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Stark Clarity – ND #44

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Arc of Illumination from the Rising Full Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

Stark Clarity

We’re heading into another exceptionally chilly (downright freaking COLD) weekend. What I didn’t realize until just now is that we’re already ‘in it.’ When I took the pups out for their final break before bed, I realized the stark clarity of the night sky was a harbinger of more arctic-like temperatures. But I was nevertheless surprised when I just checked the Weather Channel app to see that it’s officially 16 degrees, with a ‘wind chill’ temperature of only 4 degrees!

Yep, that’s frigid. And looking ahead to the hourly forecast for tomorrow, I’m sensing a distinct, if reluctant, anticipatory disinclination to walk.

I guess I’m just going to have to use this time as a delicious opportunity to cocoon.

Play Hard, Sleep Hard – Photo: L. Weikel

Role Models

I have to admit, I’ve recently had conversations with a couple friends and family who are consciously taking the opportunity provided by these days of icy temperatures and raging Covid to hunker down inside their homes and go even deeper: they’ve been giving themselves the gift of their own attention.

Why is it that sometimes, for some of us, that’s an activity as rare as hens’ teeth? (Ha ha  – I love that expression. Thanks for indulging me.)

Maybe it’s not a case of asking why anymore. Or shouldn’t be.

Maybe it’s time to just do it.

Rising Full Wolf Moon (NOT the Sun!) – Photo: L. Weikel

Lists and Rewards

I’m a list maker. And I never seem to want for additional tasks I tell myself I need to accomplish before I’ll permit myself to simply revel in the activities that give me the greatest joy. It’s an old, tiresome habit, and I hoped to have outgrown it by now. Obviously, I have not.

Maybe I’ll make a list tomorrow that consists solely of activities that that feed my soul. I wonder if I could actually stick to it?

I might as well give it a try. This third weekend of the new year of 2022 feels like it’s demanding a different focus. In order to really get things set on a new trajectory, I need to give myself the gift of my own attention.

If I get bored (no comment), I can always look to the pups for entertainment – or inspiration.

(T+44)

Witness – ND #43

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Tigger enjoying a few tender moments alone – Photo: L. Weikel

Most Treasured

It’s funny. I keep trying to jump-start this post by declaring what I refuse to write about for a third night in a row. For once, I really wanted to witness victory being snatched from the jaws of all-but-certain defeat. But it was not meant to be. Apparently we really are going to have to live out the nightmare of watching our country’s most treasured and revered foundational concepts crumble before our eyes, mostly because people simply cannot wrap their heads around the fact that this ‘really could happen’ in the United States.

So tonight I’m just going to keep it light.

Cuteness Prevails

Take Tigger, for example. According to the adoption papers we received when he was rescued years ago by my son and his then girlfriend (now wife), he’s starting to get up there in years. In fact, I think he may be 16 years old or so.

Tigger is by far the most patient of all our animals, but especially the most patient of our felines. He was the first to welcome the pups with open paws, and he endures relentless acts of butt-sniffing and puppy-tackles on a daily basis. It’s rare for him to lash out at either pup. Indeed, the only times I’ve ever seen him hiss or retaliate in any form were when they either took him utterly by surprise or, not surprisingly, when they simply refused to knock off their antics after too many tumbles or nips.

As many of my photos attest, the pups tend to be hogs when it comes to nestling in front of the fire. Once they’ve outgrown puppyhood, I’m pretty sure they’ll welcome cuddling with the felines – or perhaps I should say the cats may decide it’s safe to snuggle with them. But in the meantime, they swing from one end of the spectrum (as bundles of effervescent energy) to another (dead-weight, snoring, lights-out immovable lumps) in the blink of an eye. Consequently, the cats are finding languishing fireside to be an indulgence they rarely experience.

And so it was adorable earlier today when I discovered Tigger snatching a few zzzz’s hearthside, sharing the pet pillow with one of the pups’ favorite toys: the Fox. (The pups were asleep in their crate; I forget why.)

“MY Fox” – Photo: L. Weikel

Melts My Heart

It’s moments like these that melt my heart. Tigger, as old as he is, still plays like a frisky kitten – when the mood strikes him. Usually the mood hits when I’m making our bed. He mrrrows and arches his back, hops sideways and tackles my hand when I’m smoothing out the comforter. He’s hilarious. But I also watch him as he observes the mad scrambles of Pacha and Brutus when I throw their toy (the Fox, again, being a favorite) and they race to bring it back to me.

If it weren’t below his dignity, I actually think he’d be tempted to race after the toy himself and triumphantly bring it back to me. Or at the very least, jump on it and fling it a couple of times.

