Saving the World

Yesterday was my day with Damian, which always provides me with a few stellar moments. Walking along the trail to the lake I was telling him that this spot used to be a party spot for locals, and to be careful as there was quite a bit of broken glass on the ground - which led to my search for "beach glass" to put in a container on my window ledge for the sun to shine through. I said "If I live long enough, I'll fill the jar up."


As we got to the spot, we began excitedly finding glass - mostly brown beer bottle glass, but the occasional green and some very rare and prized blue. We ended up with an unexpectedly good amount in our little bucket, and Damian said, "See? You will live long enough!"


It isnt beach glass, but it is colored glass - redneck-party-get-gooned-and-smash-everything glass. But it will do until the real thing comes along.


As the afternoon heated up, I retreated to sit in the shade of a bush. Damian called me over to see something and I said "I'm too tired and hot." He said, "Get over here! It's NAY-chur!!!!!" 


Cracked me right up - he had found teeny little plants under a rock, growing impossibly under and among the rocky surface.


There was much going back and forth with buckets of water and I noticed a plant that looked desperately in need of a drink. I suggested Damian pour a bucket on the roots. Told him how grateful the little bush must be for the unexpected drink. So then he  really got into it, and gave lots of little bushes drinks.


"I'm saving the world!" he crowed happily, as I thought to myself, yes, he definitely was, one small bush at a time. Kids are so great!

An Afternoon at the Lake

Jackson Pollock #5

Ella's prompt at Poets United's Thursday Think Tank features the controversial style of artist Jackson Pollock, who dripped paint from a can onto the canvas and often used grit and glass to make the work textured and "interesting". I have mixed feelings as to this form of art, as did many of his day. But this canvas spoke to me.

On a blue-green day,

puffy picture-book clouds

against a kindergarten-blue sky,

I show

another little boy

the wonder of 

an eagle's flight,

the beauty of

green against blue,

the joy of

water and sand -

lessons he will take

into adulthood:

nature, balm and blessing,

breath and beauty.

A Dog Called Jack and a Boy Called Damian

Here is my cutie-pie little great-grandson, Damian, who looks so much like my only granddaughter, and his mom, Ali. Damian and I spend Fridays together and he has had a crash course in getting over his fear of dogs, since I live with so many of them (four at last count!) Of course he knew Pup, too.

I remember when Damian was just weeks old, and he and Ali were visiting. She had laid the teeny baby on the futon in the back room to sleep and, in going down the hall, I chanced to look in and see Pup sitting staring at him, with his head cocked. He had never seen a human so small and was trying to puzzle it out. I brought him out of the room, thinking, after all, he is a wolf. I know he never would have hurt him, but still.........

Anyway, last night I started to read Damian a book called A Dog Called Jack. I had picked it up at the library, hadnt looked through it, it looked like a happy read...........as I read, though, the dog began growing old, I started to see where it was heading, tried to hold onto myself, kept reading, with my voice getting thicker and thicker. And then Jack died. OMG.

Damian said, "That is so sad. It makes me feel like crying right now." And I choked out, "It makes me....think of......Pup." and Damian and I exchanged a devastated tearful look. "Boo-hoo," I said, with a weak smile, and he nodded.

Yes, I still have my other dog, and yes, three others are a room away. And I hand out treats to all the dogs I know. And one day might like to have a puppy - a dog small enough to pick up, for a change.

But I could have a hundred dogs, and it still wouldnt fill the place that is Pup's alone. I still am stricken with sudden tears when I think about my boy.

However, it wasn't long before Damian cracked me right up. I am struggling with a bad perm right now, so my "hair" (more like a haystack) goes well with my cackle. It was perfect for Hallowe'en, I'd open the door and the kids would all scream. (Just kidding, no one even came, they were likely too scared. "A witch lives there! And about a hundred dogs!")  

I was telling Damian that Jas has to go to the groomer and that she doesnt like going. I told her, "You have to suffer to be beautiful, you know, as my mother always said." Then I reflected thoughtfully, "Hmmmm....I've suffered a lot, and I didn't get beautiful." Damian said honestly and sympathetically, "No, you didn't."

Did I ever laugh!

L'il Timbit

Great-grandson Damian, all geared up. He'll soon be joining

the Timbits hockey team. Only in Canada, eh?

So cute!

It's The Big Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!

This is my great-grandson, Damian, age four, sitting atop his big pumpkin! All excited about Hallowe'en.

"No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!!!!!! Don't do it!!"

Here he is when he was younger, adorably outfitted for his first Hallwe'en:

Way too cute!

And proudly atop Beau, when he lived out at the farm:

Why do babies grow so fast? Babyhood is my favorite stage! We need another baby in this family! (hint, hint!)

If you want to get in the Hallowe'en mood, click on the link below and take a peek at the most amazing carved pumpkins ever - they are works of art. The site is cool too - bats flying out of his header. (How does he DO that??? I want bats! Or, at least, birds.)

http://www.wix.com/tamzzzz/rays_pumpkins

Miss Jasmine has passed her first 24 hours after surgery. She is having a hard time hobbling, and managing the ramp out front is a difficulty. But one day at a time, we are moving through it, and it will get better. I made the vet laugh by telling her that dealing with it is better than thinking about it was, as is the case with life, in general. It is all in the Doing, kids!

Happy pumpkins to one and all!