It seems rather obvious that the groundhog was NOT on the Westcoast when he made his prediction that spring was another six weeks away.
On our morning walks, we've been seeing daffodils blooming for a couple of weeks now, we saw a crop of about 300 snowdrops down near the river. Over the weekend, we saw a Magnolia with giant buds ready to pop. Flowering cherry, plum, and pear color the neighborhood. Today, I saw a forsythia in full yellow flame. We have had a nearly full week of sunshine, but rain comes tomorrow afternoon, they predict. In my garden my rose bushes have about 6 inches of shiny red growth. I have been afraid for them, wanting to go back out and cover them up, but they seem pretty happy to be going on in such a flashy style.
Here at the facility, lots of activity, people moving their stuff around, deciding if they should continue to keep what, and maybe taking it all home. Superman is pretty happy about all the work it's creating for him, but I'm saddened to see my neighborhood getting smaller.
The dogs are getting into spending a little more time outdoors. Even Dori looks to Dad every time he walks past as if to ask, Are we going to the Park today?
Speaking of Dori: My mom came over last week and she tolerated being petted.
We've had some episodes of car sickness lately, so I've taken to keeping her up front and holding her on my lap. My hope is that not hiding out on the back seat and seeing the world is moving around the vehicle, plus the window being open a little so she gets some air, that she can over come the problem. We pulled up to the bank one of the first few times and the guy in the window, who knows Dori's story and likes to make sure Maggie gets a treat every time we come through, his mouth dropped open because that was really the first time he got to see her. He immediately said, Oh, I'm not supposed to talk to her or look at her, sorry. But really, how could you not? Her head is up and she is really looking around at ALL there is to see, which makes us really happy. Another little bit of the real dog within coming out.
I have to say, she is the softest gentlest beast I've ever known. She touches her nose to my calf when I walk past her on the bedroom floor in the morning, so soft that if I wasn't paying attention, I might not have known she touched me. She doesn't want my to reciprocate, it is enough for her that she has tagged me. If I feed her a treat from the palm of my hand, she licks it so gently and caressingly. The softest tongue I've ever felt. Her fur is smoother that I would have imagined too, because I've not had much opportunity to brush her or bathe her, yet.
Spring has made me feel old. The sunshine in my office window is the comfy blanket it used to be. Suddenly, instead of wanting to run around and play, I suddenly realize all the adventures I won't get to do. I had been thinking that if I was younger I might apply to Cesar Millan The Dog Whisperer as an intern so that I could learn from the master how to understand this greatly misunderstood species. Even for just two weeks, I could come home with enough knowledge to help my own girls. But, Alas. I continue to look at every little instance and say, Hm, if Cesar was here, he would not let Maggie out of the truck to walk in the park until she was calm, or he would know a way to break down the wall of fear that Dori continues to live behind. He could walk up to the woman we see every morning with the King Charles Spaniel and tell her that he is whining for a reason and she's not helping him by encouraging his behavior. Having passed my mid-forties, running away to study seems a bit ridiculous.
I will try to take pictures of all this color so you can see some of the local beauty too. Hopefully, it will make us both feel better.