Month: August 2019

Our Voices Matter! – Day 292

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Tohickon Creek near Cabin #3 (yesterday) – Photo: L. Weikel

Our Voices Matter!

When I first read the great news a few days ago, I immediately thought, “I’m going to have to write about this tonight!” Alas, I ended up writing about other things, some definitely not as important as this.

But here we are, better late than never.

Back in June, I wrote a post about the Tohickon Creek, an utterly lovely waterway that has twisted, turned, flooded, dried to a meager trickle, been dammed, become free-flowing again, and hosted whitewater enthusiasts to fly-fisherpeople, to small children. Through millennia, the Tohickon has provided a place for humans of all stripes to connect to Mother Earth, and at the same time created a habitat for woodpeckers, blue herons, trout, kingfishers, frogs, turkeys, turtles, vultures, water snakes, carp, eagles, groundhogs, hawks, deer, osprey, sunnies, crows, foxes, and bluejays (to name a few). And sometimes, when the humans get lucky, these residents allow themselves to be seen and admired by the humans.

The purpose of my post in June was to ask you to take a stand on behalf of the Tohickon and speak out to prevent the downgrading of its classification.

I know; I write about the Tohickon frequently. But take a look at that list I just made (off the top of my head) of the creatures I’ve been lucky enough to share time with along her banks. It’s extraordinary!

Overflowing Gratitude

As a result of over 900 comments from the public, essential advocacy by non-profit groups, and some pressure by local officials, it appears as though Pennsylvania’s Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) has agreed to reevaluate their classification of this creek.

I love this body of water unabashedly. For me, I guess, it symbolizes everything I love about where we live and how deeply privileged I feel to have the freedom to visit her whenever I want.

Thank you for indulging my love and reading this post. Thank you for taking the time to speak out and submit your comment(s) to the Department of Environmental Protection. Thank you for helping us buy more time for the Tohickon to be studied further and, hopefully, designated an Exceptional Value stream in the eyes of the DEP.

Our Mutual Reward

Thank you for anything and everything you did to help this extraordinary body of water continue its quest to gain crucial environmental protections.

I can only hope that as a result of us taking a stand today, our grandchildren and great grandchildren (and beyond) will still be safely playing in that creek, creating treasured memories, and feeling awe at the sight of even more abundant wildlife!

Tohickon Creek, north of Cabin 3 – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-819)

Numerology Course Starts Sunday! – Day 291

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Is Numerology a Rosetta Stone? – Photo: L. Weikel

Numerology Course Starts Sunday!

If you didn’t heed my suggestion a few weeks ago, it’s time.

In fact, it’s all in perfect timing. Why do I think so?

Because I use a variety of tools that help me better understand my life and make the most of my decisions. So, even though I am promoting a course on numerology, I am also suggesting that the timing of signing up for the course tomorrow and beginning it on Sunday seems to be auspicious astrologically as well.

Tomorrow (Friday, 30 August 2019) is the new moon. It will take place in the constellation Virgo, which is an air sign and thus is connected to the mind and thoughts and tends to favor logical pursuits, timing, understanding, and getting things ‘just so’ and ‘in order.’

Great Timing!

So, with this new moon in Virgo, it’s the perfect time to sign up, if you haven’t already, for the Numerology Course (scroll to the bottom of the page) being given by my good friend Alison Baughman. Why? Because new moons are a great time to start something new, plant the seeds of your intentions, get things rolling.

You may recall I wrote about this opportunity some weeks ago. I recommended that you ‘carpe diem’ with respect to this chance to study with Alison because her most recent announcement suggested that this may be the last time she offers the course. Ever.

And as I said before: Alison doesn’t mess around. (She may be funny as hell, but she means what she says and says what she means.) So I’m planning on taking the course too. Not because I want to be a numerologist. But because I like having an excellent foundation in a modality, and I know Alison will provide it.

It’s just good to have a working knowledge of the energies associated with the numbers we encounter every day. I guarantee, once you take this course, you’ll be ‘reducing’ all the numbers that cross your path each day and taking into consideration what they may mean. You’ll start to take notice of the numbers that surround (and sometimes bombard) you in your life. You’ll pay attention to the impact numbers have on you and your experience.

Just watch.

