After the puppies were born, life was a blur of bottles and newspapers. The pups took to Bella easily and she was a wonderful mommy. Due to the large size of the litter and Bella's tiny stature, we supplemented formula for a few pups just to give Bella a rest. These long, tiring days were equally rewarding and quickly extinguished my desires to have a baby of my own. The pups came at a perfect time in my life and fulfilled my maternal drive just fine.
When the pups were just 3 weeks old, during the first week of February, we had a real-life bonafide blizzard. Having already experienced what the blowing and drifting snow could do out here in a non-blizzard storm, I prepared much better and hunkered down for two days of alone time. Dan picked up some extra work plowing streets in Rockford, so Buster, Bella, the pups and I were left to fend for ourselves. I wasn't too hard. Snow started falling around nine pm and my morning we were snowed in. Although the snow stopped by about noon, plows didn't make an attempt to move snow until about 3 pm. As the sun was setting, I saw the first earth mover creeping down our road attempting to clear a path. Just at the edge of my property, even the giant earth mover gave up when it became stuck. The driver called for assistance and was picked up by some coworkers. The plow, however, remained in front of my house until assistance could come the next morning. School was cancelled for two days and sometime in the middle of the second day, Dan finally made it home. He had been plowing for nearly 36 hours straight. After a few hours sleep, he was recalled to start the route all over again.
After the blizzard, winter got easier on us. We had several more inches of snow here and there, but nothing significant. We got our own little routine down and settled into our comfortable life here on the farm. Dan used his days to get organized in the barn and I used nights and weekends to settle into the house.
In early March, the puppies started to leave us. Over the course of just two weeks we went from a family of 12 down to just the four of us again. Buster and Bella patiently watched as their pups disappeared one by one. By the time we were down to just a single pup, she had become part of the family. Millie, as we called her, started sleeping in bed with us and became Dan's constant companion. On the Ides of March we had a call from the couple that would become Millie's parents. They asked us to hold her for them until Saturday. In that one week time, she barely left Dan's side. On St. Patrick's Day, she even went to the bar with us to celebrate. Given her own stool to sit in, she curled up and slept through most of the party - when she wasn't getting love from all of our friends.
The week after our last pup left, we enjoyed a nice early spring warm up. With temperatures flirting with 70 mid-week, we planned a family cookout for Saturday only to have temperatures drop back to normal and hover around 50 that day. My sister and her family and my mom & stepdad came out and had fun riding the 4 wheelers and shooting guns. The prize moment of the day may have been my mom, former CeaseFire employee, shooting a handgun. I never thought I'd see the day...
With each passing day, I grow more attached to this place. I've carved out my outside niche on the front porch where I sit writing now. On this early April day we are experiencing temperatures near 80 and winds that must be around 30 mph our higher. Someone through the years erected a small garden windmill in our circle drive. Dan repaired it last week and I fear it won't survive the night. Its twirling at such a speed we could surely generate enough electricity to power our house, if only we had the necessary pieces. Down the road, if we get to stay here, I think a new fangled functional windmill is a must. Bye Bye ComEd!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Puppies Arrive
In the wee morning hours of January 9th, Bella started acting very strangely. From what I had read, I identified these behaviors as early signs that she was going into labor. Not wanting puppies to be delivered in my bed, I moved Bella to her whelping area and pulled the futon mattress out onto the floor next to her. We slept there for the rest of the night eagerly awaiting six puppies to join us.
Finally, somewhere around noon, Bella began to wimper and stare at her rear end. When I checked on her I could see the pup moving into position getting ready to make its way into the world. I turned on the web cam so friends and family could share this experience with us and sat beside Bella ready to help her if she needed it. Within minutes the first pup slithered from the birth canal and into the world. Instincts took over and Bella immediately went to work on the sac and umbilical cord. Once those were taken care of she settled in to give this newest member of our family some love and attention. After an hour, a bath, and some food, the fawn pup was pushed aside as puppy number two started into the world. Pups two through six arrived at 20 to 30 minute intervals. Each pup came without problem and Bella continued to clean and nurse each new baby as it appeared. After the sixth pup, Bella and her litter laid down to rest. It had been a long afternoon for all of us and we were ready to relax. About 45 minutes after the appearance of the final pup, I noticed Bella having contractions again. Much to my surprise, a few minutes later a 7th pup appeared. dan declared victory as he had predicted 7 puppies from day one. He and Buster took off for the store to buy a few puppy items we had forgotten while Bella and I stayed to monitor the babies.
