Grooming

What follows is an email sent this morning from Whitby to his groomer, Denise.  She's also the founder and director of All God's Creatures, an animal rescue sanctuary here in Edgefield County.  Whitby and Belle generally board there when Tal and I have to be away.

Hi Miss Denise. This is Whitby.

I look like a "splosion" happened to me.   All I did was go down to the pond after breakfast. Somebody -- like that cat from across the pond or a raccoon or an opossum -- had been down there and I had to get my schnauzer nose close to it.   You understand, don't you? Well, the water's really low and the edge is really soft.   When I got back to the house and that Tal opened the door to let me in I had mud all the way up to all four elbows. My belly was a little messy, too.

Janet gave me a bath.   That's where the "splosion" part comes in.   I just knew it was going to be bad when my bud Tal plugged in Miss Janet's hairdryer.   She said it was because she didn't want me to stay wet and get cold.   I'm thinking punishment.   What about you?   Anyway, when that hair dryer and my ungroomed self got together ...   Well, I guess your imagination is telling you everything you really need to know.

I think I'd like to come and see you.   Could you look at your grooming calendar and let me know when I might be able to get cleaned up?   Janet's going to be gone all this week, but how about the 14th, 15th or 16th of next week?   Do you have time? Oh, and my pesky sister could do with a little work herself.   (Don't know what those two see in her, but anyway ...)

Thank you. Love, Whitby

Whitby has heard back from Denise.  The "beautimization" for both our four-legged family members will take place on the 15th.  Photos to follow.   

One of those days

We had coffee and breakfast, packed, closed the house, dropped Whitby and Belle at All God's Creatures and headed to Pawleys Island this morning.  Our destination, along with my mother, is to points in Florida -- Wesley Chapel, Lakewood Ranch and Punta Gorda, to visit family and friends. 

This morning's routine and our travel route Tal and I (and even the car) know by heart.  So many of the minutes of the day were taken up with immediate chores that there's little in particular to offer as this evening winds to a close.  The getting ready and the getting here required a lot.  The cameras stayed stowed, as did the journal and the book I'm reading.

But, what a sight we did see.  It was an overcast day and very windy.  We approached North SC and were surprised to see a lone C-17 (Globemaster III) airborne.  Touch and go in a cross wind being the lesson of the day, I suppose.  We lost sight of it for a time.  Beyond the airfield Tal slowed to make a left turn and there it was huge and hanging over Bull Swamp in a low, slow turn, landing gear down.

My closing thought as sleep beckons is of Whitby and Belle.  They approached being dropped off with grace.  In fact, I handed Belle's leash to Tara and Belle headed up the steps and into the building.  Cassie took Whitby and he set out on an exploratory walk.  Neither of our dogs looked back.  Well adjusted and secure, I suppose.  But, I sigh a little sadly anyway.  I wonder if they'll miss us.

Is it Eden?

Tal and I left home on Monday morning, September 30th. The first twenty miles of a 1200+-mile drive to Maine was in the wrong direction -- in order to drop Whitby and Belle at All God's Creatures where they will board while we are away. We have been preparing to make this trip for weeks and weeks, even months -- reading about the Allagash River, consulting maps of the Allagash River, collecting the requisite gear to spend eight days in a canoe and a tent on the Allagash River. I still can't quite believe what we have set out to do.

Over the years Tal and I have been married we have enjoyed travelling together, so the getting ready aspect is not unknown to us. We actually have a rudimentary checklist to ensure that the mail gets stopped and the hot water heater turned off. The process this time, though, was distinctly and pleasantly different in one primary way: I did not experience the usual intense panic leading up to our departure. There was no newsletter to finish; there were no last minute meetings to attend; I didn't have with me as we pulled out of the drive a list of notes to write and calls to make on the first day. I've not been gainfully employed for over two years and it's taken that long for me to clear the schedule and conclude a backlog of expectation.

