dog daze of winter

Here we are. Hibernating again.

I hear the wind whipping furiously around the house. The snow blows sideways, and I can't tell if it is falling from the sky or whipped up from the ground.  


All I know is that I am thankful for a warm home.

And that this season will someday end.

they call it the snowpocalypse

We are knee deep in snow and on day two of hibernation around here.

Because of the subzero temps, I set up a cozy spot in the garage for my exclusively outdoor dogs. But when Bo started shivering, and I have never seen him shiver, I relented and brought the boys inside. Just don't tell the landlord.

I tell ya, these dogs are just like children. They play and fight, and if I don't give them something to do, they get themselves into trouble.

They follow me everywhere. If I have to go to the bathroom, I have an audience.

When they finally lay down for a nap, I take the opportunity to snooze as well.

They each got a bath and then ran around the house like naked toddlers.

Bo refuses to share his toys, and Spur is enamored with his reflection.

It feels like I haven't seen Kb in awhile. He has had to pick up extra shifts and has not been home since the blizzard started. The dogs are at least good company.

Tomorrow is up in the air or under a pile of snow. I'm not sure yet.

turkeys and kitties

The first snow storm of the year has come. For once, Kb was thankful that he works second shift. He had plenty of time to shovel the driveway. I, being a lovely wife, cooked up a pot of hot soup and imagined him coming inside from shoveling, grateful to sit at the table and enjoy what I'd prepared. It's straight out of a Campbell's commercial, people.

Only it's not. The soup wasn't quite ready, and he did not take time for lunch, anyways. Oh well. I enjoyed it, and it will make a good lunch tomorrow. This was my first attempt at chicken dumpling soup, and I used part of this recipe and this recipe.  I love that this soup has corn in it. Corn makes almost anything better. Instead of chicken, I used leftover turkey, and I left out the celery and onion (ew).  

While a bowl of soup is one way to warm up, when I was young, I once resorted to a different method. It was the first big snow of 1995ish. I didn't have many friends so I hauled my sled and my calico kitten to the small hill out in the pasture. My kitty and I went up and down the hill a few times, and I started to realize that something was wrong. Kitty was not moving much. I thought she was too cold so I built her a snow igloo. That did not appear to help, and I started to get worried. I ran inside the house with kitty. No cats were ever allowed in the house, but my parents were not home, and this was certainly an emergency. I knew that kitty needed to warm up so, naturally, I wrapped kitty in a dish towel, put her on a cookie sheet, and into the oven she went. Yes, the oven. Now, I thought this through. I did not make the oven too hot and I kept the oven door open a little so I could peak in and see kitty.

Interestingly, I don't remember much after that. But I know that kitty survived her first winter.

Today's lesson:
Make soup.
Don't put kittens in the oven.
Unless it's an emergency.


(No kitties were harmed in the making of this post. Turkeys on the other hand... ) 

sunday rest

Don't forget to slow down and take a break.

These warm October days are treasures. I just want to soak them up and sit in them forever. But the chilly mornings and evenings are a reminder that winter is coming. I'm thankful that we get to ease into it this year.

Spur and I went hiking today. There's no denying that beagle blood runs through his veins. He had his nose to the ground the whole time. We'll also blame his beagle blood for pulling my flowers out of their pots and eating my pumpkins, while we're at it. We stood on our tip toes, but the prettiest trees were just out of reach across the bog.

We'll hit the trails again tomorrow, here this time. I'm even feeling ambitious enough to bring Bo along. Thanks to Christopher Columbus, I get the day off. Unfortunately, much of the day will be spent researching marketing strategies and (hopefully) making progress on a paper. I'm thoroughly enjoying grad school, but marketing?  Yuck.

Speaking of school, I was able to remain unaffected by the Government shutdown until late last week. The census website is down so I could not research or cite demographic data. I wonder if my professor will accept the Government shutdown as an excuse. Politics are hard. I don't want to talk about it.

It's a good thing God is still here and still working.

I can see it in the trees.

In case you're worried about the church

We are in transition around here. Summer is sadly fading, and fall semester will begin next week. Kb's employment was in limbo there for a little while, but last week, he started working a social work type job with adolescent boys. Clearly, we are not dreaming of tropical vacations and shiny cars. It's meaningful work, though, right?

His new job is also second shift. So the boys and I have ample bonding time. Kb and I, on the other hand, will need to boost our communication and find creative ways to soak up time together.

I am thankful that Kb and I can still go to church together. This morning, while sitting in the balcony pew, a fear surfaced within me and was squashed in one fell swoop.

It's something that I do not think about much, but now and then, I'll hear a news story or see a headline and get a nervous streak.

