Jack’s Walk

Who could say no to that face? ©voyager, all rights reserved

I awoke to the sound of ice pellets hitting my window this morning, telling me at once that it was colder than yesterday and still raining. I could feel the dampness in the house as I creaked and groaned my way out of bed and went to start the coffee, so next, I turned on the gas fireplace, hoping to dry the air out a bit and add a touch of cheer to the dull and dreary day. I opened the front door to bring in the newspaper and was met with a cold wind blowing freezing drizzle in my face. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be sticking to things or turning to ice on the ground, and a quick check-in with the weather channel told me it was above zero, by 1°c.  Hey, I thought they said yesterday that it was going to get warmer over the next few days. 1°c is not warmer, and freezing drizzle, even if it doesn’t stick, is not better than rain. Just then, Jack crawled out of bed and came to ask for his breakfast. As I was getting it ready for him, I casually said that if he didn’t want to go for a walk today, that would be alright. Jack said he’d think about it and he did until 10:30 when he decided he wanted to go out. He could see his gaggle of teenagers up at the corner talking, and he was eager to go say hi. I wasn’t quite as eager to go out, but Jack gave me the face, and I knew he meant business,  so I layered up and out we went into the nasty, wet day. I don’t think Jack even noticed the weather, he was so anxious to go see his kids. About half-way up the block, he got his reward, when one of his favourite young women called out his name and started walking toward him. Jack wiggled and wagged his way up to her and they greeted each other like long-lost friends. Soon, Jack was surrounded by a half-dozen more young people, all saying his name and stroking him. Jack handed out kisses like they were Hallowe’en candy, and by the time we said goodbye to continue on our way, Jack was positively glowing with happiness, and the day didn’t seem nearly so nasty or dreary to me. Thanks, Bubba. I love the way you live in the moment.

Jack’s Walk

There’s still a bit of colour…if you look down. ©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s been raining here most of the day, and the landscape has gone back to looking like bleak autumn instead of the deep of winter.  There isn’t a speck of snow or ice left, and I’m grateful for that. It sure makes walking Jack less fraught with danger and not nearly so physically demanding. Jack has mixed feelings about the weather. Today, for the very first time, Jack didn’t want to go for a walk. We stepped out on the porch, Jack raised his head and looked slowly to the right, then to the left, and then he turned around and asked to go back into the house. Sheesh! 2 days ago he was swimming in the frigid water of the river, and today he lets a little rain put him off. He’s a water dog for Pete’s sake.  It’s even in his name. Officially, Jack is Wasserhund’s King Jackson Brown, and Wassserhund means ‘water dog’ in German. So my water dog didn’t want to go out in the rain.

I fixed that, though. I put Jack in the house and set out across the street to check the mailbox. I could see him watching me through the window as I made my way down our sidewalk, and then he started to howl, a loud, pitiful howl like the coyotes that we hear down east. I had no idea that he could even do that! I think he thought I was going on our walk without him. By the time I got back a minute or two later, Jack was eager to go out despite the rain, so we stepped out on the porch again, and this time Jack didn’t stop to take measure. He just went down the stairs with his tail wagging: Sehr gut,  meine wasserhund.

Happy Birthday, Caine

Robert, Desert Son OM kindly reminded us that today is Caine’s birthday. I am rubbish at dates, but I always prefer birthdays to death days, as they speak of life and quite often, of happy memories.

How to better celebrate Caine’s birthday than with a bird, so here’s a duck on a sea of gold. Happy Birthday, Caine!

©Giliell, all rights reserved

 

Jack’s Walk

The Imp House? ©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack and I happened upon this assortment of oddities just off the path, down by the river. We found a small hubcap, a bicycle tire and a little house together in a group. The house looks like a birdhouse set upon the ground and not in a tree. Jack tells me it’s a house for Imps and wanted to leave quickly.

“Why so nervous, Jack?” I asked him.

“That’s an Imp house, mommy. We need to get out of here.”

“Why… I’d like to meet an Imp.”

“No, you wouldn’t mommy. The Imps aren’t nice. They like to play tricks. Nasty tricks”

“How do you know these things, Jack.”

” I Pay attention to what goes on. You don’t see or hear much, mommy. I know it’s because you’re only a human, and your senses are dull.”

“My senses are not dull, Jack. I have excellent hearing, and my eyesight is fine with my glasses on.”

“Silly, mommy! You never see the Pixies and fairies or even the elves and the trolls!  Humans scare the little folk, so they stay away from the paths and hide in the forest.”

“Well then, how could I see them if they hide from me?” and then I added, “Silly, Jack!”

