Gracious Isabel

Here's another reason why our dog is great:

We got her a new bed today, a special Sealy posturepedic model for the aging pooch. (Ok, so it was a bit of a splurge, but her birthday is Tuesday. She'll be nine.) When we brought it home and showed her, she was polite enough to roll right on it and then lie down and stretch out with a comfortable sigh.

Now that's gratitude!

Happy Birthday Cupcake

 Tomorrow I'm going card shopping. From July 12 to July 17 we have seven birthdays.

I know that some people despise the greeting card industry. I get it-- set aside all those holidays they have ginned up for their own profit, there's a whole raft of people making their living by basically telling us what we are feeling so that we can send our sentiments to others without taking the time to write them ourselves. (Seriously--who has time for that, right?)

Oh, but I have a soft spot in my heart for the greeting card aisle. Sometimes, those hacks can really put their finger on some string of your relationship that you may or may not have overlooked. Who cares if they are sitting in a cubicle in Nebraska throwing wadded paper at each other? If it's funny, I laugh, and if it fits, I send it. Har, har, har.

Summer Time Zone

During the school year I find that I don't always sleep well. It's usually an early wake-up and trouble falling back to sleep-- too many things on my mind make it hard to drift back off. For a while I thought it might be my age; I took an herbal supplement, and I'd like to say it helped, but I'm not so sure.

We busted out of here the day after school ended to spend two weeks in Maine, and I forgot my supplement the whole time we were there. I also slept fine. Once we were back and there were a few things I needed to get up for, I woke up again in the middle of the night. Call me Sigmund, but that seems pretty psychological to me.

It makes me wonder about internal clocks and every day anxiety. Left to my own devices, I wake up between 7:30 and 8. I eat a few small meals throughout the day and am ready for dinner between 7:30 and 8 at night. It's easy to lose track of the time between the pool, the kitchen, the computer, and the conversation, but Heidi is often reminding me that we really have no deadlines. It takes a while, but I eventually relax.

That's cool, until I look up and it's almost midnight and I haven't posted my blog.

No worries. It's 11:11 somewhere.

Overtime

I was in the pool this evening when our neighbors splashed over. Their daughter will be in sixth grade at my school next year and they had some friendly questions.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am not the sort to engage in conversation casually; small talk is a struggle. Not so tonight-- ask me a specific professional question and away I go. I had no problem chatting with them for well over 20 minutes.

On the way home we checked our mailbox, and our contracts were there. Through a series of funding changes and snafus the school system was unable to have us formally commit to returning next year before we left in June; so it was that today we had big envelopes with explicit directions to Open Immediately. I did as I was instructed, and then I did a little happy dance when I saw that my salary would crest a level I never dreamed I'd earn.

Being informally on call at the pool? My pleasure.

And that summer vacation thing? It's not too bad either.

Proveganda

Last night after I went to bed, Heidi and Josh watched Forks Over Knives, the documentary that turned our kitchen upside down. As I drifted off, I heard Josh raising objections, and I appreciated his critical thinking. Try as I might, I don't think veganism is for me.

We were rushing to get on the road this morning to reunite Josh and his full-time family. I offered to heat up his left over pizza for a quick breakfast, and he gratefully accepted. His left over bacon cheese pizza.

"How was it?" I asked on the way to the car.

"It was good, but somehow it didn't seem right eating it," he answered, "all that bacon."

Another one bites the dust.

Listen Bud

Josh is going home tomorrow and so we let him pick the movies the last couple of days. Yesterday it was Ted, which was a bit of a disappointment to all. Heidi and I thought it was kind of a vulgar, not very funny movie, and Josh found it hilarious in places, but inconsistent. Either way, it was a little uncomfortable to sit next to him through drug use and raunchy sex talk.

Today it was The Amazing Spider Man. Not a bad movie, but for me it added nothing new to all the other Spider man movies I've seen-- I mean how many times do you need to see (or read about, or watch on TV) a  guy in red and blue tights swinging through an urban canyon to get it that it would be cool to be bitten by a radioactive spider?

Even so, I appreciate the complexity of the Marvel Comics universe. I admire that the movies generally stand alone but also work on a different level for the most dedicated of fans. For them, the producers always embed another layer of connection and information that we casual fans can mine like gold nuggets, if we are of the mind.

And yes, we stayed for the extra scene after the first credits. Who was that guy??

If Not for You

The darkness was falling fast as walked  down the fire road behind Heidi's stretcher. Fifteen volunteers took turns bearing the weight as they rolled her over the uneven terrain on one nubby mountain bike tire. "We're double timing!" one guy announced jubilantly, and they really were, considering that they had just carried her down from a height of 500 feet over a half mile of granite ledges and boulders.

One of the two women volunteers fell into step with me. She was about my age, and we had seen her slip and actually fall a few times on the trail. We had also seen her spring right back up and into action each time. "Do you know how to get to the hospital from here?" she asked and then helpfully clarified my vague ideas about the directions.

"You go right past the village green," she said, "but you'll miss the concert," she smiled wryly. "That ends at nine."

I had no idea it was even close to nine o'clock, there is a certain timelessness that sets in with any crisis.

"Our son plays in the band," she continued. "In fact, he's the reason we're here. Last summer he was working on a trail maintenance crew when one of his co-workers was injured. He came home and told us it took 20 people to carry him out. 20 people! We looked at each other and said, 'We can help with that!' and so we do."

I sighed. "Wow," I said, "You hike these trails and you never think about what would happen if you couldn't get down. Well... I never do, anyway. Thank goodness you all are here. What would we have done without you? I'm not sure how to thank you."

She nodded and then gestured to Josh and Riley and Treat. "Well, I think we made an impression on some young people," she said. "If they see that they can help out, then that's a good start."