'Tis quiet here, maybe even more so than I like. Brian is working long hours on the combine crew so he's never here for supper and sleeps as long as possible in the morning. He doesn't always eat breakfast or even the lunch I pack for him daily; I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what he's subsisting on. Transitioning from the culture he's trying to immerse himself in this summer to school again which begins in just five short weeks may be bumpy....
Our dogs are not much more present. Dozer has been a somnolent old soul for awhile now, but Jackson is weakening at an alarming rate. His eyes are bright and he doesn't seem uncomfortable, but he can barely walk now and mostly does this:
On the other hand, how can my snow peas look this bad
and yet still be producing? I picked a pound and a half of green beans and easily twice that of peas today, along with a bouquet of yellow onions:
Those green beans will be consumed for Rick's and my supper; I'm going to make the following recipe along with some pesto pasta:
So life goes on. Sunrise, sunset; day in and day out. Rick and I have more time to do things as a couple right now. Yesterday evening we ran to Salem to do errands and stopped at a favorite restaurant for supper; I caught the sunset on the way home (the second photo; the first photo is yesterday's sunrise).
Last night I finished my Tour de Fleece project, and will start plying it tonight or tomorrow.
It's resting in Rick's latest creation; it's made out of hazelnut with hazelnut embellishment:
I can't listen to this right now, but am trying to remember that dancing with the dog o' my heart has been worth every second....
That's it for now from . . .
6 comments:
I'm so sorry to hear about Jackson. The hardest thing in the world is to watch them go downhill. It's never easy. But I love seeing Rick's bowls as much as seeing your yarns.
So sorry about Jackson. Our hearts break when our faithful companions start showing their decline. Your beautiful sky pics are fabulous!
I'm sorry to hear the old guys are slowing down so much. It's heartbreaking but try to remember all the love. There's transitions ahead for both you and Rick, and for Brian. He's stretching his wings and you have to let him, with watchful guidance when you can. Keep doing your best, that's all you can do.
We all exist through periods of our lives when we think everything will remain as it is and no changes, good or bad, seems possible. But life isn't like that and sometimes it's with more sadness than gladness that we soldier on. Jackson's decline reminds me of the way Max, our bouvier, left us. Those bright eyes say it all, Michelle --- what a happy, wonderful life he's had.
The craftsmanship of Rick's wood work is breath-taking. I think he has a second career in the making! As with your talent with wool, creating with one's hands is so satisfying, isn't it?
Your row of giving-it-their-all snow peas needs a round of applause! Plants are an amazing mystery at times. My snow peas this year are just now blossoming while the shell peas have (un-plumped up) pods on the vines. Usually it would be the snow peas I'd harvest first. Wonky growing season? Yep.
Not a lot of words, just understanding....our fur babies are so special.
Sending a hug.
Thank-you all for your kind words and understanding. Jackson is at the vet's getting some much needed help; I just did a quick update post.
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