Saturday, November 18, 2006

Two dogz by the fire

It doesn't get much better than this.

It started at 2 a.m. when a transformer blew and I lost all my heat and electricity. I rolled our layers of bedcovers and pillows into a bundle and schlepped it upstairs to the somewhat warmer guest room, carefully unrolling then tucking the dogz and me inside without disturbing the nicely made bed underneath (awaiting my mother's arrival later this morning--God forbid I would have to re-make the bed).

At 4 a.m. a city electric technician knocked on my door--dogz went berzerk--asking me to grant access to the easement in my backyard and replace the transformer. I did; he did; a dead raccoon plummetted into the hedge.

I looked up at the night sky--so much clearer from the blackout--admired the bright eyes of P and B (now flinging themselves at the windows) then gazed farther to Sirius and Canis Major. Felt glad I was up to enjoy it.

Around 8 a.m. P-dog barked me awake. I shuffled out back to retrieve the dead raccoon before the dogz could encounter it. Once I got over the cold and grogginess I began to enjoy hacking my way through the overgrown holly, productively pruning til I found the poor creature who actually looked alot like my favorite childhood cat. I shoveled him into a bag and let the dogs out. (Interesting how many dead things I've handled since P-dog entered my life.)

Spent the morning frantically cleaning house, vacuuming B-dog's blown coat, and berating myself for accepting my mother's invitation to "help out around the house" for a week before Thanksgiving.

Spent the afternoon immobilized by a technician's 5-hour window (from noon to 5; he arrived at 4:55 saying he might not be able to do my installation because all he had was a used part instead of the new one I needed).

Mom came, bought lots of groceries (including the stuff for my favorite comfort food casserole--hooray--and stuff I never bring into the house, like Cool Whip, hydrogenated chips, and fully leaded hamburger meat and a bargain packaged turkey (nothing hormone-free, organic, open range or vegan-fed around here this week, unless I sneak a Shelton's into the oven on Thursday).

After the technician left and the dogz stopped barking and I finished half my glass of Bordeaux and my third helping of Chinese noodle casserole I decided Mom should stay forever--OK, through Thanksgiving.

The dogz are ecstatic because they now get four plates of casserole residue instead of their usual lone dish of peanut butter toastcrumbs. My mother and her partner have gone to bed (it's 7:44 p.m.), and I'm here by the fire with my blogz and my dogz and the heater working and I'm the only one who likes the Bordeaux.

Nighty night.


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