alderfather

I'm looking at the full moon out the window. It's huge! So I'm wondering if the conspiracy theorists who think there's alien spaceships hiding on the back side also still believe there's boogie men in their closets.

Wyatt showed me time and again that one should live life fully and with joy. He was a most loving and kind dog. I love him so.
The flowers are just starting to bloom in the woods. Winter has passed and nature is quickened. Wyatt loved spring. He loved every day.
We found a little knoll and made a final resting place for him. From there he can watch the wildlife and smell all there is to smell. He was in awful pain recently. I felt so bad for him. Now he is at peace.
Those he loved got to spend time with him the last couple of days. To say goodbye, to share a memory with us. I so appreciate how those he loved became a part of his life.

So I have a favor to ask of you all. Please say a prayer or whatever you do for Wyatt. He was diagnosed with bone cancer in his left foreleg. There's really nothing the vet can do to heal this. We feel bad for him. He's only 4 and just a sweet guy.
Thanks for your kind thoughts.

Not to get all alarmist or anything but, there are bluebirds checking out the nesting boxes in the yard this morning. It's February 4th for Gods sake. That's two or three months early.
It is bright and sunny and a balmy 35 degrees already so I guess they're a tad confused. I know I am.

Because I was raised in an English speaking household I understand you when you speak to me in English. Were you to chat at me in Swedish I would have no clue what you were saying. You might think I was particularly dense or some such.
Normal for me is not normal. There may not be a "normal" at all. A group of like-minded people could have a fairly broad consensus, but in the end each individual thinks they define what is normal; not "that idiot". He's a bit out there.
So let's agree that we don't. Agree. It would take away lots of reasons to argue.

I had loved listening to Toni Childs years ago and just forgot her over the years. She is an amazing singer.
Here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5qLzNaPBTs&feature=related

Listen, Love.

There's a 40 foot tall Norway spruce in the yard to the west of the house. I came home one day and looked up to see a cat sitting atop the tree. That didn't make sense so I looked again and saw it was a very large owl. Huh! Pookie came home a bit later and said "hey, there's a cat in the pine tree"! Then she realized it was an owl.
The lesson in this? Sometimes owls just mess with you. Because they can.

Here's sort of what he looked like ... http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/eb/Bubo_virginianus_-Canada-6.jpg/240px-Bubo_virginianus_-Canada-6.jpg&imgrefurl=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Horned_Owl&h=259&w=240&sz=23&tbnid=HBPNk2Y4gsw0dM:&tbnh=93&tbnw=86&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dgreat%2Bhorned%2Bowl%26tbm%3Disch%26tbo%3Du&zoom=1&q=great+horned+owl&docid=Q4JDO7BNQy3y2M&hl=en&sa=X&ei=nX4VT47KL8Tk0QH86v2AAw&sqi=2&ved=0CGQQ9QEwAw&dur=5226

Holy shit that's a long url y'all!

What's the definition of an expert? Someone who lives at least 50 miles away.
So Wyatt and I just returned from a walk in a balmy, (40 degree), dry woods. Weird-ass thing for this time of year in Lake Affect NY. I scoped out the weather geeks, (experts), and they talk of La Nina and oscillations being positive and blah. Hell, we're all guessing. The larger indication is something is fucked up.
Again, I don't care for winter so I'm not complaining. I find this departure from normal kind of fascinating.

Sometimes my heart is happy for no particular reason. Sometimes otherwise. Hormones? Moon cycles? Hell I don't know but it always changes so there's that to look forward to.

Interested in fun, well written stories? Check out http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/
Not only is she a great writer, she's a cool young woman as well.

As a child growing up near the shore of Lake Ontario I had the joy of spending endless summers wandering the beach and the woods and marshes that were my playground. One of the more interesting, though unsavory, occurrences was the gobs of storm tossed seaweed and dead alewives that lined the water edge from time to time. Seagulls soared and scrapped over the beach in a riot of noise and stink.
Things change. The zebra mussel came and altered the balance. The alewives and seaweeds declined. Now along the shore there is much less food for the scavengers.
Today I live 20 miles south of the lake. A few miles south of me is a major landfill, a dump. Every afternoon I watch as the seagulls fly back toward the protection of the lake from spending their day foraging on our trash.
What was the lake shore like a hundred years before I was born? What will it be like a hundred or thousand years after I'm gone?

Do dogs spit?