Trampoline Trials

I find that as I get older and wiser, there are more and more things for which that I wish I could go back in time or retroactively apologize.

When I was growing up in England, our neighbourhood had a lot of kids. We would run around during the summer until all hours, playing our kid games and just having a fine old time. There would be other days where we’d do things like catching bumblebees off our neighbours’ lavender bush. There would be other days where we’d ride our bikes like demon riders, screaming and shouting the whole time. We’d play games like tennis and cricket and rounders and inevitably our ball would end up in the next-door neighbour’s garden and we’d have to ask for it back.

One of our neighbours was an old lady named Mrs. Olly. She didn’t like us much and we dreaded asking her for our ball back. She would shout at us and tell us to stop making so much noise. We used to laugh at her and dare each other to go get the ball.

Nowadays, I feel a little more sympathy for poor Mrs. Olly. I didn’t see this coming. One day, I’m a care free child, not worrying about the rest of the world around me, living in the now and just having a good time. Then, thirty years later, I’m seeing things through another point of view: That of a neighbour who’d just like a little peace from the neighbourhood kids.

It makes me feel rather bad for Mrs. Olly. I’ve had a few occasions where Son of Dog Whisperer is playing catch with himself in the back yard and he’s thrown the ball in my garden. Since the incident where he left my back gate open after, I suspect, retrieving his ball from my yard, I’ve chained that particular gate so that it doesn’t get left open again. This, however, means that whenever Son of Dog Whisperer’s ball lands over the fence into my garden, he comes to my front door, rings the bell and I have to go retrieve it.

It’s not so bad unless I’m trying to do something like cook dinner or read. However, I definitely have a little more sympathy and a whole lot more guilt towards doing the same thing to poor old Mrs. Olly. I know, I sound like a curmudgeon. I probably am a curmudgeon.

It’s just that I tend to try to be quite tolerant in the beginning. Sometimes, I tend to be too tolerant of the neighbour kids. See the Lemonade Stand Incident. Also, this weekend, I sold an old Game Boy at my yard sale for a very good price and I gave the kid a game to go with it it. He’s a young teen who lives three doors down from me. Yesterday, just as I’d finished breakfast, my doorbell rang. He wanted to know if I had any more games for the Game Boy he’d bought from me. Politely, I said I’d look and I’d let him know next time I saw him which is pretty often since I walk by his house with the dogs every day.

I did look for more games because I promised even though I think I only ever had three to begin with and I’d sold them at the yard sale. I figured I’d tell him that he was out of luck. I couldn’t help feeling it was a little assumptive in the first place to go ask someone that after the yard sale is done but he’s about 13 and that isn’t always the most common sensical age for boys.

I didn’t have to wait. He rang my doorbell just a couple of hours later, following up. He seemed very disappointed that I didn’t have any more games but I did tell him to look on Ebay. He bought the Game Boy, the game and the charger with a nice case for $5 so it wasn’t like I’d ripped him off. I only hope that he doesn’t come back to triple check. I don’t know how many ways I can tell him no without being a little short about it.

Still, he seems like a nice boy even if he is a bit persistent. I don’t mind him as much as I’m starting to mind Son of Dog Whisperer. I try very hard to be friendly to the child. I know he has some type of learning disability and, frankly, he’s a bit of a weird kid. Yet I try to treat him nicely even when he bugs the crap out of me. I do find it a wee bit disconcerting when he stands in the middle of my lawn, doing that “HUT!” thing with his football while appearing to stare in my window. Sometimes, when he’s playing alone, he plays with a light saber and he just walks up to me when I’m working outside, doesn’t say anything, points the light saber at me and walks away, muttering something incomprehensible.

All this, I can deal with. It’s just when he’s with his little pack of ruffian friends that I’m starting to get annoyed. In general, as a pack, they have that arrogance that only packs of children can have. They ride their bikes in the road with that confidence that the cars will swerve to avoid hitting them so they don’t really have to look where they’re going. Sometimes, one of the older girls will ride her bike, pulling a younger one who is crouched on a skateboard, behind her. They’re connected by a long rope and there are times when the skateboard is on one side of the intersection and the bike at the other. It scares me and I’m not even sitting on the damn skateboard but the kids seem to think it’s fun. All it would take is one of the cars to zoom through the neighbourhood, unfamiliar with its layout and geography of our Stop Signs and that child would be in some serious trouble.

The two little girls are siblings to Kenny who appears to be Son of Dog Whisperer’s BFF. As a group, they’re loud and obnoxious. They have no problem yelling at people when they pass by. They leave crap all over the path ways and their bikes are often cast aside wherever they feel like jumping off and running.

All this, I could deal with. It is annoying but I figure it’s penance for the years of my wild childhood and playing in the streets.

Now, it’s got worse. Son of Dog Whisperer now owns a large trampoline. The trampoline sits in the back yard. It’s got one of those ‘safety’ nets around it though I’m not sure what purpose it serves as the kids seem to be able to climb under the net and it doesn’t seem to be very stable.

For the past three days, those kids have squealed and screamed and run around Son of Dog Whisperer’s back yard like a pack of wild hyenas. They bounce and squeal. They fight constantly. They throw things at one another. Then they bounce so more.

I suppose from the point of view of his parents, buying the trampoline seemed like a good idea. Son could get some exercise and have something outdoors to do with his friends. Yay, trampoline.

Though…not yay. I can tell you what will happen. For the first few weeks, Son of Dog Whisperer and friends will bounce a lot. They will view it as a novelty. Then…they’ll get bored. The weather will get cold and that giant trampoline will sit there, gathering puddles, killing the grass underneath and just basically being a giant space-waster.

My sister has a trampoline. I’ve had friends who had trampolines. Unless a child aspires to be a professional trampoline-ist, chances are that bouncing will get old quite quickly. It’s like bouncing on the bed as a kid. It seemed like fun for a while but then it ended up being rather monotonous and that was that.

I know, I know…I sound REALLY crotchety, cranky and old. It’s just that for the entire duration of living in my house, I’ve suffered the yipping and barking of the Beasts of Dog Whisperer. There’s no control there. No matter how much I try to befriend the dogs, they keep yipping at me. Son of Dog Whisperer has been a wee bit of a pain but until the trampoline, it was easy to escape from.

Now, he and his friends are outside ALL the time. Good for parents of the child. Not so good for me who enjoys a little sanctity by looking at my vegetables and sitting out on my patio, reading. My reading is now punctuated with BOUNCE-SQUEAL-“HEY LOOK AT ME!”- “YOU’RE A DORK”- “NO, YOU’RE A DORK!” “WELL, YOU’RE A GIRL. GO AWAY. BOYS ONLY!”

I’m trying to be tolerant but, alas, it’s hard. There’s no escape and there’s very little I can do. The child is entitled to his trampoline. He’s entitled to play with his friends. He’s even bloody well entitled to that lemonade stand of his. It’s just that there are times when I can’t help but wish the neighbours could have a say in what’s allowed and what’s not. I can guarantee that those dogs wouldn’t be so noisy and there’d be no trampoline, that’s for sure.

Still, for now, I’m starting to contemplate that privacy fence again. I’m also mentally atoning for all of the times I probably had the same effect on my neighbours when I was a child. It’s a vicious cycle and now I feel bad. Poor Mrs. Olly and the other sufferers of our childhood oblivion.

I suppose the small thing to be thankful for is that we never had a trampoline because then, I’d feel really bad.

Ok…that’s my complaining for the day. It is Monday, after all…tomorrow will be better and Wednesday even best because that’s when the kids go back to school.

Poor kids. Happy Neighbours. I can live with that.

Happy Tuesday!

People Studies: Lessons from a Yard Sale

So, I had my yard sale this weekend. It went about as smoothly as any yard sale could go. Having been to quite a few garage/yard sales in the past, I've learned what works and doesn't work and I was well prepared for mine.

It actually went off without any hiccups. It was supposed to be the annual neighbourhood yard sale but there weren't many participants. The first year I lived here, there were a ton of sales. Last year, there were less. This year, there were even less. However, I was fortunate enough to be part of a cluster. There was one next door at Mr. Enormous Trouser's house and two across the street at the older folks' homes.

Being in a cluster is good. When I got yard/garage sale-ing, I look for clusters. It makes it worthwhile to find somewhere to park becuase you're getting more for your time.

I did have an early start to the day. My intention was to take the girls for a walk and check out to see how many sales looked like they were going to be set up. Then I'd come home and set up since the sales weren't supposed to start until 9 a.m. It was a little alarming that by 7:15 a.m. when we started on our walk that both Mr. Enormous Trousers and the lady across the road were already setting up but we went for our walk anyway. I did notice that as we walked on by, some 'early birds' were already converging on the lady across the street's sale. This was the reason I had planned on setting up later. Also, since Mrs. Enormous Trousers is an Avon lady, that's primarily what they sell at their sale and it takes a lot more time to set up than my bric-a-brac.

However, I set up by 8:30 a.m. and was ready for my first customers who arrived as soon as I went to sit in my chair and peruse my magazine. My last customers came right aroun 1:45 p.m. In between the first and last, I learned a lot about people. I think if you want to study human beings, having a yard sale is a great way to do so. Here are a few things I learned:

1) People are very, very cheap. Sure, they pretend that they're just like to get a bargain but what this means is that they're cheap. If I'm selling a high quality musical piano for $30 when it costs about $120 brand new, NO, I WILL NOT sell it for $5. Be realistic. Yes, ok, so I came down to $20 because a young boy fell in love with it and both his parents were encouraging and, well, I'm a sucker but $5? Come on.

2) See #1. I had lots of nice messenger bags to sell. Some even had the tags still on them. I was selling them because I simply didn't need them nor do I have the space. When they're priced at $1 and they have a TAG ON THEM that says they were originally $10, do you really think I'm going to be happy when you offer me $.25? Come on. It's a dollar.

