Lola's Anniversary and National Beagle Day

Eight years ago today, Lola came to live with us--a better anniversary than the last one I mentioned. We had six years of love with her. 

Today is also Earth Day and National Beagle Day. So, Lola (and Jace and Spike) we salute you. 

The Mets Are Looking...

Good! 

I didn't expect to be writing that; it seemed unlikely since their dismal start. In Atlanta, they won two of three. In the game they lost, they came back, but couldn't complete the deal losing 5-6.

Tonight, they beat the "red hot"--previously undefeated--Kansas City Royals winning 6-1.

LGM!

Remembering Lola

Two years ago today, we said goodbye to Lola. We miss her. 

It breaks my heart to think about her life before she joined Jeff and me at around age 5. She had clearly been abused but knew only love with us. Okay, full disclosure: I once smacked her with a manilla file folder. She had been peacefully sleeping while I wrapped Christmas presents. Suddenly she got up and started chewing my wrapping paper. Chewing miscellaneous things was her biggest fault. 

Here are some photos of our sweet girl. 

We love you, Lola.

Creative Block

I've been disappointed with myself over my lack of writing. I had recently started journaling more frequently. I hoped that would jump start some writing for me. 

On Sunday, I sat down in front of the computer to write about Sylvanus Merwin. I had started a new chapter about a month ago but couldn't open the file. I wasted at least an hour trying to figure out what to do. Finally, I gave up. The file was about 200-300 words, so it wasn't that great a loss. But since it had been a month, I had to go back to my notes and then pulled out two books to check a few things. Needless to say, I didn't get much written. But I can't let up.

It's not just the writing. Lately, I've been reviewing some copies of Art Journaling. Yet I can't seem to get myself to bring out my art materials. I'm too tired, or I don't know where to start, or it's too messy. You get the picture.

I just have to give myself permission to write and make art, and then do it. 

First Week in April

It was a bleak, rainy, and cold week--not what I wanted for the first week in April. We even had an earthquake in the area (New Jersey.) When the sun peeked out on Thursday, it was the first time I'd seen it since Easter Sunday. I'm sick of wearing a sweatshirt, a hat, and a pair of gloves on walks with Jace. At least, we've got two nice days coming up. I need to focus on them.

The Mets play reflects the crappy weather. They lost their first five--swept by the Brewers, before notching a win in the finale against the Detroit Tigers. They did win their series against the Reds. Now onto Atlanta, and that's scary. I have no idea what to expect from the Mets this year. Let's just say, they're always surprising.

Our taxes are done, and we're due to get about $3000 back. I signed off on the paperwork on Monday and returned with Jace to Danbury dog park. I love to watch him run around. We'll go to Rowayton dog park after it dries out a bit. Maybe next weekend. 

New Bird Photos

 

This is the new barred owl at the New Canaan Nature Center. This it the first time I've seen him on this perch. He still hasn't been named. I thought of Jem tonight. I'll have to share it. 

This is Phoenix a red-tailed hawk. He was in a separate aviary for months. It's nice that he is finally in the main aviary. Now, we don't have to shlep to the other aviary with a bucket of water and his food. More importantly, visitors can now see him with the other birds. 

Book Five: Harvest Home by Thomas Tryon

I got up this morning and decided to read. I take a medication on Monday morning and can't eat or drink anything or lie down for a half hour afterward. I recently realized I'm reading too much on my phone instead of reading books. Five books for the first quarter of the year isn't a good rate with a goal of reading 40 books, but I'm not going to sweat it. 

Anyway, back to Harvest Home: I picked up the book because I remember liking the TV mini-series starring Bette Davis back in 1978. I have mixed feelings about the book. The story was a slow moving one. I'm okay with that, but don't think it was necessary to read so much detail about Beth's childhood. But the last hundred pages or so were compelling. I finished the book as I ate lunch.

Then there's the writing. Some language is very florid--I often had to re-read a line or two. I also had to look up words several times. Tryon lost me with something to the effect of breasts straining against the woman's blouse--it's such a cliche. It reminds me of the dangerous amounts of leg and breast in some early Preston & Child books. 

The story itself was good enough to outweigh the annoying writing style.