Bella and I marveled over "our" litter and accepted congratulations from around the country as over 50 people had watched the delivery live on UStream. Exhausted and ready for some rest, Bella and I were overwhelmed when we realized an 8th round of contractions was begining. With a little more effort than the first, our finally puppy came into the world just over 4 hours after the first. I happily called Dan to tell him he had been wrong about having seven pups. I could nearly see the dollar signs lighting up in his eyes.
Finally, somewhere around noon, Bella began to wimper and stare at her rear end. When I checked on her I could see the pup moving into position getting ready to make its way into the world. I turned on the web cam so friends and family could share this experience with us and sat beside Bella ready to help her if she needed it. Within minutes the first pup slithered from the birth canal and into the world. Instincts took over and Bella immediately went to work on the sac and umbilical cord. Once those were taken care of she settled in to give this newest member of our family some love and attention. After an hour, a bath, and some food, the fawn pup was pushed aside as puppy number two started into the world. Pups two through six arrived at 20 to 30 minute intervals. Each pup came without problem and Bella continued to clean and nurse each new baby as it appeared. After the sixth pup, Bella and her litter laid down to rest. It had been a long afternoon for all of us and we were ready to relax. About 45 minutes after the appearance of the final pup, I noticed Bella having contractions again. Much to my surprise, a few minutes later a 7th pup appeared. dan declared victory as he had predicted 7 puppies from day one. He and Buster took off for the store to buy a few puppy items we had forgotten while Bella and I stayed to monitor the babies.
Bella and I marveled over "our" litter and accepted congratulations from around the country as over 50 people had watched the delivery live on UStream. Exhausted and ready for some rest, Bella and I were overwhelmed when we realized an 8th round of contractions was begining. With a little more effort than the first, our finally puppy came into the world just over 4 hours after the first. I happily called Dan to tell him he had been wrong about having seven pups. I could nearly see the dollar signs lighting up in his eyes.
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Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Farms Need Animals
Obviously farms and animals go hand in hand. Moving out to Centerville we had our beloved Boxers, Buster and Bella. Apparently the Universe felt that two dogs were not sufficient livestock for our farm. Unbeknownst to us, about the same time we signed the lease on the farmette the dogs took matters into their own hands.
A week or so before Christmas I began to suspect that my baby Bella was pregnant. We had been so careful to keep the dogs apart because, although we were planning on having puppies, we weren't ready for them yet. Being the science geek I am, I started researching dog pregnancies and development. The more I read, the more I convinced myself that Bella was experiencing a false pregnancy. Apparently its fairly common in young dogs, so I breathed a sigh of relief and postponed a vet visit a few more days.
Finally, on the Monday after Christmas, I made a vet appointment. As soon as the doctor took one look at Bella, he announced that she was indeed pregnant. To confirm his findings, took an X-ray with the hopes of identifying the number of pups we could expect.
After waiting for 10 minutes to get the results of the x-ray, the doctor returned to say it was inconclusive. He was unable to say if Bella was just too thick for a good picture or if the solution in his developer was bad. Bella endured 2 more X-rays. One to be developed immediately and one to be developed at a later time if the problem appeared to be the issue. More waiting and Bella and I were both getting antsy. A visibly frustrated vet returned to tell us he still didn't have a clear picture and would call me the next day after changing the developing solution.
Knowing that Bella was pregnant started actions in motion. There was a "nursery" to set up, supplies to buy, and research to do. In my best Gone with the Wind voice I told anyone who would listen, "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no puppies Miz Scahlett." The truth was I didn't know anything about having a litter of pups. As a kid we had one litter of standard poodels, but I just observed that time. Now I would be in it for real.
The next day the vet called back to schedule a follow-up. He felt the X-ray revealed 4-5 puppies and he wanted to give Bella another calcium injection to ensure that she didn't come down with eclampsia. When he pulled up the X-ray, we counted 6 tiny puppy skulls. Six puppies would be here within a week.
What!? Did he say a week? How did I let this get so out of hand? Puppy preparations went into high gear. Based on my research, I thought Bella's temperature was lowered to the point that would indicate New Year's puppies. Not wanting to miss a thing, or leave poor Bella to handle childbirth on her own, I set up a streaming webcam to watch her from anywhere I was. There's an app for that even and I could watch the activity in my upstairs hallway from my cell phone.
One week turned to two and on January 9th, after much waiting, Bella went into labor.