3) People are cautious. Someone asked if I had bedbugs before she purchased some books. Firstly, ewww! Secondly, even if I HAD bedbugs, do you really think that I would confess it in front of a yard full of people browsing my stuff? Thirdly, ewww! (I don't have bedbugs, for the record). Of course, as fate would have it, my nice Terminex inspector did decide to come and check up on the house after the problem back in May DURING MY YARD SALE but fortunately, she wasn't in her company truck and secondly, she came during a quite time. Oh...Murphy, your laws are funny.

4) People are discriminating. I had a little side table that I got for $12 at IKEA and was in mint condition (AND ASSEMBLED, take that, IKEA!) that I was selling for $2. I thought that was reasonable. I also used the table to display other items for sale. I had one lady take everything off said table, flip the table upside down, inspect it for about five minutes, put everything BACK on the table and then sigh and walk off. Lady, it was a $2 table, you're not going to find a designer stamp on it. Sorry.

5) People always have a story. I had a lovely dog carrier on sale. I originally paid $45 for it and got it for Sookie when I went to claim her. Since I ended up coming home with a Rory and a Sook, it was already too small. I had it up for sale with the original tags and paperwork for $20. A lady came and asked if I'd take $10. I said no. Then she launched into a story about her friend who rescued baby animals like racoons, possums and skunks. She works for a non-profit, has no funds to buy stuff but does it because she loves animals. I said I could take $15. We ended up at $12. What can I say, I'm a sucker. Also, I happen to think baby racoons are adorable and living with my parents who live on a major highway, we did have a few occasions where we were asked to foster baby racoons after their mothers were hit on the road and they were left abandoned so she hit a personal note. The lady was nice and even came back to thank me again and tell me all about her own experiences as a skunk rescuer/expert. She studies skunks.

6) People are cheap (yes, I know, I covered this in #1 and #2) but it's still true. I'm sorry but a Sony Playstation One with controller, power adapter and two games is a bargain at $5. Sure, the Playstation One is out of date and irrelevant but you can still find games on Ebay and it still works. I'm sorry but no, I will not take $1 for the whole pack. The same goes for the 27 inch TV I was selling and had marked at $10. It's a working TV that served me well for the entire time I lived in L.A. and until last year when I caved and upgraded to an HDTV. I will NOT take $1 for the TV. I did end up taking $7.50 but that was only because it was really heavy and I didn't fancy lumping it back inside.

7) Kids can be cute. I had a box of toys with an old pirate sword I had for a costume once. A little boy who was about five saw it and his entire face lit up. He literally dived into the box to claim it and he was NOT letting that go for anything. He even looked suspicious that I'd take it back when he proudly came to give me his quarter. The same goes for the little girl who couldn't have been older than four who proudly picked out an old Eeyore, Teletubby and a bear from my toy box and was so excited when I said she only had to pay fifty cents even though they were a quarter each. Kids can be so cute.

8) Kids can be a pain in the rear. Son of Dog Whisperer and his friends drive me a little crazy. For one thing, Son of Dog Whisperer oddly decided that my front lawn was his 'football practice field' at about 9:30 a.m. He proceeded to put his football down and do that thing that football players do at the beginning of the game- you know, where they're leaning with one arm down on the ball and the other pointed to the sky right before they do that "Hut" thing? Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, Son of Dog Whisperer kept doing this except he just stayed in that pose for quite some time. It was a wee bit creepy, truth be told. I was a little annoyed he was on my lawn but since he wasn't doing any harm, I figured I'd let it go. Of course, that was before he actually started throwing the ball. At one point, he threw it and it hit some of my yard sale stuff at which point I told him he needed to stop throwing the ball and go play in his own yard. He did stop throwing the ball but didn't get out of my yard. The annoying part is that at some point, BOTH Of his parents were outside, doing stuff and only one time did Wife of Dog Whisperer say "Did you ask [captain monkeypants] if you could play in her yard?". When Son of Dog Whisperer said no, that was it. There was no scolding, no "Well, you should." It was clearly a formality that his mother asked. Even if I did tell them that I'd prefer it if he stayed off my lawn, it wouldn't stick. I know Son of Dog Whisperer has some kind of learning disability so I feel doubly bad for being such an old curmudgeon but, well, it's MY lawn...They have their own yard.

7) People can be creepy. There were a couple of older men who were walking around the sales. Two of them seperately sidled up to the table where I was sitting, looked around shiftily and asked if I had "any gold or guns?" Well, no...sorry, I'm not a gold and guns kind of gal. One of the men was quite persistent about the gold. He wanted me to go in my house and check. He even showed me his little scale where he could weigh my non-existent gold. Since I'm not in possession of much gold, I tend to prefer silvery jewelry over gold and most of my jewelry isn't exactly high quality anyway, I didn't oblige. Besides, I wasn't about to abandon my yard sale to find gold for Mr. Creepy. I had at least two others come by later and ask if I had any gold or guns. It sounded a bit too Old West for me, honestly. What, do they think I've got a collection of Smith and Wesson rifles and gold bullion bars under my floorboards?

8) If it's free, someone will want it. I had a set of curtain rods with brackets that I took down from my Tuscan room when I redid it. They were sturdy and in good shape but no one wanted them for $2. Later, when it was getting obvious I'd be making a Goodwill run to donate the stuff I didn't sell, I marked the curtain rods as free since I wouldn't get anything by giving them to Goodwill. Lo and behold, within seconds, someone took them. I know it's a bad economy but they were only $2 to begin with!

9) No matter how cheap something is, someone always wants it cheaper. I was offered a dime a couple of times for an item I'd priced at a quarter. Yes, this is a variation on #'s 1,2 and 6 but...well, I know people like to bargain and get a deal but, really, you don't think a quarter for something is a deal? Really? Even when it's in the original packaging and looks pretty new? A dime? Really? Sigh.

10) People buy the stuff you don't expect to sell and leave the stuff you had trouble deciding to sell anyway. I had a few treasures that I had reluctantly decided to sell because I didn't use them much and they took up space even though I liked them. No one wanted these. They wanted the, uh, junk I had decided to try to sell and intended to donate afterwards. This included the pair of slightly-too-big hideous patent leather shoes with a giant bow that I had bought used for a 1980's costume party ($1!), the terrible French cookbook that was only $1 from the dollar store and proved to be...terrible (I got my $1 back!) and the shower curtain rings that were a pretty bronze colour but were terrible because a) they weren't closed all the way and whenever you opened the shower curtain, they'd slide off the rail. Also, they left a nasty brown powdery residue where they rubbed against the shower curtain rail. I made $2 on those! Meanwhile, my lovely Mikasa Christmas oil/vinegar/salt/pepper cruet set didn't sell for $3 (I decided to keep it after all) nor did my nice new-ish pink and khaki messenger bag for $1. That old "Someone else's junk is someone else's treasure thing is very true."

All in all, it was a successful sale. I sold 75% of everything, made a little money though, because people are (say it with me) cheap, I didn't make as much as I should and I had a nice time meeting some of my neighbours. Of course, I did have two sulky dogs who couldn't figure out what I was doing out there all day and I got quite sunburned because after a while, you cannot scoot back under the overhang of the house anymore without being indoors- thus, I was in the sun a lot. Sure, Son of Dog Whisperer did eventually find his 'posse' which, sadly, still doesn't include Raymond and they converged on my sale, threw a bunch of the toys on the floor and then ended up only buying one weird little dolphin snowglobe thingy for 25 cents but it was an interesting day. Afterwards, I confess, I was a little exhausted but there was something satisfying about taking my last few boxes of stuff to Goodwill and knowing that even by just a little, I'd decluttered my house a bit.

It's entirely possible that I'll build up more clutter over the next year and decide to have another sale when the next Annual Neighbourhood Sale date comes around next year. I think if that happens, my strategy will be to double the price on everything so that when people offer me less, it'll seem like a deal to them even though I'll secretly be making what I actually wanted to make on an item. You live and learn...right?

Happy Monday!

Groundhog...Day

So, apparently, there is a groundhog running rampant around our neighbourhood. According to Larry the Potential Serial Killer, it has done major damage to his garden and he is not a happy camper.

Larry the Potential Serial Killer is precisely one of those people who actually says, “I am not a Happy Camper” (and it sounds capitalized when he says it, too). He actually sounds rather a lot like Ned Flanders from “The Simpsons” and even salutes me with a “Howdy, stranger” when he seems me walking with the pups. He’s very much a “gee-whizz”er meaning that he says things like “gee whiz- that groundhog surely is a nasty critter!”

I feel bad for Larry. He’s rather upset. The mean groundhog ate all his ‘sweet pertaters” and beans. He had apparently planted his sweet pertaters in a barrow and the groundhog had devoured them. I’m not quite sure why they were in a barrow but well, I’m not excited Captain MonkeyPants of the Greenthumb. I like to garden but my knowledge of gardening involves the following:

1) You dig a bit of ground
2) You plant a seed/bulb
3) You water it.
4) You hope it grows
5) You see weeds growing and occasionally pull them up
6) When the weeds grow out of control due to my severe case of Weed Pulling Avoidation, I half-heartedly dig over the soil where I can, slap a bit of weed control fabric over the top and cover it with pretty mulch.
7) If this is not possible because I have already planted stuff that’s overrun by weeds, I try to daintily spray weed killer on the weeds, avoiding the real plants. This inevitably doesn’t work as I usually accidentally end up killing my plants. Thus, I don’t use this method much.
8) Eventually giving up, hoping I can still pick my tomatoes and vowing to be a better weeder next year.

So, you see, while I like gardening, I’m not a die-hard gardener. I also don’t grow sweet potatoes or, even, sweet pertaters because while I enjoy the occasional yam, it’s not a huge part of my diet and I’d never really have too much use for them. Tomatoes, peppers, basil and corn, on the other hand…those I grow. You don’t really grow any of those in a barrow. I try to grow them in pots. This works well for the basil. The tomatoes start out well but end up being too big for the pot and transplanting them never works well for me.