He just jumped up on the couch and mrrrowed to me. “Time for bed, Mommy.”

So now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to forget about the sad state of our country and go snuggle with my Tiggery.

(T+43)

Put Up Or Shut Up – ND #42

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We can’t be as chill as Cletus about this – Photo: L. Weikel

Put Up or Shut Up

Well, the jury’s still out on whether we’ll achieve any kind of a meaningful breakthrough in the Senate to protect voting rights. The latest I heard was that there’s an effort underway to at least bring back the ‘talking’ filibuster for matters pertaining to constitutional issues. This could also be known as the ‘put up or shut up’ amendment to the rule creating the filibuster. It’s not enough, but it’s about time we demand that any Senator who wants to join in a filibuster must stand and deliver some defense of their position.

I find it quite appalling that this could have such a dramatic effect on our esteemed Senators. Seriously – what do we send these people to Congress for if not to show up and vote? Or show up and explain their reasons for not voting for something?

It galls me when cameras slip up and we realize that what we’re watching on the television (such as an impassioned floor speech or two) is being delivered to a nearly empty chamber. Most of these Senators and Representatives deliver speeches to an almost empty room. Why? Where is the respect for their colleagues? Where is the respect for the institution itself?

I know. I’m letting my idealism show again.

Major Overhaul

It just seems as though we’re being shown in a myriad of ways how broken our system is and how cynical those who represent us have become. Not all of them – but certainly a shockingly high percentage. When you really dig down and take stock of how these politicians spend their days (many, not all) it becomes stunningly obvious that we have to get the money out of politics.

Money is the driving force behind everything in our governments, both federal and state, but especially on the federal level. And because it is so inherently ‘the game that’s played,’ there is no way any well-intentioned person can simply say they won’t play along and live (politically) for more than one term. Whether you think term limits are good or not, precious little can be accomplished in one term.

The only way to effect meaningful change is to overhaul the entire system. And we can’t fall back on the old trope of ‘it’s always been done this way,’ or ‘it’s too hard to change the way things are done,’ because it really is broken. It’s unsustainable. I realize that perhaps everything needs to fall apart before we can build again. And I hate that this may be our reality, but it does look like where we’re headed.

There’s probably one thing most Americans can agree on at the moment, and that’s the sad fact that our system is on a trajectory toward self-destruction. And only we can save it. We the people, I mean. Because clearly those who are feeding at the trough of power and greed cannot stop themselves.

Alas, reform will never, ever happen if we don’t secure the right of all citizens to vote easily and securely. Everything hinges on our right to vote. Everything.

(T+42)

Radically Positive – ND #41

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Photo: L. Weikel

Radically Positive

Tomorrow (Tuesday 18 January 2022) has the potential to be a radically positive day in the United States. Conventional wisdom, of course, suggests that it will merely be a sad (and infuriatingly disgusting) affirmation of the dark, anti-democratic trajectory our country seems to be insisting upon taking.

I’m speaking of the Senate beginning formal debate on the Freedom to Vote: John R. Lewis Act. It is utterly disgusting to me that this is even a ‘thing’ in our country in the 21st century – that due to the rooted-in-racism origin of the Senate rule establishing the filibuster, it takes 60 votes to even begin debate on bills in the Senate.

The only way debate will be taking place tomorrow on this voting rights bill is because it will be attached as an amendment to a bill related to NASA that has already passed the Senate, and then the House (with amendments), and is now going directly back to the Senate. What a convoluted process to even open debate on such a fundamental and defining aspect of our system of government.

Just think of it! Voting: our sacred opportunity to have a voice in our government is under as great a threat now as it was 60 years ago. There are forces at work (that have lurked in the darkness for the duration of our country’s existence) that will do anything to skew the table as to who has the power of the franchise. Talk about things being ‘rigged.’ This needs to end.

Cause for Optimism

You’ll recall that I began this post with the shocking suggestion that tomorrow may end up rendering a positive outcome. My teeny tiny sliver of hope comes from the stars. Because…why not?

First of all, we just enjoyed a full moon tonight (the 17th), and full moons usually bring with them a sense of culmination and fulfillment. Well, ok. I’m ready to embrace the idea that the forces of racism and blatant (as well as subtle) attempts to disenfranchise our fellow citizens have run their course. It’s time for this revolting attitude and mindset that enshrines inequality to come to an end.

