Photo Challenge: STEAMY

This one has some marvelous variety to it, friends. I love it when I give you a prompt that seems weird (most of these entries didn't show up until Monday) and you just blow it up once you get past that feeling. Love it!

I know that I say this pretty much every challenge but I admire so deeply Our Cindy's ability to envision an image and make it spring out of her camera. I will learn from her. I will. Also, this photo is the steamIEST!

Well, someone who works in greenhouse environments would, of course, know what STEAMY is all about. That's Our Sara!

I think I've seen some of these same gauges at Pratt during the New Year's Eve celebrations. I have never gone underground and into the steam tunnels, though, the way Our Lisa did on her recent PacNW excursion.

Speaking of people who I admire for executing their visions of perfection, there's Our Karen. She created these costumes herself and they are absolutely brilliant. I'm almost embarrassed to show her my slapdash, safety-pinned mermaid costume.

I'm a little surprised that Our Janet didn't choose to give us a STEAMY photo of her fiance. This is cute, too.

Our Ana went the "I'm STEAMED" route with the prompt. She's a dedicated anti-pipeline activist so if you have any questions I bet she can point you toward answers.

This was, hilariously, the first picture I thought of when I posted the prompt. There is a STEAMY love affair between this dog and his trainer. Of course, even a red hot lover like Rocco can be distracted by chicken.

How do I top this last prompt? I do not know. I'm going to go with another kind of hard one. We'll be posting this right before Independence Day and I'm going to be tricky about that. Prompt is BLAST. Make of it what you will!

Please enter by 9am Tuesday July 2nd for posting on July 3rd. Tag your photos with PHOTO CHALLENGE and BLAST. Check out the wonderful work in our Flickr Pool for inspiration. Also, let me know if you have questions.

Coming At It From Another Angle

One of the subjects I've been kicking around but haven't been able to get out of my head and onto the blog has been people and how much they annoy me. Lately it's felt like all of the irksome behaviors have clustered around me and I'm being smothered by them. There were a couple of days when I considered doing one post each on the oblivious/mean woman with the unneutered bulldog, the evil/crazy anti-photography woman who is back again, and a roundup of every single person in Brooklyn who watches me pull my dog aside for training and crowds us anyway. My persecution complex fantasies were cranking up to threat level red*.

I couldn't get the words out, though. All of these interactions were tedious to live through and I couldn't even manufacture a desire to re-live them in the writing. I tried to sketch out a few of my woes in an email to jrh and petered out before I could be bothered. No one wants to read about stupid people doing nasty things. We get our fill of that first hand in everyday life.

Today I'm writing, though, because someone did something with intelligence and understanding when they really, really didn't have to. I am both impressed by and grateful to this unknown soldier in society's army. I want to name him Grey Worm and have him lead my hoards of purchased followers**.

Last year Ed decided that people should not be allowed to play tennis on the tennis courts in the park***. When they left the doors open he would charge the court and be very hard to remove. I worked on this half heartedly but mostly just kept him away from the trigger. This year I've been lucky that the courts were resurfaced, making them unusable for several weeks, as the weather was warming up. This past week, though, the courts have been playable and I've been working very hard to keep Ed at enough of a distance from them that he can be successful in ignoring the players. I've used all the appropriate counter-conditioning protocols to the best of my ability at 6:30 in the morning.

This morning I ran into a friend before we approached the courts and, since I hadn't seen her in a couple of days, I had some very important human social information to relay to her. We walked along the path and parallel to the tennis courts before I thought the route through. Suddenly Ed was barking at the fence. Tennis players were surprised but not afraid. I followed the rules and didn't chase him. I pointed my feet in the direction I wanted him to go and urged him to chase me instead. I offered him treats and kept calling. I wasn't close enough, I didn't have high enough value treats, and he was way over threshold for this stimulus. I have, honestly, only myself to blame. When he found the gate I watched with my breath caught because this is a dog who will cry in the hallway rather than push a bathroom door open if it's ajar and yet, with the promise of reprimanding the man with the tennis racquet, he stuck his head through the gap, wriggled his shoulders through one by one, and charged the dude.

All play on the courts stopped. The man used his racquet to shield his ankles. I pelted for the gate and called out that he wasn't a dangerous dog but he was persistent. I'm lucky I didn't brain myself trying to fling the heavy chain off the fence links to get inside. By the time I got to the problem I knew I had to do something better than chase my dog around this guy like a deeply under-rehearsed Keystone Kop. I said, "I'm going to try and chase him to the door." I couldn't explain further. I didn't expect help. I was hunched over waiting for the threats and anger to rain down.