As I’ve said a million times before this, we are put on this earth with a myriad of tools available to us to help us better understand what we’re doing and why. Numerology is one of those tools.

Join me Sunday? She wrote the book!

(T-820)

A Smidge of Hope – Day 290

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Smidge of a Rainbow – Photo: L. Weikel

A Smidge of Hope

We all know it’s the little things. It’s the little things that push us over the edge. It’s the little things that can trigger road rage and make us go from pleasant to demented in two seconds flat.

It’s the little things that make life worth living.

It’s the little things, sometimes, that serve to bring a smile to our face just in time to shift whatever barometer we have within us to perceiving life as reflecting a rainbow rather than embodying a fogbank or a massive cloudburst.

There’s a big difference between those three ‘weather events’ and how they impact us (especially if we’re taking a walk when experiencing them). And sometimes it’s hard to perceive whether we’re impacting the weather or it’s impacting us. Are we the chicken? Or are we the egg?

Yikes. I’m all over the place tonight.

It’s stemming at least partly from the photo I want to ‘feature’ tonight (which I’d hoped to post last night, but we all know how well that went).

A Smidge of a Rainbow

I took tonight’s photo (above) last night as Karl and I traversed the ‘walkabout’ with Spartacus and Sheila  (The ‘walkabout’ is the ~4 mile route we routinely take, as opposed to the ‘walk-around,’ which is 2.1 miles.)

I was tired when we walked last night. And feeling some uneasiness over the state of the world. (Oh wow, how ridiculous is that? ‘Some uneasiness?’ The banality of that statement is laughable.) But it’s true. Karl and I were both just sort of skating along on the surface. We even commented on how sort of ‘stuck in neutral’ we’re both feeling  – paying attention to what’s going on in the world but trying our best not to get ‘hooked’ into any of it.

That’s hard.

We made a point of not digging too deeply into the specifics. We kept changing the subject, because we knew how easily we could become mired in misery.

I’m not going to recite what was (and is) going on ‘out there.’ Most of you, I suspect (with a few notable exceptions – and you know who you are!) are committed to remaining informed and many of you are activists, or you at least try to make a difference where you can. So whether our awareness of the current atrocities and outrages being visited upon our fellow Earth brothers and sisters (and Mother Earth herself) is conscious or not, we’re still picking up on the overall energy ‘out there.’ And it’s devolving.

As a result, as our mothers taught us, if we can’t say anything nice, we don’t say anything at all. Unsurprisingly, then, a good portion of our walks lately have been in silence.

Prickly Beauty of Thistle – Photo: L. Weikel

A Smidge of Love

So imagine my delight when I looked up at the sky – with no (truly, zero) expectation of seeing anything out of the ordinary – and caught sight of that smidgen of a rainbow.

It felt like an unexpected hug. No, it wasn’t some two page spread of a Technicolor spectacle. But neither was it a mere ‘rainbow dog.’ (And let me be clear: I’m not disparaging rainbow dogs. But you have to admit, they’re usually quite tiny.) It was real; it was unexpected; and it was a ray of hope. It made me smile, inside and out. It shifted my energy and kicked my perspective up a notch or two.

So of course, what was the first thing out of my mouth when I saw it? “I need to try to capture that!” I declared. “I want to share it tonight.”

We need each other. We need to give – and be – smidgens of rainbows for each other: Sharing unexpected smiles. Knowing, compassionate glances. Generous laughter.

Quick hugs, too – even if it’s just with our eyes or our words. Because it’s important, especially now, to know in our bones that we’re not alone, and that love will prevail.

(T-821)

An Unintended Consequence – Day 289

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Spartacus and Sheila – Photo: L. Weikel

An Unintended Consequence

This is probably going to be TMI for many of you. But that’s what happens when you’re writing blog posts 289 days in a row. Some days you just get stymied for something to write, and stuff gets personal. It’s an unintended consequence of the 1111 Devotion.

Honestly, though? It’s not just the number of consecutive days I’ve written. Another contributing factor to my ‘having to go TMI’ is that Verizon Wireless sporadically, haphazardly and maddeningly sends photos around the world a couple of times before delivering them, via email, to my laptop. This ‘long way home’ for my photos occasionally means that I will send myself one or two that I’d like to include in a post that evening – and they mysteriously do not arrive until 10:00 or 11:00 a.m. the next day!

