Six weeks old? The time has FLOWN by!!
The camera is giving me fits again (guess that will go on the wish list for Christmas) which is a shame as they are wicked cute. This morning they "helped" me take the garbage out, and I do wish there's been an extra set of hands with a video camera. Imagine four puppies racing me down a 400' driveway while I drag two 80-gallon cans. The garbage cans make quite a racket and have big wheels, which is exactly what Kay Laurence says they need exposure to. (Kay has a reputation as the person on puppy learning, and is a wonderful seminarian.)
The puppies wove in and out of my legs, got in front of the moving cans, and generally made total pills of themselves then entire way to the gate - excellent reactions! Then I pulled out the BIG can we keep by the gate, a 120-gallon container that gets emptied by the collection service. I made as much noise as possible (not difficult to do, these are hard plastic jobbers), banging lids, lifting and dumping and dropping and tossing. The puppies looked at me like I was a rock star... oooooh, how cool! Do it again! Then I opened the gate, scooted out, and left the puppies behind while I positioned huge container at the property line. Cries of protest followed me - for the big container or me, I could not say.
I scooted back in the gate and locked it, picked up the recycling bins, loudly dropped one in each garbage can, and started back up the driveway. The 80-gallon cans, now considerably lighter, banged merrily along the gravel, making a terrible racket. The puppies were everywhere in the way, so I found a clear path and started jogging, hoping to stay in front of them. The cans were making a horrific noise at this point, bouncing madly along the gravel, the recycling bins clanging inside them. The puppies then raced me, trying to keep up, eyes bright and faces gleeful at this game. Interestingly, the biggest puppy was the fastest, the smallest was the slowest. Clearly, all the racket was a non-issue for them.
Later this morning they get their longest car-ride yet: to the vet's office for their first vaccinations. I hope they think that is fun, too!
Wednesday 21 April 2010
Friday 16 April 2010
Volcanoes
The recent volcanic eruption in Iceland got me thinking about a book I recently finished: Krakatoa. A fascinating trip through history and geology (as most of his books are), making many a road trip quite pleasurable.
Actually, I've enjoyed everything I've by Simon Winchester that I've read, though there are a few I haven't devoured yet. Guess I better hit the library...
Actually, I've enjoyed everything I've by Simon Winchester that I've read, though there are a few I haven't devoured yet. Guess I better hit the library...
Wednesday 14 April 2010
Friends, Family, and Freedom
There's an old saying: never discuss religion or politics. This advice is routinely given to children, but sometimes forgotten by adults.
I have an uncle, my favorite uncle in fact, who's politics I agree with about 50%. This uncle, a former judge and big-shot in his religious organization of choice, is a card-carrying member of the John Birch Society. (Yes Virginia, there really is a JBS.) Then there's my mother; in 1972 she campaigned door-to-door for George McGovern (sometimes taking me and my sister with her). I learned a lot about commitment and activism that summer. But I agree with my mother only about 50% of the time.
My uncle and my mother are able to sit at a table and share a meal and love each other and have mutual respect - and keep politics off the menu. Religion (broadly speaking), is fair game as a topic, however. But not politics.
My in-laws are Roman Catholic, very Catholic. I am... not. My husband was an altar boy. He went to just about the most Catholic university in the country - twice. With my in-laws, we don't discuss religion, ever. Politics, broadly speaking, is a hot topic (it is California, after all).
Think you know what political party I belong to? Ten will get me $20, you're wrong.
It's a choice, getting along or not. To respect ourselves, each other, and the First Amendment, or not. Sadly, most of the time, the loudest people seem to be choosing not. We can't hear each other over the shouting, the raised angry voices screaming We're right and they're wrong and there is no middle ground. How on earth could healthy or constructive dialogue ever take place with that vitriol in the air?
I think the truth is: we all just need to STFU. By which I mean, we all need to stop becoming hysterical when somebody says something with which we don't agree. On the big issues - especially on the biggest issues, the third rail stuff - nobody is changing anybody else's mind. And hasn't in a very very long time, and any semblance of movement toward agreement is closer to impossible than difficult.
