THE GLASS SHOW AND MOSTLY PICS

The glass exhibit is over and the kids are heading back to Tennessee. We are left with good memories, a new lamp and I have a wall-mounted glass bird. Black with beautiful sunflower yellow speckles and streaks down his back.

Over the weekend we held the show, went to dinner, cleaned the back yard and wore ourselves out. Koda, Stacey Adam's lovely Aussie-with-a-tail visited as well, altho he went for a walk with Conley he did not meet the Gang of Four head on, but spent the afternoon in the yard while Stacey, Christopher and John cleaned the yard up and I cooked stuffed Manicotti.

The banner in the window of the Salon Artists Gallery, where the glass was being shown.

A pair of birds done by Chris Szaton of Marble City Glassworks

A section of the glass exhibit. Flowers napkin holders, with tumblers and a pitcher behind them.

The pendant light section.

These are paperweights done by Matt Salley, the other half of Marble City Glassworks. He does these and Christiopher does the birds, and both of them do other items together.

My new bird, from the front.

...and the back

Our new living room lamp.

Koda, a wonderful dog

Stacey helping to clean up the backyard of cut down saplings and a winter's worth of plant debris.

Half of Marble City Glassworks, my son Christopher cleaning the yard with

his girl, Stacey and his Dad, John. It looks fabulous, the yard.All in all it was a great weekend, and I think they sold a lot and did well. I also got to see my daughter (Stacey) andher husband John Arguello, and meet their neighbor, Bonnie. My sister-in-law drove in to see the exhibit and we all went to dinner.
Last night we said goodbye to the kids and I wish Stacey A and Christopher and Koda a speed and safe trip.

Glass can be viewed and custom ordered at

www.marblecityglassworks.com
or viewed at their Etsy store
http://www.etsy.com/people/MarbleCityGlassworks?ref=ls_profile

BITS AND PIECES

I find it fascinating that the dogs get me up at 4 or 4:30 in the morning and, apparently energized, go out and check the entire yard and then, once I am up for good, go back to sleep. I mean, they are ASLEEP--- that level where they would not even hear me if I left. But if I rattle the treat box moving it aside, I have them awake and underfoot

Yesterday I took Conley and went for a walk with Stacey and Koda. Stacey power-walks or something akin to it and I was trying to keep up, but Conley and I fell behind. Conley snuffled every bush as he went but Koda, a herding breed and determined to follow instructions, did not. I can teach the Belgians to hup along and not check out every upright plant, but not the Bassets. Those noses are just the key to the world of smells, and the siren song is too strong. On the other hand, the Bassets could care less if everyone comes in when called, but the Belgian has to go back out and bring them in. Everything in it's place, I think is the herding dog motto.

I met someone yesterday who rescues mixed breeds but not purebreds because rescuing purebreds "only encourages show people" to continue breeding and everyone knows--according to this person-- that they abandon the dogs that are not show quality. Of course this is absurd, but I kept my mouth shut. I was not at home but in a public place with other people and she was a customer and so I was quiet but when she asked whether I had dogs I said yes, I show and breed Bassets.

It was a bit of a lie, since I am doing neither at this time, but was worth it for the look on her face. Heh. I am a rotten person.

Conley, when I am in the kitchen, places himself between me and the counter or sink. It is a damnable habit and one I would stop. No matter how often or with what force he is ejected, he returns.  It isn't so much that he is waiting for me to drop something but that he is creating a situation where this is much more likely to happen. We say the Belgians need only one instance to learn something, but Bassets are not dull and need only one time with a food dropping off the counter to recognize a golden opportunity.And they are perfectly capable of projecting this into the future, so that they anticipate the event. Between leaning over the dog to the counter and the slipperly drool on the floor, Conley has created the perfect environment for an accidental dropping of foodstuff. And he knows it.

The softest spot in the house is the only place a Basset belongs.

ONCE A HOUND....

Of the four dogs three are hounds and have noses. The fourth also has a nose but I don't think he pays as much attention to smells as the hounds do, which makes sense since noses are what these hounds are all about.

