The wonder of weather...

What a day. Gray, cold.
Pouring rain.
Sleet.
Snow.
As I sit here I hear the rain falling.
I can almost feel it flowing down the glass of my windows.
Then it changes.
There are tiny ticks against the glass. It's freezing.
Rain again.
Now, soft plops.
I gaze out at the huge wet, white snowflakes as they splash onto the glass.
As the day progresses, so does the wetness.
It has frozen quickly.
I open my front door and pitch a penny out onto my sidewalk from my porch.
It skims along on the newly formed ice like a puck.
It's quite dark now.
The street light on the corner shows clearly the ice coating the bare branches.
It is expected to rain and freeze throughout the night.
As the ice begins to thicken I wonder if it will start snapping branches.
It sounds like rifles when the limbs give way.
Worse, if it begins bringing power lines down.
It happens when the ice begins to grow heavy.
I wonder if I will still have power by morning.

I guess it's time to go to bed.

Tomorrow could be an interesting day.

Spring is here... No it's not... Yes it... Whatever.

About two weeks ago...

About two days ago...

So we've been dealing with a wet, heavy, nasty snowfall, rain, freezing rain, sleet and also temperatures reaching into the 50's and bright sunshine.

Then... gray, damp days.

They say variety is the spice of life. They're wrong. It's just annoying.

On one of the days it got to above 50 or so degrees, everybody is doing stuff outside, wearing just long-sleeve shirts, or light jackets... or even (like me) just t-shirts and jeans. Woo hoo! How nice is this?!

Then Dad says, "It's funny... every body's so happy with the weather right now... but last October when it only got up to the 50's... we were complaining and pulling out jackets and long sleeved clothes to wear!

When you think about it, he's absolutely right! (As all Dad's usually are!) What a difference a few months make, eh? Personally, I hate the damp, gray days because of how I hurt. But a lot of it is also the lack of sunshine. It's just so much easier to remain upbeat when the sun is out. (Duh, huh?)

So I'm on the computer with bright lights on, waiting for the pepper steak to be done cooking. (The smell is fabulous!) Then it's off the computer, in the car and down to Dad's for a few days.

Heard it's supposed to get warm and sunny in the next couple of days...

Yeah.

I'll believe it when I see it!

Yeah... somedays are just like this...

Now, if only I wasn't already there.

Cripes.

Home...

It's been a few days since I left dear Jax, it's been quite an adjustment. I find myself waking and listening for the tinkle of his tags. Then I become aware and remember I'm back home.

It's so very quiet without him in close proximity.

I make my way to the coffee pot and start my first pot of the day.

I look out my kitchen window at the dirty, icky, ice gray snowbanks, 30 feet from my next door neighbor. Wishing I was looking out over the lake.

Looking at the snow covered trees, their branches bowed with the weight of fresh snow.

I sigh.

I pour my first cup of coffee and wonder what Jax is doing right now.

Why do you look like a Shar Pai?!

My sweet pre-lumpy faced boy!

It started out just your typical Northwood’s day. Let the dog out. Let the dog in. Let the dog out… read your ninth book, wean yourself off the TV… let the dog in. Let the dog out. Go with him and play so he gets tired. Come in the house, alternately snooze and/or read while sitting in the recliner, next to the toasty fireplace. Listen to the dog sigh and moan as he scratches himself while lying on his doggie bed.

Let the dusk come… softly there is a pink cast to the sky. The shadows grow deeper, the fire's just embers… the book forgotten in your lap as you watch evening fall out across the white expanse that is the lake.

Make note of the fact that the dog is rubbing his muzzle on his front legs… and the dog bed. Get up, turn the lights on and hone in on the dog’s face!

OH MY GOD!!!!!

Just call me Lumpy.

The sweet yellow lab has transformed himself into a Shar Pai! What the hell!?!
I turn on more lights and study him closely. His poor face is lumpy with what I can only assume are hives!

Cripes.

Quick… call the vet! I glance at the clock… 5:30! Great!

What time do they close on Fridays? Figures, as I listen to the recording, I learn their day ended an hour and a half ago.

I jot down the emergency contact number and call it. I explain the problem to the vet and she instructs me to wash him and give him Benadryl. After determining there isn’t any in the house I run to the store. All they have is the children’s. Same thing but it compounds the problem as I will have to effectively double the amount I have to get down him.

Yay.

I wisely think to buy an infant’s dosing syringe as I’m pretty certain I won’t be able to just convince him to knock back a shot. (Although since I noticed a bottle of Southern Comfort in the house, I’m considering one) So arriving back home the first thing I have to do is wash him. Yeah… he was really not a Happy Dog during that. In actuality, he just kept looking at me with those deep brown eyes, begging me to explain why I was tormenting him so.

The affliction at its worst.

He was so good through it all! Well… the washing part. The Benadryl was another matter. It wasn’t easy but I managed to get a loading dose into him, while my tears are landing on his poor, misshapen muzzle. He resisted of course, but took it in like a trooper. I had to resort to squirting about a quarter of the last of it onto on the top of his paw. Which he then dutifully licked off, giving him the entire dose.

