Good Dog Bad Dog

I think I got this thing in the second grade which would be, urgh, early seventies. It was part of a whole desk set. There was a stapler. A letter opener. A blotter. A noteholder. You had to buy it all separately and I wanted the complete set for the important work I did at my desk when I was seven.

My income was pretty tiny at the time so I only got this, the stapler and the noteholder. The other items are long gone but I still use this thing to hold my paperclips and safety pins.

I have way too many projects going right now and it looks like I’m not going to finish any of them.

One of the projects is working on revisions to a story and I had two productive days but now I’m all gummed up in the same part that been giving me fits since the first draft. I think I have it under control but I’m not going to finish today which is a bummer because I have some momentum and probably won’t have time again until next weekend.

Other projects I’m not finishing include updates to my bio page and the photo letter I’m doing for my Aunties in Germany.

Meanwhile, I thought I’d take advantage of the break between storms and got my butt out into the yard. I took care of a bunch of stuff that I neglected to do in the fall. I cleaned up dahlia stalks and raked junk and hopefully discouraged tons of weeds. I don’t think it’s possible to discourage weeds. I think attacking them now just kills the weak ones and makes more room for the vicious ones to come in later.

I also pruned the roses.

When the people moved in next door they asked about the roses between the houses. I said that the roses went with their house (they’re renters) but that I’d been taking care of them. They said they didn’t mind taking care of them but I guess there was a misunderstanding because no one watered, clipped or paid attention to the roses ever again.

I decided to prune them and I was deep into it when this loud bark-howling cuts loose behind me. I jumped out of my skin and turned around and there’s a huge black dog trotting over from the hedge between our houses. I have adult onset fear of dogs but I held it together and scolded him for startling me. He turned out to be a big friendly labrador-hound something who cowered behind me when his master came out to drag him back to his own yard.

It took about 45 minutes for my heartrate to return to normal.

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1 Response to Good Dog Bad Dog

  1. Lorelei says:

    At least you were holding a weapon! If it had been mean, I mean.

    I wish I had saved things from when I was 7.

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