Momomama
Elizabeth reminded me that winter is just about half over up here! This weekend, 20 degrees felt like 50 degrees. The sun was bright, and I worked up a sweat snowshoeing in just a thermal shirt and a fleece. The heat didn't kick on every five minutes, and the iciciles kept dropping off the roof. Even Mo stayed on the porch for ten minutes without begging to come inside. At one point, I spotted him sitting in the sunshine, with his spine stretched as straight as it could be!
Then this morning it was minus 12 again.
Yesterday, I decided to google my name along with a few choice, pardon the pun, words about well, choice. I have been blogged about as if I am some wonky pundit to contend with. Of course, neither of the two people who blogged about my comment on Hillary's speech agree with me, or got what I was saying. Probably because I wasn't quoted very clearly. What I actually said was the the principal emotion we see among patients who have chosen abortion is relief. Not that we are relieved we have the right to choose. (Which we are.) ANYWAY. Her speech has really stirred things up and is starting a really good debate about abortion rights, the Democrats and the nature of compromise.
But enough about THAT. Last night Bill made pizza with spinach, onions, artichokes and gorgonzola cheese. We love him.
Momo is back to his normal self, and this weekend the temps might get above 5! Which means we won't have to spend much of our mornings running around the house unfreezing pipes with a blow dryer.
Momo had the gas. That's all. What a baby! Geeeeeeeeez. But he did get to visit the vet who has such nice young ladies working for her, and Mo loves the young ladies.
But enough about him. I was quoted in the NEW YORK TIMES!!!!!!!!!!!
Page two of this article!
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/25/nyregion/25clinton.html
I am FAMOUS!
Poor Motor Mo got into something. That something was in the trash, which he managed to get through two doors that are usually closed to get to. So when i got home last night, Young Zoolander, who had offered to feed and empty the dog while I worked late, informed me that Mo wouldn't eat, or even really move off of his bed.
This morning he pooped, but he's still completely lathargic and seems to be in a lot of pain and is limping. So he'll go to the vet's office this afternoon. Poor Motor Mo.
In the meantime, I am expecting a plumber to come fix our broken pipe and leaking toilets at around teh same time Mo has to go to the vet. And I am still waiting for my heating oil to be delivered. If it doesn't come soon, I will surely be running out when it's minus 20.
So, I'm broke.
Sigh.
But in good news, by some miracle, my pipes did not freeze last night, like they did Tuesday into Wednesday.
I spent all of Saturday and all of today, so far, at one of our other offices, supervising the installation of new flooring. Which means I have had no email and no one to talk to ALL DAY. Saturday, Bill came with me and I introduced him to the beauty of the internet. He spent all day looking at fishing and hunting websites. As we pulled out of the driveway at the end of the day he declared..."I need my own computer." I reminded him that he HAS a computer, which he has never turned on and which I tried to get him to connect to the internet but he said no when he found out it was not free. I also reminded him that we live not a 60 second walk from the town library which has LOTS of internet.
Our IT guy is trying to solve the problem which keeps me from accessing our server and my email. Every once in a while he'll start to do things on the computer, and I can watch what he's doing as the mouse moves around the screen and he opens and closes things and types.
Bill is off to Long Island today, to take one of his regular clients duck hunting.
I am prepparing myself for the coldest weather yet. Double digits below zero. And then add the windchill.
This weekend I acted like someone who might have New Year's Resolution of being more active. Good thing I don't, though, because a day of cross country skiing followed by a day of snow shoeing would be a really hard act to follow.
Snowshoeing is a piece of cake, once you let go of the notion that you won't be sinking into the snow at all and accept that the movement is much closer to slogging than it is to levitating. It's fun, too, because the Momo can come along, as there's no real way he could drag me over a cliff or anything. (That's the reason we don't ski with him.)
Skiing though. Not as easy as it seemed as a youngster. First of all, I probably should not have gone to a place with groomed trails, as I was part of the very small percentage of skiers who were slowing sliding along in parallel tracks. 90% of the skiers were skating by, looking like members of Swedish Nordic Team. Every once in a while, a really small child would skate past me, and I would decide that I too could ski in the duck footed, bow legged way. I can't.
I can, however, do the splits. So that's a neat discovery.
Momo must have the cabin fever, because he ran off twice last night. He pulled a Houdini and managed to break free of the swivel snap that connects his lead off the porch to his color. Twice. He's just not that smart, so I think the snap's integrity is at play. And twice meant that two sets of tracks in the snow, heading in opposite directions, caused much panic and stress.
The first time, he was lured back easily with a shake of the box o' treats. But the second time called for a flashlight, hat, boots, stress and anxiety. Also plaintive wailing of his name....'MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Mooooooooooooooossseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!"
No dice. I finally figured out that he must have headed away from the river, a natural barrier because he hates ices, and toward the woods, which are FUN FUN FUN. After about half an hour of cold cold 10pm temperatures, I decided to sit on the porch and wait. That's when I saw him nosing around the big white house across Springfield Road. I made sure no cars were coming and called him! "hey Buddy! Come get a treat!"
And that's when the bastard pulled the classic dog barrelling toward you and then fake out trick. He took off across the field, veering closer to the busier road. He stopped to pee, so I ran, full out and tackled the little son of a bitch.
I leashed him up and dragged him back to the house, so pissed he fucked with me (because you just KNOW he was doing that dodging on purpose...) and so glas to have him back in hand.
We now have a girl! It will be nice to have another female presence around...and our girl is pretty cool too. She's young, probably Young Zoolander's age, and is the first female snowmaker, like, EVER at the mountain. She's very sporty and she spins her own yarn too.
I am in the midst of knitting like thirty baby sweaters, blankets and ponchos for my pal V's baby girl -- due in June.
Bill's boat came in yesterday morning, with a full hold, and plans to go out again later today. They changed plans last week and went South, to fish Hudson Canyon which is an extension of the Hudson river valley offshore. He called me from the boat over the weekend. While we were talking he saw a school of dolphins.
He made more money last week than he would have in SEVEN weeks as a snow maker. Let's hope the market stays high. All you meat eaters....order the calamari!
Three boys live upstairs in my house. I find two of them extremely annoying but the other? I want to eat him, with plenty of whipped cream, for dessert because he is just that sweet and yummy. He is a 19 year old male model. The other two, a Canadian postman and a really dopey and unkempt ice climber, just can not compete with the sweetness and darling that is young Zoolander.
Last night, Zoolander cooked himself dinner (he is a culinary student) and sat in the kitchen talking to me for a whole hour. He told me fascinating tales of the dogs he had growing up, his efforts to raise money for his high school crew team, and the quiet majesty of the Japanese cooking knife. Okay, none of this was fascinating at all, in fact I found my mind wandering off several times, to places where young Zoolander was nowhere to be found. But still, he is AWFULLY cute and considers himself to be an artiste of many media.
I almost dug out the old pictures I have of Bill, from back when he was approached to model in the late eighties. Someone set him up with a photographer who took a few shots of him leaning back on his Harley, all leather jacketed and tan. The pictures have a whole Swayze vibe to them, and whenever I see them I laugh uncontrollably.
I am sure that someday, Zoolander's significant other will come across pictures from a campaign that he shot for the really big young adult chain that is not Abercrombie and Fitch nor the Gap and laugh his or her ass off too. Because the only thing funnier than a guy trying to look like Patrick Swayze is a guy trying to look like a Backstreet Boy.
