Seriously, I don’t drive more than I must. Don’t like it when I do. I know I can, which is important (emergencies can happen), but it has been so long since I did much driving, I’ve forgotten the turns and twists in the roads. I’ve always gotten lost easily, but now I am always lost, from start to finish.
Also, I’m used to seeing the world from the other seat. Stuff looks different when you ride shotgun.
It’s how I get all those great fuzzy pictures of road signs and trucks passing us.
Then, of course, there’s flying. Aren’t we all glad I’m not trying that on my own? I have enough trouble navigating the airport.
Happy landings, fellow passengers. Whether you are flying, driving, or just bumping along life’s uneven byways, stay safe. Try to get there in time to board your flight.
Now that the front door and sidelights is ordered, I need to get a doggy door. The one we’ve got is huge. We’ve had so many different dogs, from very small to really big, we needed one door to fit all of them. Now, though, with just the two terriers, we can drop down from the extra-large to a medium. Both dogs are the right height for medium, but if Bonnie gets any more rotund, I’m afraid it’ll be like Winnie the Pooh all over again. Poor Bonnie, stuck in the door!
I measured the dogs. When I was done, I put the tape measure back in its container and looked up Scottish Terriers because you can’t measure a wriggling dog. Bonnie was either 10 or 13-inches tall. Gibbs was maybe 12 or possibly 14-inches tall. Both seemed to be about 15-inches wide, which would make them wider than they are tall … so I went with the breed description.
You’d think getting a doggy door would be a no-brainer after dealing with getting the entire front door, but nothing is easy. Initially, I figured I’d get another Pet Safe door since we’ve had them for the past 17 years and they never wear out. You just get a new flap when the old ones gets warped from sun, wind, snow, rain … and being whacked head-first by a charging dog. When Bishop was a young one, he’d leap down the stairs and straight out the door with all the other guys following him.
Whack, thump, bang, whack, whack. Then they all turned around and came back in. More whacks and thumps and bangs.
Dog doors come with and without electronics. With soft and hard doors. They also come with multiple layers of flaps or hard doors to keep the heat in and the cold out … or the cold in and the bugs out. Some were more expensive than the entire front door and two sidelights I just bought.
I wanted a regular door. Not hard, because our dogs are not used to hard doors and I’m pretty sure getting smacked on the head by a hard plastic door a few hundred times a day might discourage them from using it — not what I want. So soft. And not black. One of the nicer doors comes with a heavy black flap … but Gibbs gets freaked out when he can’t see the light on the other side. I also didn’t want one of the new Pet Safe doors because there are a lot of complaints from people like me who had the older doors and think the new ones are plastic junk.
Eventually, I went to PetDoors.com and had a sensible conversation with their online chat person. She said “Go with Ideal. Better than Pet Safe, not as expensive as Hale.” There were a few others she didn’t bother to mention. A bit pricey. You could buy a Harley for less money.
So, I’m down to two doors. Really, more like one door, but you can buy it in plastic or aluminum. I’m betting we’ll go with aluminum.
All of this took me hours and I’m exhausted. I have spent a lot of money I don’t have and will have to spend another few hundred for all the finishing pieces. Two-by-fours and molding and paint and doggy doors and flooring. Weather stripping. Screw and nuts and bolts and blades for the Sawzall. And, at the end of this, presumably, we will have a door for humans and dogs and I will not have to think about this again for another decade or two.
Just imagine how much more complicated planning health care would be. My mind boggles.
Are taking pictures of a rusted old fire engine as it gets rebuilt … is that a goal? I’m also (still and forever) trying to figure out how to get a new door for the house, get the bugs out of the house. Kill the ants, the carpenter ants and anything else that is crawling around. Otherwise, I live from day-to-day, trying to figure out something new to say on this blog. I suppose that’s a goal, of sorts.
Mostly, we live with the goal of staying alive, staying smart, keeping focused. Not sliding into some hazy elderly oblivion. To remain reasonably healthy.
I think goals are overrated. We live our entire lives focused on goals. As soon as we achieve one, we need another because what’s life without a goal? So we create a new goal and drive towards it as if the goal is our meaning. I’m cheered by how healthy and active people many years my elders are. It’s delightful that they are in such fine shape. I’m not terribly impressed by a 90-year-old woman who is still determined to run the Boston Marathon. All I can think of is … “But why?”
Let’s take a break. We don’t need a goal. It’s okay to relax. To enjoy being with friends or family or do whatever you do that you enjoy — or do nothing. You do not need a goal.
What is one thing you’re glad you tried but would never do again?
I could answer that, but then I’d have to kill you.
Did you choose your profession or did it choose you?
I was doomed to be a writer. I was helpless before the waves that broke over me. It was filled with words. Millions and millions of words. Engulfed and drowning in words, I needed use up the words.
I started to write. There are still mountains of words waiting to be written and I’m going as fast as I can!
This is where the a pond and a marsh meet the river. The water changes from clear with a place to swim, to white algae — all within inches. All natural. You can actually see the line where when system ends and the next begins.
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