Hey, blogger friends, regular friends, and creatives behind the scenes at WordPress 🙂
The timing of this writing prompt is weirdly perfect for me on this calm Tuesday morning here in Minnesconsin.
I haven’t published a blog post in a couple of weeks or so for a million good reasons, none of which are that I haven’t wanted to.
But right now, in this moment, I feel at peace. The house is quiet, the doggies are too (which is liable to change any second now).
The only sound I’m hearing this morning is the soft snoring of the little babe right next to me.
Yes, I’m watching our 6-week-old grandbaby Levi today while his Mommy goes to work (her second day back after maternity leave) and his Daddy attends to some important personal business until later this afternoon.
Watching him is absolutely mesmerizing to me. Those little fluttering eyelids and occasional smiles as he enjoys his sweet baby dreams. The little bit of drool escaping his perfect little rosebud lips. Those soft cheeks that are getting chubbier by the day.
Any thoughts I had upon waking this morning about what needs to get done on my ever-evolving “to-do” list have evaporated. This babe with spit bubbles forming on his lips is all that matters right now, and I’m going to soak up this beautiful peace this morning and let things be.
Our newest grandson, Levi, was born healthy and beautiful on 6/28. He’s got the cute little nose gene from Mr. NOA’s side of the family. He’s got blond hair, like his daddy and his 11-year-old brother. He is simply precious and so very loved.
On the day Levi was born, our oldest grandson (the 11-year-old) and I took our kayaks out on the lake for the first time. One thing checked off my summer bucket list! The kid was a natural in his kayak. Me, not so much. But I did not, to my surprise and delight, tip mine over, despite how wobbly I was for the first 15 minutes in that thing.
We “hosted” our daughter’s family’s puppy, Dash, for a couple of weeks while they settled in at home with baby Levi. They have another dog, the scrappy daschund/pug mix, Max, and the two of them together in a house with a new baby and two other kids is a lot for them to handle. Mr. NOA and I made it clear to the kids that we are open to keeping Dash for good. He and Radar get along well, and Dash really benefits from having an older dog around to model how to be a good boy.
Dash in a rare moment of restRadar, the OG
A couple of weekends ago, Mr. NOA pulled the camper out of it’s space next to the “We Shed”, after it sat unused for the better part of three years. We cleaned it from top to bottom, inside and outside. We took it, along with Radar, up to the Northland to visit family and friends last weekend. It was so good to reconnect with the people we love and soak up the natural beauty of our surroundings.
Dash stayed with the kids while we were away. While it went well for them, they did ultimately decide that Dash is better off staying with us for good.
So, now we are a two dog household!
As far as blogging goes, I’m taking things in stride. Life has been more eventful (clearly) as of late, so publishing posts here has been sporadic. I suspect it will continue to be so throughout the remainder of this summer.
A few pics from our trip to the Northland:
Instead of my usual song at the end of this post, I’m sharing a video I took on my sister and her husband’s property last weekend. I’ve gotten slightly better at taking videos with my phone, but I do apologize for the speed at which I moved it as I was capturing this footage. I hope it’s not too jarring. I recommend having the sound up so you can better appreciate the soothing sounds of the babbling Baptism River.
The thing about summer is that it’s so fleeting. It comes up so fast and before you know it, the leaves are changing and the temps are dropping. Boats are put away for the season and kids are getting back to school.
Here in Minnesconsin, it is just now starting to feel like a proper summer. We have had so much rain it’s ridiculous. And if it wasn’t raining, it was in the high 90’s. As a result, we’ve been spending more time indoors than we had hoped to.
Today, however, it’s in the mid-70’s with nary a cloud in the sky. Mr. NOA and I are planning to take a cruise on our pontoon once he’s done with his workday.
I have a history of being that person with lots of grand ideas about cramming as much fun into the summer season as possible. I’m determined that this summer, with our newest grandson about to be born (daughter is being induced on Friday!), things will be less frenzied than summers past.
There’s no big travel plans on the horizon, save for a few days visiting my side of the family in northern Minnesota. We are, for the most part, staying put.
But staying put doesn’t mean fun isn’t going to be had. The fun, however, will be localized and simple.
Things like making homemade ice cream with the fancy machine my awesome SIL got me for Christmas. As many pontoon rides as possible. ‘Smores over the campfire. Putting ice cubes in the kiddy pool for Radar and our kid’s two dogs to play in on a hot day. Drinking wine on the patio at our local winery. Seeing a summer blockbuster movie in the theater. Playing croquet in the yard with our 11-year-old grandson. Gardening and further beautifying our outdoor space. Getting out in our kayaks.
And of course, rocking that baby.
I’ve created a Spotify playlist for our pontoon excursions this summer. It’s filled with “yacht rock” style music, mostly from the 70’s and 80’s. I’ll be adding this one as soon as I hit the publish button on this post.