Still, it doesn’t stop me from feeling bad for Larry. Last year, I had half my ‘crop’ devoured by a bunny including all my swiss chard, my corn and my sunflowers. It made me very unhappy. This year, thanks to the fearsome powers of Sookie and Rory, the bunny has been scarce. The one time it did appear, it was chased around frantically until the poor thing almost collapsed with exhaustion before making it out of a tiny hole in the fence. Having dogs is a good thing.

I’m hoping having the dogs means the groundhog won’t visit my garden. I do believe Larry. I’ve seen a couple of groundhogs capering around on this grassy area at the end of my neighbourhood. They’re actually quite cute. Of course, if they were eating my veggies, I probably wouldn’t feel that way. However, having seen the movie, “Groundhog Day,” one too many times, I always have the desire to yell “Don’t drive angry, Phil!” at the groundhogs. Not that I think they’d get my slightly obscure pop culture reference. Nor would they get it if they said, “I’m Ned! Ned Ryerson” or “Watch out for that last step, it’s a doozy!”

Ok, fine, I probably have seen that movie one too many times but I find the comedy of Bill Murray rather hilarious. I much preferred his “Ghostbusters”/”What about Bob”/”Groundhog Day”/”Man Who Knew Too Little” days to his deeper more artsy “Royal Tennenbaum” or “Life Aquatic” days. I miss Bill Murray although “Zombieland” made me love him again.

Sorry. I digress. I do that a lot, don’t I?

Back to the groundhog. I think I’ve actually seen the evil eater of sweet pertaters. On Saturday, I got up early and took the girls for a walk before it got too hot. There was a large furry creature ambling around across the road along with two squirrels. At first I thought it was a raccoon. It could have been a raccoon, I suppose but now I prefer to think that it was the groundhog and I saw it en route to doing more mischief.

Larry gave me the warning about the groundhog last night as I walked the girls. He was fresh off the discovery that his veggies had been devoured and he was hopping mad. The reason I know he was hopping mad was that, well, he said “I’m hopping mad!”

I do appreciate the warning because I do want to keep my precious veggies safe. I’ve worked hard to get them to wear they’re almost ready to pick and if I find a groundhog in my garden…well….I’d probably be hopping mad too. I suppose I could set Sookie and Rory on it but while they think they’re enormous tough dogs, they’re a bit smaller than a groundhog and those things have sharp teeth. Maybe they could tag team it or something.

Either way, I will be watching out for the nasty thing. The last thing I want is to come home and find out that all of my heirloom tomatoes are gone. I don’t even know if groundhogs like tomatoes but I admit, Larry the Potential Serial Killer has got me a bit nervous.

I suspect that it won’t be the last time the groundhog strikes. There are plenty of more-open gardens around the ‘hood where the vegetables are easily accessible. The horrible neighbour in me hopes that the groundhog goes for these before it goes to mine. That’s not very nice of me, is it? But fresh, organic tomatoes are serious business. Sure, you can buy them at the farmer’s market but it’s never the same as going outside, picking a ripe tomato off the vine and eating it there.

If that ground hog dares touch my tomatoes, I won’t be a Happy Camper either.
I’ll keep you posted. At least I didn’t grow sweet pertaters. It seems to like those best.

Happy Wednesday!

The Rain Mower

I know I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I live in a nice neighbourhood but I have some odd neighbours.

Sometimes, I feel as though I’m acting like my grandmother because I like to stand at the window and watch what the neighbours are doing. It’s an inherited trait. My mother does it too. Whenever there’s any excitement or, even, something ‘different’ going on, we all go to the window and have a peer out to see what’s going on.

This morning, for example, I noticed the lady across the road was rearranging her rubbish bins. She was taking bags out of one dustbin and putting them in another. This may not seem too odd but she was doing it while the trash collectors were literally waiting to take them from her to empty. I couldn’t figure out why she was doing this. At first I thought she’d dropped something that she didn’t want to get thrown out with the trash but from my perspective, it simply looked like she was playing “Rearrange the Trash Bags.” What was even more strange is that in the end, the Rumpke dustman took both cans and emptied them into the back of the garbage truck which null and voided her rearranging.

I don’t know that lady very well. When I first moved in, she left me a note saying how she’d been friends with the old lady who sold me my house and that she’d love to meet me. We did finally meet when she came over and made a point of telling me how half the plants in my garden had been transplanted from hers. She was nice but aside from her taking me to her church once, she’s pretty much avoided me ever since. I think this may have to do with the fact that I came home one day shortly after the church outing and discovered a neighbour had kindly unlocked my front door to put a package from UPS inside for me. Since I don’t like the idea of strangers having a key to my house, I changed the lock. I think it was Trash Rearranging Lady. I probably offended her. I’m not terribly upset about it, honestly.

The other odd occurrence last night was Dog Whisperer. He truly baffled me.

You see, when I got home from work last night, I decided to take advantage of the fact it wasn’t raining in order to cut my lawn. Lately, it’s been raining a lot and my lawn had become very unruly. I managed to get my lawn mowed just as thunder began to rumble in the sky.

Just as I finished mowing and was pushing my lawnmower back into the shed, I heard a lawnmower start up next door. Dog Whisperer was mowing his front lawn.

Since it was clearly going to rain, I thought that it might have been wiser to wait but, well, sometimes, I guess the urge to mow the lawn is strong. I did have a rather silly minor moment of guilt in wondering if, in my efforts to make my front lawn look nice, I’d made his lawn look even longer and ugly and so he had to go even it up in order to make it match the cut of my grass. We do have a shared strip that runs between our houses. I cut one side, he cuts the other. It makes it pretty obvious when one lawn has been mowed and the other hasn’t.

Of course, I realized my guilt was rather silly since it wouldn’t be the first time our lawns didn’t match and, really, I’m quite sure it had nothing to do with his sudden urgency to mow.

I left him to it and decided to attempt to grill the steak for my tacos quickly before the rain started to come down. By this time, Dog Whisperer had moved to his back yard. I had just pulled the steak off the grill and was trying to lightly grill the tortillas before it started to pour. Quickly, I shut the grill off, sheltered my food and went inside.

Dog Whisperer continued to mow. As I sat down to eat my dinner, the rain started to really come down. And yet, I could still hear the thrum of the lawnmower in Dog Whisperer’s yard. He was determined to mow, no matter what.

As I continued to eat, the rain got harder. It was that really, really heavy type of rain that actually bounces up again after it hits the pavement because of the force at which it is hitting. It’s the type of rain that stings and soaks you in less than 10 seconds.

And yet….the mowing continued. I got up to make sure Dog Whisperer hadn’t had a horrible mowing accident in which he slipped on the wet grass and managed to mow himself in half. I realize that this is an impossibility because you need to be holding the bar thing on the handle to keep the mower going and as soon as you release it, the mower dies. However, I have a dark imagination and I was concerned anyway.

Nope. He was still upright and mowing. He was soaked to the skin. He was hunched over. The rain was coming down so hard it couldn’t have been easy to see and yet….he didn’t give up.

I did worry a little about his mower. I know they’re waterproof to some degree but when it’s raining that hard, surely the water can’t be good for it. Also, wet grass is hard to cut because it clings and the suction of the mulching function causes the grass to clog up. In addition, it was lightning. Mowing the grass in a thunderstorm didn’t strike me as…sensible, per se. Finally, wet grass is slippery and I was a wee bit concerned that he might slip and accidentally cut off his foot. Hey, that one could actually happen.

Wet grass or no, he kept going.

I should commend his determination. I mean, he’s not a quitter. It’s just that…well….truth be told, it seemed a little daft. I couldn’t figure out why he was still going. I understand wanting to finish something up but if it had been me, I would have stopped the mower and waited out the rain.

Well, actually, if it had been me, I wouldn’t have started mowing after it was clearly starting to storm. When I did mow my lawn, the clouds were starting to roll in but it was clear that I had enough time.

Yet even though the rain came down with solid force and the world was soaking wet, Dog Whisperer was the Little Mower that Could. He didn’t give up. He kept mowing. When he wheeled his mower into the shed, he was so wet, I knew he was squelching. He’d abandoned his white t-shirt mid-mow and was mowing bare chested. If it had been ridiculously hot and he wanted to cool down, it might have made sense but, alas, it was actually quite chilly with the rain.

Still, he got his lawn mown and I guess that was important to him. I did notice today that his diagonal lines weren’t quite as straight as usual and were even a little wavery in patches but I suppose when the rain is coming down so hard that you can’t see, that’s bound to happen.

I admit, I probably shouldn’t have been quite so nosy but I was both fascinated and surprised at his dedication to his mowing. I’m quite glad he didn’t get struck by lightning. I’m also glad he didn’t mow over his foot. I am, however, quite baffled about his lawn mowing obsession. Perhaps all will reveal itself in time. Maybe he’s having a garden party directly after work tonight and it was the only mowing time he had. Of course, after the rain stopped last night probably would have been smarter, but what do I know?

Ah well, I’m sure he has his reasons and I’m sure I’ll never learn them. I suppose I could ask but, well, that might reveal me to be a nosy neighbour. It’s one thing to be a nosy neighbour and another thing to have people know you’re one.

And I’d rather do my lurking in secret. You learn more about your neighbours that way. Or, at least, you can watch them do some odd things.

Happy Friday!

Hot Days and The Politics of Childhood Friendship

It really is a hot one out there today. This morning, Mr. Weatherman said it was going to be about 95 degrees by 5 p.m. tonight but it would feel more like 100 degrees. He was right. It is a sauna out there at the moment. I’m a little amazed that he was right but, as with everything, if you try hard enough at something, eventually you are right about it once in a while.

I find super hot days like this change the vibe of a neighbourhood. Normally, when the weather is cool and manageable, my little ‘hood is full of activity. There are a lot of kids who walk home from playing baseball or basketball at the nearby community centre. There are parents fetching and driving their kids to sports, ballet and whatever activities the kids do. There is a buzz of mowers. There are people walking dogs, stopping to chat, jogging…you get the picture.

