3:00 a.m.: I hear something. I open my eyes and the Voice, that lives in my head, is looking at me, eyebrows arched high above its eyes. "Say it ain't so.", I mumble.
The Voice is smiling. No, it is more of a smirk. "You wanted a dog." it whispered.
3:15 a.m. I come to the conclusion Runtly isn't dreaming. He needs to go out. This is not the norm, only once before has he had to go out in the middle of the night...aka very early morning. I roll out of bed, grab my robe and slide my feet into a pair of flip flops.
As with all animals, except humans, Runtly has no sense of time. He is just as happy to see me at 3:15 a.m. as he is at 3:15 p.m. We head down the hallway to the front steps. Half way down, he stops. Through the dim light of the upstairs hallway, I can see the reason why. He had left me another prize by the front door last night. Houdini pooper strikes again. I don't know how he does it. We watch him like a hawk soaring over a freshly mowed field looking for a mouse, and he still manages to elude us.
I'm not happy and Runtly knows it. I turn to give him my exasperated tone of voice and mad face. In return, he begins to pee....on the stairs......down the stairs.....like he had not peed for several days. I am thankful there is no carpet on the steps.
3:25 a.m. Runtly and I are marching back and forth in front of the house. Again, I come to another conclusion.....I am up for the day. The moon is orange, like a pumpkin. Supposedly it is because of the forest fires in Alaska and the smoke has been traveling in the jet stream. I ponder about this.
3:45 a.m. I'm fully dressed, with my hair fixed, cleaning up above mentioned mess. Runtly wants to help.
4:00 a.m. We are sitting on the front porch, listening to the birds wake. Runtly wants to bark.
4:44 a.m. Referred to as "angel time". I do not see any, perhaps they are sleeping in. I've checked my email and answered a few correspondences. I've listened to Runtly gnawing and wallowing a deer antler all over the hardwood floor.
5:00 a.m. Runtly goes back to bed.
5:30 a.m. I'm on the front porch again. I hear a happy "Good Morning!" My oldest daughter is out for her morning walk, with Runtly's mother. I return the greeting and add that I have been up since 3. I tell her why I have been up since 3. I tell her I wanted a dog. She throws her head back, laughs, wishes me a good day and disappears around the corner.
5:34 a.m. The weather app on my phone says the sun will rise in three minutes. It says the sky is clear and the visibility is 100 miles. They must be standing somewhere other than here to make those calculations, but what the heck, I've got three minutes till sun rise, might as well watch it.
5:37 a.m. I'm standing on the back deck. No clear skies, no sunrise, just a whiter shade of pale. Now I have a song stuck in my head.
5:45 a.m. Tigger, the cat, is thrilled to see me. He does not get much lap time since the dog has arrived and makes himself comfy. I pet him, listening to his snorty purr. He begins to slobber on my shirt.
6:00 a.m. I make a mental note to buy stock in the company that makes lint rollers.
Probably going to be a two pot o' tea day.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
What's Going On?
When the mighty media in this country, and maybe everywhere else, gets on a roll, they sure know how to stir up the masses. Most times, the subject matter is really not all that important. But it is over inflated, blown way out of proportion and the majority of the people jump right on the band wagon.
The news media has been filled with items of fluff. I really do not care if someone decided to change their gender. I really do not care who marries who. I really do not care what some celebrity has to say, from their lofty mansions, about the rightness or wrongness of this country. I really do not care to hear about crooked politicians, as that seems to be the norm. And I really do not care what team picked what person to whack a ball, kick a ball, throw a ball or chase a ball in order to have the best season ever, not to mention make a crazy amount of money for doing so....but then, I'm not too sportsy. It's all fluff stuff.
For those striving to be Christ like, a lifelong journey, I have always felt that if He were silent on the subject, so should we be. "Judge not, lest you be judged", seems like pretty good advice.
What concerns me the most when the nonsensical news is whirling around like seed pods off a maple tree is, what is going on behind the scenes? What is it we are being distracted from that really makes a difference in our lives? When the masses are marching around like a herd of sheep, where are they being led?
Pay attention and be watchful.
The news media has been filled with items of fluff. I really do not care if someone decided to change their gender. I really do not care who marries who. I really do not care what some celebrity has to say, from their lofty mansions, about the rightness or wrongness of this country. I really do not care to hear about crooked politicians, as that seems to be the norm. And I really do not care what team picked what person to whack a ball, kick a ball, throw a ball or chase a ball in order to have the best season ever, not to mention make a crazy amount of money for doing so....but then, I'm not too sportsy. It's all fluff stuff.