It seems as though Christianity is becoming increasingly unpopular. I don't get into all of the political banter, but casual observation proves that governments are assuming more and more control.

I fear that one day Christianity will be eradicated and the Church will be abolished.

How this coincides with the Lord returning is thankfully beyond my scope; however, as that time nears, I expect that I will not be popular or comfortable. I expect that I will suffer.

While that may be true, I need not fear that the Church will cease to exist.

And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.   Matthew 16:18 

Red letters? Yep, that is Jesus talking. And this Church, this community that gathers all over the world, is His. And no overpowering government, no charismatic individual, and no force of Satan will overcome it. 

Cheap Thrills

We're living thrifty these days. Every extra penny is being swallowed up by the black hole known as Sallie Mae. The entertainment column receives little, if any, attention on the budget spreadsheet.

Even the dogs are feeling the pinch. They don't get fancy chew toys or stuffed animals with squeakers. They don't seem to mind though. Spur loves his sticks, especially the ones that are twice his size.

And Bo? Bo is enthralled with what ever animal happens to be inhabiting the trees.

Unfortunately, Bo felt the need to let us know about every move that a particular squirrel made last night. Bo barks quite loudly, and when Bo barks, Spur thinks there's a reason to bark as well. Needless to say, Kb and I did not get much sleep. Not to worry, Bo, Kb, and Kb's .22 took care of that little problem this afternoon. Cheers to a better night's sleep and squirrel meat!

Just kidding, I have no intention of cooking the squirrel. Although...that would help with the grocery budget...


Last week, we got our taxes done at one of those big chain tax places. Never doing that again. First of all, I had some sticker shock. I wrongly assumed that a big chain would automatically be affordable. Silly me. But also, the lady who was entering our tax forms continually insisted that we should not pay off so much debt in one year, and she repeatedly informed us that it is to our advantage to pay off our student loans over time.

Now I could have used this as an opportunity to share about how the debtor is slave to the lender and we want to be able to give more and use our money to glorify God. But I didn't. Instead, I stared at my shoes, allowing the lady's criticism of our sacrifices to sink right in and make me feel stupid.

I understand that not everyone agrees with our perspective on money and debt. This was just the first time that someone was so vocal about it.

When I hopped in my car to leave the tax place, I tuned the radio to the Dave Ramsey show. I needed a little salve for my wounds and some encouragement to press on.

And press on, we do.  We have date night with a nice dinner at Applebee's (with a gift card). Then, we get ice cream at Culver's (with a coupon). We take a walk and simply enjoy each other's company.

And it really doesn't feel like a sacrifice.



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Snowed In

Remember when I was so excited to have conquered February?

Well, by the looks of it, it may as well still be February.

The snow fell all night. Early this morning, I tried to get out of the driveway. I really did. I shoveled and shoveled, and my car almost made it to the road while Spur cheered me on, but it was all for not. Those tires just spun. Blue Betty just didn't have it in her.

So I retreated and assumed my position on the couch.

I had some fun with the dogs, too. They played like crazy. Bo loves the snow. Spur isn't so sure about the snow yet, but he is so cute bounding through the drifts. Although, he's not so cute when he grabs the glove out of my pocket and runs around with it in his mouth. Rascal.

Inside the house, I'm still gunning for sunny skies and green grass. I'm talking sweet to spring, trying to coax her over to this neck of the woods. It's real nice here; we've got pastels, banners, and flowers!

My force-grown indoor tulips have been a success!  I've dubbed them test tube tulips because I keep watch over the vases like a science experiment. About six weeks ago, I set the bulbs on a bed of pebbles. I kept them in our unheated upstairs for the first couple of weeks to give the bulbs a jump start.

First, the roots popped out of the bulbs and buried deep into the pebbles. Then, the stems began shooting up. Finally, the flowers bloomed! This is a super easy and fun way to get a taste of spring, even when the ground is covered in snow.

Diggin Up Bones

These mutts are so fun. And they drive me crazy.

In all of his ten and a half years, Bo never cared for bones. He would chew up and destroy most everything else, but rawhide would go untouched.

Currently, Spur gets tied up during the day so I've been giving him a bone now and then to occupy himself.  Then, when we're home and he gets to run loose, he takes his half-chewed bones and puts them in Bo's face. All of a sudden, Bo has become a huge fan of bones. Or rather, he's become a fan of taking the bones away from Spur. And hiding them. Underneath a pile of dirt.

Bo has never been a digger. Nonetheless, his debut has been pretty impressive.

It took me a few days too many to realize what was going on. Now there are holes all around the yard.  Please don't tell the landlord.

Clearly, Spur is undeterred. But it appears as though Bo is at least remorseful. Or maybe he's just sad that I took away the bones.