A week or so before Christmas I began to suspect that my baby Bella was pregnant. We had been so careful to keep the dogs apart because, although we were planning on having puppies, we weren't ready for them yet. Being the science geek I am, I started researching dog pregnancies and development. The more I read, the more I convinced myself that Bella was experiencing a false pregnancy. Apparently its fairly common in young dogs, so I breathed a sigh of relief and postponed a vet visit a few more days.
Finally, on the Monday after Christmas, I made a vet appointment. As soon as the doctor took one look at Bella, he announced that she was indeed pregnant. To confirm his findings, took an X-ray with the hopes of identifying the number of pups we could expect.
After waiting for 10 minutes to get the results of the x-ray, the doctor returned to say it was inconclusive. He was unable to say if Bella was just too thick for a good picture or if the solution in his developer was bad. Bella endured 2 more X-rays. One to be developed immediately and one to be developed at a later time if the problem appeared to be the issue. More waiting and Bella and I were both getting antsy. A visibly frustrated vet returned to tell us he still didn't have a clear picture and would call me the next day after changing the developing solution.
Knowing that Bella was pregnant started actions in motion. There was a "nursery" to set up, supplies to buy, and research to do. In my best Gone with the Wind voice I told anyone who would listen, "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no puppies Miz Scahlett." The truth was I didn't know anything about having a litter of pups. As a kid we had one litter of standard poodels, but I just observed that time. Now I would be in it for real.
The next day the vet called back to schedule a follow-up. He felt the X-ray revealed 4-5 puppies and he wanted to give Bella another calcium injection to ensure that she didn't come down with eclampsia. When he pulled up the X-ray, we counted 6 tiny puppy skulls. Six puppies would be here within a week.
What!? Did he say a week? How did I let this get so out of hand? Puppy preparations went into high gear. Based on my research, I thought Bella's temperature was lowered to the point that would indicate New Year's puppies. Not wanting to miss a thing, or leave poor Bella to handle childbirth on her own, I set up a streaming webcam to watch her from anywhere I was. There's an app for that even and I could watch the activity in my upstairs hallway from my cell phone.
One week turned to two and on January 9th, after much waiting, Bella went into labor.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Blow Out
After the beautiful weather on New Year's Eve day, New Year's Day brought a return to "normal" January weather in Northern Illinois. Light snow, wind, and near zero windchills swept across the farm. After staying warm and toasty most of the day, I finally decided to face the elements around 2 in the afternoon and head to town for groceries for my family's Christmas celebration.
As I set off my mind was wandering and running through the list of things I needed to pick up. Just two miles from home I heard what must have been a gunshot and my car suddenly jerked to the right - at least I think it went right first. Maybe it went left and then I pulled it back right. It all happened so fast I don't know what happened. Trying to control my now swerving car, I gingerly limped to the shoulder of the road. Glancing in my rearview mirror I saw drivers dodging pieces of plastic that were flying off of my car.
Once safely off the road, I confirmed what I already knew. The front passenger side tire had blown out. Not only had the tire blown, it had shredded itself and the apron under the front fender. My bumper was cracked and the front 1/3 of the running board was missing. Great...now to call Dan and let him know.
Cursing and muttering he made his way out to where I was stranded. He began cussing and muttering under the car and I walked to the gas station to warm up. When I returned with hot chocolate for us to share, Dan's cursing had become even more colorful. Not only was the tire shredded to pieces, but the spare was dead too. It was flat and could not be put on the car in the contition it was in.
Dan called in reinforcements and suddenly two more vehicles joined our little roadside caravan. Dan's friend Jamie arrived with his dad and son to assist with the tire swap.Moments later Jamie's mom arrived to maket he child swap. Within a minute, the tire was in the truck, the child had been transferred to his grandma's car, all adults were loaded back into cars and the three operational cars split off in thier separate directions.
Jamie lead us to his buddy's shop where we discovered that our spare tire was flat due to a large nail in it. The hole was plugged and we were off again. While the boys handled that, I called the insurance company and started the process of filing a claim.
About three hours after I initially set out to Walmart, I arrived there. On the plus side, my car was still driveable and Dan felt bad enough that he came along to help with the shopping.
As I set off my mind was wandering and running through the list of things I needed to pick up. Just two miles from home I heard what must have been a gunshot and my car suddenly jerked to the right - at least I think it went right first. Maybe it went left and then I pulled it back right. It all happened so fast I don't know what happened. Trying to control my now swerving car, I gingerly limped to the shoulder of the road. Glancing in my rearview mirror I saw drivers dodging pieces of plastic that were flying off of my car.