Now, I didn't leave our home precisely the way I'd envisioned -- all the towels washed and freshly hung, Tal's truck clean (that'll be the day ...), the grass edged, the depleted pantry in order ... It's excessive expectation, I know, but I always want to leave home in perfect order. That's partly so I can walk back in and find it perfect, I realize. But, I also think, at least in part, there is some dim but persistent memory of Eden in all of us. From how I want to leave home as Tal and I depart on a trip to humanity's sense of fairness (and how we think things ought to be along with our restlessness and anger when they are not) -- maybe all that springs from the imprint of Eden on the collective conscience.

Well, I said maybe ...

At home

There is SO much to do I don't even know where to begin. When I woke up this morning, that was my first thought. My second thought had to do with the possibility of not getting up ...

If someone were to utter that lament in my direction, of course, I'd have something helpful to say, like "what's the most important?" or "just start," so that's what I've done. Asked and answered those two questions.

Primarily, the house needs to be cleaned and details for the All God's Creatures golf tournament (the 4th Annual, I'll have you know) given some attention. My strategy? Do one until I cannot stand it anymore and shift to the other. Here toward the end of the day progress has been made, but -- naturally -- nothing's really finished.

But then, is it ever?

Reprieve

For several weeks I have been increasingly involved in the planning of a charity golf tournament to benefit All God's Creatures (AGC), a local animal rescue and adoption non-profit, in Edgefield County. Check it out at http://www.agcpetrescue.org. The specific goal at the moment is raising sufficient funds to build a proper shelter for the animals in residence awaiting adoption on a great piece of land already owned by AGC. Presently and less-and-less satisfactorily, the entire operation is located at the home of the organization's founder.

While I admire the organization and its work and I do want to see the building erected and put to good use, something has felt amiss during these weeks. I've not been able to put a finger on what the feeling actually was, but I've experienced a distinct lack of energy for my assigned tasks. People I have contacted for specific contributions have required 2nd and 3rd reminders; registration, despite good publicity and verbal promises to form teams and sign up, have been nearly non-existent; the planning has seemed to move in circles.

My response to all this? Well, it has occupied a single line from "work harder" at one end to "forget it" at the other! And, while where I found myself on that line was dependent on the time of day, on my mood, on lots of things, I've been practically dangling from the "forget it" point for the last ten days.

Tal delivered the word of reprieve in a telephone call yesterday afternoon between my presentations in Columbia. Postponed. A calamity in which no people and no animals were hurt was the tipping point for the rest of the planning team. A structure -- a small barn constructed of heart pine -- housing an apartment and providing storage at AGC burned early yesterday morning. The aftermath of the fire, beginning with the already working bulldozer and visits from the insurance adjusters, is going to be intense, making the all uphill process of actually getting the tournament off the ground on Friday less important or even desirable.

Now, I don't think I've been having a premonition of a fire; the something feeling amiss wasn't ominous by any means. But, I have to wonder at trusting the unease. How does one differientate between a willingness or a propensity to work hard and a sense that one is having to work too hard at something?

Friday -- after five

Ah, Friday. I’ve been looking forward to this for days!

For the first time since early February I’ve been obsessively engaged in two deadline projects. The word obsessively equating to chained to the computer and inundated with paper – at the kitchen counter, in the study, on the porch table.

All God’s Creatures, a local pet rescue and adoption non-profit, is sponsoring a golf tournament in mid-May and I am one among many volunteers. And, as steward for the Virginia Seminary class of 1992, it was my task to communicate with the class on the 16th anniversary of our graduation. Both projects required composing and proofreading letters, making copies, producing mailing and return address labels, affixing proper postage to dozens of envelopes. The whole mess took days. And, getting everything to the post office before five o’clock this afternoon was the goal.

I am here to report success!

Practically nothing else was accomplished all week. Simple meals. But, no reading to speak of. No photography. No housework. No exercise. No writing. No quiet contemplation.

I wish I were less prone to this compulsive approach. Things might be more enjoyable if I would work on such projects for a time every day, not make them the sole activity of hour upon hour. Oh, and I could also enlist some assistance, I suppose. Now, why does that seem to be such an impossibility to consider?

On the other hand, I am grateful that I have time to volunteer at all. While gainfully employed there was not a scrap of time for such extras.

Maybe the next project will be different. Do I hear laughter?!