However, on hot days like this the neighborhood pretty much just stops. The lawns look dry and crispy and even those that desperately need to be mowed are ignored. There are fewer people thronging around and far more sitting on their stoops in lawn chairs, lazily watching the world. It’s like for a brief period, everything slows down.

I don’t mind it at all. I find it fascinating. People get up much earlier when they know it’s going to be super hot. When I drive to work at 7:50 a.m., there are a lot more dog-walkers and joggers than normal because they know later on it will be too hot to walk/jog.

When the heat hits later in the day, it’s hard to explain exactly how the vibe feels. The closest I can come is a scene in a movie where there has been a mass disaster that’s killed most of human life and only a rag-tag bag of survivors scuttle and hide in the buildings because, at night, the zombies come. While there are no zombies in my neighbourhood (that I know of, anyway), the deserted daytime feeling seems to be there. There is little life force outside- it’s too busy hiding inside in the sanctity of the air conditioning.

The pups and I tried to break this deserted feel last night and we went for a walk anyway since it was only 93 outside. It was still hot enough that Rory plonked herself down on the ground and decided she was too hot and tired to continue. This was about five minutes after we left the house. Normally, it takes at least ten minutes of walking.

We did run into a few brave souls who were trying to conquer the heat and work outside anyway. We met a new lady who lives in the pups favourite house- it’s got a lot of trees with squirrels and bunnies have often been sighted in the yard. She used to have dachshund so we had quite a chat. She used to have males and she told me a couple of horror stories about their viciousness that made me shudder a little because of what happened with Sausage. I do know that male dachshunds are known to be one of the more vicious breeds which is why I have females.

She was a nice lady though and we had a chat. She also told me it was quite ok if my dogs wanted to poop in her yard. I didn’t even have to clean it up. That was nice of her but I’m a firm believer in the scooping of the poop- leave no evidence behind.
We also met a rather nice, sad little boy named Raymond. He was riding his bike with a helmet on. Raymond is one of those kids you just know doesn’t have it easy. He’s a little heavyset for his age, had a slight lisp and has a wide eyed sweetness about him. Raymond asked me if I’d seen two boys on bikes. Given that Son of Dog Whisperer and his little friend had almost mowed us down on the other side of the block, I said I had seen them but I wasn’t sure if they were the same boys he was looking for.

When he told me their names, he confirmed that he was, in fact, looking for Son of Dog Whisperer and his friend. Apparently, Raymond was supposed to ride bikes with them but as soon as he’d gone to get his bike, they’d ridden off and ditched him. Just looking at him, I could see how hurt he was by this. He kept asking me where I’d seen them and I told him. They had been riding awfully fast so it was clear that for whatever reason, they didn’t want to play with Raymond.

Naturally, I felt horrible for the poor little boy. I think he is about eight or nine. He told me that he didn’t have many friends and how he thought he’d found some in Son of Dog Whisperer and his buddy. His lip quivered and my heart just went out to the poor boy. It’s been a few years since I was a kid but I remember times where I got ditched by friends or they basically ganged up and decided I wasn’t cool enough to hang out with. It’s a heavy feeling that just hangs over you and makes you feel unwanted.

There wasn’t much I could do for poor Raymond. He asked if I knew Son of Dog Whisperer and I told Raymond that he was my next door neighbour. I wasn’t sure of the politics of the friendship between Son of Dog Whisperer, his buddy and Raymond but I did ask Raymond if he wanted to ride his bike while I walked back home with the pups so I could show him where Son of Dog Whisperer lived. Raymond, lip quivering a little, was too proud to do that and I was pleased for him. Instead, he asked me that if I saw the other boys, I could please ask them to go back to Raymond’s house.

I didn’t see Son of Dog Whisperer and his friend so I couldn’t pass along the message when I took my poor, lazy, panting pups home. My guess is that if I had, the two boys would have cackled and said, “No Way.” Kids can be very cruel when they have a peer to back them up and it was quite obvious they were happy with just their own company.

My heart goes out to young Raymond. He’s the type of boy you know has a hard time making friends because he has a wee aura of neediness to him. Yet I bet he’d be a loyal friend to anyone who would let him. He also has an aura of sweetness and gentleness to him that the other two boys lack. It may sound strange and blame it on my need, as a writer, to watch and observe people. I’ve watched Dog Whisperer and his buddy and they’re a little wild- they have parents but their parents are too busy to pay much attention to what they do. This is why they can go bike riding, shoeless, shirtless around the neighbourhoods, occasionally veering into the road and always riding with determination. Raymond, on the other hand, seems well cared for- he might try to ride his bike ruthlessly without worrying about cars and such in order to keep up with his friends but, really, he’s very meticulously about crossing the street and being safe. That’s how he was last night when he talked to me. He was on the other side of the street and he looked both ways before crossing over.

I hope that Raymond finds some friends who appreciate him and won’t ditch him when they promise to play. It was hard to watch him walk off after giving me the message to deliver. His shoulders slumped and he walked with a very dejected air.

I know he’s just a strange neighbour kid but something about Raymond got to me. Maybe it was because he took me back briefly to some painful friend politics of my own childhood. Maybe it’s because no one wants to see a lonely kid. But, mostly, I think it’s because he seemed like such a sweet little boy and seeing those sad, hurt eyes made me just wish I could make Son of Dog Whisperer and his buddy change their minds and include Raymond.

But the world doesn’t work like that and I only have one side of the story. Besides, it does not do to meddle in the friendship politics of eight-year-old boys.

It still doesn’t stop me from hoping for good things for little Raymond anyway. Hopefully, the rest of the long, hot summer days will be a little kinder to him and he’ll find someone else to play with.

Although, hopefully, not all the days will be this hot. Especially as it’s not even really summer yet.

Happy Thursday!

Hot Spring Days

We seem to be having a heatwave. We’ve officially had 90 degree temperatures for a couple of days now and we’re supposed to get up near 100 degrees on Wednesday.

I’m not enjoying the heatwave. While it’s normal in July and August, it’s just plain bizarre in June. June is supposed to be a transition month- the gentle balmy spring gives way to the more aggressive temperatures of the summer. June is NOT supposed to be summer. Not yet.

It’s odd, really. In April and May, we had near-record rainfall. We haven’t had rain in quite some time. Well, that’s unless you count the odd shower we had on Saturday when I’d just put my nice furniture outside so I could work on the floor project. The sun was shining, the skies were blue and then…it rained. It was most bizarre. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t put the furniture outside, it wouldn’t have rained. It’s that whole Murphy’s law thing.

So, it’s really dry at the moment and hot. It’s also quite humid. It makes it hard to be outside for any real length of time. I try to still walk the dogs every night but I have to plan our route carefully. Rory lays down in complete protest whenever she’s hot and tired. It’s a little embarrassing when I’m walking and then, suddenly, I have a dog laying horizontally on the ground, refusing to move. I almost carried her yesterday but then I realized that it would be a little ridiculous to carry a dog when we were on a walk.

The neighbourhood seems to be suffering the heat too. There are less people out and about and more people sitting in lawn chairs. My neighbourhood seems to be very big on putting chairs on the front stoop and watching the rest of the neighbourhood. I feel as though I’m doing something wrong by sitting on my back patio in private when every other house has someone sitting outside.

The lawns are also suffering a little. Two weeks ago, there seemed to be an unspoken contest to see who could keep their lawn the shortest and tidiest. I didn’t compete. At best, my lawn looks ok but I can’t be bothered to try for those diagonal lines that seem to be in fad. Also, there seems to be a certain height of grass that the Meticulous Mowers aspire to achieve whereas my mower seems to mow on short, shorter or very short.

Now, the lawns are being left a little longer because mowing is a bit more of a challenge in this heat. In my case, I have to mow tonight because the grass is getting long and it’s inconvenient for my low-lying dachshunds as they run their normal path. I find it interesting that dogs have a regular path, by the way. My girls have a very set pattern when they get outside. The grass has a track built into it from their constant runs in this pattern. My parents’ dogs are the same way.

In this heat, the girls start out running but within moments, they become more sluggish, their tongues start lolling out of their mouths and they only give it a short time before they run inside to the cooler air conditioned shelter. Sookie will splay out on the kitchen floor which is cooler than the carpet. Rory will gorge on water and come away from the bowl still slurping so that the floor gets rather wet and drippy. Then she’ll inevitably come and try to lick me which is rather a wet experience.

Still, I’m trying not to let the heat deter me from doing stuff outside even though it’s hotter than it should be. I did plant some flowers yesterday. I need to plant some vegetables too althoughmy seedling harvest this year is pathetic. For every pack of seeds I planted, I think I got maybe 5 plants at most. I’m not sure why. I’m hoping for some zucchini, at least. I can get tomatoes and peppers from elsewhere.

It’s just that when I do garden, I come inside all sweaty and crotchety. Even when I’m working inside, that happens. My un-tiling project this weekend was in the one room of my house that wasn’t air conditioned. As a result, I’m quite glad I didn’t have anyone around to snap at and bark at- I wasn’t very pleasant. Unfortunately, during one of my waspish periods where I was very hot and rather sick of scraping tiles, Son of Dog Whisperer and his little friend rang my doorbell. They wanted me to buy a bottle of warm water for $1. They had their lemonade stand again and were trying to solicit from me. Normally, I might have been more polite but given their behavior last time combined with my rather crotchety frame of mind, I firmly told them I was too busy to mess around and they needed to not ring my doorbell again. They wanted to know what I was doing and when I told them I was redoing the floor, they started asking questions. I was a little rude, I know but I closed the door and said, “not today, sorry but I have to get back to work.”

I feel a little bad because I know I was quite mean to them but, honestly, if I didn’t tell them straight, they’d probably have started begging for money again and I was not about to indulge them. There’s a line between being cutely enterprising and being downright obnoxious and they far crossed the line last time.

Besides, it was hot and I was grouchy.

