Mowing, planting, chasing dogs, watching the Giants
Before I mowed the lawn, I raked leaves. They have not begun to fall in earnest, but the beginning is here. Soon, all will be covered with yellow, brown and orange. Don't fall off your chairs: I really did mow the lawn. Once when I was in high school I mowed our burly lawn and decided then, "I don't do lawns." This is the second time for me, and it was kind of fun. Wayne was trimming the hedge, so I had company, and that always helps me complete a task. I've taken the wild approach, you know, weeds, flowers, shrubs all atangle with one another. Actually, I even like that. Now and then I fly at it with abandon and clean it all up, so it can start the process again. Here, the gophers gobble my bulbs, the dogs rip up everything else. So my yard must be flexible and resilient. I am flower gardening in large planters, and I love how this is turning out. Maybe I will just turn everything else into pathways. Lawns are silly water-wasters.
Yesterday, while I was waiting for the Giants to begin the baseball game, I was out in the front yard, re-arranging the big ceramic planters. Fix the screen door, or close the door, because the dogs are going to escape. I considered ignoring the voice, but realized I would be sorry for that dumb move, so I put a five gallon bucket full of rocks in front of the lame screen door, and went back to the planter. Crash! I turned to see two canine heads poking through the crack they had accomplished. NO! STOP! They made a joint decision to commit insubordination, using their combined weight of approx. 165lbs to burst open the door like the bucket of rocks was a pillow. LUNA, LOOK (she can't help herself, she always does), COME. NOW. Yes. You know the rest of this chapter: she looked me in the eye, and said sayonara, bye bye.
Dammit. Needless to say, I was beside myself, and when I came back into the house it was the 3rd inning. I picked up their leashes and talked out loud to myself. Fine, I said. Maybe they will never come home. I have to live without them. I hate dogs. Someone will take them home. No they won't. Luna won't go to anyone she doesn't know, unless they open the car door. Neither will Emerson unless they have food, of course. Or chickens. Oh god, what if they get into the neighbors poultry? Crap. Dammit. I called my dog trainer. Lord, I confess: what would I do without him? Can you believe he always calls me back, patiently. Tells me what/how/etc to do next. The Giants scored a few runs. I couldn't even keep up with them. I called Wayne.
Somewhere in the fretting and cussing, the neighbor shouted, They're over here, Laura! so I called them like nothing was going on, and they raced for the front door. Once inside, Emerson flopped on the floor to cool down. Luna wanted out to the backyard for water. They were exhausted, hot and filthy. My, what goes on in 20+ minutes in a dogs' life can be remarkable. Luna submerged her whole head in the water bucket. Four times.
The Giants won... 3-0. Yay. IF they win today, they're going to the World Series! For the first time in a few million years. Since the huge earthquake when The Giants and the Oakland A's were the World Series.
I love to watch baseball. My youngest son was a catcher through his childhood, through Little League. I love catchers. My Aunt Dorothy told me that my grandfather was a very good catcher. My brother was a catcher. My sister, too. Me? I am no good at throwing, though I have gotten much better as an adult. My daughter was famous for her sneaky and excellent base running. So. I love baseball.
Yesterday I posted a picture from the web, of Cody Ross, one of the outfielders for the Giants. He has emerged as a wild man, hitting home runs right when they really need them. My other favorite is the catcher (surprise), Buster Posey, who really really reminds me of my youngest.
Today they play again. I need to be calm and peaceful, as I am "on Platform" at the Wednesday Eve. service at our Center. I am plotting how I am going to meditate and focus on my reading, and listen to the ballgame. Haha. This is sounding ridiculously impossible. I will close the front door for starters.
Swallowtail Butterflies are fresh and new by the first of April. Larabee is a hidden valley created by the Eel River. Perhaps I have lived here since time began, a butterfly in the willows on the banks of a Northern river.