“Mommy, let’s get out of here. I’ll tell you about the little folk later. I don’t like the Imps!”

“How do you know about the imps, Jack?”

“Mostly from the Fairies and the Elves, but I met a few Imps last spring. Remember when I got stuck in the mud on the other side of the river?”

“Oh yeah, Jack, I remember. I almost got stuck in the mud myself, trying to get you out. We were both a mess.”

“Well, that was the imps fault. They promised me a cookie if I went to visit their camp. And when the mud got too deep for me to go farther, they sat there watching me…and then you…and laughing. That’s what they do. They sit around all day eating mushrooms and getting silly, and then they play tricks on the other little folk. And the bigger folk when they come by.” Jack was getting visibly antsy, looking over his shoulder and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“How do you know this house belongs to Imps?” I asked, ” Maybe we should look inside to see what’s there.”

“NO, mommy. They’ll poke you in the eye or bite your nose. I can smell the Imps. Please, let’s go.”

“The house is right on the pathway, Jack. ” I thought you said the Little Folk stay away from humans, so why would they live here?” I said, getting down on my knees for a closer inspection.

“Silly, mommy. The Imps aren’t afraid of humans. They’re fast, and they have camouflage, and they like to steal from humans and play tricks on you. That’s why the bicycle tire and hubcap are here. They stole them from people. This house looks like a trap to me, mommy. Please, let’s go.”

“Alright, Jack, let’s go,” I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off of my pants. And so we left the river and made our way home with my curiosity left unsated. Camouflaged Imps? Pixies and Faeries? Elves and trolls??? I know Jack is typically taciturn, but it seems he knows a lot more about the forest than I do. I hope I can convince him to tell me more since it seems my human senses are a bit dull after all.

”

 

 

Making Marmelade

Avalus has been making jams and jellies and he’s sent us some photos from the project.

This late summer I set about using the old orchards and hedges around my home. To make marmelades and gelée, to be exact. Here are some things I found while picking fruit

Tasty blackberries! Oddly enough, in German these are called Brombeeren which translates literally to bromine berrys. But the name does not have anything to do with bromine, it goes back to the old high german word brāmberi which means thorny bush and is the root for the word english bramble.

Brombeeren ©Avalus, all rights reserved

Then there was this beautiful golden beetle, enjoying the sun and an apple at the same time. It did not mind me picking up fallen apples around it.

golden beetle ©Avalus, all rights reserved

golden beetle 2 ©Avalus, all rights reserved

This hedgehog on the other hand did very much mind my company.

Igel ©Avalus, all rights reserved

In the end, I made many glasses of yummi sweet stuff with different flavours. Testers favourites were apple-coffee and apple-meade*, apple-cinnamon was deemed too Christmassy for September. Pestering every one I knew for empty glasses really paid off here as I gave most of these full glasses to friends.

gelly good time ©Avalus, all rights reserved

 

*I made meade two years ago and still have some left. Pretty strong taste and not too sweet, but I drink only very little.

Thanks for sharing, Avalus.

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s been about 4°c all day, and most of the ice has melted from the sidewalks, making it safe for Jack and me to go for walks around the neighbourhood again. This is excellent news, and we will walk around our area tonight, but today, I wanted to give Jack a treat, so I took him to the river. We haven’t been there in a while, and Jack was asking for a bit of adventure. It was a bit muddy in areas, but the path itself was clear and easy to walk. As expected, Jack went into the river. I told him it was cold, but he laughed and dashed in any way. He didn’t stay in long, though, and only went in once. I’m not surprised – Jack still hasn’t grown his undercoat and the only insulation he has is the extra bit of fat he’s carrying. He got a good towelling off when we got back to the car and actually stood still for it today. Usually, he’s all wiggles and wanders, but today he even let me clean his feet without complaint. I think he liked the warmth of the rubbing. He was quiet all the way home, and once we got inside, Jack climbed into his bed and asked for a blanket. He’s been crawling under blankets a lot lately – something that he’d never do when he was young. I think my baby boy is growing older, and it worries me a bit. Maybe, though, he just needs to grow a bit of hair. I like that idea much better.