Once safely off the road, I confirmed what I already knew. The front passenger side tire had blown out. Not only had the tire blown, it had shredded itself and the apron under the front fender. My bumper was cracked and the front 1/3 of the running board was missing. Great...now to call Dan and let him know.
Cursing and muttering he made his way out to where I was stranded. He began cussing and muttering under the car and I walked to the gas station to warm up. When I returned with hot chocolate for us to share, Dan's cursing had become even more colorful. Not only was the tire shredded to pieces, but the spare was dead too. It was flat and could not be put on the car in the contition it was in.
Dan called in reinforcements and suddenly two more vehicles joined our little roadside caravan. Dan's friend Jamie arrived with his dad and son to assist with the tire swap.Moments later Jamie's mom arrived to maket he child swap. Within a minute, the tire was in the truck, the child had been transferred to his grandma's car, all adults were loaded back into cars and the three operational cars split off in thier separate directions.
Jamie lead us to his buddy's shop where we discovered that our spare tire was flat due to a large nail in it. The hole was plugged and we were off again. While the boys handled that, I called the insurance company and started the process of filing a claim.
About three hours after I initially set out to Walmart, I arrived there. On the plus side, my car was still driveable and Dan felt bad enough that he came along to help with the shopping.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
MidWinter Thaw
New Year's Eve day brought with it unseasonably mild temperatures. The previous day the thermometer rose into the forties and on Dec. 31 we saw 51. The heavy snow pack that had been with us through the month of December melted away. Some of the water inevitably ended up in our basement as old field stone foundations tend to leak. The rest of the snow melt soaked into the upper layers of the ground making it soft and mushy.
Dan wanted to take advantage of the nice weather and move things around in the outbuildings. The first task at hand was to reopen a sealed door on the machine shed. Remember the tale of trying to turn snowmobiles around? Getting this door open would mean we could pull into one end of the shop and out the other. When we moved out here, the landlord had all the doors to the outbuildings screwed or nailed shut for security purposes. With the property vacant for so long, he was concerned about vandals and teenagers looking to party. He had given us permission to open all of the doors, so we had done so as we needed to.
Dan set about prying nails out and unscrewing screws that held the door in place. While he twisted, pushed, pulled at hardware, and even dug some soil away from the bottom edge of the door, I walked out to the barn to open doors and turn on lights there to prepare for the items we were moving out there.
I returned to the shop to see the once sealed door wide open, and laying on the ground outside. Dan stood framed in the doorway laughing. We learned the hard way that the door hadn't been sealed shut for security purposes but that the wood along the top of it had rotted away from the brackets that held it to the track.
Leaving that mess behind, we moved the snowmobiles to their desired locations and started transferring Dan's tools from the garage to the main barn. We used the lift gate on his truck to move the heavy items. The first thing Dan wanted to move was his large rolling toolbox. Fitted with 8 drawers fully loaded with tools, this steel box weighed several hundred pounds. With little effort we got it onto the lift gate, and raised the gate just enough to clear the ground we would be covering. I walked behind the truck as we drove across the yard to make sure that the toolbox was secure. At some point, I realized I'd be in a world of hurt if the toolbox were to tip over onto me.
As Dan began his turn to back into the barn, I moved aside to let him maneuver more easily without being concerned about me behind the truck. He swung the truck around and positioned it right in front of the barn's large sliding door. I watched, in slow motion, as the lift gate of the truck hit the lip of concrete at the edge of the barn floor. The truck slammed to a halt and the toolbox flipped forward, opening drawers midair, falling to the ground, and closing the drawers once more as the entire box landed on its face just inside the barn.
A stream of cuss words streamed from the cab of the truck as Dan realized what had happened. We scratched our heads for a moment trying to figure out how to right the toolbox. Because the toolbox was on its face, we would have to contend with lifting it and trying to close the drawers at the same time. As we began to turn it over, the drawers swung open creating a counterweight that attempted to thwart our efforts and pull the box back to the floor again. Somehow, we got it upright again only to find it was balanced precariously on the same lip of concrete that had gotten us into this mess in the first place. Thankfully, we were able to muscle it over and roll it to its new home in the barn without further incident.
Standing at the barn door, I watched Dan get into the truck to head for the next load. As he revved the engine, he didn't immediately pull forward. I thought he was waiting for me so I took a step closer. At that moment, Dan spun the tires in the mud outside the door spraying mud into the barn and covering me head to toe. I retreated to the safety of the barn to allow him time to get away from the mud.
