The Unheralded Return

After a 4 year hiatus, I have returned. 

I would love to be able to recount tales of adventures and weight loss but, alas, that is not to be. I have, however, been laid off. So, this time is ripe with the possibility of new beginnings. 

I am weary. Weary of the rat race. So, I am withdrawing from it a little. Dabbling in a new dog-walking venture in the hopes that it will blossom into a second - albeit, unlucrative - career. 


Andy - you remember Andy, don't you? He is 6 and slowing down some but still game for running 4 miles a day.

I have begun grooming Andy myself - something he prefers since he gets to lie on my lap for the duration. I cannot say that I enjoy it - it is back-breaking labor - but, I am free to pretty him up as I desire.

I finally scalped him. The summer heat was too brutal. He loved it! Zoom, zoom, zoom!




Sheilagh, my lovely, lovely girl, died this January and broke my heart. She was 18 years old. I think she lived longer than she wanted just because she knew that I needed her so. She was a born nurturer to the last. What do you say about someone who has been with you for 18 years and only got better with age? And I wonder.....how do I measure up? Am I improving with age? Are things that are fine and good in me crystallizing? Concentrating? Or are they sinking like sediment to the bottom? We have a choice. Animals can show us how to age with grace if we can be open to the lesson.





I have begun painting. My very first painting  was - you guessed it - of Andy. I am currently working on a landscape that was derailed when I threw out my back from too much road biking. I love biking past all of the the farmland in my neighborhood. It's as if I have set my spirit free.

I continue in my book club and, on my own, am reading The Road to Coorain by Jill Conway and A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson - while riding my stationary bike (I'm not ready for road biking, yet). I picked both books for their paperback comfort while pedaling. 

The Road to Coorain  is an autobiography of the first woman president of Smith college and her life growing up in the Australia bush. Very well written. 

A Walk in the Woods is a hysterical travelogue of the author's experience walking the Appalachian Trial. Do DO read it if you get the chance!

All in all, things are contemplative here. I am growing tomatoes and red peppers. Cooking curries and baking brownies. Hiking and biking and writing and painting. Unfortunately, none of this pays the bills, so I'm trying to drum up some pups to walk.

My very first gig is with the most adorable 11 week old wheaten-poodle mix named Chloe. Such a doll- baby. And right down the street from me. She and Andy will be the best of friends, I'm sure.

If this prose sounds sluggish, it is because I am sluggish today. Every so often I wake up a slug. It is the oddest thing, really. Like something out of Kafka. Andy tolerates this with forbearance - and the knowledge that he will have a day without running. It tends to coincide with good weather, too, which seems monstrously unfair. I push through rain and sleet and blazing, scalding sun, only to curl up into a ball when the weather is spectacularly beautiful. I unfurl myself only to eat. I hate to tell you all that I've eaten today. An awe-inspiring carb load. The mother of all carb loads.

The scales will be my arch nemesis for the rest of the week and tomorrow will be frightfully busy as I rush to do Thursday's errands along with today's.