Jack’s Walk

farewell, fall ©voyager, all rights reserved
We had quite a bit of snow last week, making walking difficult and a bit treacherous. The sidewalks are full of tramped down snow, which in places has turned to sheet ice forcing me to walk/shuffle slowly and carefully. Last year I bought cleats for my boots to make waking on ice safer, but they do not make me safer because you need to high step with each step and then forcefully plant your foot. You need to march in the damned things, and if you don’t pick your foot up high enough, they ‘catch’ and can propel you face down quite suddenly and forcefully. Learning this was an unpleasant experience and caused my worst fall of last year. Besides which, I looked like I was from the Ministry of Silly Walks when I used them, so I don’t use them anymore. Instead, I’ve started walking on the road, which has its own risks, but Jack and I both wear flashing lights so we can be seen. There isn’t much traffic in our neighbourhood, especially at night, so overall I think it’s the safest option. It confuses Jack a bit, though. I’ve always made a big deal about staying away from the road, and Jack won’t step onto the street until I tell him it’s OK, so he’s been staying on the sidewalk, but he continually watches me, wondering where he’s supposed to be and I have to keep telling him to stay where he is. Last night was better. Jack is a thinking dog and he’s figuring it out. We’re supposed to have a bit of a melt over the next few days, and I’m hoping all the snow and ice will vanish. Sometimes a melt can turn snow into ice if it isn’t warm enough or long enough. Today the temp is 3°c, and by Thursday, it’s supposed to climb to 8°c, and if it gets there, we’ll be good to walk on the sidewalk again – at least until the next snowfall or ice storm.

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

Ho – Ho – Hold it! It seems that Christmas is in full gear. My neighbours put these decorations up the day after Halloween, making them the first house on the block to decorate, but now many other homes are all dolled-up, too.  I have to admit that the wreaths and bows and lights are pleasant, especially at night when I’m walking Jack in the dark. I like Christmas decorations. They’re cheerful on a cold, dark winter’s night

I have wonderful memories of Christmases as a child, especially related to decorating. Every year, Dad would put his axe in the car, and we’d drive to a Christmas tree farm where I would get to choose the tree and Dad would chop it down. Then we’d tie it t the top of the car (always a Volkswagon Beetle – because they were German and reliable as hell) and then of coming home and helping my mother to decorate the tree and the house. Mom was a bit of a perfectionist about things, but we would listen to Christmas carols and drink hot chocolate and she would tell me exactly what to put where and how. Some decorations had stories that mom would tell year after year. The Santa on skis that came with my grandparents from Germany. Blown glass birds with feathery tails also from Germany, sent by an Aunt I never met. My favourite was always the colourful embroidered cat that mom was given to commemorate the year I was born. We had a ceramic Christmas tree made by one of Mom’s friends just for her. Mom wanted extra snow on it and Aunt Dorothy made it so. Mostly, mom would take over, leaving me free to sing and play and look through the Sears and Eaton catalogues and refine my wish list.  By the end of the day, the house would be transformed into a magical wonderland. Once the house was all dollied up, then mom would begin the Christmas baking. She made dozens of cookies, many pans of squares, rum balls, cherry tarts, loaves of bread and all sorts of other pretty and delicious treats to give as gifts and share with guests during the holiday season.  My dad was a mason, and we always had a lot of lodge brothers visit over the holiday season.

Now, I feel much differently about Christmas. The over-commercialisation annoys me and the push to spend and overspend on silly gifts. This year the big box stores had all sorts of Christmas paraphernalia in before Halloween, which I found in the way and annoying. I don’t have children, and neither do most of my friends, so a few years ago, I said no to Christmas gifts. All my friends will get a donation to the charity of their choice, and that’s what I get in return. It’s win-win. I avoid the crowded stores and trying to figure out what to get the people on my list, all of whom complain about clutter, and a few charities get a small boost. It’s a great way to make a secular Christmas meaningful. Try to do a bit of decorating, too, though. The dog walkers will thank you.

Jack’s Walk

 

©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack is a very social dog, and he likes to stop and talk to people when we’re out strolling around the neighbourhood. He has his own fan club of high school students who call out his name and run to see him as we advance up the street. It’s the reason we take our neighbourhood walk at 12:30. Jack loves the adoration. After the high school, we usually see Nick out on his porch having a smoke. Then we often meet Leo, who is Jack’s best friend, and his person Kevin.
Today, we met no one. Not a single teenager was standing on the corner, smoking or vaping. Jack didn’t want to go on. He kept dawdling, looking longingly toward the front door of the school Hoping, that someone would come out to say hi. But, no one did. Poor Bubba.
Nick wasn’t out smoking, either. Nor was Leo out in the yard. Bubba dawdled at their houses, too, to no avail.
He was a bit mopey when we got home, so I played a few rounds of Let’s Chase Pig-Pig, which is a ridiculous game that involves a rubber pig that honks like an angry goose. It’s totally silly, and it wasn’t long before Jack was his usual cheerful self. Tomorrow morning I’ll arrange a play date with Leo. And in the afternoon we’ll visit Bambi and Bailey, 2 small white Lhasa apso, miniature poodle crosses who live with one of my friends. Jack needs a social life and I guess it’s down to me to take care of that.