I’m trying not to become too grouchy on a regular basis even though it’s hot. I find that it doesn’t do to stay out too long in the heat. Regular air conditioning breaks are a good way to make it tolerable. Besides, this is only the start of the Dog Days of Summer and I better get used to it.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Spring will back for a little while and we’ll get our 75 degree days with a light breeze.

I’ll keep hoping as the thermometer begins to climb. It doesn’t hurt to hope…right?

Happy Tuesday!

Sticky Weather...Bad Moods

I hate it when I wake up in a bad mood. It never bodes well for the day.

It was one of those hot, sticky nights we usually don’t get until July or August. Even though I caved at put the air conditioning on for a couple of hours in the evening, the house quickly got hot and neither I nor the pups slept very well. We tried sleeping with the windows open but Sookie, ever alert, woke up at the sound of any abnormal noise on the street outside and it was hard to get back into a slumber.

It didn’t help that I had one of those dreams that felt like a movie and I was disturbed when I woke up. I don’t remember the details but had something to do with a secret government facility that kept and raised children in captivity to see what would happen if they were trained from birth to do specific functions like eat stones and things. They would torture the captives by blasting some type of evangelist sermon. There was some man who found the secret facility under the ground and he ended up breaking in and rescuing one of the captives. The rest wanted to stay so they stayed. The head of the evil operation was Laura Innes who is the actress on that show, “The Event” who’s an alien. She was also on ER as a cranky doctor.

Anyway, so you can see why sleeping wasn’t very relaxing. When I woke up, I had a headache and just generally felt tired.

The headache went away but I felt like the whole day passed in some kind of haze. I was yawny and my head felt swimmy.

The humidity outside doesn’t help, either. It just adds to the sluggishness.

As a result, I passed the day quietly in my office, getting work done but not joining in the social camaraderie of my coworkers. As a result, they all wanted to know if I was ok. This is very thoughtful of them but it’s hard to explain that some days, you just feel like being solitary and not being social.

It wasn’t a terribly social day in the office anyway. We have some days, particularly when the boss isn’t in, where we’re horrible about working and at any given time, we gather and start talking and laughing about something.

Today wasn’t one of those days though some of us did have a wee bit of gossip via email about our newest employee who doesn’t seem particularly fond of working. The thing is, when he does work, he’s very good at it. He’s got one of those ‘salesman’ personalities where he can sound like an expert even when he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

It’s just that he doesn’t really work that much. He manages to find reasons to not be in the office- he has appointments that no one can really confirm but no one can really disprove either. He has a lot of sick children. Well, actually, I think he has two children but they’re sick a lot. His wife is also sick a lot. He goes home sick a lot.

When he is at work, he can often be found watching television on his phone. This is what we were e-gossiping about today. I had noticed he was doing this last week and my fellow recruiter didn’t believe me. Today, my fellow recruiter saw our naughty employee watching TV. Now he believes me.

I’m wondering how long our lazy employee will be around. He’s not doing too badly but he’s also obviously not nearly as motivated as the rest of us. I think he likes having a job. I just don’t think he likes the work part of it much.

This was pretty much the only discussable thing in the office all day. Thus, it wasn’t just a slow day for me, it seemed.

The rest of the week is supposed to be hot and muggy. I’m not happy about this. I like spring. So far, spring has been very, very, very wet. Now it’s very, very hot and very, very muggy.

Even when I took the normally enthusiastic pups for a walk, it was clear I wasn't the only lethargic, sluggish one. We cut our walk short because Rory started sitting down in protest every few steps. Then, when Sookie started to join in, I realized it would be easier to go home. It wasn't just us, either. One of my neighbours was walking his beagle across the street from where I stood, trying to persuade the girls to get moving. The beagle decided simply to lie down in the middle of the pavement. The man tried very hard to get the dog to stand up but the beagle was not having it and it simply just lay there, looking up at his master, panting. His owner did finally get him to stand up but it clearly took effort. I tried not to smile but it was comforting to know that the heat was affecting everyone.

I want a few more weeks of spring before we’re sweating every time we move. Now that the ground is finally drying up, it’d be nice to get outside and pull some of the weeds before the heat becomes too much to bear.

According to Mr. Weatherman, it’s supposed to cool down for the weekend. It’s also supposed to rain, alas.

So, it seems my weeds may grow bigger, the ground may stay soggy and I must find things to do indoors. Fortunately, I really need to do some shopping this weekend- I pulled out my summer wardrobe last night and I realized that most of my clothes are at least 5 years old. I could really use some replenishment. Most of my clothes still fit thanks to the fact I was determined to lose some weight but they’re also faded and worn.

There…that helped. The thought of shopping definitely can help take away a bad mood. Perhaps if I get a good night’s sleep, tomorrow will be better.

Here’s hoping there’s no more government experiements in my dreams.

Happy Thursday!

Muggy Musings

Today is the first really hot day we’ve had in a very long time. Unfortunately, the heat is of the humid kind which means that the minute you walk outside, you feel as though you’re in a sauna.

I’m not a fan of humidity. Yesterday was a lovely spring day where it was warm but breezy and there was very little humidity to be found. Today, we’re in danger of storms so the humidity is piling up and making everything feel a little ominous.

It does feel stormy out there. I hope we get a giant storm, even though it means rain. I love to listen to them rage at night. Of course, the dogs don’t necessarily agree. Sookie will calmly snuggle up closer to me and hide under the covers whereas Rory will jerk awake, sit bolt upright at the first crash of thunder and then proceed to also get under the covers, usually sitting on Sookie in her rush to hide and ending up on top of my chest.

It’s quite hard to sleep like that though it is rather endearing. I’ve noticed that the dogs don’t seem to consider me much when it comes to sharing the bed. They definitely like to cuddle up to me but it’s usually in whatever position they find comfortable and it doesn’t matter if I find it comfortable. Often, I wake up to find that I have two dogs laying sprawled horizontally across the bed and I’m creeping closer and closer to the edge of the mattress.

Sometimes, one of the girls will push the other off the bed. We’ve had a couple of incidents in the night where Sookie has knocked Rory off or vice versa. I usually scoop the surprised pup back up on the bed where she sits in an embarrassed, indignant hunch until I lie back down . At this point, the offended dog will turn her back on me and move far away from me and the other pup. Of course, by morning, she’s back and curled up close.

Still, even with the occasional nocturnal Shuffling O’ the Dogs, I still am thankful that my pups are old enough to sleep through the night. My sister got a new puppy- it’s a peculiar looking thing with very long legs and a tiny body. It’s only nine weeks old which is the age at which I got Sookie and Rory. She’s going through crate training and getting up regularly to let her outside.

I’m glad those days are over for me. Many a night was I awoken by a frantic puppy that was licking me to wake me up because she REALLY needed to go outside. This was fine some times. They’d go out, do their business and we’d shuffle back to bed. On rainy nights, it wasn’t fun. For one thing, they didn’t like to go out in the rain so I’d have to go out to encourage them to go and give them a reward if they did and, secondly, we’d all go back to bed wet and soggy.

I do miss the early days of puppyhood. Like many things you see every day, I don’t realize how much the dogs have grown until I look back at puppy pictures. To me, they look the same. Then I look at photos and I see the little five pound babies who are now 14 lb adults.

They still act like puppies though. Last night, I watched them torment Dog Whisperer’s beasts who were driving me a little potty as I sat outside and tried to blog. My girls decided that since the beasts were already barking, they’d at least give them a reason to bark. Thus, Sookie proceeded to tear along the edge of the fence, get the beasts excited to the point where they started fighting and then she’d calmly break away and sit with Rory and watch.

Part of me was highly entertained and satisfied. Part of me felt a little bad that my dogs were just contributing to the normal racket that the stupid dogs provide. I’ve got to the point if I’m just outside sitting, I can ignore them. However, if I’m doing something like, say, shearing the long grass down by the fence and Dog Whisperer lets the dogs out, it annoys me because the dogs throw themselves right at the fence where I’m standing and growl at me. Then they bark. And bark. And bark. And since Dog Whisperer refuses to acknowledge the noise, I end up giving up.

I’ve mentioned it to Wife of Dog Whisperer who muttered something about bark collars and negative reinforcement but, so far, there’s no sign of the collar and the negative reinforcement seems to consist of a weak, “Fred, No!” from the back door. Occasionally Wife of Dog Whisperer will be more proactive but it’s simply not consistent enough for the dogs to grasp that it’s NEVER ok to act like a homicidal, maniacal barking fiend. Unfortunately, as I learned with Sookie and Rory, you have to keep doing something in order for the dogs to learn.

Still, for all their dog issues, at least my neighbours are nice. They loan broken lawnmowers and Wife of Dog Whisperer is nice to chat to when we both have time. Son of Dog Whisperer is a nice little boy even if he is a little…odd. He’s stopped staring at me so much and now talks to me. He often accidentally hits his ball in my garden but I figure my retrieval and return of the ball is penance for all the times my friends and I would do the same thing to our neighbours when we were kids.

Besides, walking around the neighbourhood with the girls in the evenings, I see that there are lots of houses with lots of yappy dogs so it’s not just me. Granted, I REALLY wish that strange dogs that aren’t on a leash would stop chasing us and making us flee but, well, it makes me more alert even if it is a little terrifying. It’s happened three times now and I really don’t like it. I feel like an idiot when I run away but when you have a full-sized German shepherd lunging at two terrified dachshunds with no weapon or defense, all you can do is run.

Although I think I am going to start carrying my little squirt bottle again. Just to be safe.

Ah well, at least life in my neighbourhood is never dull, even on hot and muggy days!

Happy Wednesday.

Concrete Pig and Other Walking Adventures

This has felt like quite a long week. I don’t know if it’s because the weather has been so much like spring and I’m feeling more trapped indoors than usual or it has, in fact, been a long week.

Still it’s Friday tomorrow and that means that the reset button will be pushed and work won’t begin again for two days. There are far worse things in life than a weekend.

