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Need a Break?

On a recent fishing trip in southern Missouri, a cloudy afternoon brought several hours of rain, and by rain I mean a monsoon, which left deep puddles of water everywhere on the ground while raindrops the size of teacups dripped from leaves.

I picked my way across the ground to avoid any ankle deep mini-ponds, before looking up to notice the above pictured sight. An enormous tree was filled with turkey buzzards (several flew away before I could snap this picture). Each big old bird sat on a branch, motionless and silent, with wings spread wide to dry.

Can't you just totally relate to these guys? After being pummeled by a storm, when clouds clear, they shake off the whirlwind to welcome back the sun.

If you're like me you've been doing way too much in the dog days of summer, forever trying to cram in just one more thing. Maybe it's time to take a lesson from our feathered friends.

Sit back for a moment. Relax and recharge.

Even the most powerful wings need a break to stay strong.

What's the Deal?

Yesterday, Winston went back to puppy day care for the first time since before the whole gimpy-leg thing happened two months ago.

He was hopping up and down, excited as a kid heading for the swimming pool on a 100 degree day. Tail wagging, he pulled me toward the door, eager to see his pals. He was happy. I was happy.

I picked Winston up about 5 hours later. He immediately fell asleep. That's what I love about day care. A tired puppy is a good puppy.

We got home, and as soon as I sat down, Winston upchucked all over the floor.

Do you think he and his pals may have over-celebrated?

A Extraordinary Day

Yesterday I attended the All Write Conference in Cape Girardeau, Missouri with several members of my critique group, Donna, Sarah, Jane, Marcia, Doyle, Les, and Janet. I feel so fortunate to be a part of this talented group.

My absence gave Winston the chance for his first road trip. Son and DIL took him with them to Perryville, where he assisted by barking at any people who came to view the house they are trying to sell. Winston is great at unwanted snoopervision.

I'm king of everybody's castle!

Attending the conference was well worth the two hour drive. The speakers were excellent, hearing comments from panelists about "the slush pile" made me rethink some things, and the food was scrumptious.

Talking to fellow writers is always a special treat. My friend, Sioux, won a prize for best elevator pitch. I won't repeat it here (this blog is G-rated), but it sure caught the eye of the agent who heard it. Fellow critique members Jane, Marcia, and Janet all won prizes in writing contests. I got lucky and won first place in the essay contest. What a thrill!

Meanwhile several of my buddies and I pitched novels to agents and/or publishing companies. Each writer got five minutes to "sell" their novel. I pitched to an agent and a publisher, and must admit my hands were sweating both times. What a relief when they each said they liked the idea and wanted me to send the manuscript for them to read. Of course, that's not a guarantee of anything, but at least I did it. Now I want a T-shirt that says: I Survived My First Pitch Session.

All in all, an extraordinary day.

Even my sweet little grand-baby had fun on Saturday. He went with mommy and daddy on his first boat ride.

Little Chubs has quite a beach body, doesn't he?

Surveying the lake with Daddy.

What a great day we had! Hope your Saturday turned out to be just as special.

The Good Old Days

Yesterday Winston had his third follow-up visit post-surgery. The vet says he's doing well, but told me I should still keep him on leash or crated except when I'm able to closely supervise him.

Oops. He's been off leash since the first week after surgery, with me scrambling around to keep him under control. Hopefully I can keep Winston from self-destruction over another fourteen days because that's when we have our (hopefully) final appointment. The vet says if everything looks good, Winston will be taken off restriction.

Winston, of course, doesn't feel he should ever have been on any sort restriction at all, and is offended over my helicopter pet parent ways.

What do you mean, we can't wrestle?

I think this poor puppy has given up on ever being allowed to have fun again. He hasn't gone to puppy day care, been in a training class, or strolled through delicious goose poop in more than a month.

Geez, Mom, whatever happened to the good old days?

My New Prescription

My mother always told me that time flies by faster than an eye blink. The older I get, the more I realize she was exactly right.

I've been caught up in a big project for which I have a short timeline. Back in 2011, I did a NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) project, and since my retirement in August I've been playing around with actually finishing it. Well, I was playing around. For the past month or so, I've been pushing hard to get it done. My first draft is now complete, timelines have been checked (its an historical novel--though not, I hope, an hysterical one) and now I'm polishing and layering. I've even found an editor who I think will be a perfect fit for me.

The bad news is nothing much else is being accomplished. I'm not writing essays or short stories. House projects have come to a halt. I can't remember the last time I turned on the vacuum cleaner.

Winston, however, refuses to be ignored. He barks incessantly until he gets the attention he wants, which is quite distracting when I'm trying to concentrate. So how do I entertain him? This puzzle is one of my many efforts, though it didn't take long for him to figure it out. Yep, he can now solve the puzzle in under a minute and gobble all the delicious hidden treats.

On the bright side, his bandages are off and we have graduated from wearing the cone of shame or an inner-tube around the neck. However, his leg looks quite pitiful, and strongly resembles a chicken drumstick.

The vet says I'm still supposed to keep him from running or jumping. When I whined about those instructions, he gave me a wonderful prescription.

Tranquilizers for Winston and a couple of stiff drinks for me.

Give Me a Break!

A puppy needs excitement. A puppy needs adventure. A puppy needs to chase a ball 3.5 million times a day.

Guess who's been trained to be obedient to commands? (Clue: I'm not talking about the puppy)