As I approached the truck again on the other side of the yard, I could hear Dan laughing from inside the truck. "Ya like that babe? Thought you could use a mud bath." Wonder what he'd do if I said I needed a pedicure.
Dan wanted to take advantage of the nice weather and move things around in the outbuildings. The first task at hand was to reopen a sealed door on the machine shed. Remember the tale of trying to turn snowmobiles around? Getting this door open would mean we could pull into one end of the shop and out the other. When we moved out here, the landlord had all the doors to the outbuildings screwed or nailed shut for security purposes. With the property vacant for so long, he was concerned about vandals and teenagers looking to party. He had given us permission to open all of the doors, so we had done so as we needed to.
Dan set about prying nails out and unscrewing screws that held the door in place. While he twisted, pushed, pulled at hardware, and even dug some soil away from the bottom edge of the door, I walked out to the barn to open doors and turn on lights there to prepare for the items we were moving out there.
I returned to the shop to see the once sealed door wide open, and laying on the ground outside. Dan stood framed in the doorway laughing. We learned the hard way that the door hadn't been sealed shut for security purposes but that the wood along the top of it had rotted away from the brackets that held it to the track.
Leaving that mess behind, we moved the snowmobiles to their desired locations and started transferring Dan's tools from the garage to the main barn. We used the lift gate on his truck to move the heavy items. The first thing Dan wanted to move was his large rolling toolbox. Fitted with 8 drawers fully loaded with tools, this steel box weighed several hundred pounds. With little effort we got it onto the lift gate, and raised the gate just enough to clear the ground we would be covering. I walked behind the truck as we drove across the yard to make sure that the toolbox was secure. At some point, I realized I'd be in a world of hurt if the toolbox were to tip over onto me.
As Dan began his turn to back into the barn, I moved aside to let him maneuver more easily without being concerned about me behind the truck. He swung the truck around and positioned it right in front of the barn's large sliding door. I watched, in slow motion, as the lift gate of the truck hit the lip of concrete at the edge of the barn floor. The truck slammed to a halt and the toolbox flipped forward, opening drawers midair, falling to the ground, and closing the drawers once more as the entire box landed on its face just inside the barn.
A stream of cuss words streamed from the cab of the truck as Dan realized what had happened. We scratched our heads for a moment trying to figure out how to right the toolbox. Because the toolbox was on its face, we would have to contend with lifting it and trying to close the drawers at the same time. As we began to turn it over, the drawers swung open creating a counterweight that attempted to thwart our efforts and pull the box back to the floor again. Somehow, we got it upright again only to find it was balanced precariously on the same lip of concrete that had gotten us into this mess in the first place. Thankfully, we were able to muscle it over and roll it to its new home in the barn without further incident.
Standing at the barn door, I watched Dan get into the truck to head for the next load. As he revved the engine, he didn't immediately pull forward. I thought he was waiting for me so I took a step closer. At that moment, Dan spun the tires in the mud outside the door spraying mud into the barn and covering me head to toe. I retreated to the safety of the barn to allow him time to get away from the mud.
As I approached the truck again on the other side of the yard, I could hear Dan laughing from inside the truck. "Ya like that babe? Thought you could use a mud bath." Wonder what he'd do if I said I needed a pedicure.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Puppies Gone Postal
The Saturday before Christmas I slept late and woke up around 10:30. Wandering downstairs I checked my Facebook page while I waited for the dogs to eat their breakfast. My aunt had posted on my wall to be watching for a package that she expected to be delivered that day.
Earlier in the week, she had sent me a tracking number so that I could follow the progress of my package as it travelled from Arizona to Illinois. I logged off Facebook and onto the USPS website to check on the delivery status. To my delight, the package had been scanned as "out for delivery" at my local post office just hours before.
As I flipped back over to Facebook, I heard the distinct crunching sound of tires on packed snow. Peering out the window, I saw the nondescript white car that I recognized as belonging to our postal carrier. Excited to see what my aunt had sent, I rushed to the back door to meet the postal carrier. By the time I reached the door, she had already dropped the package halfway up our icy walk and was retreating to the warmth of her car.
As I lifted the medium sized express box from the frozen ground, I heard the scratching of doggie claws at the screen door. I knew that I had latched it and yet, before I knew what was happening, two brown blurs of fur bolted past me to inspect the postal carrier's car.
Good naturedly, she patted the dogs on their heads through the open car window and slowly pulled around the circle drive. As she drove, Buster and Bella continued to run in large circles around her car. Always nervous about my "kids" around moving vehicles, I began calling them back tot he house. "Butt-Butt, Bella Bella! Come on lets go get Daddy" I tried. I called repeatedly but they were more interested in the visitor that was leaving without paying them enough attention.