For those striving to be Christ like, a lifelong journey, I have always felt that if He were silent on the subject, so should we be. "Judge not, lest you be judged", seems like pretty good advice.
What concerns me the most when the nonsensical news is whirling around like seed pods off a maple tree is, what is going on behind the scenes? What is it we are being distracted from that really makes a difference in our lives? When the masses are marching around like a herd of sheep, where are they being led?
Pay attention and be watchful.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Instant Life
On this day in 1812, Britain, unaware that America had declared war against it five days earlier, rescinded its policy on neutral shipping, a major issue of contention between the two countries. (Today's Highlights in History, JJC newspaper)
This is not a history lesson of what eventually led to the War of 1812, but perhaps a lesson in communication.
It took nearly six weeks to cross the Atlantic Ocean. The ships were still sailing by wind power. The telegraph had yet to be invented so the only means of communicating with each other was either by actual word of mouth, or a letter.
Maybe the ships tag-teamed across the ocean, tossing their bags of mail from one ship to the other. I really have no idea, but I would certainly have had to write down whatever the message was because in six weeks, I would have forgotten what I was supposed to tell the recipient.
From the end of that war until the present, astronomical progress has been made in means of communication. Instant communication is at our fingertips. We can talk, text, twit and Snapchat with anyone we please, at anytime we please and the message is delivered instantly.
Growing up, the first instant thing I knew about was tea. Back then, I thought the stuff was great. No longer was it necessary to brew real tea leaves to make a glass of ice tea. Now, I much prefer the real thing. The next instant item was mashed potatoes....and, well......with enough salt, pepper and butter.....anything will taste better.
It is a wonderful thing to be able to see a new baby or some other good news instantly. Families can keep in touch even if there are thousands of miles between them. But, when anger raises its ugly head, it is too bad there isn't an instant off function that would override the message. This would give people a cooling off period, a time to reflect, before they put a hateful, hurtful message out for all to see. It takes a lot of energy to stay mad and a time out session would maybe let them realize being mean just isn't worth it. If anger could only be communicated face to face, there would be a lot more "happy" floating around. Hopefully, some technological communication wizard is working on a bliss button.
Yes, we live an instant life. I'm still waiting for the instant weight loss though, because the only way I'm going to lose 20 pounds overnight is if my leg falls off in my sleep.
This is not a history lesson of what eventually led to the War of 1812, but perhaps a lesson in communication.
It took nearly six weeks to cross the Atlantic Ocean. The ships were still sailing by wind power. The telegraph had yet to be invented so the only means of communicating with each other was either by actual word of mouth, or a letter.
Maybe the ships tag-teamed across the ocean, tossing their bags of mail from one ship to the other. I really have no idea, but I would certainly have had to write down whatever the message was because in six weeks, I would have forgotten what I was supposed to tell the recipient.
From the end of that war until the present, astronomical progress has been made in means of communication. Instant communication is at our fingertips. We can talk, text, twit and Snapchat with anyone we please, at anytime we please and the message is delivered instantly.
Growing up, the first instant thing I knew about was tea. Back then, I thought the stuff was great. No longer was it necessary to brew real tea leaves to make a glass of ice tea. Now, I much prefer the real thing. The next instant item was mashed potatoes....and, well......with enough salt, pepper and butter.....anything will taste better.
It is a wonderful thing to be able to see a new baby or some other good news instantly. Families can keep in touch even if there are thousands of miles between them. But, when anger raises its ugly head, it is too bad there isn't an instant off function that would override the message. This would give people a cooling off period, a time to reflect, before they put a hateful, hurtful message out for all to see. It takes a lot of energy to stay mad and a time out session would maybe let them realize being mean just isn't worth it. If anger could only be communicated face to face, there would be a lot more "happy" floating around. Hopefully, some technological communication wizard is working on a bliss button.
Yes, we live an instant life. I'm still waiting for the instant weight loss though, because the only way I'm going to lose 20 pounds overnight is if my leg falls off in my sleep.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Yes, It Is
One thing about living in the Great Mid West is the fact that if the weather doesn't suit you, stick around, it will change. Usually, daily.
