
It was time to plant the front-porch pots yesterday.
I chose a mix of grapey purples with a bit of honey thrown in.
Clover has been learning to be in the front yard, which is not fenced. She starts off on a long, 30-foot lead.
The idea is that, on this lead, she is free to wander about the property, but we are supposed to correct her from afar when she crosses the boundaries.
In four days, we haven't had an opportunity to to correct anything since she pretty much sticks to us like glitter.
We should probably ask our doggie tutor Steve about that.
Why so pensive, little pansy?
She has a heart of gold and is so sweet and generous, so much like her auntie. So much like her.
It's hard to take photos of black-and-white dogs, I must say. It's hard to get the detail in both those colors to come out well. And you need the eyes, most of all. Sometimes you're lucky and you get the tongue, too.
I have so scored in this marriage: I pick out the plants, arrange them where I want them to go, and then take pictures while Andy Paulson cheerfully plants them all for me. Every year.
I don't enjoy planting things. I enjoy picking them out, arranging them, I'm getting better at watering them, but I don't love the actual stuffing them into a pot or the ground. Andy likes that part, not the picking them out or the thinking about what to get in the first place.
They should have questions like that on Match.com. "Do you like picking pansies out or planting them?" and if you both say "picking them," keep looking. Or know that you'll need to hire a lawn service.
Andy Paulson, while sensitive and literate, also brings considerable brawn to the relationship.
Mmmmwah.
Puppy loves her daddy most of all.
My cup runneth over. xoxo
Two days in the park, and it was wonderful. Just what we needed after this long, long winter. Friday it was 70 degrees, Saturday 75. Perfect, perfect weather. We scored our favorite spot in the Rose Garden on Friday after going to Powell's, where we bought fourteen books (we really did buy fourteen books). There was a quilt in the dog's crate in the car so, with stacks of books as pillows, we read for several hours in dappled sunlight under blooming trees. I'll show you the books I got tomorrow. I already finished one of them. That was a great feeling.
Saturday we'd planned to go out to opening day on the farm with Clover Meadow, but it turned out we weren't that ambitious. Instead we just got some sandwiches and cupcakes downtown, and headed back up to the park for the day, this time with a puppy in tow.
Clover is such a good dog. It was really her first big day out, a long day, which included puppy school (she is starting to learn her [20 minute] off-leash stay, and will start off-leash training in the front yard this week), a very crowded downtown farmer's market (did you know they sell homemade organic vanilla pudding there? OMG), and close to four hours of park lounging (studded with a few long walks around the roses). She sat and watched it all, fairly quietly, nibbling and spitting out pine cones, trying very hard not to jump on anyone who came to say hi, mostly just watching the world go by on a beautiful day. She is awesome.
So is Cupcake Jones. This is the Vanilla Pearl. It is basically amazing. It is white velvet cake, with vanilla pastry cream inside, and vanilla buttercream icing. For a vanilla lover like me, it's truly the perfect cupcake.
Isn't she pretty? We had such a good day. I felt like Audrey was there with us, too.
There was some resting over the weekend.
It's a busy week around here, so I'll be taking a bit of a break while I get orders out, look at the book one last time, do our taxes, and possible even get a little rest. We have this dog that would like nothing more than to sit on a warm lap all the livelong day.
Guess where she learned that one.
This season feels like sort of an interlude. Spring comes slowly, in a way — it's green but cold; it's sunny but muddy; it's lighter out later, but we're still not outside. All around town big clumps of daffodils cheer me, and I plan, once again, to plant some in September. Why don't I ever do that? Eight years in this house, and the only bulbs I've planted were a few pink tulips, in the wrong place, later to be replaced with candytuft and sweet woodruff. But this year we have a fence, and I have visions of little, nodding drifts of pale yellow greeting me on the house-side of the pickets, so I must make a note to myself to remember how pretty these daffodils look right now, and do it right this fall.
I did get a daffodil-yellow spring coat this year (from the Gap; the umbrella is very old, from sadly now-gone Daisy Kingdom) that is making me happy. I'm ready for my dogwalk. Our girl Clover Meadow has gotten so big; I'm hoping we'll get out today and I'll take her picture. Last night her boyfriend Bennie came over for a playdate. They romped, a small tornado, through the house for fifteen minutes until Bennie found a bone that he liked better than he liked Clover. Clover was flabbergasted. She did everything she could to get his attention, including clambering on top of him, then lying four feet away and barking in his face (this dog has the loudest bark I have ever heard), then just looking with total bewilderment at us — what was this guy's problem? Couldn't we see? Bones are boring! Sigh.
Today we'll take a walk and see what's blooming; the magnolias are starting to unfurl as the daffodils turn crepe-y and gold. I hope we can get into the woods this weekend. There's so much to do all the time that we forget to go, or it's pouring rain on Sunday, or who knows what. Before I can rub my eyes and blink in wonder a whole season has lapsed and I've only been around the block a few dozen times. But I'd like to go out and see some little snowdrops, wild violets, maybe find a four-leaf clover. I'd like to get out of the neighborhood a little bit.