**Insert choirs of angels singing here because with that one sentence and without hesitation this man performed an act that would get him sainted if I had anything to say about it.**

The guy ran for the door himself. The dog was chasing him specifically. He understood both that and what my strategy was and he acted instantly to help me execute the plan. I am actually choking up thinking about it because it was such an incredibly kind and productive thing to do. He didn't have to do anything to help me (though it was also helping him get on with his game) and he certainly didn't have to do it with good humor but he did and, thank goodness, we were both rewarded for it.

The guy squeezed out the gate and Ed followed right on his heels (not touching him, never touching him, it's the same policy the dog has for squirrels) until the guy was on the other side of the door then my pup pulled up short unable, I guess, to perform his Houdini act on the gate gap in the opposite direction. I scooped him up and just apologized and apologized and apologized in a continuous stream with all the breath I had.

Do you know what the tennis player replied to me?

"It's OK."

Sir, I honestly didn't think it was OK when I got up this morning but now I'm willing to entertain the possibility. Thank you. I needed that.

*I blame this season of Mad Men.
**Very sad that Game of Thrones is done for another year.
***More accurately I believe he's seeing people wielding weapons/racquets as a threat and reacting accordingly.
****For the dog nerds, I moved a safe distance away and leashed the dog. We did not leave the park but he was not unleashed again. I am not exactly sure what my strategy will be tomorrow, whether we'll go the other way or I'll increase the distance slightly and bring better treats. Thoughts welcome.

Fire Bad, Tree Pretty

If you're a Buffy fan you'll be able to identify the title of this post as a joke from an episode where Buffy is so scrambled by the episode's experiences that all she can really say is, "Fire bad, tree pretty." I'm about there right now. I have words. They are backed up. And, you know what? That's ok. I'm working on some pictures I took and I'm yearning to buy a couple of art supplies so I can paint while feeling guilty that I'm not singing more but letting myself be blocked from that by technical issues.

Isn't "Fire bad, tree pretty" better than that mess?

Here's something else pretty. More to come.

After Song

This could be a very short post.

The show was wonderful!

Boom. Done.

From my perspective it was the best of the run of this show. I had this corroborated by at least one person, too, so I feel comfortable telling you about it. Two things contributed to that success. The first is that I realized at some point while I was getting ready that this might be the last time I get to do this particular show for a long time so I might as well take advantage of that sort of freedom. Also, Pony Express came by to make sure I had my head screwed on straight, as there was some question earlier in the day, and before she left the green room to take her seat in the audience she told me, "Close your eyes, take a breath, and remember the first time you realized you belonged here." It wasn't easy to narrow it down to one time and to be sure it was the first but I got one that meant a lot to me. The giddiness and excitement I felt all those years ago was infectious in the best way.

Possibly the best moment of the night could easily have been the worst. For some reason the song in the show that I've known the longest, "If I Were A Bell" from Guys & Dolls, is the one I have the most trouble getting through. I mix up lines or forget where I am or just wind up trailing off all together in a dribble of syllables. I was having a glorious time doing the show, it was so much fun that I actually started to groove out a little as Daryl played the intro to the song. Head down, eyes closed, I listened to the music and knew exactly where I was supposed to come in. I breathed and looked up and yet...there were no words in my mouth.

It could have gone a lot of ways but in the same way that the words just weren't there laughter was. I burst out laughing and told everyone the truth. I was having so much fun I failed to come in on time. They laughed and I'm pretty sure it was with, not at, me. Then I asked Daryl to start again and we did and when my cue came up again the words were right where they were supposed to be. So were all the rest of the words for the song and the show. It was actually one of those moments in live performance that make it better than other kinds. No one is ever going to see that show go exactly that way ever again.

If the goal is to go out on a high note then I reached goal and kissed it square on the mouth.

P.S. I got my 20 folks because I know awesome people who aren't afraid of drowning in the streets (even when they should be). Thank you to everyone who attended!

To Avoid Disappointment

I will not be wearing this costume tonight. I didn't want you to get there and be disappointed. I mean, knee pads don't turn me on but some of you guys are pretty kinky.

Tomorrow's The Day

I woke this morning to cancellations.

