I’ve been feverishly working on a post about Turkeys in the Raw. However, my gerbil-powered laptop (the “Abacus 2000”) has been working with a fever. Is the hard drive just malingering or will it commit to crashing this week? Stay tuned to find out. So in the meantime, here’s a sneak peek at the next photo bloated post.
Micron plays chicken with, well, that’s actually a turkey, Mr. Mike.
A photo memory of a gorgeous Saturday morning walk at our Englewood metro park. After Micron played a robust game of follow that smell (I think he won), I spent the rest of the morning brushing out teensy little burrs out of his pretty Pantene conditioned coat. ‘Salright, it was still worth it to have our re-bonding time.
It was the first Halloween at our new house and I was completely jazzed about taking my favorite kid through the neighborhood to get a taste of the local culture. Which sounds kinda exotic, doesn’t it? Local culture, like the shops in Agora or something? Nah, still southwestern Ohio, we just moved from a small farming village to middle class suburbia. And compared to where we were, yeah we moved up a notch on the food chain.
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| A Halloween from happier times (and I can’t find a photo of the alien demon) |
Anyway, I’ve got the evening all planned out. Crock pot chili’s been simmering all day and I leave just a few minutes early from work to pick the kid up to get him dressed in his evil space alien demon costume. The kid turned six years old that year and loved this Halloween stuff almost as much as his ever so slightly unbalanced mama.
Or that’s what I thought.
Let’s go, let’s go, kid! Are ya ready? Grab my hand, my adorable little alien demon, and let’s hit this fine town.
But the kid is just poking along. C’mon! I say. I shoulda dressed you like a cigarrette, cuz I’m just taking you out for a drag! Put a song in your step, kiddo, this is a big neighborhood now and we only have two hours.
We hit one house, then another. At the third, he’s ready to go home. Holy cow, are ya serious? I’ve got something akin to an endorphin rush happening; I wanna go the whole two Beggar Night hours allotted to us.
But there’s no persuading the alien demon. His heart just isn’t into it. Fine, I sigh,swallowing disappointment. Let’s go home and split up your winnings, all three of them. Back home and he’s sent upstairs to change out of his costume before dinner. I’m ladling chili into soup bowls when I hear him call from the top of the stairs, Ma! Look! This is bad!
Wha? Now I like my halloween creepy, but them’s some ominous words, son. I rush to see what he’s talking about.
And spots! All over his six year old self. He’s completely broken out in chicken pox, he is.
Now it’s late October and as my usual style, I’d negated my nomination for the Mother of the Year award somewhere back in the first quarter. But this? How bad of a momma am I? Ugh, don’t answer that. I already know.
Ah, those Halloween memories. After that misstep, things went up from there. The kid and I spent many a season carving scary pumpkins, watching Casper and masquerading through our neighborhood until he finally outgrew me. So now he’s off at college and the Husband and I are left to our own quiet thoughts. And three rather wary dogs.
So what to do without my favorite kid around on Halloween this year? Well, we could just stay home and watch scary movies or better yet, put the working cape on Yaxley and head out to the local pumpkin farm.
This is Yax’s first Halloween, so we can’t expect him to be a pumpkin expert right off. But we did encourage him to pick out something nice.
That’s a good choice, kiddo. But let’s find something a little bigger than your head.
And yep, that one is indeed is larger than your adorable dog noggin. Let’s keep looking shall we? How ’bout we check out what’s in the punkin field?
No, Yax, I will not toss you a big orange ball.
It’s our lucky day, cuz it’s a two-fer special at the pumpkin farm today. We take these veggies home and I go all old school on them. No templates or tracings. Just free hand carving and some dark thoughts to create something that looks like it will take down the squirrel population around here.
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| Who is that handsome devil? |
We’re asked by CCI, and rightfully so, to keep the impressionable young pups home on Beggar’s night. Anyway, it’s a tradition to take Jager (please don’t make me a banana again) out to enjoy the trick or treaters in the neighborhood.
But a Harvest Party in the office is not a bit scary for my sensitive pups. The boys borrowed some costumes from Jager’s stash (take them all, Jager says) and we walked the office neighborhood scoping for treats.
Micron and Yaxley were especially pleased with the attention, their very favorite “treat”, which was topped off the new dog toys they scored from their friends in HR.
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| Actually, food lady, there’s not enuf biscuits in the world for this. |
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| Check us for spots, willya? |
While I’m putting the finishing touches on the last of the fall vacation posts, sit back and enjoy this shot of Micron getting a taste of the season. Or something.
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| Yaxley says smells have a color. |
Got another mind blowing factoid for y’all today. Turns out that dogs can actually see colors; their world isn’t just shades of grey as we’ve been led to believe by modern folklore. Now they are indeed colorblind in the literal sense that their optical spectrum filters out reds and greens, which could be why my little fuzzy friends don’t get so excited about our annual leaf-peeping road trip adventures.
For curiosity’s sake, here’s a color spectrum from a study performed at the University of California, Santa Barbara that tested the colorblind theory. The full article from Psychology Today can be found here. It goes on explaining about cones and such. What? Not enuf info for you? Well then, grab a cup of coffee and click here to read the actual study results.
| Image from Psychology Today’s Canine Corner (click here for full article) |
It’s a long way rattling down the highways to North Carolina from our Hershey PA campsite and we are compelled to stop for the occasional bio break for the dogs. They leave their mark in three states before we even make it to the northern border of North Carolina. Ah, but now we come across a scenic overlook off the highway. Time for a mental break for us human beans.
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| Whacha all looking at? |
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| Micron just doesn’t get it. |
And we find ourselves reminded again to always have CCI brochures on hand. Yaxley all handsome in his training cape attracts attention and some in depth conversations with the other leaf peepers hanging around the scenic overlook. I step away and leave the Husband to talk with these nice folk. He’s the people-person, I’m the socially awkward nerd. We are a fine team, we are.
Micron and Yaxley know what’s coming next. Food Lady is messing with that black box again, so it’s time to sit and put on a doggy smile. Even the onlookers remark on what pros these two are as they pose for the camera. They’ve done this before, haven’t they?
Yes, my leaf peepin’ friends. Yes they have.
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| Both sides are my “good side”, you know. |
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| I think Micron smells like a color. Can you guess what it is? |
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| Smile Yax! Dang, you’re so serious. |
Because the daylight hours are shorter this time of year, we stop before we can reach Asheville. The Husband prefers not to drive the moving house through unfamiliar territory in the dark and I have total buy-in on that. That it’s tougher to do the RV hookups by flashlight nails the choice down. I’ll go hookup the water and electric now. Not at the same time, I hope, Honey.
We consult the camping guide and select Fort Chiswell RV Park to rest our weary wheels. By the time the dogs are fed, watered and toileted, then our dinner is set steaming upon the dinette table, it’s nightfall. Not a good time to walk the campground and check out our surroundings. Besides, we can get WIFI here and I’ve got to check the farm. Right, I mean email.
But the next morning, the pups and I are met with some glorious natural wonders.
These next set of photos were taken from the dog run area. A light fog, dewy grass and the sunrise all made for some dreamy shots.
Next post: We take a look at how the other half lives.
Go. Do. Be Dog. 