I'm certain this is only the beginning of their antics.

Spur

So, we got a dog and named him Spur. Blame it on my mom; she found him in the classifieds.

"8 month old, male blue heeler, neutered, free to good home."

We weren't exactly planning on getting a new dog on the coldest day in January, but I'd been keeping my eyes open for one. Bo is getting older, and I wanted our new dog to be able to learn a thing or two from him.

I almost turned back when I heard his beagle-like bark coming from the back of the house. But I couldn't just leave him there; he was cute and cuddly.

Kb says he is my Valentine's Day present.

Here begins another adventure!

Ode to Bo

Today, Bo and I hit the trails in honor of the sweatshirt weather. You have to get out of the house when it's this warm in January, and Bo is always up for an adventure.

Have I mentioned that I love my dog? Well, I do.

A little over ten years ago, I remember traveling in the truck with my dad to a farmhouse in Goshen. We were there to look at their Siberian Husky/German Shepherd puppies. Now really, that never works. You can never just look at puppies. Sure enough, we picked one out, brought him home, and dubbed him Bo. He was to be my dog, and he was to reside in the garage. 

Looking back, I'm surprised my parents consented to my desire for a dog so easily. They have certainly regretted that decision many times since. Bo was awfully naughty. His "puppy stage" lasted about seven years. He quickly became house-trained but decided that he preferred to go to the bathroom in the garage for about five years. Anything in the garage that could be chewed up was destroyed, including my dad's ice fishing hut. Now that was a bad day. Bo could only be given hard, rubber toys. All others, including tennis balls and soccer balls, would be quickly destroyed and eaten.

Bless my parents for taking care of him while I was at college.

In addition, Bo loved to run away, and he was incredibly disobedient. Well, let me clarify; he was disobedient outside of the show ring. For four or five years, I competed with Bo in obedience, agility,  and other disciplines. He did amazingly well. It took A LOT of time and energy, but he won most shows. That Bo is smart as a whip. Smart enough to know that when he was loose in the yard, there was no reason to listen to anyone. True to his husky roots, he took off whenever given the chance. Until several years ago, when my dad brought home a wireless containment system. That thing literally solved all of our problems with Bo, and our family was significantly more peaceful. I brag on Petsafe so much, I ought to be receiving royalties.

At times, it may seem like a curse, but one of the best things about Bo is his energy. The dog never gets tired! He is the best running, hiking, and biking companion. One hot July day, we ran 12 miles. That's the farthest that I have ever run, but he could've gone further! Later that day, we had an agility competition, and he still had an abundance of energy. During the cold winter, I didn't run with Bo so I decided to teach him to jump rope with me to burn off some of his energy. He loved to jump rope, and it became a hit at trick competitions. 

Last year, Bo turned ten. It snuck up on me. He definitely did not act his age. But over the last year, he has noticeably grayed and while he still has a lot of energy, he can't quite rack up the miles like he used to. Regardless of his age, this dog is chock full of infectious joy. There is nothing like coming home from work to this guy. He gets so darn excited, and I can't help but smile.

Did I mentioned that I love my dog?

Darling Darlington

So every Christmas a warehouse in Fort Wayne is transformed. It's once vacant space is filled with all sorts of goodies, from kid's toys to crafts, books to wrapping paper. You never know what special goodies await you at the warehouse-turned-Christmas-store called Darlington.

Oh, and the best part? Everything in the store is $1.59. Yep, that's 159 pennies.

Turn in the drive and you are greeted by police officer parking attendants. Enter the single door and you must clothe yourself with an extra measure of patience. Push your cart down the crowded aisles, and steer clear of the old ladies grabbing this or that. Visions of black Friday gone bad enter your mind.

But then.

you see it.

The cutest $1.59 goodies you ever did see.

And you realize what every child in the world needs for Christmas.

And you rifle through the boxes, creating quite a scene. 

And then, you realize that you must also get some for yourself. 

The nice worker notices your frenzy and pulls out a new box from the back.

And you go crazy. 

Because oh em gee, they are too darn cute.

When you get home, you barter with your mom to get your favorites.

 

 But deep down, you regret that you did not nab every last one of them.  

Critters

 We have a healthy assortment of critters around these parts. Two are domesticated, most are the wild sort, and a few wild ones have shown up dead in the yard. Spring must have really sprung at our house because we saw a baby deer, baby birds, and now we've seen a couple of babies that we are not so excited about, baby groundhogs. Since I was young, I remember my dad shooting groundhogs in the field to the east of our home. He told me that groundhogs were bad because they dig holes in the ground and cows step in the holes and break their legs. So from little on, groundhogs were bad.