You see, I'm working at a new venue tomorrow night performing the show that ran three glorious nights this winter in midtown. With new venues come new rules and, as it turns out, new penalties. I absolutely understand why they impose "cancellation fees" on shows with audiences below a certain number but to deal with that one needs to have a firm hold of their nervous system.

There's a lot going on in New York. There's a lot going on in the lives of most adults. Sometimes weather happens...in a city where people generally walk places. The art of the RSVP, while not lost, is certainly wandering the desert without a map and I say that not as an indictment of anyone else but as an admission of my own failings. Sometimes people reserve very early and don't come. Sometimes people don't reserve at all. Sometimes people reserve early or late and actually do come. The one thing you can count on is you just never know.

I need to have 20 sets of eyeballs on me when the first strains of Sentimental Journey are tickled from the ivories at The Duplex tomorrow at 7pm. The wonderful staff there keeps me updated with the reservation list and, up to this morning, it was climbing slowly and steadily. I'm not kidding that the very first thing I saw when I opened my email and social media today was a sure-thing audience member canceling and she wasn't the only one. Someone was reserving, too, and I've still got some maybes. I honestly think I will have the 20 sets of butt cheeks required to avoid embarrassment but we're getting the dregs of a hurricane tomorrow so....you never know.

My practical brain continues telling people about the show while remembering that I decided to do this as an experiment and with the full knowledge that it could go every which way but loose. If I don't meet the requirements I believe I still get to do the show for whatever the audience turns out to be and the fee is just money. The part of me that picks pennies up off the sidewalk is in full on panic mode. The part of me that needs and wants to sing her heart out tomorrow night is wondering exactly how she's going to muzzle the penny picker-upper for that one glorious hour of performance. I'll do it. Somehow. That bitch can't keep me down.

She can't break me because I've been rehearsing this show for the last few weeks and every time I sing through it I get a smile on my face. Hanging out with Daryl and tweaking things here and there is one of the great joys of my recent days. I'm proud of what I've written and I love to tell a joke and I can't wait to see the reactions of people new to my work. I'm nothing but lucky to have this sort of opportunity.

I'd be lying, though, if I didn't say that I need your help. Even if you aren't in the area maybe you know someone who is. Maybe you know someone else who knows me. Maybe you don't even know but when you boost this signal one person will decide to come see the show and that's one more than I had before. So I humbly ask you to share this information (also found here on Facebook) with anyone and everyone you know (and don't know, tweet your heart out!). I promise to tell you how it went and even to post the video from this winter...just as soon as I've RSVP'd to a few invitations.

Photo Challenge: BOOST

As you may remember this photo challenge went up shortly after some terrible tornado damage in Oklahoma. During the 2 week submission period there has been more trouble in the same areas so I'm pleased to announce that we had 9 photographers submit photographs this time around which means $45 for Girl Scouts of Western Oklahoma and $45 for Forever Yours, an animal rescue organization doing hard labor in the aftermath of the storms. I'm going to round it up to $50 each and it's still not much but it's something and every little bit helps, we all know that. Thank you to everyone who participated and to everyone who has donated to the cause.

Please let the photographers know how much you appreciate them and scroll down for the next prompt. Anyone can join! (Now I have to disclaim that. Anyone who can navigate the maze of the Flickr update can join.)

Technically this one was for the previous prompt, ART, but it came in late and I didn't catch it in time to include it in that round up. I'm including it here both so we don't miss it and to be able to count it in our donation tally. I can't believe that Our Ana got this close to Buddy Guy! I've seen him live once but I was much farther away.

This is Neptune, a demonstration dog in a class for dog trainers that I audited last weekend. They were teaching her drop it but she's such a good girl that she wasn't excited enough about anything to hold on to it long enough to learn so they tried to rile her up. Look at her eyes. She is so confused but so happy to be playing a game.

Yet again Our Lisa makes it super hard for me to choose. She offered three spot on, fabulous shots for this prompt. I feel as though this is the "best" one but your mileage may vary. You should check out her photostream to decide for yourself.

Are we not all boosted by a goofy dog? Thanks to Trashalou for indulging us. Bonus points for displaying the dog on a quilt made of O for Oklahoma!

This photo makes me think two things. 1. Despite being somewhat afraid of heights I've always thought it would be nice to take a balloon ride. 2. Our Sueb0b looks very different after her commitment to a healthy eating regimen. She looks lovely in this shot, which is from 2007, but so different from the woman I am used to seeing over the past year. Gorgeous no matter which year you drop in on her!

