The frost's icy touch, and a temperature low of 26˚F, finally put the quietus on the zinnias and several other plants which had heretofore still been managing to serve up a bloom or two following recent nights in the lower 30s. The big, leathery leaves on the canna lilies, which were green yesterday, are a curling olive-brown this morning…meaning sometime this week I'll have to shear their stalks and dig up the roots for winter storage in the cool laundry room.We worked on our woodpile over the weekend, splitting some larger chunks we missed last fall—though several need cutting to a shorter length, and others were too long to fit into the splitter and will have to be cut in half before we can split them. I'm probably going to have to buy a new chainsaw this year. My old one is in excellent overall shape, but is getting hard to start—at least hard for me. My aptitude for successful tinkering with any infernal combustion engine is pretty much on par with my retention of high-school calculus. It may not be cheaper to buy new, but it's less wearing on my nerves and sanity.
Moon-the-Dog got sick last night, throwing up several times until there was just nothing more left to come out. The most recent episode was about 4:00 a.m. I've been up most of the night, sitting in the front room with her so Myladylove could get some sleep and be able to manage work. I don't know whether Moon ate something she shouldn't have while outdoors yesterday, or if this is another, more serious problem.
She's been okay so far this morning—no additional episode—but I've only fed her a bit of a scrambled egg and maybe a teaspoon of canned dog food. Her appetite seems good. Had I given it to her, she would have eaten her usual bowl-full—but I figured it best to go slow and see how she did with just a bite or two.
I'm worried and feeling pretty awful from my own lack of sleep. I love my faithful dog dearly. She's been there with me through some of the worst and best times of my life. But to everything there is a season…and Moon is 15 years old. Time always wins.
18 comments:
HI GHRIZZ - oh my, tears just overflowed as you spoke of Moon and her aging body - having been by your side for 15 years, and now, well, like you said, time always wins.
Oh Grizz....... :-(
Now, about that frost - yup here too, a few weeks ago - not much flower any where around here and all the vegetable plants are withered. everything is receding, going into hiding until Spring. Winter is truly a reflective time to be still and ponder what was, what is and what we hope and pray will be......Winter's stillness is much needed - without it no new life will emerge.
Love to you always my friend
Gail
peace....
Griz: I love first frost photos--and yours are really neat. Here, I've had frost but it wasn't hard enough for really good frost photos yet. Weird, but Dog was sick this weekend too--out both ends. He was better by Sunday afternoon, but I don't think he's back to normal yet. And like Moon-the-Dog he was still chasing cats and would have gobbled up everything he could reach, even so.
Gail…
Thank you for your kind words…I'm just at a low point right now after the long night, and don't mean to make too big an issue of things—but your comments help.
I like that quiet, reflective quality of winter—and I like this untidy latter half of autumn for its lovely light and the way a natural peace seems to steal over the land. There's great wonder afoot now.
I hope you're holding on comfortably and that the coming storm will be less bothersome than predicted. As always…
Carolyn H…
I'm hoping whatever was going on with Moon will pass, and your own deal with Dog encourages me. I just fed Moon a bit more about an hour ago, and so far, so good. She's fairly lethargic, though—of course it could be due to the night we spent.
Kind of amazes me you haven't had a real "frosting" frost already. It's sunny here now, but still a chilly 41˚F. The river is all a'sparkle, though.
Do hope dear old Moon is feeling better Grizz. Don't forget lots of little sips of water - if she won't lap it up then give it to her on a spoon. Such bouts of sickness make for such dehydration.
I love your frost photos - and I love those words'amelioration' and 'quietus' - hugs to Moon.
Weaver…
So far, so good re. Moon. She's drinking water on her own, and eating what little I'm giving her—so I'm optimistic whatever the cause, the worst is over. Time, I guess, will tell.
"Amelioration" and "quietus" are words worth trotting out from the closet when needed. I'm particularly fond of the latter example because, on my Mother's side of the family, "quietus" was often used as a sort of mild, good-humored threat—especially to youngsters, and particularly by my Aunt Grace…as in, "If you young'ns don't stop shrieking and running up and down the basement stairs, I'll come down there myself and put the quietus on ya!" And the word was ALWAYS drawn out into three distinct syllables: qui-eet-us!
"Time always wins." No truer words are often spoken. Peace.
Giggles…
Equally true for mountains or men…and in my own case, which I was reminded of standing in an hour-long voting line this morning, rather painfully.
...she is reminded more often than she cares to admit. Thoughts are with you. Hope your wait was well worth it....
Giggles…
Moon seems to be over whatever that was. In fact, today, for the first time in a long, long time, I left the truck's door opened while I was loading some stuff prior to leaving to shop some materials for a project…and when I turned around to see where she'd gotten, to, I found her inside the truck snoozing on the seat waiting to go for a ride and walk. The incredible part is, she's not been able to jump into the pickup (or onto the bed in the house) for months; I always have to give her a boost or complete lift to get her into the truck. So she got her ride and walk, spent a couple hours out and about, and I curtailed most of my shopping for another day. She's tired, and will probably be stiff and sore tomorrow…but the, I'm stiff and sore already, and I don't usually need a boost into the truck and can still clamber into bed unassisted. So I think it was a great day—and I'm so very grateful. Yeah, the wait was worth it.
Your header photo is really lovely, Grizz, but, of course, my first thoughts are about Moon the Dog. My heart aches for both you and Moon, because, like so many others, I've been there, and I know how heart-wrenching this can be. Here's hoping that this will be nothing more than a temporary setback, that Moon's condition will improve, and that the weight of fear will be lifted from your shoulders. Every moment with our beloved dogs is a moment of true grace.
George…
Thank you, George—and as I happily reported to Giggles (above), Moon not only seems her old self once again, but yesterday enjoyed a nice ride and subsequent ramble around a local pond, after getting into the pickup on her own for the first time in months. Nor does she seem to be suffering any aftereffects today. Of course a "lively" day for a senior dog (15 years old) is not the same lively day as a few years back when she was a 65-pound giant Jack Russell pup, leaping and bouncing, jumping, dancing, a furry ball of energy going a mile-a-minute in all directions at once. (Minus the fur, the same could be said for yours truly.) So, for now, she's okay. And I don't have to tell you how much I grateful I am to report that.
;-)
Giggles…
:-)))
So glad Moon is recovered and doing well!
Jayne…
Me, too. Thank you.
how are you feeling? I emailed you a couple of weeks ago guess it dissappeared into vapours.
AfromTO…
You did? Emailed or commented here? Either way I didn't see it. I would most certainly have responded.
To answer you question, I'm feeling good…harried, behind on stuff that needs doing, but otherwise okay.
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