February 1st already and my fourth book is nowhere ready to publish. I'm still waiting for the cover art on the second book, which I can hardly wait to see. Life is busy for my editor and my graphic artist and they are both teaching me patience in a way I have not learned before.
I have tons of patience with things I can control, such as knitting a lattice leaf afghan with baby yarn on size 4 needles that took 14 years to complete. Each knit row took 45 minutes so I couldn't pick it up lightly and knit a few stitches. Each pearl row took about 20 minutes because it was much less involved. The afghan is over six feet long and comfortably wide enough for one person--me. I was so glad when I finally finished it, but I store in the cedar chest. I don't dare put it on the back of the couch like I had originally intended. Well, that's another kind of patience...
My dogs. Oh, good grief! I have had dogs all my life. There has rarely been a time in my life when I haven't had at least one dog and often times, I've had two or three. I had two Great Danes, brother and sister, that I raised from six weeks old until death. I lost Worf prematurely when he was six years old because his kidneys shut down. Jadzia lived to be ten years, four months, and five days--a long time for a Great Dane. The average life span for a Great Dane is eight years. I consider myself blessed to have had her for so long.
People warned me before I bought my Great Dane puppies that they would tear my yard up and destroy my house. I had had Great Danes before, many years ago, and I didn't remember them being that bad. And by and large, they weren't. Oh, they did chew on my oak fern table that I had specially made, they chewed on the trim of my Pella French doors (grrrrrr!), and they ripped off the front ruffle on my brand new couch (note to self: never buy new furniture just before bringing home a new puppy! Or new puppies, as in this case) and they opened a hole on my favorite perch in my whole house, my "momma bear" size recliner, in which I am now sitting. BUT all this is nothing to the motley pair of dogs I now have.
Nimbus was free to a good home. He is part black lab and part beagle. I'm not fond of beagles--I find their bark irritating and Nimbus has learned to stop barking on command. Over a year later, my friend Mary called me and asked me if I still wanted another Great Dane as a companion for Nimbus. I did and Luna is part Great Dane and part American Bulldog--the tall kind, not the short, squat breed with the turned in front legs. Note the names of these two critters--they came with these names and since I'm a great fan of Harry Potter, I saw no reason to change their names.
On with learning patience. Nimbus would be content to eat, sleep, eat some more, sleep some more, and sit around letting me pet him for hours on end. He especially likes being pet under his chin.
Luna just wants to play, eat a little, play, sleep a little, play, and rough house constantly. Nimbus is fortunately her favorite target, although I occasionally come under fire. Luna, like my Great Dane, Jadzia, is a thief and very destructive. My notebook that chronicled over ten years of walking on my treadmill has been destroyed. I find pieces and parts of things that I sometimes can't identify--only knowing that someday when I may want to use it, it will be destroyed and I won't be able to find it. Now, I am constantly having to make sure that anything on my kitchen countertops is pushed way back and I have to wash off muddy paw prints several times per day or when I get home from work. The Great Danes never--and I do mean never--tracked in mud like these two. When I finally took a moment to ponder this, I realized the Great Danes had never totally destroyed the grasses and weeds that grew up in their compound. They had paths they stuck to and I had to mow the compound on a regular basis. Last summer, I mowed the compound once all summer! The grasses are totally destroyed and only a few weeds dared to grow over a foot high and the rest died out. Hence, every time it rains, the compound is muddy and guess who tracks in as much mud as they possibly can...
However, I have noticed of late that I no longer have paw prints on the countertops, not that I can see anyway. I had vainly hoped that Luna was learning to not jump up on the counters with her front paws, but alas, it's not so. The reason I no longer have muddy paw prints all over my kitchen floor and my countertops is because there is this lovely thick layer of snow covering the compound. I still have to sweep and mop the kithen floor and I don't dare prepare any food without scouring the kitchen countertops first, but at least, I'm not seeing mud everywhere I look. I believe that is the real purpose for snow--to make the world (and my kitchen) look clean and bright--at least when it first falls. I truly hate cold weather and have every intention of moving to a more temperate climate in the next few years, and while I have always loved watching snow lazily falling to earth, I've never been fond of wind-driven snow that heralds a blizzard. However, at long last, I have a new appreciation for snow--it makes keeping my house reasonably clean easier--and I'm all for that. J
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