Ducks and Books

Chewie is cavorting through the living room attacking his green squeaky duck.  He tosses it, chases it like it ran away, springs on it as if it has defied the will of God and man, and then gnaws it in brief contentment before repeating the cycle.  Roux is watching him a little warily from her perch on the couch.  Life rolls on.

Roux can stand now on her own for short stretches, but she still can't walk. I carry her outside like the oversized child she is.  If you don't think a pit bull is a hefty dog, then come tote mine.... Her appetite remains extremely good; I just fed her.  She drinks plenty.  I sneak her small treats, tiny bites of cheese if I have some, a morsel of my lunch, a strip of crust off my breakfast slice of bread.  She is alert when she needs or wants to be.  The rest of the time she snores in oblivion.  I am hopeful that tomorrow will be the day she walks some on her own.

When I wasn't dog-nursing today, I did laundry and read.  The laundry was just something running in the background.  It is probably my favorite chore because it is so low-maintenance.  So many other things can get done while it is being processed.  The sheer luxury of a day reading, though, and totally guilt-free, was fantastic.  I've read two-and-a-half books in the past three days.  I am now rereading The Hobbit, and unless I decide to do something else, I will probably finish it up tonight.  The feeling of ripping through text for pleasure is fantastic.  I just need to keep my Kindle adequately charged.

It has only just started to register that the summer is actually here, that everything is finally over.  Tonight, I was at my parents' house having dinner with them, and I caught myself with that twisting feeling that I always get at the end of the weekend when I know I have to go back and face a problem at school the next day.  Then I smiled.  There are no more next days to go back to.  For better or worse, it's all over now.  My mother looked at me and said, "Just started to sink in that it's summer, right?"  When your parent also has done what you do for a living a lot longer than you have, it sort of makes you transparent in certain situations, I suppose....

I want to write some things about some music I'm listening to lately, my current auditory obsessions.  I might get around to that in a couple of days.  I also have to finish up preparations for Brazil.  That is looming ever-closer, and I'm really no more prepared for it than I have been.  As usual.  I also need to do a thorough cleaning of my house, and, for the first time in a really long time, I want to have people over.  Yeah, the house is still ramshackle, but if I keep waiting for that to change, I may be 90.  Screw it.  They're not coming to see my house, right?  (right?)  I miss seeing my friends.  I'm going to see if I can put together a way to get some of them together.  It will probably have to be after Brazil, but I am going to do this.

For now, though, I'm just going to enjoy my book and my snoring dog.