Although not yet dressed for the day, I started to chase them down the driveway. My fuzzy green slippers offered little traction on the snowpack. Wind tore through my teal and white plaid pajama pants. My yellow BCMS Track hoodie offered little protection from the weather. As I pulled my hood up, the postal carrier turned right onto Centerville Road to continue her route. Buster and Bella paused for just a moment to look back at me and then they took off in hot pursuit of the mail carrier.
I ran back to the house to grab the car keys. "Dan! Your dogs are down by Superior Acres!" I screamed as I searched through my purse for the keys. The thud of Dan's feet hitting the bedroom floor above me said he had gotten the message loud and clear, so I headed for the garage.
"Buster! Bella!" I heard Dan's voice booming from the front porch as I fought with my arch nemesis, the garage door. Why wouldn't this damn thing cooperate? My puppies were about a quarter mile down the road by now and not looking like they had any inclination to come home.
Flying out the driveway in pursuit of the dogs, I caught a glimpse of Dan in his white boxer briefs heading back into the house. Ahhhh...good thing we don't have neighbors nearby.
Down the road, the mail lady was doing her best to coax the dogs back towards our farm. She had delivered to the next house on the route and then turned around to head back towards our place. As she started driving, she too was calling the dogs. "Come on doggies! Come on. Let's go home." She was doing her best to lead them back to our house.
By this point, the ADD beasts that they are had already lost interest in chasing the car and they were now making friends with the dogs on the next farm. Fortunately, the farmyard was enclosed with a sturdy fence and the four animals could not mingle. The neighbor dogs didn't look too excited to see company arrive so unexpectedly.
Pulling off the road, I jumped out of the car and fought with the zipper on my coat as I ran to the fence line. As my slippers sunk into calf deep snow drifts, I realized I'd never manage to get my coat zipped and pulled it tight against my body. I moved towards the fence line where Bella was checking out the neighbor dogs in hopes of making friends. Caught up in her own drama, she ignored my continued calls.
Inching closer and closer to Bella, I reached for her collar. Zing! She was off again. Damn! "Bella! Let's go for a ride. Come on girl!" She circled around me once and then danced backwards away from me again. We repeated this several times. Each time, I lunged for her collar as she got close, each time she twisted out of reach at the last nanosecond.
I'm not sure how many tries it took, but after a few minutes, I snagged Bella by her pink nylon collar and started dragging her to the car. As we walked, I shouted for Buster who was now heading off towards the remains of a cornfield at the rear of the property. "Buster! Let's go! Come On ! Time to go home."
Seeing his sister imprisoned and being dragged off towards the car, he did just the opposite of what logic would dictate. He ran right towards me to see what I was doing to Bella. That, and I think he wanted to taunt her that he was still free. As I opened the car door to put Bella inside, Buster pushed past me, nearly knocking me out of my frictionless slippers, and jumped into the car. In one smooth push he was inside and in the rear cargo area ready to go. Bella wasn't quite as eager to head home and had to be lifted into the backseat.
Waving a thanks to the postal carrier who had been watching this play out, I headed for home while she turned her car around once more and continued her route.
As I let the dogs out of the car at home, I held my breath as the looked towards the road once more. Only once they were safely inside the house, did I breathe a sigh of relief.
Earlier in the week, she had sent me a tracking number so that I could follow the progress of my package as it travelled from Arizona to Illinois. I logged off Facebook and onto the USPS website to check on the delivery status. To my delight, the package had been scanned as "out for delivery" at my local post office just hours before.
As I flipped back over to Facebook, I heard the distinct crunching sound of tires on packed snow. Peering out the window, I saw the nondescript white car that I recognized as belonging to our postal carrier. Excited to see what my aunt had sent, I rushed to the back door to meet the postal carrier. By the time I reached the door, she had already dropped the package halfway up our icy walk and was retreating to the warmth of her car.
As I lifted the medium sized express box from the frozen ground, I heard the scratching of doggie claws at the screen door. I knew that I had latched it and yet, before I knew what was happening, two brown blurs of fur bolted past me to inspect the postal carrier's car.
Good naturedly, she patted the dogs on their heads through the open car window and slowly pulled around the circle drive. As she drove, Buster and Bella continued to run in large circles around her car. Always nervous about my "kids" around moving vehicles, I began calling them back tot he house. "Butt-Butt, Bella Bella! Come on lets go get Daddy" I tried. I called repeatedly but they were more interested in the visitor that was leaving without paying them enough attention.