I feel like we stole this pic from the pages of a teen magazine self-esteem column. No, no, it's just something Our Bethany took at a party in their Brooklyn home. It's fantastic and so was the party!

I love when Our Janet posts photographic evidence of what she feeds her dog because it reminds me that I am not alone! Holistic pet care really works, you guys, and our pets are living proof.

I have known Our Alisun most of my life and she has always had a killer sense of humor. I think this interpretation of BOOST proves it.

There is something absolutely surreal about this view out Our Cindy's office window (I think) even though I know that geese can fly. I have so many questions. Why there? Why is he alone? Do the rest of his Vee know he's gone? Did he at least leave a note?

Friday night is my show. Please, please, please, even if you can't come can you find some way to talk it up? I am 7 people short of the magic number and, while I'm pretty sure I will have at least 20 folks there, the reservation list does not reflect that...yet. As soon as that's done I go home, sleep fast, get up, walk the dog, pick up the rental car, and head North for my cousin, TG's, annual lobster bake. For those unfamiliar with this practice you pack lobster, corn, clams, hot dogs, and eggs in seaweed and steam them in seawater. Once you've have lobster (or corn or clams or, really, even hot dogs) done that way every other way pales in comparison.

The next prompt? STEAMY. Doesn't have to mean seafood. Run with it!

Please enter by 9am Tuesday June 18th for posting on June 19th. Tag your photos with PHOTO CHALLENGE and STEAMY. Check out the wonderful work in our Flickr Pool for inspiration. Also, let me know if you have questions.

Another One of Those Days

Yesterday my cousin and aunt said goodbye to their boxer, Baxter. I haven't gotten the full story but I do know that he was getting on in years so his departure might have been coming for a bit. That, of course, doesn't make it any easier to take.

Baxter was one enormous ball of muscles constructed out of love. With a side of tongue, the better to lick you with. He was a persistently adoring goofball...unless you were a woodchuck. (Be thankful I spared you the photo of him showing off his trophies.)

It's time to follow our tradition to honor him. Today is a Treats for Everyone Day in Baxter's name. No matter what your pets may be doing at least they're here to do it so it's time to shower them with all that they love best. When I get home Ed and I are taking a walk with Leah & Rocket and I'll probably bring along something extra disgusting for the boys to snack on. And, though it's against all of the doctors' orders I'll probably give the cats some dog kibble. I know that sounds ridiculous but they love that stuff.

Godspeed sweet boy, you're deeply missed.

*All photos are unabashedly stolen from my aunt's facebook feed. The last one is my favorite photo of Baxter ever taken. He was a good supervisor.

Thrill of the Night

There are drawbacks to living in close proximity to a whole big bunch of folks. Usually they run to the crowded subways, loud car stereos, and interesting smells emanating from weird places. They can, however, be more dangerous than that.

About three this morning I woke up because I smelled one of those smells. It happens. In this neighborhood we've even had the occasional mystery smell that finally gets tracked down miles away in a different town. I didn't think it was anything until I heard the sirens. So, despite not wearing much, I got up and looked out the window and it turned out that the firefighters were coming into my building. At that point it seemed prudent to pinpoint the problem. My first thought was, "Shit! I better check to be sure it's not my apartment!" It wasn't. I then called the security booth where an extremely flustered young man responded to my query about which apartment they were investigating with, "I don't know, ma'am! I have a lot of paperwork to fill out!" I hung up in him. He didn't seem super good in a crisis. I still didn't find this a pants-worthy problem but when I went to check and see if the firefighters were, perhaps, leaving the building I saw two of them were and they were doing it at a run. That slammed a thumb on my panic button.

The good part about this whole thing is that it turns out I have a basic plan for evacuation and I can execute it under pressure. The animals were still unaware of the excitement which worked to my advantage. The fact that I'm lazy and still had two cat carriers sitting on the floor in the living room so I didn't have to alert anyone to my scheme was also a plus.  I snuck up on one cat and popped her in a carrier, only having to shove the top of her head a couple of times. I fished the other one out from under the bed and jammed him in the other carrier while quietly blessing myself for recently cutting his nails. Then I snapped the leash on the dog. He was extremely interested by that point, it's not every day we get ready for a walk at 3:30 in the goddamned morning. After that was accomplished I actually put pants on and a shirt and socks and shoes. I sat on my bed, sneakers unlaced and phone charging, watching the action which I could now see out my window.