It’s ridiculous. And there’s neither rhyme nor reason to it (as far as I can tell). It’s happened before – many times – but this is apparently only the second time I’ve mentioned it in a post. I’m surprised by my restraint! Ha ha.

The transfer lag time means that I can’t take advantage of photos I deliberately took during the day so I might share them with you (and by extension, give me something to write about). So…we all lose when VZ Wireless drops the ball.

The Original Premise of This Post

Back to my initial proposed over-share: An unintended consequence of my engaging in this Act of Power, this daily commitment to writing a post every night, is the fact that I have not taken one long, relaxing bath in the evening, even after a really hard day of physical work or even after a massage.

And I have to tell you: it’s been a sacrifice.

I used to love taking a bath before bed. Sinking into a tub of steaming water that’s had Epsom salts generously heaped into it, plus some aromatic oil to indulge the senses… Oh yum. And those hot baths with Epsom salts do work wonders to remove the kinks and soreness of lawn mowing or weeding.

Baths Cannot Be Short-shrifted or Compromised

The reason I’ve had to give it up is precisely linked to the fact that I just glanced at the time and see that it is 12:54 a.m. I will need to go to sleep as soon as I publish this (and ‘share’ it on my FB pages). I will be too tired to take a bath tonight.

And I refuse to take one earlier in the evening because I become completely relaxed when I take a long, hot bath. There is no way I have any desire to fight all of my bodily instincts in order to drag my consciousness back into the requisite hyper-awareness I need to write my posts. (Believe it or not!)

An odd, unintended consequence of my 1111 Devotion indeed.

Oh – and since I didn’t acknowledge the completely fabricated “Dog Day” (or whatever it was called yesterday) by posting a photo of my pups online, I’ll add this one again ‘from the archives.’ Here’s to Spartacus and Sheila!

(T-822)

Late Summer Buzz – Day 288

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The Ubiquitous Yellow Flowers (beautiful but probably invasive) – Photo: L. Weikel

Late Summer Buzz

No, I’m not referencing the name of an exotic cocktail to be enjoyed while sitting ‘round a crackling campfire. Nor am I alluding to the effects I might feel should I be imbibing said exotic cocktail.

Instead, I’m describing the constant drone of crickets or perhaps other similarly situated bugs that begins during late summer nights. It’s a curious sound, really, for it sometimes can meld so seamlessly into the background that we almost don’t hear it. It’s sort of almost the natural equivalent of static – something that comes to our attention when it suddenly stops and we realize how profound the silence is when that background drone is absent.

My sense is that the drone is crickets; crickets that are nearing the end of their lives and are, in their way, stuck on their ‘on’ switch. For whatever reason, they can’t stop. They’re not trying to get individual attention – you, know, attract a mate – the way they were at the beginning of their life cycle.

Death Drone

Now they’re just holding a single note.  One very long, very monotonous note. A droning tone. This droning, which I suppose is not actually, technically, droning since it’s much higher pitched than a conventional (or even dictionary definition of drone – which almost always specifies ‘low’) strikes me as a death call.

They’re stuck on ‘on.’ Until they’re shut down. Or shut off. Permanently.

Mother Nature’s Night Sounds

I’m writing about this phenomenon because I’m sitting on my couch with the front door open and the sounds of nature are keeping me company. The death drone of the crickets is the most noticeable – at least at the moment.

Lucky for me, it’s the rare car that whisks past at this time of night. Instead, I’m treated to Mother Nature’s night sounds.

Last night I had a screech owl trilling right outside my front door. It had to have been hanging out in the towering pine trees leaning wearily against each other just across the road. Strangely, I was awakened at 5:18 a.m. to a couple of screech owls chatting just outside our bedroom window. It was their pointed conversation that penetrated my dream and called my attention back to this Middle World.

What’s That?

I have to laugh: just as I was writing that last sentence, the slow-building bray of one of my adored donkeys that graze on the hillside behind our home began its deep yet vague, hard to pinpoint, call-of-the-sand-people sounding moan** that ends with its inevitable onkey-honk. For the life of me, I’m always caught off guard when I hear the first couple seconds of that very odd exhortation. I don’t know why – it’s one of my favorite sounds (day or night). Yet my mind always pings off that sound initially, insists that my ears zero in on the source, demanding I make sense of it. You’d think I’d recognize it immediately by now.

