BIRDS

photo from images

Alas,I did not get a photo of the Red Tailed Hawk that was sitting in my driveway early this week.

I heard the calling, heard it very close, and went quietly out.

But I was barefoot and the yard has been dug up and it is just dried clay now in half the front, very hard on bare feet. At least mine. Not being Cody Lundin.

And I got distracted because the calling was so close that I even peered into the bush next to me, but there was nothing there.

Then I noticed a Red Tail overhead, also calling. I could see the very bright rusty red tail in the sun. It was the first thing the eye was drawn to.

  

© Gil Miller (photographer)

I walked (tippy-toed thinking ouch ouch ouch with every step) around the corner of the house and the hawk had been in the driveway. I do not know which of us was more startled, me or the hawk, but it exited instantly, so fast I was stunned by it's size. The wingspan was at least two and half feet across. A huge bird, by any standard, so massive I was surprised it could lift off in such a small space.

The other hawk was circling overhead, calling. The one on the drive launched, lifted and vanished in the trees before I could do anything sensible.

I wish it had stayed a moment or two longer.

DOG CRAZY

We love our boys, we really do.
But you know, some days the dogs really make us nuts.
Over the years they have learned that the male spouse is a real soft touch for treats. He cannot stand the pleading looks, the laid flat ears, the hopeful tiny tail wag (just the tip--they all learn it). Consequently, when he moves around they think they might be able to con a treat out of him, and they mob him. They bark, they leap, they yell and holler and trip him and shove him from behind and are generally very obnoxious. And what does he do? He gives them treats to shut them up.
I, on the other hand, make it plain that I am not an automatic treat dispenser. Sometimes......SOMETIMES they don't even get a treat when they (gasp) come in from outside!!!!

                                                        Imagine the treachery!

Some days, however, they just won't quit. I don't know if they are especially bored, feeling good, feeling bad, hungry or just......obnoxious. But they really are. They clamor, they yarr at people down the street when they shut a door, they scream at the mailman on the next street (they can see the next street) and they leap and beg and boss and bug us for treats, to go out, to come in, to get a treat, to pet them, to get a treat.....They remind me of small children on a bad day: Mommy watch me! Mommmy WATCH Mommy watch me watch me...Mooommmmmmmy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!No watch ME. Mommey watch ME....

I remember my children as actual children fondly, but I cannot say I am sorry they are grown. I also remember the many days I felt as if collapsing, fully clothed, face first on the floor was my only remaining option.

Watch me, Mommy watch me watch me

And on those days with the dogs swirling between our legs and banging into our kneecaps and leaping on our backs, clawing and yelling and being horrible, I remember that I asked for this. I wanted this. This is what I love most.

But couldn't they get jobs?

DECOR

I have given serious thought to the question of what type of decor I am going to have at our real house when they get to that point, assuming they ever actually DO.
I think it will be similar to what is here- a kind of minimalist design with just two or three accent colors:

                                       Looks fine to me.

WHINE POWR BY LLEWIS

Dis be Llewis. Me with da rogue leg an funny back. Cause of dese things I cannt get up on the furnitshure less it got a stair and not everthing here do. DOes. (I m  trying to yuse my books so this eezeeer to read for youse peopels what dont like bassetese..)
We all got crates scept Cooper the Belgian sheepsdog. He like to sleep in mine durin da day and he drool all ober my speschul crate pad bought speschul so I dont haveta try an liff my rogue leg ober stuff: it flat.
At nite me and Conley an Nigel sleep in our crates an Cooper he get to rome loose. Sometime he sleep wid DadPerson sometime MomPerson an sometime needer.
At da house we usta hab--dont nose where it wented. One day it rained inside an we zip off to da--nebbermind. Story for anodder time.

Anyways at da odder place I sumtime get to sleep loose too. I cannot get up onna bed or nuffin nothin like dat so I leeb MomPerson alone an sleep onna couch (got stairs) or dog bed in da odder room. Dat fine. Dis place I go back inna crate.

Here I is in my crate an Cooper done took ober Nigel's. Youse can see how my leg don't bend an so affer awhile I gets uncomfurmable. (Dat NOT right...) Uncomformable. no. Uncomfortable. Dere we go.

So enyways I starts whinin. Yousually I starts about three inna mornin. An I not quit no madder whut an MomPerson she get reel mad. Finely she wise up an lass night she done leff me outta da crate. She let me sleep onna bed wif she. I no move around an let her shove me outta she way. Dis place she gotta bigger bed. It reel nicey. Conley an Nigel juss stare at me an not sayin nuffin.
I nose dey JELLLOOUUSSS BWAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAAHAHH.
oop.
Sorry. I not da ebil type. (snicker.) Hey! Dat a candy bar. I think I'm hungry. Wheres MomPerson? Mebbe I kin get a bisquit.

So keep whining my brudders. You win in da end.