And beyond the full moon is the fact that Uranus, the great planet of revolution, lightning-like change, and enlightenment is ending its retrograde course and turns direct on the 18th. It’s time now for us to stop hanging back. It’s time for some major disruption in ‘the way things are done’ – in a positive sense – by jettisoning the filibuster or simply having a couple of Republicans actually stand up and courageously take a stand ensuring voting rights for all citizens.

Oh my, wouldn’t that just be a radical notion? Wouldn’t it be utterly thrilling if we suddenly witnessed the entire Senate stand up and link arms in solidarity to the fundamental building block of our nation? Yes, I know. I’m a dreamer.

But who knows? Maybe we’ll witness something amazing tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be a radically positive outcome to a battle that needs to end now?

(T+41)

Strength and Tranquility – ND #40

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Strength and Tranquility – Photo: L. Weikel

Strength and Tranquility

Adding an extra leg to my journey, I took a detour from my usual walking route and paid a visit to an anchoring source of both strength and tranquility: the Tohickon Creek. In spite of the cold, I felt drawn to her soothing presence. It’s been a while since I had a chance to just be with her and listen to her voice.

Along the way, both coming and going, I encountered a number of deer. I didn’t even try to take any photos of them. It was as if they moved just enough to reveal their presence, grazing amongst the trees and weeds of the rocky hillside. Then, entering stillness again, they melted back into their surroundings.

Perhaps it was the rather specific amount of leftover mini-piles of snow sporadically strewn about the hillside that made me appreciate how well-suited deer are to blending into their milieu. Up until now I was pretty sure the white tails of our ‘white-tail deer,’ were more a ‘tell’ than a tool. But today? Today I was fascinated to see that the glimpses I caught of their tails resembled the random pockets of snow scattered amongst the dead leaves and other detritus of the forest floor.

Huh. I never noticed that before. And I’ve seen a lot of deer in my time.

Cormorant? – Photo: L. Weikel

Icy and Cold

When I got to the creek itself, I could make out a single large-ish sized bird standing on a boulder further down the creek. My gut tells me it was a cormorant, even though that’s not a bird I routinely associate with the creek.

The ice forming along the banks took on the blue-ish hue of the overcast sky. Even though the sun had set and snow crystals were just beginning to spit from the thick blanket of gray above me, I see hints of magenta and green in the geometric forms of the freezing water. Or maybe its my imagination as I view these photos now.

No matter. My beloved Tohickon worked her magic. My heart found peace.

I offered her some strands of my hair in gratitude for the comfort she unfailingly provides me when I need it most.

Serpentine Currents of the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

 

(T+40)

Owl Shagging Moon – ND #39

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Spotted on my walk (but not today) – Photo: L. Weikel

Owl Shagging Moon

The full moon making its appearance this Monday evening (6:48 p.m. EST on January 17th) is often referred to as the Wolf Moon. Given the paucity of wolves in our local environs, at least, and also based upon my personal observations (at least audibly), I propose it is more appropriately named the Owl Shagging Moon.

Most of our walks this week took place at dusk. Despite of our best intentions, inevitably the sun is making its last hurrah just as we get going. On the plus side, I’ve captured some stunning sunsets on my iPhone. And while I hope I’ll never tire of appreciating the magnificence of these works of art, I’ve become acutely aware of something else happening recently, just after the sun dips below the horizon.

All of a sudden, literally moments after the sun’s brilliant, usually carnelian visage slips beyond our view, a chorus of Great Horned Owl hoots starts bouncing off the massive walls of rock carved by Tohickon Creek through the millennia.

Hoot; counter-hoot. Sometimes hoots overlapping each other. One thing I can tell you: I’ve heard more hoots in the past week than I usually hear the rest of the year combined. It’s mating time, baby!

In the glow of a July night – Photo: L. Weikel

Some Action Happening

I can only surmise there’s some action happening in the treetops, and sometime in March we can  expect some owlets to be hatching. Not that I’d be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of them. But a girl can dream.

This has been the most active January (hooting-wise) I can remember in quite a while. It could just be a function of the time of day we’re walking, or the relative mildness of the weather we’ve had recently compared to other years. But hearing them calling to each other yet again this evening reminded me that I do think this full moon needs to be re-named. I can’t say I’ve heard a single wolf howl. (Thank goodness, given where we live!)

The calls of the Great Horned Owls are kind of a lovely reminder of how fertile our nesting can be during the cold moons of January and February.

It makes me ponder what I can do right now that’s playful, satisfying, and inherently creative, that just might lead to something new hatching in 6-8 weeks.