I laid next to him on his bed, waiting to see if he would become drowsy or hyperactive. Much like children, many medications cause the opposite reactions to the doses. We lucked out when his response was to fall asleep. A few hours later after a second dose there was massive improvement and by the next evening there were hardly any indications he’d had an allergic reaction.

On the mend

I never was able to figure out what he’d gotten into. Considering his excavation activities… it’s not surprising he came across something that didn’t agree with him. I was just very happy that it turned out okay!

Back to normal!

Adventures in the Northwoods

Look carefully, this is Jax's second favorite thing to do outside. He rolls on his back and wiggles. This accomplishes two things. His back gets scratched and he gets completely soaked so I can share the lovely essence of Eau de Wet Dog.

So the blonde thing has started sleeping next to the bed. This doesn’t bother me. Except when he wakes me up by licking me from chin to eyebrows! Thank God my mouth was closed! At any rate, it brings me quickly into a heightened state of awareness.

Later when we're playing outside. The heavy snow from a couple days before is still around and sticky, it’s sunny and Not-So-Great-White-North warm. I discovered that the Chuck-it is really great for something other than slinging tennis balls.

It’s like a melon-baller with punchy, snowman making snow! Yes… I was about to mess with the Jaxsters mind. First… the ball. He snags it, starts to return but pulls up short… What’s this he wonders? She’s ready to fling another ball!

The real ball hits the driveway and I send the snowball flying. He fell for it and I then stood there and laughed manically while he tried desperately to find the snowball. In the meantime, I retrieved the tennis ball, got his attention… and well, you can imagine the rest.

To his credit, he did finally figure out that some weren’t real balls (He’s not so dumb… he realized the real ones bounce, the snowballs don’t! Not a bad catch on his part!) But soon, the sun is going down and the warmth was fading quickly. I also figured if I let him catch anymore, he was probably going to have a stroke or something.

So the sun went down, the temperature followed and the melt water on the driveway froze. This is not conjecture, not a maybe… thin coatings of water on blacktop turns to ice up here. I know this.

We went inside and both napped after our fresh air romp. Even though he’d worked a whole lot more than me, I was pretty tired too. It was about four hours later that he wants to go outside.

I open the door and he bounded out… then he starts jumping around wanting to play again. I tell him it’s not happening and he needs to just go potty. He rejects this option. I close the door. He stays on the porch.

Barking. Like, a hound from hell type of barking.

It’s giving me a headache so I open the door, he foolishly comes back in. A little while later we are repeating the entire process. This time however, I refuse to open the door to let him back in, and I stand in the unlit office watching to see if he goes potty. While hoping desperately that no one nearby will be able to pinpoint the location of this rabid mutt’s frenzied barking!

He doesn’t but rather continues his loud, obnoxious barking. I let him back in and devise a plan. He follows me through the house and I let him out the garage door. This works. He goes to do his thing, I close the garage door.

Cool… problem solved.

I hear the hound from hell wind up again. Now I’m starting to wonder what a stroke feels like as I open the front door and tell him to get inside. Well… he decided that just wasn’t happening. He’s barking, running up and down the driveway, yipping, bouncing and doing everything in his power to get me to throw that damn ball.

I decide that I’m going to try the garage door business again, while I nonchalantly also make him aware that I just happen to have a treat in my hand. It was a good plan in hindsight. It would have worked perfectly.

If not for the fact that I was guilty of being “blond” myself when I walked out of the garage, completely and totally without caution stepping onto the now frozen melt water on the driveway.

To quote Robin Williams, “Gravity works.”

In that instant I knew I was going down, I pushed my legs out to the side to change the backward fall into a forwards fall while crossing my arms in front of my face to absorb the brunt of the fall.

I hit, and what was a puddle earlier is now slush. This is pertinent because I am practically prone in it. Barefoot, wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt.

I’ve had better days.

There was only one thing at this point to make it worse. The dog that I had been playing with daily on my hands and knees in the house went, “Woo-hoo! Playtime! He then proceeded to jump on me, over me, under me (he was checking to see if I had his baby under me which is how we play inside) I’m trying to stand up, he’s trying to play with me and I am cold, wet and crabby.

I finally make it to my feet and into the house. At least he came inside with me. I proceed to tally the damage my little adventure caused. First, I strip off my soaking wet clothes and jam on socks and wrap a towel around my wet hair.

It could have been worse I guess. The ice scraped my arms from wrist to elbow, my knees are scraped as well and yay… I chipped a tooth. Out come the flannel jammies, and I inform my blond counterpart that it’s time for bed.

The next day the bruises that have formed are monstrous but I bruise easily so that’s not really a concern. I am however very stiff and sore.

Jax is the same Happy Dog as always and I let him go outside. I watch him as he steps off the porch, then he nearly decapitates himself swinging his head around. Why, you might ask?