So yesterday I let the dog that had accompanied my son and his girl up from Knoxville, a delightful Aussie named Koda (I think that is how she spells it) use the backyard.

We orchestrated it so that my dogs would be eating and would not even know Koda was in the yard. My dogs are not a pack: they're a Gang Of Four. I don't know how other people handle guest dogs, but I have never even tried it. I have a feeling my dogs would not greet a stranger in their midst with open paws.

Anyway so Koda came and used the yard and left without my dogs ever getting sight of him, but of course, his scent was all over the place. It was really funny. I wish I had a film of the hounds hitting the back door, shooting out, screeching to a halt, noses up, whirling around and attacking the gate. From there they put their noses to the ground and began an in-depth study of the trail that meandered about the yard --THEIR YARD!!!--- and the pee spots and so on, and the longer they tracked the more excited they got. Sometimes they would stop and peer around as if expecting a dog to materialize behind them. (Talk about a "hot track").
As they nosed their way through the grass they first began to mumble, then broke into shouting, tails going like mad they bellowed and stomped and bayed as they raced around Koda's trail. And ended up back at the gate, yelling and hollering, daring Koda to come out of hiding and show himself. He was of course, long gone.

During this time the Belgian, with his excellent but hardly comparable nose, stood and watched in amazement. (He often does this when the Bassets are on one of their Missions.) Cooper probably could smell Koda also but it never occur-ed to him to charge blindly about the yard telling the world about it. He would be more likely to sit quietly by the gate and wait to see if Koda returns.

It took quite awhile for the boys to settle down. At one point they came back into the house, ran to the front door and looked up and down the street, then ran to the back door to go out, and began all over again. It is interesting that they were able to understand that Koda had come from the front and that if they came in and looked out the window, they might see the interloper. That requires some reasoning ability, something many experts don't think dogs have. Clearly, they do.

THIS IS COOPER

This is Cooper.
Ch. Midnight Acres High Noon, HCT.
Born Nov 3rd, 2000 I think. Or 2001. He is 11. And now, he is failing.
He is my heart dog, my soul dog, my constant and enthusiastic companion.
He is an AKC Champion of record.
He was born in the country but is a city dog at heart. He finds horses, cows and sheep to be things to avoid.
He rides in cars, he does elevators. He has stayed in many motels in many places. He travels well. He guards his flock. He watches the house, he alerts to things that are a block away. He waits every day for the mailman, the UPS man, the Fed Ex man and anyone who looks suspicious--- which means anyone outside the immediate family.

Cooper is ill. A year and a half ago he lost a front leg to Osteosarcoma. Now he has some kind of lesion in his  belly, at the pyloric valve. He has trouble eating. He has lost a lot of weight. He is bleeding somewhere inside. Nevertheless he barks at strangers, guards the house, wags his tail, grins his silly Belgian grin.
I cannot bear the thought of losing him, but I will.

I am trying to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the nights without him, for the days that I do not feed him, for the afternoons that he does not lay in the sun on the deck.

I am trying to prepare for his empty collar and his put-away dishes, For the toys he doesn't need anymore, and the silence when the mailman comes. I am trying to brace for looking in the back of the Van and seeing --- no Cooper. Because this is coming.

I am not ready. I hope he isn't, either.

LIVING WITH NIGEL

This is Nigel.
He is not spoiled.
Every dog should have someone willing to cover them when they are chilly, to feed them whenever the urge to gnosh strikes, to carry fresh water to them 30gazillion times a day and to take them out and in and out and in and out and in when they cannot walk by themselves.
Every dog should have a 4 foot pen in a main room to stay in when he is not on the bed or the couch or lounging on the floor.
Every dog should be able to roust his keeper at 4:30 in the morning to go outside. Especially when the keeper has to be the back legs.
Every dog should have his own transport cart with his own license plate and DL and someone to walk along beside in case of trouble.
Every dog.
Every single dog.
And I have to wonder if Nigel would return the favor.
I suspect he would be available to assist with naps.

NOT VERY REGULAR

Don't worry it's not an ad with Jamie Lee Curtis.