(T+39)

Batten Down the Hatches – ND #38

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Cletus Holding Court – Photo: L. Weikel

The cold front pushed through as we were finishing up our walk late this afternoon. Or would you consider 5:00 p.m. to be early evening? Either way, as we descended the hill toward home on the last leg of our journey, the wind picked up and shifted dramatically, and the temperature dropped a good 15-20 degrees within moments. It’s plummeted even further since then. Time to batten down the hatches and engage in serious snuggling.

I know; I know. Weather-related posts are inherently boring. But it’s all I can think about. It’s tough to write about anything else when I’m suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to burrow into a soft furry blanket and read a book.

The puppies are snoring; Tigger and Precious are curled up, perched on the backs of the couch and loveseat, respectively, and obviously immersed in the Dreamtime. Cletus is outside, going out of his way to howl and carry on over his inherent conflict between desiring (and demanding) his FREEDOM and realizing that he doesn’t actually want to spend the evening in the barn (or wherever else it is that he loves to frequent).

He thinks he’s a tomcat – all badass and whatnot – and forgets that he’s Cletus the Pampered (not to mention neutered) Jerk. I’m not about to argue with him. He’s foul.

Brutus and Cletus – Photo: L. Weikel

He’s All That

The way this post has taken a turn toward Cletus reminds me of how I managed to snag a rare photo of him holding court with the pups earlier today. He’s definitely the one who schools them in their naughtiest activities. Sometimes I swear I catch him looking on with an expression of pure evil – I mean joy – especially when we’ve caught the pups engaging in particularly egregious activity.

For all his foul expressions and ways of being, they adore him. Surprisingly, he rarely lashes out at them, even though their enthusiasm can get the better of them fairly often.

It’s especially annoying to me that he’s so forgiving of the pups when he acts like such an unbelievable jerk to me. Every single night he demands to be put out. (This is how I know he loves to fancy himself a cat-about-town.) And every single night he sits under the kitchen chair closest to the door and lunges at me as I go to open it. How he can consider this to be a game is beyond me. He growls and spits. Lunges with claws unsheathed.

And then the next morning he’s my best friend in the whole world. Most of the time, at least. Purring, rubbing his head against my hands, mrrrowing, and demanding to be petted. He’s a psycho.

I know he can (and probably will) shoot me a claw without warning. But the puppies adore him. We all do, in spite of himself. Or is it in spite of ourselves? Either way, I need to go let him in. Even the great cat-about-town wants to hunker down ‘in-house’ tonight.

Wishing you all a warm and cozy weekend.

 

(T+38)

Big Cold is Coming – ND #37

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All Is Well – Photo: L. Weikel

I wanted to get more mileage in today just because I know the Big Cold is coming again over the next several days. They’re calling for a low of 12 degrees tomorrow night. And then maybe snow. While I know these are ‘seasonal’ temperatures, they’re nevertheless bone-chilling and tend to discourage longer treks.

But when all is said and done, though? I’m much happier with frigid temperatures in January than the overly warm stuff we endured over Christmas. I actually saw crocuses poking their heads out of the ground two weeks ago. Not what we want to embrace as our new normal.

On the upside, Brutus seems to be feeling much better today (thank goodness). Indeed, early this morning he exuberantly smothered me with kisses and then proceeded to engage in some seriously relentless indoor aerobics with his sister, which Karl described as “like zoomies on steroids.”

Cloud Winged One – Photo: L. Weikel

Today’s Gift

Besides the relief I felt seeing Brutus feeling better this morning, another gift I received was catching sight of this Cloud Being speeding through the air. It feels like it’s been a long time since I saw some distinct cloud formations. That’s not to say I don’t relish the stupendous sunsets we’ve shared or the recent stunning aspects between the planets and the moon.

But regular Cloud Beings making an appearance? The sightings have been rare of late.

So I wanted to share this one that appeared today and express my appreciation for it.

Some days we need to delight in the little things. Well, we should every day, but that’s not always possible nor are we likely to always be so impeccable.

With all the hard stuff going on ‘out there,’ sometimes the only way through it is to delight in what’s right in front of our noses. And sometimes the pickin’s are a little slim. I just re-read these last two sentences and let me just say: I regret the innuendo.

(T+37)

Rough Day – ND #36

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Cheese Hound – Photo: L. Weikel

Rough Day

Some little boy had a rough day today. But there was still enough fire left in his belly to be bad!

The afternoon started out innocently enough, with Pacha and Brutus scheduled for their second Lyme vaccination just after lunch. So we headed up to the vet’s office and managed to get there uneventfully. In fact, they seem to relish car rides.

