black, blind, deaf dog on a starless, moonless black night--in my jammies. Not an easy find--- she was behind the greenhouse...NO one goes behind the greenhouse--YUK. Another happy ending. Phew.
So, when she wasn't yipping, barking, or s-i-g-h-i-n-g---she was click-click-click-clinking throughout the house on the hardwood floors. (She doesn't sleep over often....I'm sure she was just exploring.)
He didn't get any more sleep last night than I did. (He's made it quite clear that this was NOT a play date and NOT his idea. He has absolutely nothing to do with her, hovers ever so close, and almost whines if I pat her and tell her, good girl. Jealous? Oh, yes. Angry? You bet. She eats all his food.)
:: the 'stash closet' didn't get cleaned out
:: the herb garden didn't get weeded
:: the stuff for the church yard sale didn't get sorted
:: the bread I had briefly considered making didn't get made
:: the nap I was sure I was going to take never happened
I really didn't want to do any of that stuff anyway (except maybe the nap).
But, isn't it nice to have a scapegoat?