Hanging out on a windy day

 ... trying on Inuit sunglasses in Rebecca's office ...

I woke this morning to a quiet house. Rebecca left to fly to Ottawa at 5 am. That leaves this quiet house of men who all value their Saturday morning rest. The dog wanted to go outside, but when I called for her to come back in, there was no sign of her. I hung my head over the back balcony and I could see the basement door was open. I wondered if she had gone into the basement through the back door and left the basement through the front door. It is possible for one or both of them to be open at the same time, depending on which of the men has come and gone. There is no use for me to go outside and search for a dog who isn’t accustomed to coming when I call.

She did have a break-away moment a few months ago when Steve tried to take her to have her poodle trim.  This isn’t her idea of a good time.  She bolted before he got the leash on her and she was no where to be found.  She didn’t come when called.  He drove around looking for her and finally phoned Rebecca to say he had taken the dog out, but wouldn’t be bringing her back for she was utterly and absolutely gone.  She arrived home on her own – she must have good homing instincts.  They wouldn’t have known it was ion her.

I heard some dull thuds at the front door later and thought to myself that it is too much to believe she was trying to get back in the house. When I opened the door I could see I was wrong. This is a dog who knows how to knock.

She lays on the top of the couch for most of the day or langourisly spread from the top of a cushion down to the bottom of it, her nose and face semi-propped, looking out the window. A true watch dog, barking if a chipmunk runs up a tree or if there are a pair of deer on the neighbours lawn.

Duncan and I sorted the recycling today: paper, plastic and glass, not a big job, but not a sought after job. He told me that he likes to do it late in the evening. I suggested that if he does it then, it will give his dad many chances throughout the day to keep reminding him to do it. Why not do it now and save Steve all of the trouble. That seemed like a workable idea to Duncan. The sorting is done down in the “man cave”, a place where set up with a TV and controllers for communal gaming and a weight station. I looked to find a weight I could use, choosing the lightest of what they have. I could get out a few arm curls, but there is no way I could lift the weight in both arms so that I looked like a “T”. Some work to do there if I want to get some control out of the muscles.

John Borrows is letting me read his Craddock Lecture, which Mary heard in Ottawa, and his paper entitled Entitlement Territories which I heard him give here. I paused for part of the afternoon to reflect on his thesis and his writing style – dense with Anishinaabe spiritual thought, his respect for the animate and inanimate objects of the earth running through, beneath and around the other ideas he presents. A lovely afternoon, though no afternoon without Rebecca here can ever be completely perfect.

Arta