Meanwhile the firefighters had broken out the window, used a saw, walked a hose across the entire courtyard and up four flights of stairs. It's hard to tell the difference between the flicker of flames and the flashing of the red emergency locators they wear. Pretty sure I was seeing only the latter. Eventually they jammed a charred mattress out the window. Then they pried off the entire window frame and chucked that on top. A little more breaking glass. A bunch of tromping boots. At least 4 other trucks full of firefighters watching from below and then...nothing.

The grapevine has been working overtime all day, of course. The tenant and her two cats were taken in by neighbors. Was she smoking in bed or was it electrical? Should we be mad at her or at the management? Who can we blame? I'm actually surprised that there hasn't been a bunch of flak about the fact that the glass and mattress are still out on the roof. While I'm certainly a sneering anti-smoker and if she endangered my life by doing something that stupid I will have a piece of my mind reserved to hand her and if the wiring is to blame I will absolutely light my torch and join the mob there's no proof and all is actually well that ends well.

Everything is fine here. We're just tired. And researching co-op insurance.

Poetry Prayer #18

One of the reasons I dislike being super busy is that it usually means I don't get to hang out as much with my dog. Not only do I really enjoy him, when he's restless our lives are no fun. I don't blame him. He gets bored and, for the most part, the ways to relieve that boredom involve being with people and dogs and I'm the one who facilitates that. The frustrating thing is that yesterday he was alone for the largest chunk of time because I was working toward a long-term goal (it'll probably take a couple of years) of becoming a dog trainer so that I can hang out with him more. Nothing's perfect.

Last night I was serenaded by the dulcet tones of repeated hideous altercations between Ed and the cats. Everyone is to blame. Even (especially?) me. In honor of that I bring you a poem by Jimmy Stewart. Yes, that Jimmy Stewart.

"Beau"

by Jimmy Stewart

He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.

When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.

Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.

He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.

He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.

On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.

He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.

But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.

We are early-to-bedders at our house--
I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.

He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.

And before very long
He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.

And there were nights when I'd feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I'd pat his head.

And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
and I think I know the reason why.

He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.

And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.

And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he's not there.

Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
I'll always love a dog named Beau.

Sad Stars

Google Reader goes away on July 1st. We're a month away from that deadline and I haven't done anything to wean myself off of it. I think I'll go with Feedly but it would be nice if I did that more than 12 hours before the whole thing goes POOF! Well, it's not going to happen today so instead I will just revel in my beloved starred file and share some stuff with you.

Our Sueb0b recommended a friend's food/recipe blog. I don't always fall in love with those. This one is fantastic. It's called Kalyn's Kitchen and I think you might find something you like there. A huge chunk of the starred file is full of her posts after I fell down a rabbit hole into the site at lunch yesterday. Gremolata? I had no idea!

Here's a great quote from Oklahoma State Rep, Doug Cox, asking what happened to sanity in the Republican party. I've been asking some of these questions for a long while, it's nice to hear them going out to a wider platform. His angle isn't perfect, as the post explains, but it's a step in the right goddamned direction.

While we're on the subject, I haven't followed through to read all of the articles associated with this but if you haven't been reading even a little about Kermit Gosnell please spend some time on it. This post is a decent place to start. The anti-choicers are, of course, using him to bolster their argument but if you follow the horror to its logical end you have to see that he's the reason we need abortion to be legal and safe. Safety first!

Can't stop there. Outside of the US there are problems, too. El Salvador is denying a woman a life-saving abortion. Let us distill the governmental response here; while calling themselves pro-life they are going to allow a woman and her fetus to die. Just let a productive member of society die a potentially brutal death. I don't think that word means what they think it means.

Schmutzie, a blogger I have long enjoyed and met a couple of times, wrote a great post that stirred up a bunch of feelings for a whole lot of people. It's a list of things that child-free people are told by some parents. The most admirable thing about the whole hoopla is, I think, the variety of responses that came from the online community she has created. The most galling thing is the number of people who have tried to tell her that these things never happen. They do. All of them. I told another child-free person about #6 and before I could even finish the thought she was nodding ruefully. Don't dismiss this. Think about it. (I'm linking to the Blogher publishing of the post, it was first published on Schmutzie's site. It's worth going to both to see the comments.)

Palate cleanser! Flowers made out of the bones of rodents. Cool. Though maybe I shouldn't call that a palate cleanser.