So far, my weekend is wide open. It’s supposed to be beautiful on Saturday and rainy on Sunday. Of course, today’s forecast was for it to be near 70 degrees and sunny when, in actually, the thermometer is lurking right around the 58 degree mark and it’s gloomy and rainy looking out there.

I’m hoping it doesn’t rain. It’s been nice to be able to walk the pups around the neighbourhood each night when I get home from work. For a while, we seem to have been the lone walkers and though we might run into the odd neighbour or squirrel, there haven’t been many dogs and their owners walking. Last night, that changed. The weather was lovely so it must have seemed like a good walking opportunity for everyone else in the neighbourhood. Thus our normally peaceful soujourn around the ‘hood turned into a case of “dodge the other dogs.”

With Rory, that’s easy. She’s a peaceful little soul, happy to sniff the path on which we walk, wag her tail at squirrels and to check and make sure I’m still behind her at certain intervals. Sookie, it’s not so easy. Sookie has become far more worried about other dogs over the winter. Before, she used to get a little worried as we passed other dogs on leashes. Now, she gets very upset and barks and tries to chase them.

It’s a little stressful as a dog owner. I know the correct response is not to yank her back on the leash but, instead, condition her to look at me instead of at the other dogs. However, we’re at the beginning of that training so at the moment, she’s going a little ballistic.

I’m noticing that a lot of dog owners and their canines are crossing the street before they pass us so we don’t have an up-close-and-personal growling and lunging encounter. I choose not to take this personally because I’m noticing that the other dogs are going just as crazy as Sookie when they see not only my girls but any other dogs in the neighbourhood. This does not even include the dogs that are home as we walk by.

My neighbourhood can only be described as “dog friendly.” For every three houses, there seems to be at least one dog. We have come to recognize the house where the giant, angry German shephards live and we’ve come to expect that they’ll hurl themselves against the fence to try to get out to chase us. We know where our friend, the beagle with the mournful bark, lives. We say hi to him because he’s sweet and friendly and we can tell he’s just saying hello when he barks. The big black dog of unknown parentage is another story. He is mean. He can also jump rather high. I’m a little worried about him because his growl and bark is definitely very hostile. Sookie, who somehow is ok with the confined dogs, does not like him. As soon as he hurls himself at the gate as though to jump over and get us, she looks up at me, her ears go flat and she growls in defense.

We walk by that house quickly.

We’ve also taken to walking quickly by the house with the concrete pig. It’s a cute lawn statue that’s not quite life-sized but still a substantially sized pig. Sookie does not like this pig. She has decided that Concrete Pig is her enemy. She is not afraid of Concrete Pig but she does try to go after it the same way she does with the broom when I’m sweeping the floor at home. That is to say, she bravely lunges at it when it’s not moving but as soon as I start sweeping, she runs away in fear. With Concrete Pig, she edges close to it and barks her “I’m not afraid of you,” woof but if I so much as say “Oink!” in response, she’s backed away quicker than if you can say, well, “Oink.”

The one lady I will always make sure we don’t encounter too closely is the lady who, at first, I thought was a professional dog walker. She has five large dogs and one small one that she somehow manages to guide around the block quite regularly. It turns out…they’re all hers. They’re rather angry dogs and I’ve seen her get pulled along behind them as they spot some prey down the street. Thus, we make sure to make her walk easier by getting out of her way as well as making it less terrifying for the pups.

Mostly, our neighbourhood dogs are friendly so it’s not a huge problem. I’d just like to be the pet parent with the well-behaved dogs, not the growler who doesn’t play well with others.

In short, the warm weather is nice but it’s made our solitary walks a little less solitary. I suppose with the warmer weather, that’s to be expected. It’s just something we’ll have to get used to. I’m hoping Sookie gets used to the company too. She tends to be ok when we go over the park after we’ve passed by a certain number of dogs. She settles down. Thus, I know it’s possible. It’s just going to take a little training, that’s all.

Sometimes, I really wish I lived next door to the real Dog Whisperer. That would make life easy. Also, it’d make life much quieter because it would mean there weren’t three yappy dogs next door.

Still, if life was that easy, it wouldn’t be much fun…would it?

It might be a little quieter though!

Happy Friday and have a great weekend!

Neighbourhood Dangers!

It has come to my attention that walking in my neighbourhood with puppies is actually relatively dangerous.

The most usual common danger is usually minor. It's just more inconvenient than anything else. It's usually just Larry-the-Potential-Serial-Killer laying in wait for the girls and I as we round out our walk by trying to dash past his house with some trepidation. He lives on a corner, you see. I've actually tried to avoid his corner by taking a different route home but my little puppies can be rather stubborn. They don't like to go in a different direction to what we're used to. Either that or the smell of squirrel isn't strong enough in the new way for them to feel like going that direction.

So, usually, I resort to walking by Larry-the-Potential-Serial-Killer's house at a bit more of a rapid pace than usual in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, we won't be spotted.

Nine times out of ten, we're spotted. It looks like Larry isn't home. His garage door is closed. His car is not in the drive. His back door is closed. I heave a sigh of relief and start to tell the girls that 'yay! we made it!' in a quiet whisper and..then…

Larry-the-Potential-Serial-Killer appears. Out of nowhere.

Well, actually it's from his back yard but that doesn't sound so dramatic. Either way, unless we want to look horribly rude which, as an Englishwoman, is not something I like to do, I usually have to at least say a polite hello.

Unfortunately, it's never just a polite hello. I try to keep walking and he's there in his usual up-too-close-and-personal manner, wanting to either talk about the Dog Whisperer's beasts or ask me about a plant or something. Silly me made the mistake of joining in a discussion with him about his yard which revealed I had Gardening Knowledge. I usually get my Gardening Knowledge from my mother. But I do have some.

Larry, it seems, does not have Gardening Knowledge. Or, if he does, he pretends he doesn't just so he has an excuse to talk. Last time, it was his shrub rose-bush. He didn't know it was rose. Or he pretended not to, anyway. Personally, the presence of roses and thorns should have tipped him off but what do I know? Maybe in Larry's world, roses aren't the same as the roses I know. I didn’t ask. It would have taken too long to get an answer. Larry is rather detailed, you see.

So, normally, we try to skip talking to Larry since it usually results in the puppies getting bored and restless. Actually, it results in all of us getting bored and restless but, not being a cute puppy, I can't exactly lie down on the ground and pretend to sleep like they do.

Yet, Larry isn't the only danger in the neighbourhood. Now it seems we have to look out for mad male dachshunds.

Last night, you see, we decided to leave The Odious One in peace for a while and go for a walk. Well, I should say, I decided to give him some peace. Rory and Sookie are attempting to be good but they still can't resist giving Odie an enthusiastic greeting every time he moves. Giving that Odie won't sit still and enjoys either following me everywhere or trying to find an escape route, he's making himself a moving target.

So, I decided he'd be fine if I left him home alone and took the girls for a walk.

Well, he was fine. The girls, however…well they had a scare.

It began after I decided to extend our normal walk to the longer version which is three blocks instead of one. The girls like walking now, ever in search of bunnies and squirrels, so they don’t mind the extra distance.

We met a new neighbour last night. He was sitting on his front lawn, just relaxing. He was very nice and very excited to see my pups. It turns out, he, too, has black-and-tan, sibling dachshunds, just like me. He wanted his dog to meet my girls so he brought out Odin, the male sibling. Odin has quite a story. He escaped not too long ago and went missing. The owner put up fliers all over the area and advertised in the newspaper. Odin was missing for three weeks and then, one day, his owners got a call that his dog had been picked up by a repairman in a van and rescued. Apparently, Odin had two rows of puncture wounds in his side and a deep gash on his throat. The repairman found out that Odin was missing and he was able to reunite owner and dog.

Odin's owner took him to the vet for the puncture wounds and the vet told him that he'd actually been picked up by a bird of prey. The punctures were talon marks and the gash was from the beak. Obviously, Odin had been too long and bulky to go far but the attempt had been made.

I was fascinated. Who doesn't like a good "Dog gets Lost and Makes it Back Home" story? It's even better when a ferocious and ambitious villain such as a hawk is involved.

The trouble is that Odin didn't appear to be a very nice dog. Rather than greet my girls nicely, he immediately tried to bite them. His owner scooped him up but Odin did NOT want to be held. He wanted to snarl. His owner finally put him in the house. I was glad. I was happy that Odin had found his way home but rather glad Odin was not my dog.

We went on our way. All of a sudden, after we were halfway down the street, I hear the shout of "Odin, No!"

Odin was running towards us, having escaped again. At first, he seemed to be friendly, as if curious about my pups. Then he started to growl and before I knew it, he was lunging for Rory. His owner, not far behind, was yelling. I stupidly reacted from instinct and grabbed his collar. I know that's a no-no for breaking up a dog fight but, fortunately, I didn't get bitten. I did, however, managed to hold off Odin from Rory and Sookie who were now whimpering and terrified.

His owner caught up and was clearly mortified and upset. He was extremely apologetic. He finally took Odin and left us in peace. I managed to pick up each puppy and cuddle them which seemed to settle them down. I think, in the end, I was more alarmed than they were.

We managed to finish our walk and even avoid Larry which was definitely welcome after such a traumatic interlude. Rory and Sookie seemed recovered by the time we got home. I, however, find that I'm more wary of male dachshunds than ever. It doesn't help that Possibly-Joe the plumber's girlfriend also has an older male dachshund and he sometimes brings him to our shared fence to meet the girls. This dog inevitably snarls at my pups and snaps at them. Combined with the rather scary violence of Sausage, I think I'll definitely stick with female dogs. My puppies are very sweet and have great temperaments which is why I don't understand why the two other dachshunds they've met have been so rude to them.

All in all, I think for now, we'll be a little more careful around the neighbourhood, just in case Odin the Mad Male Dachshund gets out again. Perhaps I'll take my little squirt bottle with me next time, just in case.

