dogs v kids

I spent today taking care of my godson, Nicholas, who is just a day or two past the 15-month mark. He is an expert at sweetness, and has just learned to say "hi," and "uh-oh," two very useful phrases in the life of a toddler. He can say a great deal more using baby sign language. His favorite things to ask for are music and books...when overwhelmed by his need for either one, he will frantically sign, "more!" It's sometimes hard to tell what he wants more of, but, all in all the sign language is very helpful and makes caring for a preverbal kiddio much more pleasant than it might otherwise be. And really, how much can you complain about a kid who costantly wants more music and books? And dancing...let's not forget about dancing.

So, inevitably, his mom or someone else will always ask whether caring for him makes me want to have a kid of my own.

And the answer is no. Nope. Nuh-uh. No.

I like my children permanently preverbal...perpetually on all fours, never bipedal...I like them to be mainly interested in chewing on things...and, most importantly, I want them to be furry. If they're not furry, I like any and all children with whom I am associated to have mothers that I can give them back to.

I'm stickin' with my dogs, folks. No amount of Tinky-Winky-esque "Uh-oh"ing is going to change my mind on this one.

Although, I have to admit, it is seriously cute.

heat

Grumbled and rolled over at about 5:45 this morning when the hubster left, as usual...woke up about two and a half hours later, ready to luxuriate in my February-vacation-sleep, but the pups had other plans. So, I got up to let Puck out, and it was COLD. Very cold. Chilly, chilly, cold...so, I went to adjust the thermostat, and it was telling me that it wanted to make it a very nice temperature, but that it just couldn't right now. It was set for about 65...nice and toasty...but the temperature in the house was about 58...not nice. Not toasty.

I went downstairs, and bravely checked to see if I could tell whether the pilot light for the furnace was out. I think I may have been paranoid, but it did smell a litte bit of propane down in the furnace room...the safety label says to call the fire department or the gas service number if that happens :) Before I did that, I decided to check the level on the propane tank...and, boy howdy, it was just about totally empty. Grrrr...brrrrr!

So, I called the propane delivery people and asked them to come fill it up. While they are here, I do believe I will ask the nice professional gas person to check the pilot light on the furnace. I called my connection at the FD, and he says he doesn't know how to turn them back on...so much for that plan...As long as the house doesn't blow up, I'm happy. And as long as the dogs don't eat the propane delivery person, everything should be fine.

It is very cold outside. It was even colder last night. The dogs are my friends. They are warm and furry.

updating for seester

I feel I must say more...not about Merlin, per se, but just in general...about, y'know, stuff.

My seester, my seester, my seester and I...

I'm often surprised by what I read on my seester's blog. I have no idea how to insert a link to her blog here, but, well, she's the only one who reads this, so, I don't feel so bad.

It's strange to read what she posts because it allows me to see a side of her that is different from the seester I grew up with (er, with whom I grew up). It's odd to encounter her as a person, rather than a seester.

I'm sure I provide much less interesting reading material, updating at two-month intervals as I do...

Still teaching, still frustrated by "No Child Left Behind," standardized tests, scripted lessons, etc. Feeling the sting of condescension from the administration recently. Nothing stings more than being taken down by one's own personal method of putting other people down.

Gaining on the laundry, though. Oh frabjous day.

'at'll do, dog

the great merlini, senior dog to the clan, has gone on to the great sofa in the sky, where, perhaps, he can run, with his nose in the snow, through fields of amazing smells, fed cheeseburgers by ardoring angels, while his littermates frolick at his side...with coop and tilly, ebony and rosie...and granddaddy dick...maybe even ginger, legendary ginger.

my ideas about animals in the afterlife are very egyptian. it started with dinidan, who was burried with spinach noodles, because he loved them...

and if merlin were an ancient, chinese emperor, we would bury him with terra cota statues of cats, life-sized bronze bags of purina dog-chow, sealed jars of peanutbutter dog buscuits, and a great variety of jade bones to gnaw on. the story of his triumphant victory over doggie james would become legend, and be told to small dogs the world over.

what do doggies, wise and wonderful, know of death? what did merlin think, when mom told him that when he opened his eyes he would see, "tilly and mr. dick"?

i hope she was right.
i believe that she was.