Although not yet dressed for the day, I started to chase them down the driveway. My fuzzy green slippers offered little traction on the snowpack. Wind tore through my teal and white plaid pajama pants. My yellow BCMS Track hoodie offered little protection from the weather. As I pulled my hood up, the postal carrier turned right onto Centerville Road to continue her route. Buster and Bella paused for just a moment to look back at me and then they took off in hot pursuit of the mail carrier.
I ran back to the house to grab the car keys. "Dan! Your dogs are down by Superior Acres!" I screamed as I searched through my purse for the keys. The thud of Dan's feet hitting the bedroom floor above me said he had gotten the message loud and clear, so I headed for the garage.
"Buster! Bella!" I heard Dan's voice booming from the front porch as I fought with my arch nemesis, the garage door. Why wouldn't this damn thing cooperate? My puppies were about a quarter mile down the road by now and not looking like they had any inclination to come home.
Flying out the driveway in pursuit of the dogs, I caught a glimpse of Dan in his white boxer briefs heading back into the house. Ahhhh...good thing we don't have neighbors nearby.
Down the road, the mail lady was doing her best to coax the dogs back towards our farm. She had delivered to the next house on the route and then turned around to head back towards our place. As she started driving, she too was calling the dogs. "Come on doggies! Come on. Let's go home." She was doing her best to lead them back to our house.
By this point, the ADD beasts that they are had already lost interest in chasing the car and they were now making friends with the dogs on the next farm. Fortunately, the farmyard was enclosed with a sturdy fence and the four animals could not mingle. The neighbor dogs didn't look too excited to see company arrive so unexpectedly.
Pulling off the road, I jumped out of the car and fought with the zipper on my coat as I ran to the fence line. As my slippers sunk into calf deep snow drifts, I realized I'd never manage to get my coat zipped and pulled it tight against my body. I moved towards the fence line where Bella was checking out the neighbor dogs in hopes of making friends. Caught up in her own drama, she ignored my continued calls.
Inching closer and closer to Bella, I reached for her collar. Zing! She was off again. Damn! "Bella! Let's go for a ride. Come on girl!" She circled around me once and then danced backwards away from me again. We repeated this several times. Each time, I lunged for her collar as she got close, each time she twisted out of reach at the last nanosecond.
I'm not sure how many tries it took, but after a few minutes, I snagged Bella by her pink nylon collar and started dragging her to the car. As we walked, I shouted for Buster who was now heading off towards the remains of a cornfield at the rear of the property. "Buster! Let's go! Come On ! Time to go home."
Seeing his sister imprisoned and being dragged off towards the car, he did just the opposite of what logic would dictate. He ran right towards me to see what I was doing to Bella. That, and I think he wanted to taunt her that he was still free. As I opened the car door to put Bella inside, Buster pushed past me, nearly knocking me out of my frictionless slippers, and jumped into the car. In one smooth push he was inside and in the rear cargo area ready to go. Bella wasn't quite as eager to head home and had to be lifted into the backseat.
Waving a thanks to the postal carrier who had been watching this play out, I headed for home while she turned her car around once more and continued her route.
As I let the dogs out of the car at home, I held my breath as the looked towards the road once more. Only once they were safely inside the house, did I breathe a sigh of relief.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Boys and Toys
As a teacher, I often hear my colleagues lament that imagination is dead. I now have evidence to the contrary. Unfortunately, the creative play I witnessed was among twenty-something year old men and not the children in our classrooms.
The day after the blizzard that shut down Centerville Road, I called in sick from work, still unable to leave our driveway. At some point later in the day, Dan's friend Jamie showed up to "work" with Dan in the shop. Within minutes of his arrival, snowmobiles burst forth from the shop and started doing loops around the yard and pasture. From the kitchen window, I could see both "men" grinning ear to ear as they chased one another around our property.
At various times, I saw each snowmobile get stuck in a drift somewhere on our property. The driver of the second snowmobile would approach dismount, and let the driver of the first use his sled to pull the first from the drift. This continued for quite some time. Eventually, the snowmobiles were put back in the shed.
Playtime over, I imagined the boys were starting whatever task had called Jamie out to the farm in the first place. I was corrected by the roar of four wheelers coming to life. The guys had traded one vehicle for another and were repeating the scene that had played out on snowmobiles with four wheelers. With the four wheelers, they attempted to climb the large drift that I had abandoned my four wheeler in the day before. (Mine was now free and part of the mayhem.). Stuck. Duh! Hadn't I proved the day before that this couldn't be done?