We first discovered the baby groundhogs on Sunday. They kept trying to run from the barn to the other side of the road. Bo saw them and ran out to his invisible boundary line, barking ferociously. At that, the groundhogs would turn around and barrel back to the barn. This happened over and over again. It was kind of entertaining.

See the little guy on the road? He was so close to successfully making it to the other side! If he only knew that Bo dare not take one more step or he'd be turning his own self around, tail tucked, running for the house.

Further inspection yielded this bigger guy.
 

I have yet to explore the barn, but I got real brave and peeked inside. This guy must've been keeping watch. Last one, I promise; four groundhog pics in a row is quite enough.

When Kb got home and was available for moral support, I mustered my courage and got close enough to that hole to throw a couple of sticks of gum inside. Somebody told me that groundhogs can't digest gum so it kills them. I guess we'll see. I need to come up with a trick for the opossums. They lurk around outside the barn in the mornings, and they are just darn ugly.

In other critter related news, to my excitement, we got a hand-me-down bird feeder this week.

Two days ago, it was full of bird seed. I promise. The birds must think that they deserve a line item in our budget.

Um no. I enjoy watching the birds, and we even strategically placed the feeder so that I can see it from "my spot" in the living room. But we may have to rethink this whole bird feeding idea.

My mom's quick response: "Somebirdy's hungry!"

Easy Like Saturday Morning

It's been awhile since I've had a Saturday morning free of activities and planned events. Sure, this afternoon there's a wedding and this evening there's a horse show to prepare for, but this morning, I'm free.

I woke up to a country breeze flowing through the windows. I love how it makes the house smell fresh and alive. I went outside to soak in it and to try to sneak a peak at the nest that's tucked in the monstrous bush outside the living room window. I've been watching the momma bird come, usually with some unidentifiable object in her beak, and go from the nest for weeks. But this morning, when I got out the ladder and positioned it in front of the bush, I knew the momma was watching because I started to hear an incessant squawking from the tree behind me. I retreated, scurrying down the ladder. Earlier this week, I was nearly the victim of a dive bombing momma bird while visiting a friend in Fort Wayne. It was not going to happen again!

Momma birds 2, Curious observer 0

So I settled for the window view. And momma bird came to mock me.

I have graciously conceded, and I've nestled into the couch where I may very well spend the rest of my easy Saturday morning, accompanied by some Cheerios and a few episodes of Scandal, my recent guilty pleasure. Clearly, there's not enough drama in my real life, and I need to supplement it with ostentatious tv shows and territorial birds.

Precious Fawn

Kb called me on my way home from work and warned me to drive carefully, especially when I hit our dirt road.

Earlier on his way home from work, he saw a doe with her little fawn right beside our dirt road. He stopped, but the doe took off, leaving the fawn in the ditch.

When I got home, I had to check it out (against Kb's wishes). I would've missed him if it hadn't been for his extra large ears.

He's so tiny! I'm not sure how old he is, but his legs are still wobbly.

I notified my dad, hunter extraordinaire. He reassured me that the mama knows where the little guy is at. I hope he's right.

Chaos

Right now, the house is a mess. Seriously. Don't come over.  Kb brought boxes home from his parent's house. Lots and lots of boxes. And I hear there's still more. It's a bit trying for me, all this clutter. It's in boxes and strewn about the floor in rather unorganized piles. In addition, a musky scent that lingers in the air has accompanied the boxes. I'm feeling claustrophobic. Pretty sure the walls are closing in.

This is a temporary state. (This mantra has served as a coping mechanism...as I sit perched on the couch, gnawing on my nails.)  At the end of the month, we'll contribute our stash to the family garage sale. I've never been a part of a garage sale, but I like to get rid of things and we need money so it ought to be a win-win. But first, I've got to get through this stage. I've got to watch as Kb filters through box after box after box and creates a big mess.

Meanwhile, stuff covers the living room floor and has spilled into the office.

And the grass is tall. Our mower broke; the thing just wouldn't start.  My dad is working on it, and I've heard it's an easy fix so we'll get the mower back soon. In the meantime, the yard is turning into a hay field.

 All this disarray makes my skin crawl. Even worse, I have the day off of work, and I can do nothing about the chaos.

In an attempt to ward off the hives, I set out to trim bushes. I detest the monstrous bushes that overtake the front of our house. These bushes are taller than I am and just as unruly. My preference would be to pull them out, but that would require heavy machinery. So I have settled for trimming them.  After an hour or so, I called it quits. I think I need a chain saw.

I did find these little gems while I was standing on the top rung of the ladder.

Perhaps I could warm up to the monster bushes if they contain precious sights such as this. Perhaps.