My husband and I just got back from spending 2 glorious days on Damarscottia lake in Newcastle Maine. My good friend let us use her family cottage on 40 acres of woods with a 1 mile driveway and a private cove. At first, I was a little torn about going as this past weekend was 1 of the 2 big dog shows of the year in Maine. However, after watching the dogs swim, romp and enjoy giant raw knuckle bones that I reserve for such an occasion ( at home, Gimli tends to bury bones in the yard and then worries about them for days), I knew we made the right decision. We read... a lot, napped in the sun and picked newly ripened blueberries. At night we lit a small bonfire, watched bats flutter and listened to the haunting sounds of loons. The cottage is somewhat rustic with no electricity or running water,so we grilled every night and ate by candlelight. Here is a picture of me and Finn, one of my dog friends, sitting lakeside.
I broke up with my TV today. He is still in my living room, but for once he has nothing to say. My house is absolutely quiet. My TV and I go way back. To the days of the Shmoo, Little House on the Prairie and Mutual of Omahas Wild Kingdom. I was happy then with only 4 channels and and a black and white TV. At our house, Sunday nights were all about Walt Disneys Movie of the Week and The Walton's. Fast forward 30+ years...my plasma TV filled with over 200 channels, plus 6 different HBO's and a DVR to make sure I didn't miss a second of it. What happened? How did I get to this place of being completely addicted? Is the outside world so unbearable that reality TV has replaced reality of living? How can that be? So, just as I did when I quit smoking over 10 years ago, I have quit TV. Cold Turkey. OK...so I still have Netflix and Hulu...I dont plan on being a purist. My brain just needs an entertainment detox and admitting that one has a problem is the first step in conquering it. So I returned my DVR to the cable company, came home and looked at the dark screen staring back at me. Its like the end of the Stephen King movie Christine. Once they kill her, she is no longer a jealous, insane she-devil, but an old crappy car in a junk yard. My TV no longer has any power over me. At least that the mantra I will be telling myself during this self intervention.
My husband and I have planning on a new family member some time. As I type this our new prospective puppy is (hopefully) just a tiny little fetus not yet detected by ultrasound. However, I already have 2 puppy crates, an x pen and am playing mental tetras when I look at the innards of my van on how to add another dog. I always thought 2 would be enough...but the idea of having a another cardi, and having both my elder boys help me raise her (him?) is just too exciting to not pass up.
Puppy breath, puppy coat, big puppy feet...it all makes me smile! Fingers are crossed that the breeding took and we will have a new baby this fall!
Had a bit of a tough afternoon at the shelter today and shed a lot of tears over a sweet dog that had to go the bridge before her time. I felt lucky that I was able to do a little T touch work on her yesterday while she laid in the grass on a warm breezy afternoon. I came in today hoping to see her again, but she was given the gift of freedom from her neglected body. It was a day that I wonder how people can lack the ability to see suffering, and go one step further to abandon the suffering in a garbage infested home for 3 days. Fly high my little peach...you were loved...at least for a day.