My uncle, who's smart and thoughtful and considerate and sometimes infuriatingly articulate, once told me (as we prepared Christmas dinner together, sharing a kitchen full of knives and boiling pots and glassware) that abortion is like slavery: the issue is that divisive. I didn't agree with him, at the time, but have come around to the opinion that he's probably right. Nobody is changing anybody's mind about anything, and sometimes it does look like a Civil War on the front lines of the issue.
As for me, I'm a big fan of Milton Friedman. A brilliant thinker and writer, proponent of personal freedoms and free markets. And responsibility in both. His death was a terrible loss for the world.
So think, believe, say what you want. I will, too. And I'll defend to the end your right to think, believe, and say what you want, even if I don't agree with you. And I expect you to do the same for me.
Because that's what freedom really means, and that's what friends (and family) do.
Even when there are certain things we don't talk about.
I have an uncle, my favorite uncle in fact, who's politics I agree with about 50%. This uncle, a former judge and big-shot in his religious organization of choice, is a card-carrying member of the John Birch Society. (Yes Virginia, there really is a JBS.) Then there's my mother; in 1972 she campaigned door-to-door for George McGovern (sometimes taking me and my sister with her). I learned a lot about commitment and activism that summer. But I agree with my mother only about 50% of the time.
My uncle and my mother are able to sit at a table and share a meal and love each other and have mutual respect - and keep politics off the menu. Religion (broadly speaking), is fair game as a topic, however. But not politics.
My in-laws are Roman Catholic, very Catholic. I am... not. My husband was an altar boy. He went to just about the most Catholic university in the country - twice. With my in-laws, we don't discuss religion, ever. Politics, broadly speaking, is a hot topic (it is California, after all).
Think you know what political party I belong to? Ten will get me $20, you're wrong.
It's a choice, getting along or not. To respect ourselves, each other, and the First Amendment, or not. Sadly, most of the time, the loudest people seem to be choosing not. We can't hear each other over the shouting, the raised angry voices screaming We're right and they're wrong and there is no middle ground. How on earth could healthy or constructive dialogue ever take place with that vitriol in the air?
I think the truth is: we all just need to STFU. By which I mean, we all need to stop becoming hysterical when somebody says something with which we don't agree. On the big issues - especially on the biggest issues, the third rail stuff - nobody is changing anybody else's mind. And hasn't in a very very long time, and any semblance of movement toward agreement is closer to impossible than difficult.
My uncle, who's smart and thoughtful and considerate and sometimes infuriatingly articulate, once told me (as we prepared Christmas dinner together, sharing a kitchen full of knives and boiling pots and glassware) that abortion is like slavery: the issue is that divisive. I didn't agree with him, at the time, but have come around to the opinion that he's probably right. Nobody is changing anybody's mind about anything, and sometimes it does look like a Civil War on the front lines of the issue.
As for me, I'm a big fan of Milton Friedman. A brilliant thinker and writer, proponent of personal freedoms and free markets. And responsibility in both. His death was a terrible loss for the world.
So think, believe, say what you want. I will, too. And I'll defend to the end your right to think, believe, and say what you want, even if I don't agree with you. And I expect you to do the same for me.
Because that's what freedom really means, and that's what friends (and family) do.
Even when there are certain things we don't talk about.
Sunday 11 April 2010
Heroines
I have been inspired, twice, this week. That could be a record.
First, by a peer and friend that is offering an opportunity to someone that most people would go to great lengths to avoid.
Second, by a former student who, through hard work and tremendous generosity, has grown in ways she can't yet appreciate.
Three cheers to both.
I doubt it's coincidence that both of these have a little something to do with dogs. The universe is talking - and I am all ears.
First, by a peer and friend that is offering an opportunity to someone that most people would go to great lengths to avoid.
Second, by a former student who, through hard work and tremendous generosity, has grown in ways she can't yet appreciate.
Three cheers to both.
I doubt it's coincidence that both of these have a little something to do with dogs. The universe is talking - and I am all ears.
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