It’s all the dog’s fault

Sorry for the complete blackout today.  I meant to come up to my office, read the paper and other stuff and blog.  What happened instead was that the kids went to play with neighbors, so I sat down for a minute with a book.  The dog jumped on my lap and, as always happens when that warm little body intersects with mine, I fell asleep.  I feel very refreshed, but now have to do yardwork with my husband.  To be honest, all the yard work would be much more rewarding if the kids would actually play back there, but there still is virtue in making it an attractive space (which it is).

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Comments

  1. greg says

    Gardens serve many purposes (which is why we have them), providing space for the kids to play is one purpose, providing space for the parents to be together is another. Why, Bookworm, in the absence of the former, do you trivialize the latter?

  2. says

    I wasn’t aware that I was trivializing anything. As it is, though, I dislike trolling through the backyard looking through dog poop, broken toys, and old garden equipment, which was what I was doing. It doesn’t rank high on the together time scale. As always, though, Greg, you do manage to think the worst of me.

  3. greg says

    Bookworm, you’re an advocate of extreme positions that challenge the American experiment (and, in addition, you often talk about your personal life, which, in the greater scheme of things, is what got my attention first, re: ‘Why’s this woman so hard on her kids’ school?’, and how come she sometimes uses her blog to diss her husband?). As is usually true, the personal becomes political … But let’s focus on your unnerving radicalism. Just this morning, Salon published a cogent overview of the authoritarian conservatism you promote:

    http://www.salon.com/opinion/feature/2007/02/19/conason/

  4. Zhombre says

    You take the prize, Greg. You assume BW and others who post here are authoritarian personalities, and that gives you the right if not the mission to post bully, insult, and condemn with a holier than thou attitude and post your own often inscrutably obtuse prose. To hell with you. Look at your motives. I think you project. I think you are the unnerving radical, and that you have some real problems of both intelligence and empathy. Heal thyself, kid.

  5. says

    So, Bookworm, you’re claiming the dog ate your potential blog posts? Where’s ASPCA and PETA when we need them?

    Greg could use their help too. “Unnerving radicalism”, Greg? For merely stating the obvious about millions of people breaking our laws? So you think the “American experiment” involves the indiscriminant entry of any/all who wish to live here? Where the hell did you concoct that idea? And lighten-up, Dude. The Lady’s tag says “Silly Stuff”. Doesn’t really beg for serious, Kool-Aid-induced vitriol. Her blog; she can post anything she damn well pleases.

  6. Danny Lemieux says

    We, too, have a therapeutic dog. However, in mid-winter, the yard poo simply gets buried in the snow and naturally decomposes when it melts under assault from spring rains. Our yard is my therapy. Nothing like planting a bird habitat and watching it grow while sipping a cool Sauvignon Blanc at sundown – during the spring, summer and fall, anyway. You should try that, Greg. Don’t worry so much and try to be happy. That’s what we “authoritarians” like to do in our spare time.

  7. Zhombre says

    I think one of life’s pleasures is puttering in the back yard with a beagle sniffing around, though I suppose as an authoritarian personality I should have a mastiff or German shephard. A beagle runs against type.

  8. says

    I’ve just realized that I have totally the wrong dog, too. No fierce German shepherd here. Instead, she’s a 15 lb love bunny, who adores children, loves to play fetch, never barks (although she does moan with happiness), and thinks cuddling is a life’s vocation. Silly me to get so the wrong dog.

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