The weather here recently has been rainy. Not just rainy, but more like a monsoon season. When it rains, it does not rain in measurements of tenths, but in inches. The creeks are overflowing and the rivers are wreaking havoc on the people who live close to them. Lots of folks have been considering building arks.
All this rain tends to make people grumpy. Many years ago, when the girls were little and I ran a day care out of my home, I remember it rained or was cloudy for 26 days in a row. I don't care who you are, 26 grey raining days with a house full of kids would test the patience of Mother Teresa. It was depressing.
The neighbors' sump pump has been running for days and shoots a long stream of water down the sidewalk. Every time Runtly and I walk by, there is a line of toads and tree frogs, with little surf boards under their arms, waiting to ride the next torrent of water. It's quite a sight.
Along with the rain, comes the humidity. The air is thick and heavy with moisture. It's so humid that if you stand outside in one place for too long, moss will grow on your north side. Why, just the other day I opened a bag of ramen noodles, put them on a plate and set it out on the deck. They were ready to eat in about two minutes. The goldfish have been swimming in the air above the pond and this morning I saw a buffalo gnat wearing goggles with tiny windshield wipers on the lenses.
Yep, it's that humid.
The weather here recently has been rainy. Not just rainy, but more like a monsoon season. When it rains, it does not rain in measurements of tenths, but in inches. The creeks are overflowing and the rivers are wreaking havoc on the people who live close to them. Lots of folks have been considering building arks.
All this rain tends to make people grumpy. Many years ago, when the girls were little and I ran a day care out of my home, I remember it rained or was cloudy for 26 days in a row. I don't care who you are, 26 grey raining days with a house full of kids would test the patience of Mother Teresa. It was depressing.
The neighbors' sump pump has been running for days and shoots a long stream of water down the sidewalk. Every time Runtly and I walk by, there is a line of toads and tree frogs, with little surf boards under their arms, waiting to ride the next torrent of water. It's quite a sight.
Along with the rain, comes the humidity. The air is thick and heavy with moisture. It's so humid that if you stand outside in one place for too long, moss will grow on your north side. Why, just the other day I opened a bag of ramen noodles, put them on a plate and set it out on the deck. They were ready to eat in about two minutes. The goldfish have been swimming in the air above the pond and this morning I saw a buffalo gnat wearing goggles with tiny windshield wipers on the lenses.
Yep, it's that humid.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Lost Faith
The first time I saw him, I didn't think too much of it. Since I'm becoming the nosy little old lady in the big house, I don't miss much in the neighborhood and I figured he was just passing through. The second time I saw him, I thought he might be lost.
I put a post on the social media giant FB to see if someone knew who he belonged to. The response I received nearly broke my heart.
This neighborhood wanderer is a dog. He's a large breed dog, a collie mix and he has been on the lam for over a year. It seems he has been abandoned, but no one knew to whom he had belonged. After reviewing all the comments, I realized what I had been seeing on my daily walks with the ever so entertaining Runtly, made sense.
We pass by an unoccupied house everyday. At the back of this property is a bush that has a large hollowed out cavity at the base. Every time I have looked at it, I've always had the thought that some animal had to have made it. Several of the comments supported this theory, along with the time frame, and I was amazed that I had not seen the dog before.
A couple of weeks ago, Sister Lela came for a visit and she accompanied the ever so entertaining Runtly and myself on one of our many jaunts around the block. As we approached the above mentioned property, we were chatting about the previous owner and looking around the house when we came across this dog. He was backed into a small enclosed area with only one way out. Having already told Lela about the dog, she stood in front of the only way out and began talking gently to him. The dog had no use for gentle words and uttered a low warning growl. I'm standing there, telling her to get out of the way. I reminded her that she was already down in the hip and if he bolted and knocked her down, it was going to be ugly. She finally stepped back far enough and the dog made his get away. I took Lela and Runtly home and told her she could not go on any more walks.
The dog has since found another unoccupied place to live but he needs to be caught. That is from where my next brilliant idea has hatched. I'm going to try to capture this dog if I can find a live trap big enough to hold him. Then I will need to find someone willing to rehabilitate him and to provide a good home. Perhaps I should do the second part of my plan first, because I can not keep this dog.
This dog has lost his faith in humanity, sometimes I think I understand why.
I put a post on the social media giant FB to see if someone knew who he belonged to. The response I received nearly broke my heart.
