Rosie ran away this morning.
We were out on one of her little useless trips outside, the ones where she acts like she has to pee but really she just wants to go outside and sniff at the places where the skunk dug up the lawn. Last night she got skunked, ever so slightly, which sent us into panic mode as: A) it was her first, and B) we have a wedding/vacation to go to this weekend, and we're bringing her along, 'cause it'll also be a dog party. I washed her with dishsoap so only her muzzle smells now.
So we're walking up the road, and I see Cleo, the neighbor's very nice dog, hanging out by our laneway. I let Rosie go up and say hi. They ran around and around in circles, and played a bit, and I thought "they're not going far, and it's early, so I'll just let Rosie off the leash". This after having been dragged over a ditch and having my arm pulled out of its socket about 3 times. I unclipped her. They ran around and around and into the woods. I called Rosie and she came flying back at me, grazing me, and flew back into the woods. I let her run around a bit, then called her again, and again she came flying back at me. But then she ran in the other direction. Up near the other neighbors' place.
The other neighbors are mysterious to us. We never see them - I had never met the wife, and we've lived here 61/2 years. They're very German, and have nasty German shepherd dogs with names like "Hagar" and "Rex" and "Chonga". The dogs are not friendly and they're enormous. When I saw Rosie run off in that direction, I panicked, as last night we had a near-dark encounter with Hagar, who displayed his not-so-friendly side while off his leash.
She went bounding off into the woods in their direction. I called and called - nothing. I called until I was hoarse. Nothing. My nice neighbor the blacksmith called his dog, Cleo, and she returned, but no Rosie . We both called. I went in and woke up hubby, who came bounding out of the house in his jacket, sneakers and underwear. We both called. Hubby went crashing into the woods, and got so far that I could only hear his shouts faintly. Nothing. No movement in the woods, no barking, no whimpering.
My mind raced to all scenarios: She'd gotten down to the highway. She'd followed a bear. She'd eaten something dangerous. She'd upset someone. She'd gotten kicked or attacked by an animal. She'd gotten into a porcupine. She was lost.
All those things raced through my head. I had a chalky mouth and felt weak, and almost threw up. I called my mom because I didn't know what else to do, and she came over and called her as well. Finally we heard one bark that was unmistakeably hers. I chilled out a bit, as at least she was alive and didn't sound too far away. Then another bark. We all ran towards the sound from different directions - hubby still in the woods in his underwear. It was coming from the direction of the mysterious neighbors' house, so I screwed up my courage and went up their laneway. I heard "hullo!?" and there he was - and his wife! He said "watch out, there's a bear beside the house." I explained that I had lost my dog and heard her barks coming from the direction of their yard, and he said "she's probably got the bear." He had gloves on and had called the wildlife service. Then I hear hubby shouting "I HAVE HER". Turns out, she'd gotten caught in one of the neighbor's live traps, which he uses for trapping raccoons. My dog is very black and medium-sized, and he'd thought he'd seen a bear in the trap so called the wildlife service. Misunderstandings all around, and Rosie was humbled, but fine. We rejoiced.
So the things I learned this morning are:
1. Rosie will come when called, unless she's stuck in a trap.
2. The neighbors, who we've spent 6.5 years giving sidelong glances to, are actually quite nice and have a beautiful garden hidden beside their house.
3. The neighbors have traps set all over their yard.
4. There is a bear that lives near their house, which they see often.
5. There is a dude living in the woods beside our house. Hubby was walking a trail up there and heard "hullo?" but he didn't see ANYTHING. He looked around. He said "I was on the trail but the guy was in the woods, and I could NOT see him." So that's a bit freaky.
All in all, that was a lot of action for early morning. Now we're off to a wedding!
Updated to add: hubby clarified for me later that when he found Rosie, she was just sitting there cheerfully, in the cage, wagging her tail. He actually said "I wish I had a photo of exactly that image, because it was so damn cute." Our guess is that she's so used to being in her crate that she figured she was in a new outdoors crate, and just settled in.
Also, we were told that that night was the year's first killing frost, and that the dude in the woods was probably harvesting, ahem, some of his crops. Makes sense, and explains his terse tone. So phew, no dude living in the woods.
9/8/08
Renovations, part one million.
Did you forget that I am renovating my house?
Well technically, my dad is renovating my house. As we speak. He has been a superhero in terms of coming over when we're at work and plugging away at the G-D siding. We absconded with my brother's super-saw back in June and now he needs it back, so we're hustling. I say "we" but really it's "he". I work at it whenever I'm home but these days that's pretty rare.