Which makes me wonder: why am I always fooled?

I ask that question and suddenly a cricket or three suddenly stop holding their note. It’s almost a relief from the pressure I didn’t realize was building in my head. My brain can relax, and the reprieve allows me to notice other crickets holding a slightly different note.

All of this reminds me of an especially peculiar ‘vision’ I awoke to the other morning. I swear, I opened my eyes and the image below was the first thing I saw. It took me a moment, as you can imagine, to make sense of it.

Rocco’s Toy – Photo: L. Weikel

 

It’s a reflection of a small plastic toy that Karl put on his nightstand, an odd souvenir from a friendship he’d struck with one of the longest attorney-client relationships I had in my practice: a man I cared for and represented for just under 30 years.

He passed away a few years ago. And I think of him more often than I – or he, I imagine – would’ve ever thought I would.

We’re entering that season, I guess.

**Surely you ‘get’ this reference to the scene in Star Wars – Episode IV (the first one) when Luke meets Obi-Wan for the first time?

(T-823)

Trust and Amazon Burning – Day 287

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Amazonian fires viewed by satellite – Photo: businessinsider.com

Trust and Amazon Burning

Let’s face it: we’re all starting to feel that awful sense of impending doom starting to creep into our bellies. We’re actually, literally, standing by and watching the apocalyptic movie plot begin to unfold before our eyes – and we’re all freaking extras.

While I occasionally become overwhelmed with the magnitude of it all (and I’m including in that overwhelm my reaction to a plethora of awfulness, not ‘just’ watching the vast taiga in Siberia and the rainforest of the Amazon burn), I fundamentally do not want to stand by and stoke an attitude of hopelessness.

If I’m honest with myself, my overall drop-dead attitude and worldview is one of optimism. As long as we’re still here, we have an obligation to persevere and to do our best to make life better on this planet.

How Do We Make Things Better?

I mentioned that there’s one small act we can take on the 1stof every month, an act that joins us, collectively, with thousands of people throughout the world, using just ten drops of something called Essence of Perelandra. It’s an act that heightens the attention of many on a specific intention.

We can donate time, money, resources, and unique skills to causes that call to our hearts and help effect change or implement policies that reflect our values.

We can rage against the horrors, write to our legislators, stage protests, organize to ensure policies are in place that will keep voting from becoming a right only of the elite.

What About Trust?

Sometimes, as I’ve written about at least tangentially before, walking our talk and living a life that embraces shamanic principles demands an act of faith. Making the choice to maintain a sense of hope is one of those moments when we choose for ourselves: either I trust in something bigger than myself or I don’t.

I listened to and witnessed an important message this morning on dealing with our rage, frustrations, and sense of helplessness about the fires burning uncontrolled across our planet, but particularly in the Amazon.

It’s a video of Charles Eisenstein, and I’m sharing it because he makes a compelling argument for us to embrace TRUST – and to vigilantly do our best to take responsibility for how we choose to perceive the world and what we choose to ‘put out’ into the world .

As you may recall, living a shamanic life is all about our perceptions.

I’d like to offer this to you for your consideration this morning.

We always have the ability to refuse to give up, to embrace hope, and to trust in something larger than ourselves – while doing whatever we can to move things forward even the tiniest bit..

(T-824)

How Much Do We REALLY Change? – Day 286

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Me – Around Age 5 – Photo: L. Guerke

How Much Do We REALLY Change?

I want to share something that made me chuckle this week.

My eldest sister, Jane, sent me a card. Interestingly, it had on its front an amazing Monarch butterfly – a particular type of butterfly that had held center stage in a session I’d had earlier in the week. But even though it was a sweet surprise to see that specific butterfly make yet another appearance, that was not what made me chuckle.

No, what made me chuckle was the copy of my Kindergarten Report Card my sister had enclosed. I could tell this was something my mother must have sent her, as not only was it an obviously archaic photocopy (probably one of the first of its kind for use by the general public, given this was school year 1964-1965), but it was also lovingly ‘cut to size’ with pinking sheers.