Please share what’s on your summer bucket list in the comments!
A while back, I was inspired by another blogger to re-consider how I refer to my husband when I’m writing blog posts.
Like me, how she referred to her husband wasn’t working for her. Since I started this blog (7 years ago!), I’d been calling my husband “Hubs” in my blog posts. I knew that it was inevitable that I’d be writing about him at least some of the time, since this is a personal blog after all, so I chose “Hubs” as his online moniker.
The thing is, though, I never, like ever, refer to him as “Hubs” to his face. Or when I’m referring to him in conversations with others. All I knew is that I didn’t want to use his actual name in this space, lest I inadvertently share something in a blog post that would somehow cause him embarassment. So, “Hubs” it was.
When I gave it more thought, a few months ago, it occurred to me that there was an alternative name for him in this space. Something I have only called him. Something between us that we both understand and laugh about: “Mr. None of the Above” (“Mr. NOA” for short).
As I recall, the first time I called him this was during a long, boring drive from one state to another. It was very late at night. We were both hungry. Hangry, actually. So, we agreed it was high time we stopped to get something to eat.
Now, my husband will attest to this statement: he is a pickier eater than I. I mean, he’s not ridiculously picky, mind you. There’s plenty of things he absolutely loves to eat that I will not touch with a ten-foot pole. Examples: pickled herring, sweet potatoes, cauliflower. And, of course, there’s things I love to eat that he wants no part of: corn in mexican dishes, ketchup on my scrambled eggs, and most sweets.
That night, in our hangry state, I suggested two different options of places to get some grub. I believe it was Subway or McDonald’s. Being more finicky about what he eats, had his own idea: Perkin’s. We could sit down and relax, he said, not just eat on the road in the dark. It then occured to me just how often I would suggest various options (not just food related) and the man comes up with an altogether different choice. So now, I call him Mr. None of the Above on a regular basis. He will invariably have his own idea in any given situation, often one that I hadn’t thought of.
A more recent example: I told him that I thought we ought to adopt a cat for Christmas this past year. Radar has lived with a cat before and it went well. They weirdly shared food and sometimes even sat on the same couch together. After a bit of discussion, I suggested we just be content with having access to our daughter and her boyfriend’s puppy, Max. He and Radar get along famously after all, and they only live 20 minutes away from us. And Mr. None of the Above’s suggestion? “Let’s adopt a puppy!” One that has recently been weaned, he said. “What?! A teeny-tiny baby puppy?” I said, in shock. Then we talked some more about that particular option. We were in agreement that because Radar does so well with Max, playing with him, but also watching out for him and corraling him when they’re frolicking in the yard together, this might not be the worst idea ever.
Yet I can’t say I’m completely convinced we should or will ever do it. Maybe I’ll just hang on and see if Mr. None of the Above comes up with an alternative.
If I could be anywhere with anyone this Valentine’s Day, it’d be with Mr. None of the Above in the audience of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler’s “Restless Leg Tour”. I believe they are in NYC tonight. I came upon this tour online a couple of weeks ago and quickly shared it with Mr. None of the Above. I told him I figured it’d take about a couple grand for the two of us to fly to NYC (one of my top U.S. future travel destinations). This would include airfare, hotel, meals, and show tickets.
He laughed and laughed. Fucker.
No, I jest. Of course I didn’t think he’d agree that this was a great decision for us financially or that it was even feasible given our work and life schedules. But I enjoyed the fantasy while it lasted. Sigh.
I believe, however, that if Tina and Amy could understand how much I love that they are doing this show and for how long I have truly admired them as women in the world of comedy, they would certainly decide to book more shows closer to where we live. We could easily make the trip to Minneapolis or St. Paul, Madison or Milwaukee. Plus, I also have restless leg syndrome so that counts for something, right?
How about you, my lovely readers? What would be your heart’s desire if you could be anywhere with anyone on this Valentine’s Day?
Or, if you’re not feeling particularly dreamy today, how about just pausing to consider the things, whether they be non-things like people or pets, or experiences/activities, or physically tangible things that we are absolutely loving right now?
I’ll go first (like there’s another option here).
My best friendship and marriage (34 years in May!) with Mr. NOA
Taken in the early aughts and still one of my favorite pics
The badass female energy I’m surrounded by these days, at work, in my personal life and online. I’m embracing it and grateful for it. It’s inspiring me and enlightening me and I never want to take it for granted.
Speaking of being enlightened, I am really having a moment with reading. I am happy to report that I’m making progress on my ridiculous goal of reading 24 books in 2024. I’m currently reading book #3: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Wow. It is amazing that she wrote this when she was just 23. It’s like she must have been infused at birth with an old, wise soul to come up with such a rich story with fully drawn out characters.