They both clocked in with weight gains that have been impressive with every single visit to the vet. This time Brutus was just shy of 16 lbs. (15. 9 to be exact), with Pacha weighing in at 14.8. That’s pretty significant, if you ask me.

Anyway, the shots were administered seamlessly.

Special Delivery

After our visit to the good doctor, we needed to make a special delivery. I only mention this because part of the route we took to make that delivery was on a road that bears significant twists and turns. We weren’t gone for long, but on the way home, Brutus reminded me of one of the more consistent yet unpleasant differences between cats and dogs, which is that dogs do not give ‘fair warning’ of impending nausea.

Well! Following our special delivery, Brutus decided to make one of his own. Without my knowledge (keeping my eyes on the road and such), I did not realize that he had barfed up the contents of his stomach. Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I would say he’d stuffed his morning feast in a ziplok bag and unloaded it on us. That’s how intact it all was when it appeared before me a second time.

I know this may be ‘tmi’ for some of you, but it was rather impressive that he managed to fill the cup holder in my vehicle with the breakfast he’d eaten three hours earlier. Given the quantity this growing puppy had ingested, he also managed to barf up another massive amount which he artfully aimed between the console and my seat.

The whole thing was executed masterfully (if unintentionally).

The few that escaped being pilfered – Photo: L. Weikel

The Aftermath

I brought both of the pups inside when we got home and retrieved a roll of paper towels. We interrupted Karl making himself a mid-afternoon snack of cheese on wasabi rice crackers with a dollop of mustard for garnish. Nevertheless, he set them aside and came out to the car to witness the carnage, returning to the house immediately, while I tended to the remediation.

When I completed my task as clean-up crew, I walked into the living room to find the very same puppy with the very same expression on his face as in the photograph at the top of this post. Talk about a puppy who knows he broke the rules! Guilt and regret seem to be written all over his face.

I looked at the plate on the tray table in front of said beleaguered puppy. A handful of crackers with cheese remained on the plate. Karl, growling more for Brutus’s sake than mine, simply said, “I guess he had a void to fill.”

“How many cheese crackers had you made for yourself?” I asked.

“A plate full.”

“Oooh. Wow.” And looking Brutus in the eye, I asked, “Did you do this?”

Yes. Yes he had. And he hasn’t been fully on his game ever since. (And I’m trying not to relive the trauma of Spartacus suddenly not feeling well.)

Ah, adolescence. But still…I do have to admire his aim. Filling the cup holder was gross but masterful.

(T+36)

Puppies Extraordinaire – ND #35

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Staying Warm and Plotting Strategy – Photo: L. Weikel

Puppies Extraordinaire

Karl and I managed to take a brisk walk in this afternoon. Thank goodness we got it in before the sun set! I don’t think the temperature managed to reach 20 degrees today, but I know for sure it dropped as soon as it got dark – and I see it’s 14 degrees out right now. But the two I really want to give a shout out to are Pacha and Brutus. They are puppies extraordinaire.

We couldn’t ask for better companions. They jauntily trot along with us no matter how cold it is. While I do think they might balk if we asked them to walk in unplowed snowfall (umm, who wouldn’t?), they reliably overcome their inevitable initial misgivings each and every day.

Yes, they adopt hangdog expressions and their body language broadcasts long, plaintive, “Noooooooo!”s when we suit them up with their harnesses and coats. But who can blame them? Almost inevitably, we’re waking them from cozy cuddling and snuggly slumber. It’s a harsh transition, I’ll admit. It is for us, too, to be honest.

Frozen Ground

The freezing temperatures have a big impact on our ability to blow off steam. And let me tell you, five month old puppies build up a lot of steam. (And yes, the chewing – oh my – probably warrants a whole post on its own.) Before the ground froze, we were still able to take a break and get outside in the late morning to play with toys. (I’m a sucker for ‘fetch’ – I’m in it for the long haul as long as they keep bringing it back to me!) But that joyful activity lost some of its appeal when they realized just how much it hurts to skid across the grass when the ground underneath no longer ‘gives.’ It only took a few yelps to squash their enthusiasm.

Which brings me back to the necessity of our walks, even if they are on the chilly side.

I’m pretty sure Sheila and Spartacus charged these pups with the sacred responsibility of keeping us moving. Or maybe it’s Karl who encourages them to be such great walkers. They sometimes conspire with one of his emissaries…

Definitely Plotting – Photo: L. Weikel

One thing all four of us agree on: it’s utterly delicious (and absolutely indulgent) to come home from a walk in the crisp winter air and snuggle in front of a fire. We’re incredibly fortunate and I’m so grateful for our lives together.

(T+35)