PLAY HARD, WORK HARD

It was a nice time – it always is with this group of young ‘uns. Because the party was held a week in advance this year, none of my personal friends were able to attend, all being busy elsewhere. Besides my own kids, there was also most of those who were on our Mexican trip, so I guess the appropriate term here would be ‘extended family’, LOL! We were in and out of the host’s in-ground pool; adults laughing good naturedly when splashed by bomb dives of the children; chilled sangria punch and an ample cold buffet were distributed by the now-adolescent girls and, darn – but they have grown up so fast since last year!

My youngest son, daddy to the rug rats, had opted for a break from his gruelling schedule of work, boys and renovations. He came alone, and was happy to join me in my truck for the ride back to the house at 3 AM. He crashed on the huge sofa, and I went outside with two very joyful doggies. Our stroll lasted until the sun came up. At 5:30 AM I crawled into bed too, grabbing a short snooze before my son stirred. I drove him back to town for his vehicle, strolled once more with the dogs when I got home, then hit the sack again. I did nothing but sleep off and on the rest of the day.

With Suzie being here, my house has been neglected. Suzie left for Michigan this morning, and I won’t be rug rat sitting for the next two weeks, so it’s the perfect time to get back to serious work (on the business side) and a deep cleaning and shuffling and de-rat-packing...and have I created a new word?

Now that Fred’s little lady is living downstairs, the closets there need to be emptied of stuff that has been stored for ages. She could use the space. My higher level is in the same condition – as are many of the closets on the first level. It will be a Summer-Spring cleaning. I’ve made a self-promise that I really will shut my eyes and throw things into bags and boxes and actually rid myself of them. I mean it this time. Sigh.

One thing that I have been routinely doing is working with Smooch, and it is paying off. Although not yet totally well-behaved, he was much calmer when greeting my son this morning and, although he hesitated some, he did listen to commands in spite of a guest presence. It’s a huge improvement from even a few days ago.

My baby is growing up, and that makes me SMILE.

Sending you your share of those SMILES, folks, and wishing you the sweetest of dreams.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

BACK TO ROUTINE

Suzie is leaving early tomorrow AM – on her way home to Michigan. Her two week vacation passed quickly. We try to see each other as much as possible when she is here. Unless I can make it down to visit her this autumn, it will be Christmas before we meet again.

The poor girl – she lost both an aunt and a cousin during her visit this time – her cousin was only 57 and succumbed to that dreadful cancer. The funeral is today, so Suzie won’t be attending our annual birthday bash celebrating both my son and me. It’s happening this afternoon too. Who would feel like walking into a party right after saying goodbye to a loved one?

I’m sure my doggies, if they could be aware of what’s going on, would be happy to see her go. For the past two weeks I’ve been away every night for more than a few hours. Although she cares for animals, Suzie is not at ease around canines, so I’ve been going to her house after work. Now the normal routine will slip back into place; mistress will start giving them her undivided attention at day’s end. Because my son and his lady are on vacation too, I won’t even be away with the rug rats. These hounds will be in their glory!!

And I’m sure you have all seen how a doggie can SMILE!!!

Sharing them with you (Even one for Mr. Graysome!!)

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

WHY?

Nalou


Since school has shut down for the summer, the oldest of my rug rats, Nalou, has been spending his days either with his maternal grandparents or with me here at home. He has always been an observant child. Now, instead of just studying things in his quiet way, he has become a delegate for the word “Why?”. I’m sure he asked me a thousand questions yesterday, some that were not thought out, and each followed by another ‘why?’. My patience was getting frayed; concentration on my work was impossible.

“Why is your favorite word, isn’t it?” I finally said to him. That knowing little smile of his told me he knew this adult was near her point of exasperation. He nodded, and waited for all of 3 minutes to let things cool down before starting all over again. I put my accounting work aside. My grandson’s eyes widened with pleasure when he realized that he now had my full attention. What he didn’t know, and was about to learn, is that I’ve remembered how to deal with this. My oldest son, Bow, was the champion for questions when he was Nalou’s age.

“Why do you keep asking me questions?” I was looking straight at him. He shrugged, staring down at the pencil he had been twirling on my desk.

