Ups and Downs

Our world spins out of our control all the time, doesn't it? I mean things just sort of happen to us and around us and in spite of us.

My Bill is at a two-artist art show back east. (See how far west I live now? I say "back east".) He sold four originals! Yay and yay, that is good news and definitely an UP. He has been gone since Thursday. That is sort of a down. I do fine when he is away. I mean, I am not afraid in the house. I got the yard mowed and the lilac bush planted. I got the poop bags in the trash and the recycling separated. (It is critically important not to confuse the two.) I got the dogs in and out and their toenails ground and their teeth brushed. These are all things I do whether he is home or not. But, well, more on that later.

Our dear friends Harvey and Jeannie are moving to California. They are the first "couple friends" we've ever had. Harvey and Bill are really good buddies, and though I was a hard nut to crack, or just a nut, Jeannie is a kind, generous soul and she didn't give up on me. I met her the first time in my dear vet's waiting room. That's a good enough omen right there. Now we have dinner together several times a week (one of us usually feels like cooking and the rest of us say "go for it!" or none of us wants to cook and we go out to a downtown eatery.) When I met Jeannie, I was still deeply mourning the friends I had left when we moved here. Being physically separated from those dear women was really on the par of an unwanted divorce for me, and I felt too exhausted to start a new friendship. I invest too much, and I was depleted. I am so glad she forgave me for being so remote at first. We shared some extraordinary times. Showing at Westminster, the birth of Lindy Loo and her siblings, a trip to Chicago to pick up Swede William from Sweden, and my son's horse races at Keeneland and Churchill Downs. I took Harvey and Jeannie for granted; that they'd always be here. But they are moving the end of June. That is a BIG DOWN.

The waggle went to some dog shows this weekend! In Jackson, Tennessee. You know that Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash song:

We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout,

We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.

I'm goin' to Jackson, I'm gonna mess around,

Yeah, I'm goin' to Jackson,Look out Jackson town.

Well, go on down to Jackson; go ahead and wreck your health.

Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself,

You're goin' to Jackson; go comb your hair!

Honey, I'm gonna snowball Jackson.See if I care.

When I breeze into that city, people gonna stoop and bow. (Hah!)

All them women gonna make me, teach 'em what they don't know how,
I'm goin' to Jackson, you turn-a loose-a my coat.

'Cos I'm goin' to Jackson."Goodbye," that's all she wrote.

But they'll laugh at you in Jackson, and I'll be dancin' on a Pony Keg.

They'll lead you 'round town like a scalded hound,With your tail tucked between your legs,

You're goin' to Jackson, you big-talkin' man.

And I'll be waitin' in Jackson, behind my Jaypan Fan,

Well now, we got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper Sprout,

We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.

I'm goin' to Jackson, and that's a fact.

Yeah, we're goin' to Jackson, ain't never comin' back.

It's that actual Jackson, and I've been singing the song since I made the entries. Heather (Baby Ben's mom) went with me both days, and that was a treat. For me. Maybe not so much for her, as she had a raging cold and I picked her and Emmett (Lindy Loo's litter brother) up at 7:15 Saturday morning, and 5:30 Sunday morning. Sleep in on a weekend? Nah. In shows the winners of the classes for each sex go back into the ring to compete for "Winners Dog" or "Winners Bitch" each of whom are the only dogs in their breed to win points toward their championship. In small shows, often both Emmett and Swede William have to go back in. Usually we have to get someone the dogs don't know to take one of them back in, and that's no fun. So Heather got a crash course in handling on Wednesday. On Sunday, She won Winners Dog with Emmett!!! That was a BIG UP! Good for Heather! Good for Emmett! Woo-hoo!!! Up, up, up!



We stopped at the International House of Pancakes on the way home. Another UP!



Delia is my dog again. Temporarily. Usually when Bill goes away, she hangs with me. Reluctantly, with one ear on the door listening for Bill's return, but she hangs with me. For whatever reason, this time she is My Best Friend. This has been absolutely delightful for me, but not so much for Lindy Loo. Delia feels the need to squash her great-niece like a bug. She literally steps on her with her front feet, with a most perturbed look on her face. When she spends most of her time with Bill, this is no big deal. But when she's lying right next to me, Lindy Loo is near by, and this just annoys the stuffing out of Delia. Lindy Loo pays no mind, and never challenges her lot in life, so we're all OK. And I'm enjoying Delia's silliness. Up.



Aynex is leaving in something positively horrid, like four days. Down doesn't go any lower than this. She has lit this neighborhood with her spirit and humor, and I fear that buildings will simply fall down when she's not here.



We took all the dogs along to the show on Saturday, since Bill wasn't home to let them out. When we got to the show grounds, we got them out of the van, a few at a time to potty. When Very Old Dog's turn came, he strutted and wagged and bounced around. He was at a dog show! Woo would you look at him! Silly Old Dog. Precious up.


When Bill is gone, I'm not quite all here. (Yes, you could make the argument that I'm never quite all there, and you'd be right, but that's a different subject.) When he's away, I feel a little stupid, a lot ugly, and fat. I feel like the world is spinning sightly off kilter. And this amazes me. It was not always this way. I'm quite the independent one. Or I was. Bill is fifteen years older than I am. I feel so vulnerable. The upside to this is that dear Lord, after twenty-five years I do so love him.

What has rocked my world is my dear friend's sudden diagnosis and surgery for a brain tumor. At first, I didn't realize it had rocked my world, as I was totally consumed with her world. She is facing radiation and chemo as soon as her surgical wounds heal. Just like that, snap, her life, her husband's life, her dogs' lives changed. She is an incredibly brave, inspirational superhero, and is dealing with this with courage and humor and grace. That she has to endure this feels so unfair, so random, so mean. Being so far away means that I lie in bed at 4:18 AM and write about it. I thought I might go and help. But they have tons of friends and family close by who love them, and what, I tra la into town with my suitcase and my good intentions to get in the way? Going there would have been for me, not for them.

Fat Charlie is enjoying his last night on Bill's side of the bed. As I type, he's got all four legs stuck stick straight up in the air. Bill will be home in six hours and twenty-one minutes, if his plane is on time.

And Delia will do a happy dance. The whole waggle will howl their delight to the sky. And my world will be a little less off balance.

Hug your hounds.