This neighborhood wanderer is a dog. He's a large breed dog, a collie mix and he has been on the lam for over a year. It seems he has been abandoned, but no one knew to whom he had belonged. After reviewing all the comments, I realized what I had been seeing on my daily walks with the ever so entertaining Runtly, made sense.
We pass by an unoccupied house everyday. At the back of this property is a bush that has a large hollowed out cavity at the base. Every time I have looked at it, I've always had the thought that some animal had to have made it. Several of the comments supported this theory, along with the time frame, and I was amazed that I had not seen the dog before.
A couple of weeks ago, Sister Lela came for a visit and she accompanied the ever so entertaining Runtly and myself on one of our many jaunts around the block. As we approached the above mentioned property, we were chatting about the previous owner and looking around the house when we came across this dog. He was backed into a small enclosed area with only one way out. Having already told Lela about the dog, she stood in front of the only way out and began talking gently to him. The dog had no use for gentle words and uttered a low warning growl. I'm standing there, telling her to get out of the way. I reminded her that she was already down in the hip and if he bolted and knocked her down, it was going to be ugly. She finally stepped back far enough and the dog made his get away. I took Lela and Runtly home and told her she could not go on any more walks.
The dog has since found another unoccupied place to live but he needs to be caught. That is from where my next brilliant idea has hatched. I'm going to try to capture this dog if I can find a live trap big enough to hold him. Then I will need to find someone willing to rehabilitate him and to provide a good home. Perhaps I should do the second part of my plan first, because I can not keep this dog.
This dog has lost his faith in humanity, sometimes I think I understand why.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Dog Doos & Don'ts
If I could throw a rock really well, I could land it in a corn or soybean field. Living on the edge of a small rural community, there is never a lack of local wildlife. We have opossums, raccoon and lots of red squirrels but, on occasion, there have been white tail deer in front of the house. A couple of years ago, we had a fox that raised her litter of eight in the culvert at the end of the block.
If you have followed along with tRuth As I See It, you know we have a dog, Runtly, the Jack Russel Terrier. Potty training this dog has been something of a learning curve experience. Right now we seem to be on the downhill side.....which was the first uphill side. The guide book for above mentioned breed of dog states it can take up to eight months for them to "get it". It is my deepest hope that on June 29th something magical happens. He has become a master at the disappearing and pooing act. I thought I was on top of this game until I had walked him for over 30 minutes only to return to find he had already left me a prize by the front door......inside the front door.
Runtly is a lot of things, but brave isn't one of them. Oh, he sounds brave when he is on the enclosed back deck, but when it comes to fight or flight, he always chooses flight. He does not like sirens, either in real life or on the television, or honking horns.
As I was standing outside the other morning, I could hear a flock of geese approaching. I thought Runtly would enjoy this new nature experience and called for him. The geese were getting closer and I picked him up so he could watch them. There must have been at least twenty or more and they flew right over at tree top level, in a perfect V formation........honking. That was enough for Runtly, all he wanted to do was get back in the house as fast as possible.
Another recent addition to the wildlife scenario has been a flock of five turkey buzzards. I see them almost everyday, lazily riding the warm air thermals circling round and round. Yesterday while I was on the back deck, one flew over. It was very low and had a couple of grackles in hot pursuit. I looked down at Runtly and he had a look of terror in his eyes. His tail was drooped and he was trying to crouch down to make himself smaller. I opened the door and he shot straight to his crate and stayed there for over an hour.
It's pretty obvious that Runtly is not and never will be a bird dog, but I'm thinking one of those inflatable garden owls hanging by the front door might be in our future.
If you have followed along with tRuth As I See It, you know we have a dog, Runtly, the Jack Russel Terrier. Potty training this dog has been something of a learning curve experience. Right now we seem to be on the downhill side.....which was the first uphill side. The guide book for above mentioned breed of dog states it can take up to eight months for them to "get it". It is my deepest hope that on June 29th something magical happens. He has become a master at the disappearing and pooing act. I thought I was on top of this game until I had walked him for over 30 minutes only to return to find he had already left me a prize by the front door......inside the front door.
Runtly is a lot of things, but brave isn't one of them. Oh, he sounds brave when he is on the enclosed back deck, but when it comes to fight or flight, he always chooses flight. He does not like sirens, either in real life or on the television, or honking horns.
