Help from a friend

The cat is realllllly long today

The cat is extra long today, as is the day extra hot.

Today was one of closing chapters and opening doors. This morning we made a final trip to my grandparents' house thirty minutes from here, a day before the house sale is closed. My grandparents passed away some time ago and the house is not an old one, but looking at it brings to mind many years of love and joy, and for me any permanent good bye is bound to be a somewhat difficult one. I'm sentimental like that.

The afternoon was a mess of responsibilities. We cleaned a lot of the house, I signed Calvin up for swimming, we went to two stores (and were only successful at one), we visited the dentist (Calvin's first time), and we got haircuts (mine is a train wreck). The "opened doors" then must be my learning to live with an embarrassing hair cut, and Calvin learning about the dentist. He did a great job and seems to hold none of my reservations about people messing around inside my mouth.

Tomorrow is the day when I get to admit that I've been doing this for five years and still have no idea what I'm doing or what the plan is. This is, however, the first year that I've come to believe that these are good things. I shouldn't know what I'm doing and there is no plan. Five years, though. That's kind of fun. This is the year that we've decided Calvin will be allowed to get a library card, will start receiving an allowance, and will now have to walk instead of riding in the cart at the store (actually, I realized only a few weeks ago that he's pretty well over the weight limit on those seats, so I guess it's about time).

Boys love cats love sunshine

Two dog night

We are spending the entire weekend reorganizing the house in order to make a more proper "learning office" for Calvin (we want him to be able to reach his crayons and markers without leaving them accessible to the pets, which can be more disastrous than it sounds). The dogs are desperately trying to ignore the chaos all around them. I'd say it's working.

Moose

This is our Moose. As an eight pound dachshund he weighs about 1/100th of the animal that most normal human beings are referring to when they use his name. He turned ten years old on my birthday this year and he's blind. Not "blind as a bat" blind, since bats can actually see, albeit poorly, but more like "blind as Helen Keller" blind. He has not always been blind but lost his sight rather suddenly last August due to bad genetics, and it has fallen to us to make his life as manageable as possible, mainly by keeping things in their place. This is a daily battle with a busy child in the house, but I think Moose has gotten used to the fact that the play room, at least, is never the same place, morning, noon, or night. Although he'd have an easier time of it if he was more than an inch or two of the ground—as it is he trips over the slightest things, including a flat piece of the favored, and often in use, train track—I think he's used to it by now. The rest of the house we try to keep to a relatively unaltered map, including the front step and garden. One thing we can't help, though, is weather.

Who put that snowbank in my way?