It's coming along. We've been held up by a lazy electrician, but we're slogging away at the 'easy' wall. I say 'easy' because back when we started, we were all like "and then when we get to that wall, it'll be all fwoop fwoop fwoop super easy." But it has turned out to be a lot of fwoop fwoop, and a LOT of painting. We have used up the 10 foot, 11 foot, and now 12 foot boards, so we're working with 13-footers and having to cut them off.
We still have to:
- Finish the 'easy' wall
- have a light installed and the anchor replaced
- styrofoam the angled wall
- strapping on the angled wall
- styrofoam the long straight wall (4 feet wide)
- strap the long wall
- do the siding on both of these walls
- facia boards all around the house
- Remove the siding from the top three angled weird walls up high
- paint 4 windowframes dark red
- do the styrofoam, strapping, and subsequent siding on these three walls
- caulk the entire thing (we will hire someone for this).
The project became a two-year project, and we're now realizing that it'll be three years before we get all of this done, plus the new deck which was supposed to happen this fall. Part of it still may, depending on energy levels. We may leave the last 4 items on the list for next year, along with the sofit and eavestroughing we'll have to invest in.
(sigh).
Basically, we have completely rebuilt this shoddy house. I'd post pictures but it's frankly too depressing.
Well technically, my dad is renovating my house. As we speak. He has been a superhero in terms of coming over when we're at work and plugging away at the G-D siding. We absconded with my brother's super-saw back in June and now he needs it back, so we're hustling. I say "we" but really it's "he". I work at it whenever I'm home but these days that's pretty rare.
It's coming along. We've been held up by a lazy electrician, but we're slogging away at the 'easy' wall. I say 'easy' because back when we started, we were all like "and then when we get to that wall, it'll be all fwoop fwoop fwoop super easy." But it has turned out to be a lot of fwoop fwoop, and a LOT of painting. We have used up the 10 foot, 11 foot, and now 12 foot boards, so we're working with 13-footers and having to cut them off.
We still have to:
- Finish the 'easy' wall
- have a light installed and the anchor replaced
- styrofoam the angled wall
- strapping on the angled wall
- styrofoam the long straight wall (4 feet wide)
- strap the long wall
- do the siding on both of these walls
- facia boards all around the house
- Remove the siding from the top three angled weird walls up high
- paint 4 windowframes dark red
- do the styrofoam, strapping, and subsequent siding on these three walls
- caulk the entire thing (we will hire someone for this).
The project became a two-year project, and we're now realizing that it'll be three years before we get all of this done, plus the new deck which was supposed to happen this fall. Part of it still may, depending on energy levels. We may leave the last 4 items on the list for next year, along with the sofit and eavestroughing we'll have to invest in.
(sigh).
Basically, we have completely rebuilt this shoddy house. I'd post pictures but it's frankly too depressing.
9/2/08
In defense of the "stay-cation"
I will agree that it is an irritating catchphrase.
This morning I read an article in 'Salon' deriding the term 'stay-cation' and the people who decide to stay close to home on their time off work.
In defense of the concept (if not the term), the stay-cation has always been my preferred use of time off. This for many reasons: it's cheaper, it's less stressful, it' beautiful, and I get to catch up on the things that I never have time for when I'm at work, at my own pace. It always drives me nuts when people at work say "how was your week off? Did you go anywhere?" I guess I'm guilty of asking the same question, but the answer I get is usually 'yes', whereas I always just say "nope!"
We do go on vacations sometimes; in the past six years we've been to the following places together on our time off:
- a road trip to Halifax for a wedding
- honeymoon in Fernie BC
- various camping trips
- road trip to a cottage in southern Ontario, 9 hours away
- two road trips to cottages in southern Ontario, 3 hours away
- a two-week trip to France, Germany and Austria
- a week in BC this past April.
We had a lot of fun on most of these trips. We travel well together, my hubby and I, and we generally have a good time when we're on the road. However when we get back I am always presented with the same problems: the work that I usually do while I'm home piles up and still has to be done, then the credit card bill has to be paid, and within a week the effects of the vacation have worn off and I'm back to my old routine. I will grant you that I'm still feeling the effects of the trip to Europe, which we took almost two years ago, but for the most part, I usually come home wondering why I left in the first place.
Not to mention that if we leave, we have to figure out what to do with the pets, which I always find stressful.
When I stay home for vacation, I wake up late, lazily make coffee, feed the animals, sit on my deck and watch the birds and bugs in the garden, then pick away at my daily tasks as I see fit. Some days I work like a sonofagun, so that at the end of the day I'm totally exhausted but feel like a million bucks, but some days I go shopping, make food, putz around the garden, spend quality time with the hammock - you get the picture. By the time I go back to work I'm satisfied that things are taken care of on the home front.