“Because I want to know,” he replied.

“But why do you want to know?” He looked up at me.

“Because I’m still young. I have lots to learn.” No doubt his dad had given him that information!

“But why are you still young?” He thought about it.

“Well...because...” He looked to the side – this was one he had to think about. “Because I was only born a little while ago.”

“Why were you only born a little while ago?”

His response was more a question than a statement. “Because my mother and father waited to have me?”

“Why did they wait to have you?”

Our conversation continued on in this vein, but it didn’t take him long to figure it out.

“I know why you’re asking me these questions,” he declared.

“Why am I asking you these questions?” I was trying to keep a straight face.

“Because I’m being a pest by asking you why all the time.” Another piece of information no doubt imparted by his dad.

“So you know that - and often if you think about it you’ll know the answer yourself!” He nodded again, pursing his lips in the ‘busted’ expression.

“Then why are you still being a pest?” I couldn’t hold it back any longer. He saw my grin and started to laugh.

“Aww, M’mere!!” he answered. That was quickly followed by a “Can we do something else now?”

Sure we could. I pulled out the hose for my central vacuum, gave him a few instructions, and let him go at it. It kept him busy for a half hour or so. By then it was time to pick up his younger brothers from daycare. We had not left the driveway when he pointed to the infuser hanging from my mirror.

“What’s that?” he asked?

“It’s to make the truck smell good.” I answered.

“Why does it make the truck smell good?”

“Why do you think it makes the truck smell good?” I parried. He caught my glance, and replied quickly.

“Because it’s an infuser.” He said. I looked back at the road.

“Uh-huh!”

Comfortable in our truce, we both SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

MEET DORA

Little Dora - a new tenant!


It was 5:30 AM when my grandson came upstairs to hug me goodbye. He’s off to the other side of the country for another 30 days of work. His little girlfriend will find it difficult, I know. I remember how just a few hours of separation from ‘the love of your life’ can hurt, can seem to last forever. No matter the thought that it would be worse if he was going to war – he isn’t, but it’s the absence that counts at the moment, not the reason.

She is planning to bring in plants, has pictures ready to hang on the wall, and has already moved in her little kitten named Dora. The door between our respective living spaces is always closed, and Dora will be an ‘indoor’ cat, but I will still have to keep a very careful eye on our hunter, Smooch. It would take one second for someone to forget closing the door tight...and I don’t even want to think about the result. I’m trying to train Smooch to not hurt smaller animals, but the instinct is obviously there. Can one change instincts, I wonder?

Marie and I don’t know each other well. “I don’t think you’ll see her that much,” my grandson told me. “She’s very shy.”

We didn’t get to spend time with one another since she moved in; those ten days were reserved for Fred when she wasn’t working. Last night, suspecting that she would be more at ease if I spoke to her in his presence, I knocked and went down to chat a moment. Well, okay, I wanted to see the kitten too, and to make sure the mouse poison had been safely removed. I told her to come on up (‘Just make sure you close the door behind you!’) if she needed anything. I also mentioned that she might want to give me her work schedule. During those periods when Fred is away, I do my vacuuming or laundry at 3 AM in the morning if I happen to be up...read often... and I know her summer job involves shift work. The central-vac is located just outside her bedroom, and it makes one heck of a racket, and the laundry room is downstairs too. I may have to change my ways, LOL!

I hope she will be happy here out in the bush, for her sake as well as that of my grandson. Time will tell.

In the meantime, I will also have a regular visitor in my 7 year old grandson, Nalou. School being out, he’ll be spending some days working with M’mère when his parents are on shifts. We go to pick up the two younger boys from daycare at 4:30, then I take them to their own home for supper and bath and bed.

Changes! I spent over a year living here alone with Bud and Grump, then just Grump. Slowly but surely the house is filling up again, and that thought makes me SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A FRIEND

Suzie has been here for the past week. My kids love it when she comes up from Michigan – she gets me out of the house, they say, and they’re right. This afternoon we attended the area’s annual German summer party. It’s held on a beautiful site deep in the bush, at a club they built with the help of Suzie’s father many years ago.