So many of the photos and newspaper clippings I find from that era have that distinctive jagged edge that was a hallmark of the attention my mother paid to what she considered important in the world.

Part of my Kindergarten Report Card – Photo: L. Weikel

Not Tons of Pressure, But…

It’s refreshing to look back and see both what I and my fellow kindergarten compadres were graded on back then – and to see that there were only three ‘grade’ choices: S = Satisfactory, I = Improvement Shown, and N = Needs Improvement. Grades were given in several specific subcategories of four main areas of concentration: Physical Growth, Mental Development, Social Adjustment, and Work Habits.

On the four pages of the ‘report card,’ there were stick figures illustrating the subjects. I had to laugh: beside the Social Adjustment area of concentration one stick figure appears to be pulling the hair of another! More troubling, it looks like the hair puller is a lot taller than the kid whose hair is being pulled. Is it fair to assume that it’s the teacher pulling that little kid’s hair? They do have a smile on their face. Yikes!

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the area of “Social Adjustment” was where my streak of “S’s” took a hit. Only one “I” (and no “N’s”) – but where do you think it was given? The sub-category of “Is Obedient?” Bzzzzt! Nope!

How about “Is Cooperative?” Bzzzzt! Nope.

No, it was in the sub-category of “Shows Self-Control.”

Oh my. I’m shocked. Shocked, I say! And I have to assert, in my own defense: I’ve come so  far. (Ha ha ha ha.)

Best of All

But what really and truly made my heart skip, though, was reading the comments of my teacher, Mrs. Humes. In particular, her last two sentences made my day – some 55 years after they were written:

“Her only problem is her tremendous enthusiasm (for life in general) which sometimes leads her into trouble ~ she’s working hard to control the ‘trouble spots.’”

If I had to have a problem, I’m delighted it was that. (And for the record, I know Mrs. Humes did not try to break my spirit. A fact for which I’m extremely grateful.)

And to answer my initial question: From experience? Not that much.

(Thanks, Jane! Love you!)

(T-825)

Mulling – Day 285

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Photo: L. Weikel

Mulling

Ever since I acquiesced to my friend Luz’s insistence that I at least try my hand at painting with her, the question of whether I would ever give myself the chance to do it again has lurked at the back of my mind.

I wrote about how much fun I had when I finally let myself do it in this post. And I revealed the ‘fruits,’ as I called them in this post.

I would be remiss if I didn’t say thank you to all of you, by the way, for the many kind and complimentary comments to that post in particular.

A Trip to the Art Store

The truth at this very moment is that I couldn’t, even on a whim, try my hand at creating another painting. Why? Because I have no canvases and I have no acrylics. Ostensibly I have access to (Karl’s) brushes, but I have a healthy dose of skepticism with respect to the shape in which I’ll find those. I think I’d rather have my own stuff anyway.

Because we seem to do things almost entirely opposite each other, it comes as no surprise that the medium Karl seems to prefer (oils) is much more complicated than the medium I just experienced. Ideally, I’d like to stick with what I know, which – of course – necessitates a trip to an art supply store – stat.

Triggers Even More

Oooh, just even the thought of going to an art store brings a flood of memories. I used to get such a thrill out of shopping at the art store for young Karl. Birthday, Christmas, it didn’t matter what event we were celebrating – I’d always have a gift from the art store at the ready. Nothing was going to come between my kid and his creativity if I could help it.

My two favorite stores: the office supply store and the art supply store.  I just have to laugh.

Do I Want to Risk It?

That’s what I pretty much have to ask myself. Do I want to risk revealing that the paintings I created as I stood side-by-side with Luz were an astonishing case of ‘beginners’ luck?’ It would be easy to simply revel in the first two.

It would be easy to never do it again – just as it was easy for me to put Luz off (for a while, at least).  It’s interesting – I could even feel myself getting just a tiny bit irritated by my friend’s insistence that I give this medium a try. “Just play, Lisa. Please? Do it for me.”

And I have to ask myself: why would I – why did I – give it a try for her and not for myself?

