This week was about getting back to normal after my visitors left. We had so many long expeditions, with me driving all day, that it took me a few days before I didn’t feel really tired.
On Wednesday, as I mentioned briefly in the last post, we went over to see my brother Mark’s new house. He and his wife Nancy had moved up from Berkeley very quickly after spotting the house of their dreams online. He said it didn’t fit any of the conditions they had agreed upon for a new house. They wanted a small, one-story house, they got a larger, three-story log house on 13 acres with lots of landscaping. It’s a beautiful house, and I wish I had taken my phone with me when we went to visit, so that I could have taken pictures. The shell of the cabin the original owner had built, but then he himself did all the interiors, and it was beautiful workmanship, with an impressive stone fireplace and planked walls, solid wood doors, and antique furniture converted into bathroom sinks, etc. The only odd touches were a result of the wife’s aesthetic, which was different, to say the least. Pictures of babies laminated inside the bathroom door and filigreed gold switch cover plates. Also, angels around the grounds of the house. Nancy said the first thing that was going to go were the switch cover plates.
My brother was really excited about the house and eager to show us around. Since he has lived on a boat in a marina for years, this is the first house he has owned in a long time. Although my husband didn’t really want to go up and down the stairs and didn’t go on the first trip up with me, Mark got him to go up later to look at the bedroom, with its beautiful views of Mt. St. Helens.
It’s funny that they wanted a house on one floor, because just to get to the front door, you have to walk up a flight of stairs outside. The garage and downstairs bedroom are on the lower, half basement level.
Thursday, I was so tired that after doing the errands that we usually do on Tuesday (but couldn’t because I was in Portland with my friends), I lay down for a nap and woke up just before my makeup art class was supposed to start. I was doing a double that day, but I missed almost half of the first class, because it takes a half hour to drive in. Then, I just missed my teacher. She works her way around the room methodically and had just gotten to the person after me when I came in. I didn’t know what we were going to work on next, so I had to wait until she made it around the entire class, which took about a half hour. My sister and I were frustrated with this behavior on our first class with her, because we came in just a minute or two late and didn’t know what to do so had to wait for her to come around. But having worked with other teachers who were more inclined to skip around, and having been skipped many times, I think it is the fairest way to run that class. In any case, I finally got to start painting my starfish. It is a very complicated pattern of teals, aquas, and yellow, and I did the first coat of the teals. Normally, we would have painted the entire starfish teal and then added in the other colors, but the pattern was too complex to try to draw on top of the paint. I tried that with the sheep in the field on my Mont St. Michel picture, and one of them came out looking more like a cow because of double drawing that was slightly off.
On Friday, I began mowing the orchard. We originally bought our riding mower to mow the orchard, but Wayne doesn’t like the slope. I think that if we had bought a smaller mower, he would feel safer because he’d be lower down and I would feel more comfortable about learning how to use it. My sister, who uses their riding mower all the time, used ours once and said that you feel remarkably unstable on the seat. So, either they come over and mow or I have to do it with the self-propelled hand mower. I worked on it twice that day, once in the morning and once in the late afternoon after the sun had left it, and I got it about halfway done. I finished it on Sunday, being tied up on Saturday. It has a steep pitch to it, so the work is tiring.
In regard to the orchard, I was upset to notice that the buckets that we use to water our trees were all missing. They had been there a day or two before. At first, I thought Wayne might have moved them for some reason, but he did not, so I can only conclude that they were stolen. Whether I can attribute this to the general teasing that has been going on around our house, I don’t know, but stealing is a little different, even if some kids might have thought it was a funny idea. They are just five-gallon paint buckets with a hole drilled in the bottom so that we can fill them up with water and then let it leak out slowly. Last year, we just left them under whichever trees we had done last. I posted a note about it on our neighborhood Facebook page, hoping some parent would find them and make his kids return them, but no such luck.
This year, having replaced them with Firehouse Sub pickle buckets, we are going to have to take them back up to the house and bring them back down each time. Now, at least they have our address written on them. Who would think they had to worry about a thing like that? It’s one thing to be stealing some of our apples, which I think the neighborhood kids do every fall, but another to steal our buckets. We have several times caught them running away from our orchard when we arrived home, but we thought they were just playing by the pond, which we understand they used to do before we moved here.