We were enjoying the scenery, the food, the chatting, and the live music. The one-man band fellow was well set up, and he had a nice voice. He had been playing for an hour or so when he knocked me for a loop. I heard the opening bars of the tune and I froze. It was Kris Kristofferson’s ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’. That was Bird’s favorite song; the one he chose for his funeral, and I hadn’t heard it since. I didn’t want to hear it now. Everything inside of me just kind of shut down.

I treat grief as a private thing. I know that holding it in is not good, but damnit, I was surrounded by people who were partying and this was not the place for tears. They came anyway.

I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until I felt her take my hand. She had been on the other end of the table, but now Suzie was beside me, holding tight. She remembered the tune too, and knew what I was feeling.

“Bird must have wanted to hear his song,” she said in my ear. “Let’s listen to it with him.”

I guess I nodded – I know I hung onto her until it was over. If anyone else noticed, they pretended not to. My mood had changed. A short time later those riding with me piled into my truck for their lifts home, Suzie included.

The phone rang an hour after I got to my house.

“You okay??” she asked.

“I will be,” I answered.

“I know,” she said.

And she does.

I realized again what a precious friend she is, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

FIRST LOVE

My grandson and his love - so cute!!


“So you’re going to have a new tenant?” My daughter smiled as she handed me a cup of coffee.

“Am I? Who? And when?” I inquired. It was no surprise that I was being told instead of asked. My offspring has been doing this to me since they were teenagers... with my blessing, I must add. More than one kid has spent a few nights in my spare room or on my couch for one reason or another. It was safer trying to fix problems from there than out in the street.

Names were shifting for position in my head. It couldn’t be my daughter herself; she had rented a beautiful apartment not long ago and I knew she loved both the place and the neighborhood.

There was my granddaughter – during her summer vacation she was working nights in the town closest to me. Her dad had moved into the city, and it was at least a 40 minute drive to her mom’s. I had offered my room upstairs at the time, but she had opted to stay either at her boyfriend’s place or up at her Dad’s cottage, both within easy hailing distance of her job.

My sons seemed quite happy in their relationships at the moment, so....

“Are you going to tell me now, or do I find out when they show up at the door?” I grinned at her. She was laughing when she answered me...

“Fred’s girlfriend came to supper last night. She told me she was moving in with Fred when he gets back from Alberta next week.”

Surprised? A little.

Since Fred had rented the apartment downstairs, I had only heard him mention one girl. It was obvious that he was smitten, but for the first year she never came around the house, and I suspected it was pretty much one-sided. Then last May, while home from Alberta for his 10 day break, I hardly saw the lad. He would come in and pick up some clean clothes, then be away again. When questioned, he told me he was staying at Marie’s place.

Ah – First Love! I smiled as I watched my oldest grandson swim blindly in the throes of it. He was totally oblivious to anything else. I don’t think he took out the garbage once the whole 10 days, nor do any other of the tasks expected of him. He showed up with only minutes to spare before his flight back to work out west. My daughter, who was here waiting to drive him to the airport, was not at all pleased.

“You don’t remember your First Love?” I laughed. “It’s the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but you become a zombie.”

“Okay,” she grumbled. “He’s had his 10 days of zombie-ness – now it’s back to real life.”

I guess she talked to him – we never discussed it, but I have noticed a change in his behaviour since his arrival last week. He’s back to being our Fred. His apartment is tidier, he’s in every night, and yesterday he spent a good 3 hours cutting my grass without being asked. I know his girlfriend is here too, although I’ve only glimpsed her coming and going. Then again, I’m still helping with the rug rats, and Suzie is here from Detroit, so I am in and out often myself; we kind of wave to each other in passing, LOL.

“Is Marie staying here when Fred goes back to Alberta next Tuesday?” My daughter answered my question with “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” Of course!

But I don’t think I need to question – when I stopped at the mailbox yesterday, I found among others an envelope addressed to our little Marie, at this address obviously. It looks like I do have a new tenant.

And the thought makes me SMILE. Sending you all your share, folks!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

SMOOCH AND 'BACK'

I take time each day to work with Smooch, who is now 6 months old. Because of the other dogs running around outside, most of the training is done in the house where he can focus. One activity that he enjoys is when I roll a ball to the end of the hall and tell him to ‘Fetch!’ He learned pretty quickly that obeying my command to “Bring it back” merits a yummy treat and high praise.