(T-826)

We CAN Do Something – Day 284

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My “Perelandra Stash” – Photo: L. Weikel

We CAN Do Something                 

I have a couple of subjects I was contemplating writing about tonight. That’s a rare occurrence, let me assure you. I just hope I remember what they were tomorrow!

But I realize there’s one thing I intended to write about last month, but let the time slip away until it was too late. I don’t want that to happen again this month, so I’m making it a priority tonight.

It’s In Our Faces

It’s probably all the more timely that I write this post tonight because it’s likely everyone has at least seen some of the photos and perhaps read an article or two on the astonishingly huge fires raging in the Amazon at the moment. This should be of global concern (and outrage), as the fires are so massive they can be seen from space. And it bears repeating that the Amazon rainforest acts as the lungs of our planet.

If Mother Earth’s lungs burn up, we die. And the speed of our demise is all the more accelerated by the double devastation wrought by the burning of the rainforests: (Wammy #1) Losing the rainforests means we lose all those trees that breathe in the carbon dioxide in our atmosphere (and in turn ‘exhale’ oxygen for us to breathe); and (Wammy #2) Beyond the loss described in Wammy #1, the actual burning of the trees creates more carbon being released into the atmosphere, thereby doubling the devastating effects on the world.

To make matters worse, the forest fires in the taiga of Siberia are also far worse this year than usual. Again, these raging, out of control forest fires are having a doubly devastating effect on the global environment.

One Unconventional Method of Addressing the Fires

One means of addressing these out of control, raging fires is via weather shamanism. I’ve linked that phrase to a wonderful book I’ve owned and read many times and refer to often. This practice is common and an essential aspect of a shaman’s duties to her or his community in Siberia. Wildfires in the taiga are not uncommon, often being sparked by lightning and dry or drought conditions. Shamans are routinely asked to step up and journey to the spirit of the fire to see if there is a message or a demand that can be met. Journeys are also often taken to the atmosphere, with efforts made to communicate with the essential natures of clouds and water vapor in the atmosphere.

The shamanic aspect of journeying to work with the spirits of these Beings can have profound effects, and I could probably write more on this subject.

Perelandra

But for now, I want to introduce you to an organization based in Virginia that is dedicated to working with the sentience that is Nature. It’s called Perelandra.

There’s a pretty amazing story of how (from very unlikely circumstances) Machaelle Small Wright discovered she could communicate with the devic realm, including Pan. Working in concert with Nature and her own Higher Self, she discovered she could not only co-create a physical environment that supported astonishing growth in a seemingly inhospitable environment (not unlike Findhorn, with whom she consulted and collaborated when first beginning this work some 40 years ago), but also work with these Beings to bring balance to human beings.

I am both grossly oversimplifying the story of Perelandra and simultaneously making it sound far more complicated than it is. There are short versions to be found on the website, and for those of you who, like me, enjoy memoir and learning in an author’s own words how they came to ‘be’ who they ‘are,’ she has written several books documenting her rather remarkable journey.

An Easier Way (If You Don’t Journey)

Just as I could wax on about weather shamanism, I could write a lot more about Perelandra and my experience with it beginning at least 30 years ago. (Man, I was busy discovering lots of cool stuff back in my 20s and 30s!) If you’re intrigued, I suggest you to go the website and poke around there.

I can assure you, I work with these essences every day. I also work with my MAP team, which you can also learn about on the website. (And maybe I’ll write about that sometime, too.)

But for right now? I’d like you to consider investing in a bottle of Essence of Perelandra (also known as EoP) so you can participate in the monthly EoP Biodiversity Project Machaelle just recently instituted. It is a very simple protocol that takes no more than five minutes – and only ten drops of EoP. The power of the process is magnified exponentially by the power of all of us working with Nature on the 1stday of each month.

Check It Out For Yourself

Click on some of the links I’m providing in this post and read about it for yourself. It’s a simple thing. But it is a tangible act you can take, joining with thousands of other people around the world, all in an effort to work with Nature to contribute to the overall health of the planet.

If you order EoP now, Perelandra is running a great sale on EoP. They want to encourage as many people as possible to participate. I feel extremely confident in the integrity of Machaelle Small Wright and Perelandra.

And I hope this gives you the opportunity to feel you are taking a tangible step to stop the insanity.