Hmm….I wonder if that would work on Larry.

Happy Wednesday!

Days of Unaccomplishment

Today was a muddle at work. It was one of those days where you go into work with a mental list of things you plan to accomplish and as soon as you settle in for the day, you realize that it's not going to be that kind of day.

I ended up getting little bits of everything done but no overall progress, if that makes any sense at all. By the time I left this evening, I felt like I hadn't done much but the day went so fast, I must have done something.

Of course, part of my day was spent watching 'practice' presentations from those who are going to be presenting at our conference next week. One of them was good, one of them was awful. I might be a little bias because the awful one was for the software that I've always presented in the past and feel like it's my jurisdiction. Our staff member who is going to present it is one of the few people in our company I really don't like mostly because he's horribly arrogant and condescending. Case in point: Last time I had to do a co-presentation for one of our awful staff in-services, he made a point of asking my co-presenter and me questions and then, as I started to answer, he'd completely ignore me and direct the question at my boss.

Anyway, his presentation today was definitely a little...bad. It was clear that he was winging it instead of actually having prepared and, as is his habit, if he noticed something he didn't like, he didn't accept it as part of the software the developers have spent so long building and I've spent so many hours documenting and testing. Instead, he demands that changes be made because he doesn't like it and it's not the same as the old version.

That's my biggest problem with him, I think. He's been working with the software for a very long time and he's used to the old version. We've built a new version and even though I think it's good to improve things, he's such a stick-in-the-mud, creature of habit that he doesn't stop and see if he likes the change. Instead, he says, "it's not the same. We need to fix it."

He does that a lot. I tried to watch his presentation through unjaded eyes but, alas, I failed. It also doesn't help that he thinks he's a good presenter and he's actually extremely boring and he mumbles. I ended up planning my dinner (salad, sausages on the grill, corn on the cob and mushrooms) and coming up with new ideas for my novel. It was actually quite a productive session.

We have more practice presentations to sit through tomorrow. I'd like to say it'll be a nice diversion but at the moment, I've actually got a project to work on that makes me happy and I would rather spend the time working on it. I get to learn all about ethical hacking and try to find ways to break our software. I think I already accidentally did last week when I was dabbling with some of the techniques I was reading about. Oops.

Still, the day did go fast and when I came home to the puppies, it didn't seem so long since I'd seen them since lunch whereas some days it seems like forever. I decided to spend the evening making up for my lack of accomplishment at work so I cut down the pampas grass that's been growing steadily taller and more unruly as the days pass. I ended up hacking it down completely. I'm not a fan of it and it makes my garden look messy. I'd like to dig it up and plant a tree and shrubs there.

It took a while but the grass is no more. I'm a wee bit worried about how the neighbours will take it- it seems to be the way they identify where I live: "You're the one with that tall grass plant in your yard." Now I have no tall grass plant. Also, the lady across the road was super good friends with the former owner of my house and she was the one who gave her the grass to plant in the first place. I'm not a huge fan of this neighbour anyway. At first, she seemed nice but I've realized she's not terribly impressed by me. After the first time I met her and she insisted on showing me around her immaculate garden and then insisting she saw what I'd done with mine last year, I think I disappointed her. At the time she came over, I'd only been living here a couple of months and though I'd started on the garden, it wasn't exactly my top priority. I didn't see her again after that until just after I got Sookie and Rory. She's the only person who has met them that didn't say, 'aw, how cute.'

In fact, I could see the disapproval in her eyes as she said, "they're going to tear up your yard." Last time I saw her, she said to me, 'if you need help with that tall grass in your front yard, let me know." If it had been anyone else, I would have been pleased at the offer. However, I know it was her way of saying, "your grass is tall and ugly and you need to fix it." I know this because she's what I call a 'jellyfish' who slams you when you're least expecting it. I noticed that when I first got to know her.

Thus, I managed to do something with the tall grass. I probably should just have trimmed it as she'd thought I would but, nope, I decided that this is my house and there's no point in keeping something the neighbour gave the former owner just because I'd feel bad. I won't mind if a little of it grows back but it was just out of control.

So, I did manage to accomplish something today which feels better. I'm hoping tomorrow at work will be a more productive day but I have a feeling that as the conference draws ever closer, things are going to get even more frantic and even those of us not attending will be expected to drop everything to assist.

But, in the end, it means next week should be super quiet at work since over half our staff will be gone. I intend to make the most of that time. I might even get to be productive.

Happy Wednesday and thanks for reading!

Dog Walking Encounters...

It was another sunny, warm day today. It was, in fact, quite beautiful outside. I think spring is definitely giving way to summer, slowly but surely.

The pups and I decided to take advantage of the weather and take a walk. Generally, this is actually quite an ordeal as they absolutely despise their harnesses. Sookie runs away the minute I pull them out and I have to go outside and wait until she gets distracted by a bird, squirrel, rabbit or bug before I scoop her up and take her inside where I put on her harness with much whimpering involved.

Then, of course, I have to carry her outside because she has a fear of going through the door. I think I mentioned that I accidentally shut her tail in the door once but, in my defense, she was afraid of the door before then. Dogs have weird quirks. I used to watch Gilmore Girls- still one of my all-time favourite TV shows. Lorelei Gilmore (namesake of my Rory) had a dog named Paul Anka which was the quirkiest dog ever. He was afraid of peas and didn't like to go down steps. I used to think it was quite silly and cute but not at all realistic until I got Sookie. Sookie doesn't like to take treats from me with her teeth. She gums them and promptly drops them on the ground and then wraps her paws around them, delicately chewing away. She's afraid of her harness and the front door. She thinks when I invite her to sit up on the sofa with Rory and I that I'm going to...do something bad and she runs away. Sookie, in short, is a little quirky. And, of course, I love her dearly.

We did eventually make it outside for our walk where we managed to get about ten feet when we ran into the non-Dog-Whisperer next-door-neighbours. They're a very nice couple but very chatty. We haven't seen them in a while and so we stopped to say hi. Then they insisted on getting two of their three dogs- their corgi and their King Charles cavalier spaniel- and bringing them outside on a leash to meet the girls. This was cute at first except Rory got a little excited and started to chomp on Lance's ears. Lance is the spaniel. It's weird for me to call a spaniel lance because I have a friend named Lance and he looks nothing like a spaniel.

Lance became annoyed with Rory, naturally. He turned his back and that was that. Then the corgi came out and I can never remember his name but it's something like Timmy. Rory decided to try to bite his nose. Rory is very playful and likes to jump on things. This list of things she likes to jump on includes: the sofa, worms, birds, bumblebees, Sookie, Sookie's tail, Sookie's ears, my feet, my shoes, sticks, rocks, other dogs, other dogs' noses, other dogs' ears...you get the picture. She's a jumper.

The corgi was not impressed. He barked. Then Sookie had to bark. Sookie has a bark that could seriously break glass. It's very high-pitched. It sometimes hurts my ears. The sound shocked the dog-whose-name-is-something-like-Timmy and he backed away which prompted Rory, naturally, to try to jump on his head. To make matters worse, Son-of-Dog-Whisperer walked by with a large, orange, plastic toy pistol. He pointed it at the dogs. The corgi went nuts. Then Lance went nuts. Then Rory got excited and tried to ride on Lance's back. Lance stomped away. The corgi licked Sookie who was lying down, peacefully observing the mini-chaos. She got up and walked away.

I think my neighbours were a little sorry they'd decided to bring out their dogs. I tried to control the girls but, well, they're puppies and they like other dogs. Actually, let me correct that, they seem to like other dogs who do not yap continuously and annoy the crap out of them by standing at the fence and barking every time they move like, say, the Dog Whisperer's beasts. Of course, I may be projecting a little bit there.

Anyways, we managed to leave the neighbours with a friendly 'have a great evening' and we continued on our way. Then two bunnies happened to run across the road, chasing each other. Rory decided she had to have a bunny. Fortunately, she was on a leash and I have a pretty firm grip. Sookie laid down because that's what dogs do when they see bunnies...right? Ok, I admit...Sookie is a bit strange.

I got Rory to calm down and we continued along without incident until we go to Possibly-Joe the plumber's house. He was on his room blowing leaves off it. I'm not sure why his roof has so many leaves on it, to be honest. He doesn't have many trees around him- not ones that are tall enough to drop leaves on a house. It was a bit odd, to tell you the truth. He threw us a friendly wave but his blowing-thingy alarmed the puppies who get a bit skittish around electrical-noise-making-things. Sookie hides when I hoover the floor. Rory usually runs away although she did bravely try to bite the hoover once. Then she ran away.

We managed to get by Joe and his leaf blower thing although the girls had tangled up their leashes around my legs. This was a complicated untangling affair because I was wearing a skirt and I had to lift my legs quite high. I hope no one saw my underwear.

After Joe's place is the most precarious part of our walk...Larry the Potential Serial Killer's house. I didn't see Larry as we started to pass by. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Silly Captain Monkeypants! He was in his back yard! With visitors! He came to shout "hi" over his gate but Joe's blower was noisy and he couldn't hear my "hi" response.

So, he came running out to say hi to 'the fellas'. His guests were left behind. He greeted me with a "I haven't seen you since the last time I saw you!". Uh, yes...that is a very true statement. He seemed to abandon his guests to his back garden. Eventually, though they came out and introduced themselves as Robin and Mona.

I have absolutely no idea who Robin and Mona actually were but they seemed quite nice. They left quite quickly to pick up someone else. I was a little alarmed because Mona, the driver, had started backing up from Larry's driveway before Robin had got in and Robin had to sort of run to hop in the car. Also, since the puppies, Larry and I were standing right behind the car, it was doubly alarming. I pulled the girls to safely and Mona and Robin peeled out.

Ok, so they didn't peel out but they left in a hurry. Larry wanted to show me his "to-made-as" (translation: tomatoes). I declined. I think one of my issues with Larry is that he's an 'up close and personal' chatter. He really has no concept of "This is my space, this is your space." So, talking to him involves casually backing away. Tonight, I tried that and my flip-flops and the leashes got a wee bit tangled but, fortunately, it didn't involve any accidental underwear showing moments.