Many of you are doing a lot of gardening these days. Great resource for that is Sara's blog, which she's recently begun updating again with delightful photos for illustration.

Ok, let's dive back down into the muck. Did you hear about #FBRape? Facebook took offense to breastfeeding photos and gave their reasons as the pornographic nature of such images but continues to allow pro-rape pages to proliferate in their space. Users took action using #FBRape to target advertisers and ask them to quit advertising until justice and intelligence could be served. Some companies responded well, some very poorly, and thirteen companies pulled their advertising. Facebook's response, a step in the right direction yet not a solution, is here.

Coincidentally this went down the same week that it was announced that Sheryl Sandberg, COO of Facebook and author of popular non-fiction title Lean In, will be a keynote speaker at Blogher '13. They will be accepting pre-submitted questions for the Q&A. I look forward to a lively discussion.

Interesting infographic about parental leave policies at tech companies. I especially like the ones where the maternal and paternal time off policies are the same.

Another high note, the Supreme Court declined to even hear testimony on an Indiana law to defund Planned Parenthood. It's like chipping away at a glacier but I like to see the ice cubes fall.

Let's end on something light, quick, and funny. I went back and read this over and over so I could keep chuckling. 

City Sermon

Some days the whole world is our classroom.

Three men are standing near each other on a sidewalk in front of a store window. Men A and B are talking to each other. Man C is concentrating on his cell phone as if looking up information for the continuation of his journey. Suddenly Man C sneezes and walks off. He makes a vague gesture toward covering up but it's not even close to the oft-preached chicken wing technique. Man A immediately gets a sour look on his face, waves a newspaper in front of himself as if to dissipate the snot spray, and wanders away from the area. As he wanders Man B trails along behind. They manage to cut off several pedestrians in the through-way, slow the flow of traffic in that lane of the sidewalk, and finally come to rest directly in front of the store's one point of entry or exit, completely blocking it. Man A maintains his expression of disbelief that someone could be so inconsiderate as to sneeze without noticing what impact that might have on the people around him.

Thus endeth our real life lesson of the day. The theme? Practice what you preach.

Poetry Prayer #17

I saved the poem for the holiday. This is from T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland. It's just a tiny excerpt.

The Wasteland

by T.S. Eliot

V. What the Thunder Said

After the torch-light red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and place and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience

Dog Drinks

It's probably about time we had a little fun, don't you think?

Yesterday Michelle and I walked the dogs in the park and through the greenmarket despite the chilly temps and persistent rain. We were all shivering and sad about it but glad for good conversation to keep our minds off the fact that it was May and we were still wearing elements of our winter clothing.

On the way home I explained Drunk Dog Training. It's probably a terrible idea but Sara and I seem to be having some success with it. We drink wine, chat, and train our dogs to do silly things. Currently we spend a lot of time teaching them to whine on cue...rather than all the damn time like they do now. They're getting pretty good. I explained that we'd be expanding our drunk dog training posse tomorrow because we planned to take dogs and people to a local pub after our regularly scheduled training class. This revelation of our insanity led to the following:

Michelle: Will the dogs be drinking?

Me: Probably not. I suspect Rikke won't let us get them drunk.

Michelle: What would Ed's drink of choice be if he did drink, though?

Me: (without pausing for thought) Old fashioned.

Michelle: With our without the fruit?

Me: (talking over her) Definitely with the fruit!

As I walked the rest of the way home after Michelle peeled off I wondered if I was right. Ed is sort of an old man, it might be the right drink for him. He's awfully picky. He'd probably specify his whiskey and refuse to have a drink if the bar didn't stock the right brand. He might be a wine, guy, though. He doesn't have strong appetites. He'd probably be a super snobby wine guy if he had wine.

Now, Emily, I'd have to call her a beer drinker. She'd be the girl the guys loved to hang around because she drank beer just like them. She wouldn't be picky about it, either. She'd be happy to drink a microbrew or a Guiness but she'd be just as happy with a Rolling Rock or a Brooklyn or whatever was on tap that day. If she lived in England she'd be a lager girl, Carlsberg all the way.

My cats? Wine spritzers. No question. If they'd lived in the 80s they'd have had stock in Bartles & James. Light weights, both of them, who probably shouldn't be drinking anyway, for mental health reasons.

Your turn, what would your pets drink, if such a thing were at all possible.

*No one at this blog condones serving alcohol to animals. Ever.