As I was standing outside the other morning, I could hear a flock of geese approaching. I thought Runtly would enjoy this new nature experience and called for him. The geese were getting closer and I picked him up so he could watch them. There must have been at least twenty or more and they flew right over at tree top level, in a perfect V formation........honking. That was enough for Runtly, all he wanted to do was get back in the house as fast as possible.
Another recent addition to the wildlife scenario has been a flock of five turkey buzzards. I see them almost everyday, lazily riding the warm air thermals circling round and round. Yesterday while I was on the back deck, one flew over. It was very low and had a couple of grackles in hot pursuit. I looked down at Runtly and he had a look of terror in his eyes. His tail was drooped and he was trying to crouch down to make himself smaller. I opened the door and he shot straight to his crate and stayed there for over an hour.
It's pretty obvious that Runtly is not and never will be a bird dog, but I'm thinking one of those inflatable garden owls hanging by the front door might be in our future.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
We Still Don't Know
It was 5:30 in the morning when we heard it. We opened our eyes at the same time and my husband said in a sleepy voice, "What was that?" I did not know, but hearing strange noises in this house is far from uncommon.
This house we call home is one of four homes built with the same basic floor plan and all were constructed by the same man. His name was Robert Hall, but we have always called him Fred.
The legend of Mr. Hall says that he crossed the great divide between this dimension and the next in this house. For as long as I can remember, there have been doors open and close, footsteps in the hallway and other unexplained things that go bump in the night. Just last week I walked into my studio, previously a daughter's bedroom, and found both radio speakers laying on the floor. The speakers had set in the same place for months, perhaps Fred does not like my choice of music.
I've lived in this house for most of my life, other than a few years of sowing wild oats, and I have grown up knowing about Fred. A couple of months ago, as I was going down the basement stairs, something caught my eye. On the wall, written with what appears to have been a nail or an awl, was something I had never noticed. A name and a date. Robert Hall Nov. 5, 1921. I would hate to venture a guess as to how many times I have been up and down the basement stairs but I'm sure it would total somewhere in the thousands. How in the world had I not seen this before?
The early morning noise sounded like someone was dragging a chair across the back deck. Since I was wide awake, I got up and started the investigation. Nothing in the upstairs hallway seemed out of kelter, so I headed down to the kitchen. While my tea was brewing, I peeked out the back door and everything seemed in order there.
I always..... always.... go out the back door with my first cup of tea. But this morning the Voice, that lives in my head, told me to go to the front porch, on the south side. Since I have been paying better attention to the Voice, that is what I did. I opened the door, stepped out on the porch and there was the culprit of the early morning ruckus. The large maple tree, in my neighbor's front yard, heavy with days of rain, had split in half. Its once lofty boughs were now laying in my yard. Mystery solved.
It may not answer the question about when a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a noise, but it will wake you up.
This house we call home is one of four homes built with the same basic floor plan and all were constructed by the same man. His name was Robert Hall, but we have always called him Fred.
The legend of Mr. Hall says that he crossed the great divide between this dimension and the next in this house. For as long as I can remember, there have been doors open and close, footsteps in the hallway and other unexplained things that go bump in the night. Just last week I walked into my studio, previously a daughter's bedroom, and found both radio speakers laying on the floor. The speakers had set in the same place for months, perhaps Fred does not like my choice of music.
I've lived in this house for most of my life, other than a few years of sowing wild oats, and I have grown up knowing about Fred. A couple of months ago, as I was going down the basement stairs, something caught my eye. On the wall, written with what appears to have been a nail or an awl, was something I had never noticed. A name and a date. Robert Hall Nov. 5, 1921. I would hate to venture a guess as to how many times I have been up and down the basement stairs but I'm sure it would total somewhere in the thousands. How in the world had I not seen this before?
The early morning noise sounded like someone was dragging a chair across the back deck. Since I was wide awake, I got up and started the investigation. Nothing in the upstairs hallway seemed out of kelter, so I headed down to the kitchen. While my tea was brewing, I peeked out the back door and everything seemed in order there.
I always..... always.... go out the back door with my first cup of tea. But this morning the Voice, that lives in my head, told me to go to the front porch, on the south side. Since I have been paying better attention to the Voice, that is what I did. I opened the door, stepped out on the porch and there was the culprit of the early morning ruckus. The large maple tree, in my neighbor's front yard, heavy with days of rain, had split in half. Its once lofty boughs were now laying in my yard. Mystery solved.
It may not answer the question about when a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a noise, but it will wake you up.
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