I have not been very good about writing. There is nothing very exciting to write about.

April 20 I am going to Iowa and then to Omaha for the International Horse Show, one evening of it at least. I am not sure what it is we are going to see- whether it is jumping or not. I believe it is. I haven't ever watched show jumping in person so am really looking forward to it. I am going to have to board Nigel. I hate to do that but I know that it is too much for one person. Cooper is staying home as well. Another thing I do not like doing, but there will be 3 people in Susie's little Prius and I just don't think it would work...LOL.

(from google)

I cannot imagine show jumping. When I was riding all the time and still relatively brave, I would take my horse over fallen logs, and it terrified me if you have to know. I had a lot of close calls riding, but jumping was the only time I was afraid on a horse. I didn't, I think, have a lot of faith in his ability to jump, he being a kind of clunky quarter-horse type. In truth, he never put a hoof wrong, and was considerably more athletic than I.

Horses are funny animals. It is easy to forget they are prey animals and therefore very paranoid. Paranoid horses live a long time, unharmed by wolves and snakes, cougars and little girls who ask them to do very stupid things.

Horses are good teachers. Mine was, anyway. While it gave me a sense of power to get on that big old horse and get him to do what I wanted, he never let me get any further than that. He constantly reminded me that no matter how big my britches were, he outweighed me by a good thousand pounds, and he was doing my bidding only out of the graciousness of his soul and his un-ending good humor.

(Percheron Congress)

I know Cooper would not have approved. Horses are too big and too dangerous for Cooper's taste. He's a lot like my Mother was, in that respect.

SPENDING TIME

A lot of my time lately has been spent trying to get the PR out for my son's glass exhibit here in town. He is going to be here for several days with his lovely friend, Stacey. Stacey is also my daughter's name so this is getting complicated.

Aside from the PR there is the house to think about. Or not. We have four dogs one of whom is fairly incontinent. I say fairly because he does exhibit some degree of awareness and control but he still tends to dribble a bit. With the onset of summer and humidity (even tho it is March it feels as if summer is imminent--the temp right now at 8:44 on a March morning is 66 and humid.) the smell from the dribbling is reaching stench level.

Poor Nigel. Blamed for everything.

Nevertheless our failure to adequately cover his weenie (a medical term) when he is out and about is responsible for the smell. I still cannot get anything to stay on him, and diapers are simply out of the question. If we fasten the belly band with a strap around his chest (like a doggie suspender) he freezes and will not move, will not move even his head. So he goes without. (No pun intended, but that's not bad.)

I have to get a steam cleaner and clean my rug, for it is my room in which he spends the majority of his time.

AND he needs a bath. They all need baths. I read in wonder of those of you who bathe 4 or 5 dogs every week. Can you walk normally? Upright? I would not be able to. I barely can now. But Nigel in particular, of course, needs a bath since the rug is not the only thing that is dribbled upon.

Meantime I am trying to roust the local newsy people into putting an article or at least a freebie ad in their "Local Interest" places about the glass exhibition. It would help enormously if he were going to be blowing glass, but transporting a furnace that heats up to 1500 degrees.....

At an art fair in Des Moines, Iowa, there is a glassblower from Ames, Iowa, who brings a small portable furnace and sets up at the Fairgrounds and blows glass. It takes 24 hours for the furnace to get up to temp and he has to watch it all the time. It is not quite like picking up your sketch pad  and paintbox and moving to a different spot.

So I have the paper PR-- postcards and posters and banners. And I have been tormenting the local news people. I do not have the $$ to take out a big display ad.

We have the music arranged for the opening and are working on food. Two of us are bringing wine. Heheheheheheheh.
Last year I got little goodies and cooked them at home and transported them to the Gallery where they became cold, gelatinous, greasy gobs of inedible garbage. Not trying that again.

I don't mind doing it for Christopher but it is a lot of work and now I know how those people who plan "events" for a living make a living. Next time...

Gasoline is up to $4.39 here having dropped a bit in the past day or two.
I hope this helps all those starving Oil Magnates....