Sunday, April 20, 2008

Fun Monday # 10




Our host for this week's Fun Monday is a Southern Doll

Here is what she wants to know:

  • What have you done in your life that was worth doing? I want to know the moments in your life that you hope will be the ones to pass through your mind when your time comes. I hope that doesn't sound too morbid. This doesn't necessarily have to be items you have checked off your Bucket List, it can be those small moments that made you smile, or the time you got that huge promotion you deserved, or the first time your baby smiled at you out of pure joy. I want to know all the moments, big and small, that make life sweet! If you don't already have a running list of these in your mind, you should! These moments help you remember how much your life is worth living, and we all deserve to enjoy it.




Oh, ugh. I don't mean ugh to the idea or assignment. Just, oh, ugh.



I used to ride horses. I used to live and breathe horses. The moment that the first foal that was born into my excited, frightened, incredulous arms will be with me always. I named her Naughty Marietta for my mom, who had died years before. (And for Gilbert and Sullivan, of course.) Actually, thinking about it now, I realize that I can close my eyes and bring back the birth of every foal. The smell of the deep nights after the nervous, exhausted, repeated walk out to the barn alone. Every two hours for a week or more. And sometimes I would wrap up in a cooler - a type of thick wool horse blanket - and sleep the rest of the night in the stall. The sounds, the same in every stable in the world, and the heart scents, and the expectant peace. I will take that all with me. I had some fun wins in competition, but when I remember what I loved, it's those quiet times in the barns.



[Stay with me.]



What I value most in my life are the friendships. My most intimate friendship is with Bill. That he values me, knowing all he knows about my shortcomings, doesn't make a lick of sense to me, but he does and oh Lordy am I lucky! I invest a great deal in my friendships. My adult son is a terrific friend. I've enjoyed the transformation of the parental role into less of a see-saw relationship. When I had to move away from my friends - Bill's daughters, Jake's old ponies, and the women who were closer to me than siblings - I floundered. See? Now this is already getting all maudlin; I knew it would.



Ugh.



OK. What I'm really proud of is the mastery I've accomplished at the wielding of the pooper scooper. This was not always so. Until Jim and Sue visited in the fall of '06, I owned no such instrument. I picked up my yard via the Baggie Method. Jim said this would not do, and trundled me down to the pet supply store and found me just the right rake and scoop. And two white five gallon buckets with lids. And I was set. Only for months I flicked poop everywhere but in the scoop. "It's all in the wrist," Jim tutored. I watched him deftly flick a turd, plink, right in the dead center of the scoop. I watched me flick one over the scoop and bonk down my pants leg. And they would get stuck between the tines of the rake. It would take me six, seven, ten flicks per poop, and there I'd be, in my city yard, in my red flannel paws and bones print jammies for all the world and folks driving to work to see, flicking turds here, there and everywhere but the damned thing at which I uselessly aimed.



No more, dear readers, no more! I now can execute ca-ca cleanup with my eyes closed. I've added flourishes for fun. I twirl around my scoop, clicking my heels, a Gene Kelly, singing in the shit and sometimes in the rain, too! Then I use my rake as a jaunty Three Musketeers type of sword. (Why did the Three Musketeers have sword fights, anyway? Shouldn't they have had musket fights?) Take that, poo poo! Into the scooper with you! "What a glorious feeling, I'm happy as spit!"



In one smooth motion, I do an overhead double back spin, catching the crap with the scoop behind my back, and wave to the stupified Trolley driver with the rake as he pulls away from the stop at our corner. Then, wanting to top that for the Mail Lady, I do a flying camel followed by a triple toe loop and plop goes the poop in the scooper. I scoop in evening gowns, just because I can. When I smile as I scoop, a sparkle flies off my tooth, like in a cartoon, and you hear a little "ding!" People come from miles around, to marvel at the poop free yard which houses nine whippet feces factories. Occasionally, I fly out of the back door, crying "Hi Ho, Scooper, away!" and zoom the poop is scooped, and bewildered passersby cry, "Who was that masked dooer of good deeds?"



I am the Queen of Poo.



Top that.

(See if anyone did at Southern Doll's blog.)



hug your hounds

25 comments:

  1. Applauding with appreciation to the “QUEEN” Super Duper Pooper Scooper .

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  2. Well, we all have to have a talent.

    :^D

    Jennifer

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  3. *snorting with laughter*! I should have expected this!!

    Yay to the Queen of the poop scoop!

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  4. Hurrah!!! Yay!!! We have a queen in our midst this week. A royal one. And that makes me feel like a Lady in Waiting. [don't take that wrong. rofl]

    I bow to the queen of Poo!!!