When we're on holiday it's generally go go go - there's a pressure to take in as much as possible and not waste your time (and money). The search for quality experiences puts an invisible gun to my head every time, so I feel like I have to fill every hour with some sort of genuine local-flavour-filled encounter.
Another factor in my defense of the stay-cation is that I am generally satisfied where I am. There are people out there who really get a kick out of travelling to new places and seeking thrilling experiences. I am not one of them. Don't get me wrong: some of my favourite moments were pulling off the highway somewhere in Austria to explore a deserted castle on a mountaintop, or driving through the 'desert' near Otterlo, in the Netherlands with my grandmother and her sister, or hiking the lizard's back trail in Fernie BC, or trying foie gras for the first time at a bistro in Paris. It's just that I love my home so much, love my community so much, that I take great pleasure in exploring the areas around me. I can spend hours looking at weeds. I can hike the same trails over and over and always find something new to look at. I can go into my town and catch up with old friends at the grocery store. I can walk the dog and meet new neighbors. I can share my home with friends, like we did the other night when we inadvertently served a 'local' dinner made of fresh-caught perch, home-grown potatoes and basil and tomatoes. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm really into the intensity of a local experience, to immersing myself in my community and my environment rather than striking out into foreign territory. It doesn't hurt that I live in what I consider one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I can't see my neighbors from my deck.
Also I'm afraid of planes.
This morning I read an article in 'Salon' deriding the term 'stay-cation' and the people who decide to stay close to home on their time off work.
In defense of the concept (if not the term), the stay-cation has always been my preferred use of time off. This for many reasons: it's cheaper, it's less stressful, it' beautiful, and I get to catch up on the things that I never have time for when I'm at work, at my own pace. It always drives me nuts when people at work say "how was your week off? Did you go anywhere?" I guess I'm guilty of asking the same question, but the answer I get is usually 'yes', whereas I always just say "nope!"
We do go on vacations sometimes; in the past six years we've been to the following places together on our time off:
- a road trip to Halifax for a wedding
- honeymoon in Fernie BC
- various camping trips
- road trip to a cottage in southern Ontario, 9 hours away
- two road trips to cottages in southern Ontario, 3 hours away
- a two-week trip to France, Germany and Austria
- a week in BC this past April.
We had a lot of fun on most of these trips. We travel well together, my hubby and I, and we generally have a good time when we're on the road. However when we get back I am always presented with the same problems: the work that I usually do while I'm home piles up and still has to be done, then the credit card bill has to be paid, and within a week the effects of the vacation have worn off and I'm back to my old routine. I will grant you that I'm still feeling the effects of the trip to Europe, which we took almost two years ago, but for the most part, I usually come home wondering why I left in the first place.
Not to mention that if we leave, we have to figure out what to do with the pets, which I always find stressful.
When I stay home for vacation, I wake up late, lazily make coffee, feed the animals, sit on my deck and watch the birds and bugs in the garden, then pick away at my daily tasks as I see fit. Some days I work like a sonofagun, so that at the end of the day I'm totally exhausted but feel like a million bucks, but some days I go shopping, make food, putz around the garden, spend quality time with the hammock - you get the picture. By the time I go back to work I'm satisfied that things are taken care of on the home front.
When we're on holiday it's generally go go go - there's a pressure to take in as much as possible and not waste your time (and money). The search for quality experiences puts an invisible gun to my head every time, so I feel like I have to fill every hour with some sort of genuine local-flavour-filled encounter.
Another factor in my defense of the stay-cation is that I am generally satisfied where I am. There are people out there who really get a kick out of travelling to new places and seeking thrilling experiences. I am not one of them. Don't get me wrong: some of my favourite moments were pulling off the highway somewhere in Austria to explore a deserted castle on a mountaintop, or driving through the 'desert' near Otterlo, in the Netherlands with my grandmother and her sister, or hiking the lizard's back trail in Fernie BC, or trying foie gras for the first time at a bistro in Paris. It's just that I love my home so much, love my community so much, that I take great pleasure in exploring the areas around me. I can spend hours looking at weeds. I can hike the same trails over and over and always find something new to look at. I can go into my town and catch up with old friends at the grocery store. I can walk the dog and meet new neighbors. I can share my home with friends, like we did the other night when we inadvertently served a 'local' dinner made of fresh-caught perch, home-grown potatoes and basil and tomatoes. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm really into the intensity of a local experience, to immersing myself in my community and my environment rather than striking out into foreign territory. It doesn't hurt that I live in what I consider one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I can't see my neighbors from my deck.
Also I'm afraid of planes.
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