I’ll also wager you’ll find the astonishing variety of applications of Perelandra essences to be intriguing and very possibly holding the potential of dramatically improving your well-being.

(T-827)

Declaration – Day 283

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Christmas Sheila – Photo: L. Weikel

Declaration              

I need to ‘fess up and make the following declaration: I NEED TO GET WALKING AGAIN!

The sad, sad truth is that I haven’t logged more than 2.3 miles (which I walked on Monday) in a single day since Sunday, August 4th, when I walked 3.7 miles. That’s simply unacceptable.

I did have one day that yielded interesting stats, though. Check it out:

 

In my defense, my most compelling excuse has been the oppressive heat and humidity that’s been blanketing our area. And for all you who live anywhere near me, you know the operative word here is, in fact, blanketing. It almost squeezes the breath out of you when you walk out the door and feel the heaviness of the air put the squeeze on you like those new weighted blankets I’ve seen being advertised.

Blame It On Sheila

And I don’t dare take Sheila. She’ll keel over. In fact, the old girl has given us a scare a couple of times recently, just deciding she’s going to ‘go on walkabout.’ We put her harness on, turn away to get her leash or pack some treats in a bag to take along on the walk and suddenly discover she’s decided to start the walk without us.

She’s never been like this! She’s always been the one we could consistently rely upon to stay on the porch and not wander off.

And what makes everything exponentially worse about the situation is that she really and truly is deaf – and pretty blind, too. The cataracts look pretty complete in one eye, and not insignificant in the other eye as well.

We can only guess that she (a) knows the way by rote, as she’s walked it so very many times throughout her life; and (b) her nose, combined with her recollection of the ‘usual’ walk itself, is her guiding light.

Nose Trumps All (and gets her in trouble)

Speaking of that nose, though… I think that’s what got her in trouble the other day.

Karl and I thought we might sneak in a quick walk (the 2.2) on Monday morning, before either of us plunged headlong into our day. We put on the pups’ harnesses in anticipation, even though we had yet to pick out cards for the day.

As we were choosing our cards, we suddenly realized that Sheila had wandered off. It’s weird. She and Spart are always around. We don’t pay constant attention to them – they’re just part of our lives. Sitting on the couch, cuddled on their outside pillow, basking in the sun on the grass when we’re outside, etc.

So it was all of a sudden that Karl looked at me aghast and asked, “Where’s Sheila?”

I looked around, my eyes surveying in a smooth search of the perimeter all of her usual haunts. No Sheila.

DARN it. We’d only minutes before joked about how we’d have to keep an eye on her, since we were putting her harness on. We were pretty sure she only went on walkabout, though, if we happened to leave her out on the porch by herself.

Well that was debunked almost immediately.

You Search One Way, I’ll Search Another

Karl, based on an experience he’d had right before leaving to pick me up at the airport Sunday morning, jumped into his car to do a sweep of our walking route.

Spartacus and I, on the other hand, headed back behind the barn. I was calling her, even though I knew that was fruitless, and also clapping my hands. Clapping seems to be the most effective and reliable way of getting her attention lately.

So I’m out there calling and clapping, calling and clapping. I go all the way back behind the barn to the wildflowers I pictured in last night’s post, checking in the tall, tall grasses, stopping now and again to see if there was any movement or sign of my Sheila.

Nope

Reluctantly, Spart and I head back up to the house. I just keep calling and clapping, calling and clapping.

Then I hear it: an unfamiliar rustling sound. I step off the porch. It sounds like it’s coming from the garage. I keep calling and clapping, calling and clapping.

More rustling. As I get closer, it now sounds like it’s coming from outside the garage. Perhaps the grove of trees just beyond it?

That’s when I encountered this:

Yes; apparently Sheila’s nose had diverted her into the garage, where she scored an empty bag of chips Karl had squirreled away while painting when I was at Amadell. Busted!

And there was Sheila, pretty well stuck. I’m sure all my calling and clapping had motivated her to come out of the garage – but her internal GPS was distorted inside the chip bag. While she may have known she took a wrong turn and been frustrated, I have no doubt her stress was significantly ameliorated by the yummy salt, fat, and chip crumb heaven she found herself in.

(Spartacus kept sniffing and licking the back of her head the rest of the day.)

We need to walk.

(T-828)