He smelled and discovered the dog treat I’d had in my hand the night before. I’d forgotten all about it. He snagged it and then spent most of the day with his nose to the ground every time I let him outside. Ever hopeful…

Cripes.

A blond ran down the road...

Jax loves to visit the neighbors and it is allowed. So one day I figure it’s time for him to come in, and I go to the door and call for him. I see him pop his head up from a snow bank down the road.

I call to him again, thinking he’d probably just come through the woods. Nope. He flies down their driveway and hell bent down the side of the road.

Missing his driveway by about 30 feet. His hips are almost up around his ears as he skids to a halt, turns around and comes tearing up the driveway.

Me?

I’m standing in the doorway, crossing my legs to keep from wetting my pants because I had to go so badly!

Animals are such cheap entertainment.

The fireplace vs. Norman Rockwell

My first attempt at a Norman Rockwell-esque snowy winter evening didn’t go as well as planned. First, there was little kindling and only big honking logs. I managed but I knew that if I was going to try again, I needed some seriously mid-range size logs. I was thinking about getting one of those fake logs hoping it would burn long enough to get the big log burning, but wasn't sure if that would work.

Then, on a trip to a nearby town, I caught a glimpse of what looked like bundled wood outside of a live-bait shop. I went around the block to double check…. SCORE! It was just what I was looking for! I bought two bags. (Then got three or four more later!)

The scene was definitely Norman Rockwell. Toasty fire… flames dancing behind the glass, feet propped on the mantel, cozy chair, a great book and a sweet yellow lab sleeping next to the chair. (Add long contented sigh here)

Then something popped in the fire, and it sounded like a rifle shot.

The dog came unglued alternately trying to both get away from the source of the sound and barking like he was rabid because he didn’t know what it was.

On the other hand, I wasn’t a whole lot better. I jumped so hard that the book went flying (sadly landing behind the dog which did not help the situation) my heart was racing as it lodged firmly in my throat…

Cripes.

Even though the entire incident probably took place within the span of maybe four seconds, I looked at him, he looked at me… we were shaky, freaked out and gasping for breath.

We decided we’d watch TV. With the sound on loud!

Outdoor adventures

So Jax was having a lot of fun once I got the hang of throwing his ball more than six feet at a time. (I’m serious! That dog has the ability to roll his eyes!) It's kind of cute when he plops down on the top of a snow bank to take a break. I never thought I’d be able to wear him out!

Without a doubt, watching this dog flip his tennis ball into the snow, pouncing on it with his front feet to push it deeper, then begin digging a four foot deep hole to retrieve it again was hilarious!

Sadly, I was only able to catch his antics on my cell phone and I can’t get the pictures to transfer! (It’s so annoying!) Just picture if you will… a big bank of pristine snow, an insane yellow lab digging with such fury that there is a rooster tail of “snow-wake” behind him as he disappears. The deepest he got was when only his back haunches and tail were visible from the snow bank next to the driveway.

What makes this absolutely the funniest thing ever is that moment when he suddenly reemerges with the soggy and ice crusted ball in his mouth, his face covered with snow… he literally looks like the happiest dog on earth.

This dog is a lot of things… but his ability to entertain while at the same time making simple troubles seem a lot clearer… what does the commercial say? Oh yeah… priceless.

So I'm sittin' here...

... realizing this place is a lot like home.

First, six inches of snow...

...then today? 45 degrees, lots of slush and water, now it's raining. God help us if it freezes.

Cripes.

Where does the weather never change? Like someplace with around 60's to 70's year-round... some rain, a little snow... garden flowers grow well. You know... NICE!

Okay... I think that was probably that place in the movie, Pleasantville.

Ah...... dare to dream. Where's the remote?

A snowy heaven!

Well... the snowstorm only dropped about six inches total. I was made even happier by the fact that all snow removal was done by someone else! YAY!

It really is gorgeous with the new fallen snow. The trees bowing to the sky's delivery... It got very sunny late yesterday and today. Even though temperatures are in the single digits and the overnights are to be in the minus category, the sun has slowly warmed away the snow and many boughs are once again bare.

The Happy Dog is doing well. Other than being insane, of course.

He likes it when I use the 'chuck-it' to send the ball flying. It took me a long time to get even so-so throws. (Not to mention a few doggie-dirty-looks) Then I discovered the best way for me to use it. I hold it like a baseball bat!

I swing like Babe Ruth, but pull up short. That ball flies! Not too bad for a girl that throws like one! It goes so far down the driveway the blond thing has to actually chase it! After five or six throws, he's done and starts to bury and then dig up his own ball.

I'm serious! He drops the ball in the snow, pushes it down with his nose and/or feet... then starts digging... He's insane! It's kind of like having the ability to hide your own Easter eggs and forget where you put them! But he goes at it like he hasn't seen that ball since last fall. At the very least, Jax is and always will be one of my favorite Happy Dogs!