Note to self: Winter fun requires more planning and less serendipity.

 

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

I have something special to share with you regarding Jack. He’s learned a new trick, and you’ll never guess what it is. First, though, let me tell you a story. Jack lived most of his life with an alpha female chocolate lab named Lucy as an older sister. Lucy was 4 when we brought Jack home, and she never got over the shock of it. She didn’t like to share our attention or affection, and if she heard Jack getting some love, she always came and intruded. Over time I learned to be quiet when giving Jack love-me-ups to spare him the indignity of being pushed aside. I did my best to keep things equal, but Lucy always wanted to be best and first. She was a fierce lady lab – 65 pounds of attitude and swagger. Lou had her right knee replaced when she was six and the left one almost exactly a year later, both times without complaint or self-pity. She was angry that we forced inactivity on her. She was ready to run again after a few days post-op and it was a struggle to keep her quiet for 6 weeks. So our Lucy was a lot for Jack to contend with, which brings me back to Jack’s new trick.

Have you made a guess yet? There’s a clue in the story. For most of Jack’s life, I was quiet when giving him affection, but Lucy’s been gone for over 2 years now, and at some point, I started making affectionate noises with him. Silly noises like hum,hum,hum and har-bar-bar with the occasional argle-bargle and hubba-bub bub thrown in for variety. Well, about 6 weeks ago, Jack started making noises back at me, and for all the world, it sounds like he’s purring. His chest vibrates, and he makes these throat noises that flow out of his upside-down open maw (he’s on his back and wiggling when this happens) in waves with the steady rhythm of a cat’s purr. It’s quite remarkable and very endearing, and it seems to be a persistent new behaviour. I think I may know why. I’ve been considering getting a cat. Our last cat died about the same time Lucy did, and I miss having a feline personality around the house. It seems that Jack has been reading my mind and is trying to convince me that “we don’t need a cat, Silly Mommy.” Jack can do anything a cat can do, even purr it seems.

Jack’s Walk

A sky full of snow ©voyager, all rights reserved

Well, winter has landed with a cargo load of wet, heavy snow. We have about 15 cm already, and there’s still lots more to come. The sky is full of oppressive grey snow clouds in all directions, and the forecast says it’s going to persist for a few more days. It’s a constant fine snow that doesn’t look serious at all, but it’s sticky, and it clumps, and it requires shovelling – which Jack and I did this morning, to the consternation of my back and shoulder muscles. Usually, I’m more fit at this time of year, but I did altogether too much sitting over the summer and not enough hiking or gardening. Just a few inactive months and my muscles have atrophied to jello. Well, there’s only one thing to do – suck it up and take the pain of putting them to work again, The snow will force my hand at that. So will towelling off Mr. Wigglebum, which is labour intensive, but amusing. So, bring it on winter. I’ll take the pain. Ha, I’ll be ready for gardening season. I have a good attitude and a cheerful Jackson Brown. That’s enough to get me through the season of gloom.

Note to Self: Use it or lose it is sadly true.

Jack’s Walk

Shovel face ©voyager, all rights reserved

We’ve been having steady fine snow since early this morning and by mid-afternoon, there was about 8 cm of the stuff on the ground. That seems like more than enough to me, but the weather gods are in a giving mood and apparently, it’s going to snow for the rest of the week.  That’s right, 5 days in a row of snow. In November. It isn’t even winter yet, and I’m already fed up with the weather.

Jack’s feelings are quite different, though. Jack doesn’t mind getting cold and he thinks that snow is fun. He begged me to play outside with him all morning, so I finally took him to our little forest where he frolicked off-leash for about an hour. He kept laughing and telling me that his toes were tingling as he hopped off and on the path, leaving big, sloppy paw prints facing in all directions. He used his face like a shovel the whole way round. When I asked him why he did that he told me that snow smells are layered and it’s helpful to know what’s at the bottom.

“Oh,” I said, “but you must inhale snow when you’re sniffing like that.”

He was quiet for a beat or two and finally said” Snorting snow is fun, mommy. You should try it, the smells get smellier. And deeper.”

“Snorting snow, Jack. No thanks, I like my nose to stay warm and dry.”

“You have a bad attitude, mommy. You need to try new things. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t hate winter as much.”

The boy has a point. It’s going to be a long winter and attitude is important. I’ll waste a lot of todays waiting for a warmer tomorrow. Even so, I still don’t think breathing in wet snow will help, Bubba. “How about you do the snorting for both of us.”

“I always do, mommy,” he said bounding off with a laugh. “we’d never know anything if we counted on your pitiful nose for information.”