Love an Drool, Llewis

THE QUIET MORNING

The neighbors have a beagle, Maddie. She is out and loose far more than she is in, and she barks, and my dogs bark at her, and they fence fight-for real- not just running the fence but trying to tear each other apart through it, which is possible. Anyway it is cool and I thought I would pick up the backyard which really really needed it.
First of all I needed to dump the old bag of poop into the garbage. Easy enough, except the garbage can is on the other side of the fence and the fence is too high for me to reach the bag over without either ripping it on the wire or tossing it over and risking having it break open when it hits the cement. So I went to unlock one of the gates but could not find the key or else it isn't working.
Meantime the boys and Maddie were screaming at each other through the fence. I got that settled down. Then the cloud of mosquitoes, horseflies and flies descended on me and I am serious about it literally being a cloud, mostly squitoes. I sprayed the bejesus out of myself even taking off my glasses and doing part of my forehead and under my chin, the back of my neck, my head, etc.
While I was doing this the dogs started fence fighting again. I got that stopped, went in and got the keys to the garage, carried the bag of dog shit through the garage to the garbage can.
Maddie started barking and the boys went off again so I got everyone shut up and began picking up. (Maddie's people are home, they just leave her out.)
I finally got started picking up poop in the yard and was attacked again, sprayed myself again, started over. I had spent about 3 minutes picking up in silence when the meter reader appeared in the yard behind us, setting off the dogs on THAT street, Maddie, and mine.This time I sent them in the house. So I knew the meter reader was around but he was on the next street. I continued picking up. I knew John had gotten up because I could smell coffee.
Five minutes into this, the dogs went ballistic along with Maddie and Angel across the street, Coco next door and the two labs kitty corner. Meter reader. He needed into the yard.
Ok the gates are locked shut and I cannot open them. I have him come through the garage. John is shutting windows. MReader has to walk past the big window in the back which is about a foot & a half from the floor, and there are 4 dogs screaming and foaming and leaning on the window as he passes it, to his horror--and the biggest one only has three legs, probably lost that leg going through a window to eat a meter reader....

 

I get him out of there but the dogs are going to keep it up until they have been out and know he is gone. As he goes in front he is intercepted by Maddie who goes apeshit and this causes all of my dogs to rush to the front window and onto the couch to make sure the MReader is not breaking in the front. By now the guy looks as if he might be about to cry.

I let the dogs out the back to prove to them the guy is gone and Coco is out on the other side of the house (She is a very sweet GSD) and of course, the barking starts again, the dogs are wired, stoked and ready to roar at anything. I bring them in and they rush the front window and begin barking because Maddie is standing in our yard. I yell at Maddie, who leaves, and throw my dogs into crates until they can get themselves under control.
(Yes, I went back out, threw out the dog poop, locked the garage door.)
It is now 8 in the morning. I am ready for the day to be over.

NOT MUCH

There is simply nothing going on. The heat and humidity continue to be
seriously oppressive. By mid-day the sparrows that use the bush in the front yard as a resting spot have moved to it's innards, and even so their beaks are gaping as they pant.
The dogs go out and walk around part of the yard, then want in. Half the time, Cooper won't go out unless he is desperate and/or I force him.
I have no new photos, nothing to photograph.
I am waiting for my Jimmy Buffett songbook to arrive so that I can tease myself by looking at songs I want to play on the piano and are so far above my level of ability that I might as well forget for a couple of years, or perhaps eons.
Conley is pretending to throw up on my bare foot. I moved.
(He went outside.)

I have all the swatches and samples for the house but they are so far from that point as far as I can tell that I might have saved myself the trouble.
Llewis just asked to be lifted onto the bed. This annoys Nigel who thinks it is HIS bed. Tough luck.

See? Not much.

THE DECISION MAKER

This morning I got a computer generated call from Northern Illinois Gas. The male person on the other end of the line said he had an offer fo change the way we pay the gas bill. Since we are currently paying the gas bill for two houses, I was of course interested. Not much, because my experience is that these things generally cause all kinds of upsets and you end up paying more. But a little. So I said, "Yes?" and he said well actually....uh...was John Szaton there because he needed to speak with, and this is a quote: "the DECISION MAKER"!

oh! Well. I see.

I have a bit of a problem with these things. I also sometimes forget that the trigger on my temper is filed down and it often needs only a touch. I said:

"Well, the DECISION MAKER has stepped out! Clearly the only person left here is the lowly and undecided subordinate spouse of the DECISION MAKER. She who is not allowed to make...DECISIONS!!... so perhaps you should call back another time when the DECISION MAKER is in the castle and you can speak to someone equal to you in social standing, OKAY? Bye."

The actual Decision Maker thought this was very funny, and began laughing as soon as I started to relate the story, because he knew perfectly well what the effect of the language was going to have on me.

Years ago I went to buy a car. A Chevvy. In cash. I had my checkbook and I had the money and it was to be MY car. The man who waited on me showed me the roomy trunk, the snazzy upholstery, the gadgets on the dashboard, the big glove box, the pretty hubcaps, the different colors it came in... and I said well how much will you give me for the car I have? And he PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME (now he would lose his testicles just for that, but I was younger) and said "Honey, you bring the Hubby in tonight and he and I can talk money."

I stopped. I pulled out my checkbook. I waved it in his face. I said (loudly-- there were other people in the showroom and I wanted them to hear) "Your sexual condescension just cost your company and you this sale. I was prepared to buy the car now, but I will never buy from this company and EVERY WOMAN I KNOW is going to hear about your rude and inappropriate behavior towards me as a customer." And I stomped out, with him chasing me,saying "wait wait" and I will NEVER EVER buy a Chevrolet.

Sometimes I get it right, instead of sputtering incoherently and sobbing with fury. Not often, but now and then.
Ah! I have to run. The DECISION MAKER needs the salt!!

        The DECISION MAKER and his chief advisor. (Take your pick.)