A room of one's own. What is it about one's own room that is so seductive? And a whole little house? Oooooh, little houses. So adorable. I want this one. I love it so much! Mmmmmwah. Love you. This photo is from Summerwood Products, who designs beautiful little sheds and cabanas and all manor of delightfully diminutive dwellings.
Alas, such a human-size beauty is not in the Paulson budget (though I might start saving for one). But I think we could swing a corgi-sized pad. At Western Pet Supply, where we went on Saturday afternoon, they had several different sizes of prefab but very roughly finished dog houses for under $100, I think — I don't see any pictures of them on their web site, but they're very cute, though very rough. Absolutely begging to be painted or shingled or something. It has never occured to me to get the dog her own dog house before. I don't know why, because she really loves her crate. I think she would love a little housey, for when we're all outside in the yard this summer.
Thanks for the links yesterday! I love those Tumbleweed houses and the tree houses. I found this photo and article about building dog houses inspired by your own house from the This Old House web site this morning, and it's really cute with lots of good ideas (and some dog-house history). I don't think I'm up for building one from scratch, but I think I could easily swing decorating a prefab one. I'm wondering: Do other animals (possums, raccoons) tend to move in to dog houses? We have all manner of urban critters in our neighborhood. I can just see an entire clan of 'coons settling onto our property, huddling up in our pooch's shingle-sided condo.
Did you see it, there at 0:24 in the video yesterday? A latch-hook pillow designed, hooked, and stitched by Andy Paulson (whose latch-hooking phase you might remember from last winter). This pillow is a present for our little graduate (doesn't this look like a senior portrait?).
Yes, she has a 4.0 in bone-chewing and pretty-looking. Valedictorian and homecoming queen in a class of one.
We requested a speech but she declined. An occasionally subtle communicator, she insisted that one look said it all ["You peeps are cracked"].
Uh oh.
My cute meter just exploded.
Did you know that Andy and his sister, Jen, an incredibly talented musician and accomplished violist, have a band called the Cavie Creek Scramblers? No, neither did I! In December, Andy went to Chicago for a few days and, sitting in the waiting room while Jen was at the dentist, he wrote a very cool song about the fair called "County Fair." Jen had just gotten a banjo, so she is playing it here. Andy is singing. I seriously don't know how these guys do it, so I wish I could offer you more information about how one writes a song, and the music, and then records it. But I have no idea. I just walk by occasionally and he hands me some earphones and says, "Wanna hear what me and Jen did?" I know: No big deal, we just, you know, wrote a song. It's flabbergasting, such nonchalance!
On Sunday he set the song to this video of Misses Clover and Dolly, our friends Elizabeth and Stacy's golden retriever puppers who is the exact same age as Clover. I love this, especially when they take turns sitting on each others' heads.
I'll see if I can get Andy to send me the lyrics. They're too good. Oh, and you will get a sneak peak at the present Andy made for Clover in there, too. See if you can tell what it is. :-)
Okay, got the lyrics:
County Fair
Well, there's a little place down south of here
It's not too far and not too near
It's called the fair.The kids'll take their cavies, sheep,
And goats and judge them
By the color of their hair.The mamas and the wives and sisters,
knitting needles, pies, and scissors,
Show off their crafts.The men will meet the grocery
Butchers, sell off all their livestock
Mostly cows and calves (eww).(Refrain:) Let's go to the county fair
Oh, we're almost there.
Sittin' on a folding chair,
Cowboy hat on if you dare.
Even though we're from the city
The locals don't treat us bad.
The cows and horses look so pretty
Even the drive makes me giddy!(We always) say we're gonna sign up
For the 4-H leaders line-up,
But we never do.We'll eat some curly fries, we'll play
Some games, I'll win a prize
Or maybe three or two.That Country/Western singer
On the stage is a dead ringer
For old Bill Monroe.Maybe we'll get up and dance
Depending on the circumstance
If he plays nice and slow.(Refrain)
Tonight we'll hit the round-up,
Bleachers measure from the ground up
Only twenty feet.We're so close to the broncs
It's, frankly, totally redonk.
The view just can't be beat.My favorite part is the penning, cowboys
Mounted, up and running,
Shouting loud and clearAt the cattle with their numbers,
Horses hooves as loud as thunder,
Almost spilled my beer (that's okay).(Refrain)
Last Sunday, we went to Goodwill for the first time in months. I was psyched to find this "quilt." The patches are printed, but I love it. Perfect for the picnic to which I'll wear my smocked skirt.
But we'll have to wait until summer, which seems soooooo far away, even though the weather has been nice here, I must say. This doggie barely even knows what summer is!
I know, baby. Someday.