The first thing I do when we go out for our walks is hurl a ball down the hill. Smooch looks forward to the chase. Sometimes I don’t ask him to fetch right away, instead leaving him to play for a bit before we begin to train. He’ll pick it up and throw it further down the hill himself, running after it, doing it again and again. When the training does start, he may or may not return to me immediately. His response, especially with Grump as a distraction, is rather erratic. He is getting better though, yet the other day his obedience was the last thing I wanted!

I had thrown the ball onto the lower lawn, and away went Smooch, ears flapping in the wind. “Fetch!” I called to him. He was halfway down the hill when something on the ground caught his attention. He abruptly stopped, whipped around, and with his nose to the ground, went off to the side.

“Smooch!” I yelled. “The ball! Bring it back!” The darned pup didn’t even look at me. I saw see him pick something up and shake it.

“Not another poor little chipmunk!” I was thinking as I hurried toward him. Whatever is was escaped for a second, but man - that dog is fast!! It looked like he was spitting out grass before he pounced again, and I knew the victim was once more in his jaws. I kept repeating loudly for him to “bring it back”, attempting to remind him that he was supposed to be listening. He looked up at me, saw that I was getting closer, and decided that he would do as he was told. Only then was I able to see what he was carrying, and OH MY GOD!!

I froze! “No-no-no!” I yelled in panic. “NO!! Get back – Smooch, get BACK!!!” Understanding only the word ‘back’, and no doubt expecting a treat, Smooch kept trotting toward me...and I still don’t know how I was able to stay upright on my suddenly shaky legs, for dangling from his mouth was a writhing SNAKE!!!

Somehow, in my haze of terror, I realized that “Back” was not a word I should be using unless I wanted that thing dropped at my feet. I believe I started screaming ‘PUCK OFF WITH THAT, SMOOCH!! GET AWAY!”, but I wouldn’t swear it. Maybe I was just thinking it, because I was beginning to hyperventilate. I’m not sure I even got a word out. I certainly didn’t want him near me...and I feared that within seconds I’d be crumpled on the ground, a weak mass of shudders and shivers. I don’t know whether it was the confusion caused by my contradictory commands, or if that thing just managed to wiggle free – but Smooch lost it. He was spitting over and over. Being the hard headed pit, he continued trying to pick it up again. Unsuccessfully, thank the Lord!

I don’t know how long I stood there, gasping and trying to calm my nerves. My legs felt like jelly – but there was no way I was going to even kneel with that reptile still crawling around out there somewhere! Grump came over and nosed my hand, wondering what the fuss was about, but Smooch, after having pawed under the rocks for awhile, realized that his prey had escaped, so happily retrieved and continued to play with his ball. Needless to say, it was the end of training for that outing.

I live in the bush, and am aware there are creepy, crawly things here. This is the first time I have actually seen one on my land. I expect the dogs moving ahead of me make them scurry to hide, letting me enjoy my walk, pretending that they do not exist; out of sight, out of mind sort of thing. Smooch spoiled my illusion. He must have wondered why I was shunning him the rest of the day. UGH!

Yes, well, things happen for a reason. I have dreamed about snakes on occasion, and I would awake sweating, terrified to even put a foot on the floor beside the bed. It would take a light and much self-talk until I could come to my senses. I can’t explain why, when a snake showed up in my dream that night, I was quite calm, even when I recalled it the next morning. I stand in awe – I can actually think about one and not shudder. Could it be that Smooch inadvertently cured my phobia?

Maybe. We’ll see with time. I’m sure not going hunting for one to confirm either way. I’m also avoiding that patch beneath the rocks where all this happened. I watch very carefully when Smooch goes running, his ears alert, if it’s not in the direction of a ball. I’m sure any neighbor who sees me is wondering about my sanity and why, in all this heat, I am wearing rubber boots instead of sandals.

I’m sure you can picture it – and I expect it will make you SMILE. That’s okay – I’m laughing about it now too, so can SMILE right along with you.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.