I excused us from Larry by saying that the puppies were hot and needed water which, for the record, was not a fib. It was just a very convenient reason to escape. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that Larry seemed quite disappointed. I think Larry is quite lonely. I feel sorry for him but I'm not sure I want to be that friendly to Larry, if you know what I mean.

The girls and I began our final stretch towards home. Once we got to our front garden, Sookie promptly laid down, refusing to budge. This is my cue to pick her up and carry her back through the front door. All in all, the ten minute walk took about 40 minutes tonight. Fortunately, I had time to spare and didn't have anything else planned.

As I said in my last blog, living in a neighbourhood is fun. It turns a simple walk into an adventure of sorts because you never know who you're going to meet.

Well, except for Larry. We always meet Larry.

Sigh.

Happy Wednesday!

Life in a Neighbourhood...

It's a Monday today and, at least, it didn't feel as much like one as the past couple have. It was very sunny today- sunny and hot. We seem to have moved right out of spring into full-on summer. It's nice but it's a little humid and it means the pups are getting hot and panty as they play in the yard. Fortunately, they're enamoured with ice-cubes which makes it a quick and easy treat that keeps them busy for at least a couple of minutes.

On evenings like this, I feel as though I should be outside but it really is rather hot in the sun and there are a plethora of bugs, gnats and mosquitoes out there that seem completely resistant to my bug repellant. I find that annoying. Is bug repellant just not effective or do I have some super-hero, hybrid-bugs that are invincible. Of course, if that were true, they wouldn't get splatted whenever I discover one trying to bite me. Rory and Sookie like to catch bugs- particularly spiders. It's quite handy except Sookie tries to bring them too me when they're half-alive. I'm not terribly afraid of spiders but I don't really want them, if that makes sense.

So, I'm being lazy tonight and staying inside. I want to walk the pups but I'm afraid it's a little warm and, also, creepy possible-serial-killer-man is starting to bother me. I ran into him at Big Lots the other day and he wants me to come on by and see his 'to-mad-as' which is how he says tomatoes. While I'm happy that he has planted tomatoes, they're not particularly...enthralling to see, if you know what I mean. Also, I have rows of them growing myself. I think he was just being friendly but I'd quite like to avoid popping 'round there on a regular basis. I also feel bad because I said he could have my extra zucchini plants even though he didn't know what a zucchini was (seriously). Then I ended up finding room for them and now I don't have them. I hope he doesn't come looking for them.

My neighbourhood is an interesting place to live. There's always someone doing something. Lately, my non-dog-whispering next-door neighbours have had a lot of guests. This is not particularly remarkable except the neighbours have four cars for their household and even though they park two in the driveway and two on the street in front of their house, this means their guests park in front of my house. More unusual is that sometimes, said guests sit in their car for hours. I'm not sure why. I find it very odd but since I know they 'belong' to the neighbours, it would be weird for me to bash on their window and say, 'excuse me but you're bothering me with your sitting here and not getting out of your car. Could you leave?'...wouldn't it?

My neighbourhood- and several others around- has a new trend of mowing the grass in diagonal lines. It looks...diagonal. For me, it's way too much work since I have trouble getting my mower to mow straight lines of any kind and my lawn is on a slope. It isn't, however, a problem for the Dog Whisperer who seems obsessed with mowing his grass because he does it three times a week, sometimes in the rain. Unfortunately, he just now decided to try the diagonal mow which means that since he's a bit of a lawnmowing junkie, the last cut hadn't grown out and currently, his lawn is a bit of a crosshatch design. It looks a little wonky. I think he realized because, no kidding, he's out there now mowing and it looks like he's gone back to the horizontal mow.

The Dog Whisperer's son is an interesting little boy. He likes to shoot baskets in his little hoop which is quite a bit shorter than him. He's seven years old and is SO proud when he makes a basket that, if I'm outside, he asks me if I watched. Of course, I don't like to tell him that when you're towering over the basket, it's not that much of a feet to reach out and drop the ball in so I just nod politely and say "good job." Today, when I popped home at lunch to let the puppies out, the Dog Whisperer- off from work this week- decided to let his beasts out even though I only had a 15 minute window to let the puppies play outside. I know he doesn't do it intentionally but...sometimes I wonder. As I was leaving, Son of the Dog Whisperer was wandering down the street. He does this a lot. He's one of those kids who's always looking elsewhere rather than where he's actually going and you can actually hear imaginary 'la-di-da-di-da' as he sort of skips along. He's fun to watch because he's always carrying a stick or a light saber or a toy. Today, he made a point of stopping in front of my car just as I was about to climb in and go back to work. He said, "I live in that house with the porch back there" as he pointed...at his house...which is next to mine. I smiled politely and nodded and said, 'good job'. I think it's my new standard response. He's a sweet kid but very head-in-the-cloudsy. Also, he just seems to stroll off at any given time. I'm sure his parents know where he's going but I sometimes pass him just 'la-di-da-di-daing' at the end of the street which is quite far from home for a seven-year-old.

But it is nice to live on a street with neighbours. Even though the Dog Whisperer's beasts continue to yap continuously, I now know that it doesn't just bother me because Larry, the possible-serial-killer told me. He likes to go to the neighbours and have a gossip so I trust him on this. Even with the awkwardness that is caused by meetings with Larry, I still enjoy the fact that I have a neighbourhood now. It's coming up on a year since I bought this place and it's unbelievable how my life and priorities have changed. It's much better than living in an apartment where every spanking sounds through the floorboards and there's a stray student needing a ride to his ice-skating lessons.

Now that summers here, the neighbours are out and about and there's nothing more fun that peering at a neighbour through the window. In my family, it's a time-honoured family tradition going back at least as far as my great-grandmother who would stand at her windows and stare out, peering behind the net curtain. I found myself doing this the other night as Larry strolled by on an evening jaunt. I couldn't help it. When I realized what I was doing, I realized that perhaps its a genetic trait. Either that or I'm just nosy.

But there's nothing really wrong with that...right?

Happy Tuesday!

Overactive Imagination vs. The Kindness of Strangers

It's a soupy night out there. If you've never lived anywhere with humidity, you might not know what I'm talking about but, chances are, you have. It's the type of night where no matter what you do, you feel sticky; when you go outside, the bugs flock to you and though you don't see them, somehow you come in with a few mosquito bites, even when you sprayed repellent.

We're supposed to have storms tonight and I hope we do. The atmosphere is thick out there and we need a storm to break it up. Even if it means waking up to crashing thunder and sharp flashes of lightning, it'll be worth it if we can have a cooler day of it tomorrow.

I think the puppies sense the storm. They are, as they have been on previous stormy nights, quite restless. I took them for a walk tonight and though Sookie didn't lie down in protest as she quite often does, they walked quickly as though trying to get home as quickly as possible.

Of course, they didn't take into account that we'd meet Larry, my very friendly neighbour who lives on the second-to-last corner we turn on our nightly walk.

Larry is a sweet man. He calls my girls "fellas" even though I've told him they're girls. He loves to garden and knows I do too. Thus, when we pass by and he's outside as he so often is, he has to tell me his latest garden developments.

He's very nice. He really seems to love seeing the puppies. He's just...a little too friendly, if you know what I mean. When he talks to us, he invades my space and I find myself taking a step back to fight for some personal space. Tonight, he insisted on showing me his back garden and showing me his plantings. It's a nice garden and he's got a lot of good stuff growing.

It just took a long while to make our excuses to get out of there. Also, he uses human hair as a bedding nutrient.

Yes, you read that right. Larry uses human hair to fertilize his plants. Larry is probably ten years older than me and he lives alone. If I had an overactive imagination, I might be a little worried about Larry and his human hair fertilizer. I might think he had some serial killer tendencies.

Ok, fine, I do have an overactive imagination. You know I'm now a little curious and a little worried about Larry. I mean, hello, he uses human hair to feed his plants.

I know. It's not that weird. After all, it's a good fertilizer, I know this. I know you can go to the barber and ask them for clippings and they'll give them to you. But most people don't because...well...it's a little creepy. I mean, after all, decomposing bodies also make good fertilizer but you don't hear of people going to morgues and asking for unclaimed bodies to make their garden grow nicely, do you?

Fine, that's a disturbingly dark exaggeration. I still won't lie and say it doesn't make my skin crawl just a little that around every tree and newly planted shrub, Larry has a neatly lain circle of human hair.

Personally, I prefer mulch or, you know, plant food or, perhaps, compost which takes a little more work and smells a lot but somehow manages to be more appealing than human hair.

Needless to say, once I saw the hair-circles, I tried to excuse ourselves from Larry's company. He's nice but he's the sort of nice that won't stop talking and doesn't like to see you leave. He made comments about getting one of 'them cute l'il dog pens so the l'il fella's could have their play while you and me sit on the deck'. Translation: He wants to find a way to pen my puppies so we can sit on his back deck and look at his flowers.

Now, while I find Larry to be an exceedingly friendly and kind neighbour, I'm not sure I like the idea of him getting a little pen for my dogs. After all, we can see the Dog Whisperer's garden from Larry's so it's not like they really need to be penned. Also, well, frankly, Larry and his need to get up close and personal while he talks to me, combined with the fact that he uses human hair and appears to be very lonely does send up some red flags, I have to confess.

So, even though Sookie, Rory and I will continue to take our walks, even on muggy nights, I think we'll be a little more wary of Larry and not let him invite us back to his gated back garden to see his hostas. He's very nice and I know he means well but...we're just being cautious, that's all.

Of course, the puppies did happen to conveniently find a 'chicken' bone outside his house the other night. I pulled them away quickly. If I had an overactive imagination, I might debate about whether it truly belonged to a chicken or not.

Overactive Imagination? Please turn off now.

Happy Friday and have a good weekend!