Naptime.

One by one Nonie strolled the grounds collecting each scarecrow.
She brought them to the front garden for a nap.

And when she was done tucking them in amongst the leaves and weeds, she seemed so content with her two-year-old-mother-hen-self.

Simple Demands.

Twice today Nonie barked orders at me. And twice today I was caught off guard.

The first time was when I stood outside waiting for Dec's bus and she wanted to come but (at that very moment) was without pants, shoes, jacket, or hat and had a terribly runny nose. So I didn't let her out.

"Come in!" she demanded. "Come in!" she barked once more.

When I turned to ask her who would get Dec if I came inside?

She answered quite emphatically: "COME IN!".

The second time she bossed me was when I raised my head after lying with her for 20 minutes telling her stories about how much I love her. I lifted my head to scratch it and she again yapped:

"Lie Down!". "Lie Down!". "LIE DOWN!"

Whoa Nonie.

But she had a day today. Not terrible, but rougher than most.

And as I sit and type and she lies and sleeps, it makes me happy to know that home is where she wants to be.

And by home I mean nestled inside our cozy Happy House.

And by home I mean, nestled inside my arms.

Now - hours later, I replay her two simple demands of the day and know that they translate to so much more.

woah baby

Today was a rough day to be Drakeson Murphy. And when it's a rough day for your dog, well my friends, it's a rough day for you, too.
It all started with a run we went on Saturday morning. It was awesome! The longest one the pooch and I have gone on together. Which means, sadly, the longest run I've been on since we got him. Which is, sadly, not even as many miles as fingers on one hand.
Oh alright, anyway. Drake-Murphdog could run forever in this weather. So sometimes (especially up a hill) I yell "MUSH" like he is a husky running the ice-roads of Alaska and implore him to pull me faster!faster! up the hill.

All's not well that ends in this perma-limp I've had since I pretended to be Sarah Palin on her new TLC series.

Which's brings Ddog and I to a hobble of a run this morning in the 5:30 darkness. But also, isn't it supposed to be a little bit lighter in the morning? I forget every year how this all goes down. Dog did not appreciate the abbreviated hobble and refused to wag his tail for the rest of the morning (he hates Mondays).

After a sleeting drive home I rescue Murphdog and attempt to video-capture his maiden voyage into the snowy yonder. Psssht, please. He's seen it all before and was far less excited than I had anticipated. The only thing that really excited him was nibbling on other dogs' frozen poops. Which is when his bad day really took a turn for the worse. Woah baby did I tell him I was mad at him! My dog-whispering abilities tell me that this is what snow makes him think of... surviving on frosty terds in wild. Well let me tell you how much longer that will last.

Not much.

I hope.

Ddog and I were hardly on speaking terms when we got back to the house. Only long enough for me to brush his teeth and feed him peanut butter so his breath didn't smell like... well.

We sat in silence while I did some research on chameleons and seahorses so when pops got home we jumped at the chance for the Drake to go for another walk.

Well if he didn't come back with burrs from one end of his tail to the other than I just don't know what.

We spent the next hour picking them out. Woah baby does he hate anything going on near his tail!

My poor pup. He really doesn't care for Mondays (through Fridays) and I feel a bit helpless about it all. Not helpless enough to let him delight in eating feces, but you know, helpless. This winter weather has us dreaming of our summer days together when we frolicked for hours on end and ran often enough not to get gait-altering injuries. I just hope I'm doing right by him. There have been several e-posts on a community bulletin board lately about a family who's Tennessee-rescued pooch that they've had for a few weeks ran off and has anyone seen him. My heart has ached each time. I've seen these messages for a few weeks now and this morning there was, what might be, the final note. About a dog- that matched the description, having been spotted, lifeless, on the side of the highway. I looked at my Drake. With whom I have already been through a bundle of highs and lows. And I counted my blessings for each opportunity I have had to live his life with him.

And it gets me thinking.

Maybe the bad days aren't so bad afterall.

Cocktail Party!

I go to a lot of cocktail parties.
I do.

Cocktail partying is a skill - kind of an art form.
It is.

Communicating effectively when you can't hear anything.
That's hard. But I can do it well.

When I'm at cocktail parties I try to stand really tall and always be thinking about my next move.
It's like a game.

A tense, but fun, but stressful game of maneuvering, quick thinking, small talk....
"Check mate, another bacon wrapped something or other please!!!!"

I go to a lot of cocktail parties.
Like, a lot.

And usually by the last 1/2 hour everyone has their eye on the door.
But THIS EVENING?

The fabulous caterer at the party this evening sent her servers through the party with 1/2 hour to spare. They each wore an antique cigarette carrying cases (around their necks) filled with..........?
(Not cigarettes)

PENNY CANDY!!!

Brilliant! Suddenly, everyone was happy and no one had their eye on the door.
And my smile grew as big as those apple slices up there.

Oh, right - the apple slice smiles.
That happened last week when we made apple slice desserts (with peanut butter and marshmallows).

While I've grown to love cocktail parties, if given the choice:
I'd not hesitate to spend an evening at Happy House devouring apple slice smile desserts with my sweet ones. There simply is nothing finer.

Wednesday Smiles

Here are two pictures that should bring a smile to your face.


I've always wondered what "shape face" I have when you see those magazine articles about what kind of sunglasses to wear if you're oval or round or whatever it might be. I've wondered but I haven't really done much research. Well, my questions was answered today when one of my boys gave me this portrait of yours truly.


In other news.
Drake gears up for the winter cold.

let's do this

Well old man.
Looks like you're here to stay.
The winter pajama uniform of head to toe fleece is already well worn.
You have blown your cold breath of frost and snow onto the leafless mountains.You make me leave for work in the dark and get home pretty close to it.
My car has lumbered into its deep winter chill which requires my revving the gas pedal while turning the key. A little foot tap of support on my part to keep everyone's spirits up.
I do not dare to set foot out the door without tea in hand to ensure that my mitts don't numb from the cold.
Though I am wearing my gloves they are purely fashion over function and I won't let you take that away from me.
That's right.
You heard me.

Fashion
______

Function

Joy in Macaroni.

Last week, this macaroni sheet jumped off the school bus and walked into my house. And I?

I've never felt such joy or pride. In fact, I paraded it around the house for a solid 20 minutes.

I hope kids everywhere get a chance to create something out of macaroni.

I have such fond macaroni memories. This is joy defined.

Frustration of course, when the macaroni takes on a life of its own during the gluing process.

Then, nothing but joy (PRIDE EVEN!) when beholding the masterpiece.

Or should I say,

Pièce de résistance

.

(Oh Monet, are you turning in your grave?!) (Good.)

Now I'm just waiting for the macaroni necklace. You know, the one with huge purple and orange feathers?

I may just faint when that necklace jumps off the bus and through my kitchen door.

But when I put it on, I might just be the proudest mother on the planet.

This macaroni? This is the good stuff.