I watered the trees on Monday afternoon and then gathered up the buckets.
On Saturday, Luke had his first class for a couple of weeks. Our attendance had been spotty anyway, because I hurt my hand a few weeks before that and missed a class. Well, it seems that if Luke misses classes he loses all his brains. We were trying to teach our dogs to put their paws on an object. The practical use of this is to be able to say “Paws” and have them put them up so we can look at them. Luke just didn’t get it at all. He was only putting his paws on his plastic dot by accident. Then, he got so obsessed by the treats that we used to teach this and that got dropped on the ground, that he failed coming when called miserably. He would sit until called, and then instead of running to me, like he knows very well how to do, he would run toward the nearest treat.
I have been really stupid about Luke. I noticed that I was finding lots of his hair around the house lately, but I was so obsessed with preparing for my guests and then entertaining them, that it didn’t occur to me until Tuesday that he was shedding his undercoat and should have had an appointment with the groomer a couple of weeks ago. Instead, because he also has a case of nettle rash, I thought he was pathologically pulling out his hair. He was, but because he’s supposed to! What an idiot! He has an appointment now, but it’s not until next week. We previously had a Keeshond, but he had no undercoat because he had a skin disease and had lost it, so I wasn’t familiar with the idea that Luke has to lose it every year.
I haven’t mentioned Hillary lately, but we are worried about her. She has gone through periods where I think she must have something really wrong with her because she throws up so much, to my thinking she just has a food allergy because we change her food and she stops throwing up. But lately, she hasn’t been able to keep anything down. We have moved her off regular food to baby food after she hardly ate anything anymore, and she liked the baby food at first, but now she hardly eats it. She has gotten really thin, which she never did before, throwing up or not. The other day, I tried her on kitten food, and she seemed to be ravenous and ate lots of it, but that was probably a mistake because after that she threw up, had diarrhea, and wet our bed. Now I’m afraid to try it again even though that was about the only thing she’s wanted to eat in a while. I think I’ll try boiling up some chicken next, as she has occasionally been able to eat something like that without vomiting.
On Saturday afternoon, Deb and I attended our next bad play at Magenta Theater. This one was really bad. It was a comedy about five women who inherit a theater. It wasn’t very funny, and it seemed as though it was also going to be very predictable. I was sitting there wondering what the point was and thinking that they probably got the rights to a very cheap play. At intermission, I leaned over to Deb and said, “What do you think about this play?” and she said, “I think we should leave immediately.” So, we did. Again, it was a British play, and again, the actors weren’t capable of doing the accents. I don’t know why they keep picking British plays. That’s three out of three. The last one of the year is Miracle on 34th Street, which is at least an American play, but I bet we’ll be getting bad Brooklyn or Bronx accents.
Instead of finishing the play, we went for a delicious Thai lunch and then wandered around town for a bit. There was a nice park nearby, but at that time of day it was just full of homeless people, so we didn’t go there. We also stopped at our favorite chocolatier and had some chocolate and coffee.
Yesterday, we took Luke for Puppy Play and Train only to find out that it was cancelled because some of the dogs had sniffles and a cough, although not, we were assured, kennel cough. It is cancelled for the entire week, and some of the dogs who didn’t get the message, like us, were very disappointed. One little Havanese wanted to play with Luke so badly that he peed on the floor. I am going to have to do some special things with Luke to keep him from getting too full of energy. Usually, I just work around the yard and let him run around or sometimes play ball with him. Maybe I’ll take him for a walk in the park.
I have seen quite a bit of the beavers swimming around in the pond this week, and Tuesday morning we saw a deer run across the road in front of another car. Monday afternoon we were sitting on our bench by the pond after watering the trees and the small birds around began making a fuss. I thought two birds were fighting, and I was watching carefully to see what they were, when a large bird of prey landed on a branch not 50 yards away from us. It was either a large hawk or a small golden eagle. I’m not sure how to tell them apart. I was trying to show Wayne where it was, but he didn’t spot it until it flew off again into a tree across the pond. It stayed there for a while, which we knew because of the fuss of the other birds. Then it flew off again toward my niece’s house but behind the trees so that we could barely catch a glimpse of it. Still for about a minute, it was in full view as it sat on the branch. I wish I had had my binoculars with me.
No hike last week because that was the day my friends left, and no picture, either. And that’s about it for this week.