Just Chillin'

The Prince and the Puppy

Well…the little Prince George Alexander Louis has gone home. I’m hoping we can slowly go back to normal and let the hysteria die down. All this talk of the little royal is fine, I suppose, but I would really like to get back to important things.  Like Puppy. 

Puppy doesn’t poop. Puppy doesn’t scream; Puppy doesn’t need a car seat, and all the hysteria about whether a car seat is hooked in properly is completely moot. I just need to spray her with a mild soap solution every now and again to keep the pests away (unfortunately I didn’t start this quite soon enough, and there is a small hole in one of her leaves.)

I’m all for human procreation, don’t get me wrong, I’m just glad that for me, the equipment is…er…past its expiration date.  Grandchildren are far more fun. 

And Puppy is far less exhausting, something you don’t really think about a lot when you are twenty-something, but when you are forty-something approaching fifty, is a salient point.

 

That being said, I do think it would be fun to order the cute little receiving blankets that the little prince went home in.  Puppy would love them, come winter.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

I took Puppy home for the weekend, and at first she seemed…unhappy with it.  Her leaves drooped and I feared the worst—that I was a Puppy killer.  She is living on my deck, where she gets full sun for a few hours a day, which has really improved her coloring. Over the past few days she has grown a full inch, if not two.  I haven’t taken any pictures of her yet, hoping to allow her a good amount of time to adjust.

I have to keep a careful eye on the temps, as the blazing heat sucks the moisture right out of the ground, it seems.  Fortunately, she is in a glazed ceramic pot, so if I water enough, the pot soaks in a lot of water which is an extra source of moisture as the soil dries out.

From her new perch, Puppy gets to see barn swallows flitting about, and has visiting finches gathering about, ignoring her completely, as they go about their own business, but still, it’s something to see. A large chocolate lab lives above us, so we all get to hear her lumbering about. It’s amazing how much noise a large dog can make!

Sometimes kids come and play in the parking lot, their cheerful cries lifting on the breeze, and the sunsets have been glorious. At our elevation, I’m surprised to find that we are among gentle hills. I didn’t know that. Everything seems so relatively flat, compared to living at the base of the Rockies.

My sense of perspective is skewed, and my directional compass is a bit out of whack.

It occurs to me that Puppy will soon outgrow her current pot, and so I’m on the lookout for a larger one, keeping in mind that it will have to be portable, as Puppy will have to spend the winters indoors.  It’s supposed to take seven years before Puppy will bear fruit.  I hate to think how old that will make me, and in my most fertile imagination I cannot fathom where we will be living.

What happens to Puppy if I get to live my dream and spend a couple of years in Tierra del Fuego? Spend a season in Tuscany rebuilding an old farmhouse straight out of a Diane Lane movie? Who will make room for her in their lives and homes and care for her tenderly and faithfully?  Who will remember her when she was nothing but a dried out pit wrapped in a paper towel?  And, more importantly, will they give her back to me upon my return?

And Now We Return to Our Program...

Duh, Duh, Duuuuuuun....

Between you and me, I’m rather disturbed that Arya hasn’t appeared, while Puppy has been experiencing incredible growth. 

I hate to speculate, but it occurs to me that Puppy may have (come closer, because I need to whisper here) consumed her own sister.  

It’s a horrifying thought, but apart from digging up the ground to investigate and possibly killing Puppy in the process, it’s really only conjecture.  I’m going to keep my eye on her, though.  Any creature that would devour its own sister could do anything.

In an unrelated topic, I’ve been listening to old time radio dramas lately, “Dragnet” and “Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar”.

Puppy Progress

Don't you just hate it when people gush about their children, sending you endless photos of them playing Pee-Wee soccer, blowing bubbles, etc.?  Me neither.  So I figured you wouldn't mind the latest snapshot of my little bundle of joy. 

Welcome to the World, Mango Girl!!!!!

 

I am delighted to report that my patience has been rewarded!  Puppy has sprouted overnight!!!!!  There is a good 1 1/2 inches of growth above the soil!

Arya has not yet made an appearance, but could she be far behind?

We are doing the mango dance here in the office, with everyone ooo-ing and ahh-ing.  It all feels rather silly, but the excitement is real.  WooHoo!!!!!

And then he says...

"We're moving." 

And I said, "No, we're not."

So we didn't.  The end.




...and then I woke up. 



Why does anyone move ON PURPOSE?

Trees are smarter than that.  Unless they're ENTs and live in Middle Earth, or have the misfortune of being planted by people who grow them in pots.

No wonder Puppy hasn't made an appearance yet.

Independence Day Long Weekend

Puppy and Arya spent the weekend alone, here in the office.  They should be glad, for while they are doing their wonderful work of trying to push their way through the soil toward sunlight, we were moving.

Well...my stuff was moving...I was enjoying some beach time with my wonderful sister-in-law and my awesome brother.  It was soooo relaxing.  Unfortunately I had to come back early to help with the move. 

If nothing comes out of this but the determination that never again shall we move without professional packers and movers, that's enough.

But at least Puppy escaped the madness that is moving.  All she has to do is transform from a pit to a tree, right?  No pressure here, but I'm watching several times a day for any signs of growth.

Puppy 1 has already given up.  Now it's up to Puppy II and Arya, the first of her name.  There will be jubilation when they make their presence known.

Random Penguin

While we eagerly await for Puppy and her sister Arya to make their appearance above ground, I just

want to share with you the following news story:

Random House and Penguin Publishing have merged.  They are calling the company Penguin Random.  Really, it should have been Random Penguin.  We should start a petition...because that's how everything is done these days right?  An internet petition?  Cast your vote for Penguin Random or Random Penguin in the comments.  And really...there's only one right answer.  Hint: I've already given it to you.

Seriously...think about it.  Do you want a Penguin Random?  What does that even mean?  But a Random Penguin?  You walk into Starbucks for your decaf extra foam double shot latte and BAM, Random Penguin!  The Barrista brings your penguin to you with a jaunty little Starbucks scarf around its neck!

You're the fifth in line for tickets for the guy doing Rich Little impersonations at the Harris Park Pavilion, and when you step to the counter--BAM--it's your lucky day.  Number five wins a Penguin in the unadvertised, unannounced Penguin giveaway!  Who needs to go to the show, 'cause now you have A PENGUIN!!!!!