    My F M is posted, I hope you can stop by and read my entry. Have a super-duper day.

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  5. Patience, you need to teach me how to wield one....thankfully, I can get by without scooping the poop in the summertime....winter, well, the stuff stays around WAY too long.

    Beyond scoop, I think you have mastered the art of being a giving person. Your writing isn't so bad either :D

    Life went CRAZY for me, so I didn't participate in FM, but this looks like a good one!

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  6. ROFLMAO! You sure are the Queen of Poop!

    the Wriggles!

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  7. Hehehe! The question remains, after all the doodoo dancing turd trotting, what do you do with the remains of 9 whippet bottoms? We just throw ours in the garbage, but I'm not really sure if that's what you are "supposed" to do...

    You are a very lucky woman, Patience! Coming to your blog is like coming home, it feels like a big warm hug, the love is in every word. :)

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  8. Oh Dear - we are in tears here in Eugene. That's too funny. There's a photo of your booth on my blog.
    Jenn

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  9. Patience
    Mommi and I awe wolicking wif laughtew..thank you..you awe the Queen of oop!
    Hehehe
    love and smoochie kisses
    Asta
    pee ess..I don't see why all th whippets can't go to Italy wif you..they would be so gowgeous doing theiw aftewnoon passagiata..evewyone would be enthwalled

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  10. You need a special pooper scooper button, this was hilarious~ loved it :)

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  11. You have a lot of great memories (and your neighbor's probably do too)! We always love to read your blog! Keep up the good work with the pooper scooper! Our mom isn't quite as talented as you...she's still missing the bucket a lot (even though she's had YEARS of practice)!

    Aire-hugs,
    Poppy & Penny

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  12. Hee hee, thanks for the smiles. And I bow down to your mastery of poopdom, it sounds spectacular. :D

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  13. Now that is a talent that is worthy of writing about!!! Love A+A

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  14. Saw a cute story about a whippet in today's NYT. It is in the "Metropolitan Diary" section, which I assume is available online. It will make you love dog lovers even more.
    When you have a chance, check my blog. I write about my cat, Scruffy, and also about all manner of things political. I love comments, too.
    By the way, I thought I saved the whippet story but now I can't find it. Check my recent blog post on memory. Sigh.
    http://www.bebebahnsen.com/Bebe/Blog/Blog.html

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  15. Grammie picks up all of our poo. She is pretty good at finding it in the grass. Sometimes Pappy mows over it instead of picking it up and she wants to scoop him.

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  16. Well, my Dad is the master of the poo in our yard and I never see him doing any spins or anything. He needs to learn something from you and spice it up!

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  17. I want to be "Queen of Poo"! We are still using the antiquated baggie method. I must go invest in a pooper scooper and practice, practice, practice. Luckily (?) my dog gives me plenty to practice WITH.

    Lovely post. Not too syrupy. Not too maudlin.

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  18. *standing ovation!*

    you rule, oh queen of poo!

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  19. Who could write so eloquently about the pooper scooper world?...but YOU, my dear Patience! LOVED your blog post...so much fun in this one.:)

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  20. Oh, how I have missed you. Life has been a bit wild lately. But I came back today only to pick right up laughing. You are her majesty, Precious Patience of Proper and Precocious Pooper Plopping. The photos of Bills art are also very impressive. I love the storm.

    I still don't have my book. Do you think it just takes awhile or should we go looking for it?

    Hugs to all of you. You are, indeed, special.
    Laura

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  21. On a personal note, I love that we both are reading the same magazine. I have found a lot in this issue, which isn't true of every issue. I have a feeling we may have many things in common. I look forward to your comments on my blog.
    Laura

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  22. Francarrich from WWApril 25, 2008 at 7:23 PM

    Hi Patience,
    I think we need to see you in action with these fantastic tricks of poop scooping. A video with slo-mo action replays is called for, then we can all applaud you skills & learn the correct technique. Maybe you should do a correspondence course for us rookie scoopers - even after 20 years I can only handle a child's seaside spade for cleaning up my garden, I obviously need help & support to enable me to emulate such skills as yours!

    Keep up the good work - but then, with that many dogs you have to, don't you! LOL.

    Best wishes,
    Carol.

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  23. After leaving my comment on THIS week’s Fun Monday Favorite Walk post I decided to check last week’s Fun Monday too and I’m glad I did. I enjoyed getting a bit better acquainted … envy your experiences with horses … relate to your ‘pooper scooper mastery’ … and delight in your sense of humor!

    I hope you’re having a wonderful week!
    Hugs and blessings,

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