Viva La Vita



At a loss for concentration: run through a series of small chores. Some washing is done, the pros and cons of different sizes of paper guillotines are considered. I'm surprised to find I have made the bed, and part cleaned the cooker.
What I don't do is either forgotten or not a surprise.
I am cross with Dog for ignoring me, when she pounces across the crop field in pursuit of swooping birds: she should not run through the crop, nor pick and choose loyalty. She walks back to the house at heel, on a lead, head down, tail at slow wag.
I am cross with her, she knows.
Yet that utter glee of pursuit, ears and tongue flailing, is the image that comes to me over and over, bounce by bounce.



Comments

Dixie@dcrelief said…
Maybe she picks up on the melancholy mood... this too shall pass. Love it!
16 May 2013 at 00:06
Geo. said…
My dogs always had black noses of high-grade India rubber but yours has this lovely brown color --a synthetic? Neoprene? Charmed again by your photos!
16 May 2013 at 01:55
Stephanie said…
You put a bow in her hair! And she is still talking to you!

My dog wrote a haiku the other day that your dog will appreciate, speaking of "owner is crabby with me."

Baths suck.
Rolling in poo is fun.
Dilemma.

It's not in proper haiku format, but what can you expect? She is a dog. A mutt, at that. Lack of proper schooling, and it shows.

Yours looks like a supremely loved and happy pooch.
16 May 2013 at 04:11
The Cranky said…
Sometimes we all need to run for a moment, heedless of everything but meeting our need.
16 May 2013 at 07:17
Heather Robinson said…
I was fuuurrrious with one of my puppers yesterday--Ben, the one who is supposed to be "the good one"! But oh, the look he gave me this morning when I woke up--I call it his "velvet painting eyes"--melted my heart.

I agree with Stephanie--you are lucky dog is still barking at you!
16 May 2013 at 09:16
Lisa Southard said…
Dog is my best therapist! Never written a poem to my knowledge, though she may surprise me yet.
I think her nose is authentic, Geo, though she may surprise with this too.
Lately she has had a haircut and therefore escaped being adorned. Tic season!
Still makes me laugh though, even with frumpy ears.
21 May 2013 at 23:40
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more