Guilty pleasures, guilty secrets

Not long ago, Even-sister sent me her mp3 player to pass on to our niece. It didn’t work. After I charged it up and reset it, I listened to a lot of the music on it. WG asked later if it was now good. ‘Well,’ I answered, ‘It’s good, except for some of the music.’
It’s just that there was a fair amount of country music, which I don’t care for and lots of Bluegrass, which for me, a little goes a long way. (but I did pull off one John Prine song I liked.)
I think we are all like that. We have music we like to share with others and music that most folks like; but we have some songs that we are just a little too embarrassed to let people know that we listen to.
So I don’t mind playing my iPod in the car, I can usually skip the stuff that WG doesn’t like. But there are songs, silly or sappy, that I always bypass, despite that I like them or that they have special meaning to me.
I seriously don’t want anyone to know I listen to that crap.

Wise to her tricks

Yesterday morning, WG and I were relaxing on the back deck. Just back from our dog walk, we were reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. Tommy was resting and Molly was exploring the backyard. Nice and peaceful.
It was then that we heard some click-click noises coming from the side gate as if someone was trying to unlatch the gate or maybe the wind was making the gate rattle the latch. After a few minutes of this, WG got up to check the gate and laughed when she saw what was going on. She called me over and we both got a chuckle out of what was going on.
A little bird was frantically pulling at the string that unlatches the gate! I guess it was building a nest and the green string looked useful. The bird kept at it until WG walked over to the gate and shooed it away. “We can’t have that!” She said. “It might open the gate and…where’s Molly?”
Uh oh. We immediately checked the yard and in the house, no Molly!
WG opened the gate and went into the front yard and I heard her calling for Molly to come! A moment later, the Bad Beagle ran back through the open gate, followed by WG.
“She was just down the street. Our neighbor was shooing her home.”
Tommy, the good dog, was still resting on the grass.
WG closed the gate and put a brick in front of it. “That will keep it closed.”

The little bird kept at it all morning, until I replaced the string with a thin chain. So, as I have said, never trust a beagle! Nor little birdies also!

Discombobulation

I not sure if dogs count, if they know when one gets more treats than the others; but they can tell time (mostly).
And that’s the problem we have, now that I am no longer working. For it is hard to maintain a schedule now and the routine is broken. Tommy like his routines.
If I get up before seven, which is not likely, it is the usual. Pet the dogs who are waiting, make the coffee, WG and I take the dogs for their walk. But if I get up later, then we have to wait until after eight, for the sidewalks are crowded with kids walking to school.
Now it is fun to see the expressions on the little girls’ faces when they see Molly and Tommy, but it is hard to walk and constantly avoid them. Not everyone likes dogs and it’s polite to let the kids have the sidewalk.
So Tommy waits for us and watches for the signs of the walk. Molly does not see the signs and is just excited.
And it is hard for me to set up a routine, but I am close. Choose one day to do projects, one day to job search. I have found that on the current stone path project, I am better off if I just mix half a bag of mortar. Then I am only on my knees for four hours and my knees don’t hurt as much. I then have the afternoon to do like fix-it jobs, or write.
I really have to be in just the right mood to write and I can’t be if a project looms over me. So a half-day of the project, I have made some progress and I can clear my mind of it and think of a story.
I have nine pages of a fun little story done and might be able to finish it soon. Willow will be pleased.

It’s three o’clock and Molly is antsy. She thinks she should be fed. Tommy is relaxed, for he knows feeding time is four-thirty. Tommy can tell time, but Molly is hopeless; or should I say, hopeful!

The kids are getting out of school now and Molly has to bark at the voices on the other side of the fence. Tommy sometimes barks, but Molly always does. Silly beagle that she is.

Sigh, I am a man of unfortunate leisure, with dogs.

Nobody knows where we are.

So, we have started laying the stones for the front walkway. I have found that it takes the same amount of time to lay a big stone as it does to lay a small stone. So despite the smaller space in front: because we are using smaller stones, it will take longer to do the front walkway than it did to do the backyard patio.
Put down a dollop of mortar, set the flat stone in the mortar. Tap it down, check the slope, tap it some more. If you tap the north side down, the south side lifts a little. Tap the center and it settles evenly. Because of this, I have to run a string over the stone to see where the high and low spots are, then careful tapping gets the stone to match the slope of the walkway.
Most stones are flat, but some are a little uneven and they take longer to set. I have to make the uneven stones fit the average.
Then some silly song goes through my head.
One minute high,
next minute low.
Nobody knows where we are.
Nobody knows where we are.

I wish I could remember the rest of the song, or who sung it, but it reminds me to take a step back and eyeball the slope and fit of the stones. It is easy to get focused on one or two stones and get off your mark.

Wonder-Girl has the stones all positioned. It’s like a picture puzzle, but without the picture. WG checks the fit in the pattern that I can’t see. Not too many of one color together, not too many with similar shapes together.
I am too busy just getting them set in mortar.

One minute high,
next minute low.
Nobody knows where we are.
Nobody knows where we are.

We make a good team. WG does the chipping to make them fit, adjust the color and texture, I set them in the mortar and keep the slope (or do my level best.)

Four to five hours at a time, then even a steady dose of Advil can’t keep my knees from complaining. Time to clean up and call it a day. WG says it is looking good, I can’t see the forest for the trees.

After the stones are done, we will put in the border of clay bricks. At least they are uniform in size and shape, so they should be easier to lay.
I’ll worry about that later, I am still focused of the paving stones.

One minute high,
next minute low.
Nobody knows where we are.
Nobody knows where we are.