Watching from the kitchen window, a very maternal instinct came over me. I felt as though I were watching my own little boys (which I don't have) playing in the yard. The movie reel in my mind fast forwarded to some point in the unknown future when I could watch the sons of these men playing in our farm yard. Then the projector got stuck. Damn it! Dan hadn't completed a thing on his honey do list. Like any modern mom, I text him to come in and finish a few tasks for me. Like Beaver and Eddie Haskell, the boys tromped into the house, completed the most important of the tasks I had assigned and then ran off back into the snowy fields.
I had to leave shortly thereafter, and as I pulled out of the driveway, I saw two four wheelers tethered together by a webbing lead attempting to pull the larger free from another snow drift. I shook my head and started off for town.
A few days later, I mentioned the events of that afternoon to Dan. Casually, I stated that it seemed they were actually TRYING to get things stuck. "We were," was his reply. It turns out that the scene I had witnessed was actually and elaborate game with rules to be followed. And like with any game, the boys were finding loopholes in their own rules.
The object of the game was to get your vehicle of choice stuck in a snow drift. To free it, the rider had to use the same type of vehicle and his own man power. So, if they got a snowmobile stuck, they had to use a snowmobile to get it unstuck. Freeing a four wheeler had to be done with another four wheeler. Tying a four wheeler to the bumper of a truck and using the winch on the four wheeler to pull itself out did not constitute cheating because all the power provided came from the four wheeler.
Creative play is not dead. It is alive and well in the young men surrounding me. I obviously did not play this game. Being stuck in a snowdrift had been the bane of my existence the day before and yet Dan and Jamie found a way to enjoy it. Boys!
The day after the blizzard that shut down Centerville Road, I called in sick from work, still unable to leave our driveway. At some point later in the day, Dan's friend Jamie showed up to "work" with Dan in the shop. Within minutes of his arrival, snowmobiles burst forth from the shop and started doing loops around the yard and pasture. From the kitchen window, I could see both "men" grinning ear to ear as they chased one another around our property.
At various times, I saw each snowmobile get stuck in a drift somewhere on our property. The driver of the second snowmobile would approach dismount, and let the driver of the first use his sled to pull the first from the drift. This continued for quite some time. Eventually, the snowmobiles were put back in the shed.
Playtime over, I imagined the boys were starting whatever task had called Jamie out to the farm in the first place. I was corrected by the roar of four wheelers coming to life. The guys had traded one vehicle for another and were repeating the scene that had played out on snowmobiles with four wheelers. With the four wheelers, they attempted to climb the large drift that I had abandoned my four wheeler in the day before. (Mine was now free and part of the mayhem.). Stuck. Duh! Hadn't I proved the day before that this couldn't be done?
Watching from the kitchen window, a very maternal instinct came over me. I felt as though I were watching my own little boys (which I don't have) playing in the yard. The movie reel in my mind fast forwarded to some point in the unknown future when I could watch the sons of these men playing in our farm yard. Then the projector got stuck. Damn it! Dan hadn't completed a thing on his honey do list. Like any modern mom, I text him to come in and finish a few tasks for me. Like Beaver and Eddie Haskell, the boys tromped into the house, completed the most important of the tasks I had assigned and then ran off back into the snowy fields.
I had to leave shortly thereafter, and as I pulled out of the driveway, I saw two four wheelers tethered together by a webbing lead attempting to pull the larger free from another snow drift. I shook my head and started off for town.
A few days later, I mentioned the events of that afternoon to Dan. Casually, I stated that it seemed they were actually TRYING to get things stuck. "We were," was his reply. It turns out that the scene I had witnessed was actually and elaborate game with rules to be followed. And like with any game, the boys were finding loopholes in their own rules.
The object of the game was to get your vehicle of choice stuck in a snow drift. To free it, the rider had to use the same type of vehicle and his own man power. So, if they got a snowmobile stuck, they had to use a snowmobile to get it unstuck. Freeing a four wheeler had to be done with another four wheeler. Tying a four wheeler to the bumper of a truck and using the winch on the four wheeler to pull itself out did not constitute cheating because all the power provided came from the four wheeler.
Creative play is not dead. It is alive and well in the young men surrounding me. I obviously did not play this game. Being stuck in a snowdrift had been the bane of my existence the day before and yet Dan and Jamie found a way to enjoy it. Boys!
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