“One benefit of summer was that each day we had more light to read by.” ― Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle
The summer days are gliding past, it is hard to believe it is Day 22. I’ve enjoyed the first twenty-one days and made them count and the past seven days of summer have been filled with up, downs, ins, outs, and a lot of rain at home as well as by the lake shore.
O and I returned home late Sunday afternoon for a quick visit home to grab a couple of things we needed before returning this morning for the Independence Day weekend.
Monday morning, Fern and I awakened to a very moist garden and yard. It had rained most of the previous week and W (our lawn service) had not been able to mow the lawn. The mid-June flowers were blooming and there was a closeness that only can be felt in the summer. It’s the point where you can feel the moistness of the air. It rained and was cloudy, but Fern and I ventured out for a walk and we both came home exhausted and thirsty.
And as the song’s chorus reminds me,
This could possibility be the best day ever! (This could possibility be the best day ever,) And the forecast says that tomorrow will likely be a million and six times better. So, make every minute count, jump up, jump in, and seize the day, And let’s make sure that in every single possible way, Today is gonna be a great day!
Making the Days Count, one day at a time, especially when it rains.
What was one of your ups (or downs) this past week?
W^2 or W squared for Wordless Wednesday, June 9, 2021
Beginning another summer break with a dog that loves to play fetch. First post of the summer blog season, season 12 of making the days count dot org, more to come.
Fern loves to play fetch. Wheaton, IL Tuesday June 8, 2021 6:19 PM
catch is the object of fetch. Wheaton, IL Tuesday June 8, 2021 6:19 PM
playing fetch is hard work and tiring, too. Wheaton, IL Tuesday June 8, 2021 6:19 PM
This could possibly be the best day ever and the forecast says that tomorrow will likely be a million and six times better. So, make every minute count, jump in, jump out, and seize the day and let’s make sure that in every possible way – today is gonna be a great day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time.
One of the joys and blessings of this pandemic is making time (and taking time) to get out and move purposefully outside. Herrick Lake is a short drive from home and there is much to take in on a mid-afternoon walk with my puppy Fern (not pictured). Making the Days COUNT, one day at a time, especially when I make time to be mindful.
Good bye 2019. It has been a year. A lot of it has been good and some not so good.
Yesterday we were at the lake and this morning we are home.
I re-read my first post of last year – a first Sunday and two sunsets. Last year, I had planned to write more often but didn’t. There were a lot of distractions AND diversions throughout the year from the beginning until the end. Habits changed, life intervened.
In March, my mother passed away after a brief illness, in May we got a puppy, in August we got the midnight phone call every parent dreads, and in December it all came together and we finished strong.
These three seemingly disconnected events are connected by a common theme – the color yellow. I suppose the color of the year for me was yellow, but I am taking the color with me into 2020.
O has always wanted a puppy. The problem with puppies is they don’t stay puppies, they grow and mature into dogs. O got her puppy in Ivy but Ivy became my dog and she was no longer a puppy. Ivy is an amazing dog, but she isn’t a puppy
It started before Mother’s Day with a text and a picture. Her name was Yellow. She was the same breed and coloration of Ivy – liver and white Brittany Spaniel. The breeder used colored collars to tell the puppies apart, her collar was yellow so she was Yellow.
Yellow the puppy – 5/19
backyard Fern – 9/19
Fern the puppy – 1/20
Then there was a four and half hour Saturday drive to Southern Illinois and back. O drove the first leg with one puppy and I drove the return leg with two.
When we brought her home, Yellow didn’t have an official name, yet. O wanted to call her Bailey, but B didn’t think she looked like a Bailey and there was already a Bailey in the neighborhood and bailey ended with a long E sound like Ivy and B contended it would be confusing. Continue reading yellow – it’s a new year→
We can learn a lot from our dogs. I’ve learned a lot from Ivy, our Brittany Spaniel. Fern, our Brittany puppy is a work in progress. She’s made a lot of progress since we brought her home seven weeks ago, but we have a lot progress to make.
A couple of mornings ago, Fern and I were out for a walk. I needed to move and so did she. Walking a dog is an exercise in curiosity, walking a puppy is a course in curiosity and patience.
Fern is learning and so am I. As we walked, Fern was discovering a new world, even though we had walked part of the same route a day earlier. Fern discovered objects I didn’t see – pine cones, sticks, and sadly, trash – paper and plastic.
Fern saw insects and birds – I could see them, but she noticed them and followed them with her head and would pull on the leash give chase to them. Continue reading curiosity→
It’s Thursday morning and I am the only soul awake. Even Ivy sleeps. She woke when I did, went outside, and came back to the screen door and I let her inside. She is curled up in a ball on the footstool, grandma’s footstool. It’s Ivy’s perch, so to speak. The footstool comes with grandma’s chair, it’s grandma’s morning perch when she is here, too. There’s a marked depression where she lays and it’s now part of the cottage. Last summer, when grandma was up north, Ivy came over to the footstool, put her head on grandma’s leg and looked up, pleading. Grandma held her ground and Ivy retreated to her pad by the door. This morning Ivy jumped up on the stool without asking, though sometimes she does ask but this morning she didn’t. I did not protest, as I often do, or almost always, she warmed my legs while I sipped my coffee and gazed out across the lake as early morning slipped into day and the lake slowly returned to light.
Yesterday was windy and it wasn’t a good day for boating, Tuesday was windy, as well, and taking the kayak out was a struggle, but I did it anyway. Today looks like it will windy and the lake will be choppy for another day. Nevertheless, I have other tasks to do; there is always something to do, to keep busy, some important task that needs to be accomplished. Continue reading Today is the day→
Spring is in full bloom. I can see it and I can feel it. It’ll be gone before I know it. That’s the way things to work – gone and replaced by something new. The flowering trees and shrubs are in full bloom and they are absolutely stunning with their pinks, reds, and whites.
Ivy’s head rests on my knee and she gazes through the window, watching the shadows in the yard searching for movement protecting her home. Her warmth and the coffee help bring the day to life for me.
I enjoy getting up early, sipping coffee, and catching the day’s first lights as it creeps across the yard and illuminate the trees. It is quiet in the family room, at least on Sunday morning. Usually, on weekdays, W and I are out the door on our way to school and O is just rising readying for school. However, Sunday morning is different – the day begins much slower and quieter. It is just Ivy and I, peaceful and serene.