These two fluffballs: our boy Radar and his little companion, Max, a pug/dachsund mix. We had Max overnight recently so my daughter and grandson could visit the kiddo’s other grandparents.
Naturally, Radar is chewing Max’s toy and Max is chewing Radar’s
Speaking of puppies, did you all catch the “Puppy Bowl” this past Sunday? Man, watching that brought me so much joy! Note to self: find it again and record it on your DVR for whenever you need a lift.
Another thing that has been giving me consistent lifts these days is streaming music on The Current. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this wonderful MPR (Minnesota Public Radio) station in previous blog posts, but either way, I am certain you will love it. They have great programs, like “United States of Americana” with Bill DeVille on Sunday mornings. They play a humongous and eclectic mix of music genres: folk, rock, hip-hop, blues, funk, and so much more, both old and brand spanking new stuff. Listening to this station on the regular keeps me, well, current.
I love comments on my blog posts too, folks! I would love to read about the things you are loving in the here and now. The things/people/places that are making your heart soar.
This past Sunday morning, as I was spewing out my thoughts and feelings into my personal draft folder, I caught a glimpse of the most precious thing.
Or, to be more exact, the most precious furry being there ever was: our good boy, Radar.
This is what I wrote:
I just got distracted by Radar. Normally the distraction is in the form of an unanticpated barking session. But this one is sublime. He’s curled up and sleeping next to the front door. Basking in the square of sunlight that landed on the green carpet he’s laying on. With his front paws beneath his head, and his right paw laying atop one of his most favorite toys. That tough navy and bright green wheel thing he got in his monthly Bark Box.
I resisted my usual temptation of grabbing my phone and snapping a picture. I decided it was unnecessary; and besides, the chances that he’d still be there in that exact position by the time I was ready to snap one were slim to none.
I did get this one a bit later in the day, however, as he was laying on the floor as Mr. None of the Above and I watched the Vikings vs. Packers game.
Look at the gorgeous mane!
Here’s one in which he’s wearing his “day of the dead” bandana while sharing the love seat with me and his favorite afghan, which was made by my mom.
Ain’t he a beaut?
Back to the Bark Box subscription. We signed up for it back when we lived in Colorado. When we moved to Minnesconsin in 2022, I re-started it. Not at all making any note whatsoever on my calendar so I could consider if it ought to continue after six months. So of course, that date came and went and I noticed a charge on our bank account for another six months. Radar had accumulated so many “tough chewer” toys via this subscription, but here it was already paid for. So we’ve been periodically sharing the treats and toys with other doggie friends because we simply don’t have the room for so much!
You should see this dog when the monthly Bark Box comes. He knows what it is when he sees it. He pounces, barks, wagging his tail as he expresses his jubilation. I have this little fantasy in my head that one day he’s going to manage to open it up all by himself, you know, after he grows thumbs, but for now I unseal it, then set it down on the floor for him to finish. It is the most hilarious thing ever and I’ve captured it on video but am not sure it’s good enough to share in this space.
I’m just so darn grateful for this goofy pooch of ours.
Our beloved 5-year-old dog, Radar, is so happy with his life here in Minnesconsin. Living here, he gets to run and play outside, sometimes without a leash. He gets to monitor all the little critters, the ones with wings and the ones with bushy tails, from our sun porch each day (aka Radar’s room).
Last week, Hubs was out of town for work. Radar and I were here, left to our own devices.
On Tuesday, as I’m sitting at the dining room table poking around WordPress, I got a call from our neighbor across the road, Mike. He said “Hey Rhonda, it looks like your pontoon is floating in the bay. If you need any help with it, I’m here, just let me know”.
Yikes! I thought. How could that have happened? Hubs tied it up very securely to our dock after our last boat ride. The next thought I had was “Where are the boat keys?”. I called Hubs, who, thankfully, answered right away. He tells me (of course) he’s got the boat key, but there’s a spare in the “cubby” under the steering wheel. Inside of the boat.
Really? How was I supposed to get into our boat, if it’s floating in the bay?
So, Radar and I headed to the dock to check things out. Mike was already there, on the other side of our little bay. I couldn’t make out everything he said, because of the distance between us, but I was grateful he was there nonetheless.
Thank goodness that it was not our pontoon boat out there, floating in the bay. It was our next door neighbor’s. I texted him, knowing he’d be at work (about an hour away) so he’d know his boat was adrift in the bay. As I told him, it wasn’t necessarily going anywhere. He thanked me, I let Mike know I’d contacted him, and then Mike proceeded to get into his small fishing boat, and pull our neighbor’s pontoon and tie it up to the nearest dock.
Neighbors “neighboring” is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?
As this all transpired, Radar was having a ball. He grabbed a toy, ran around like the nutjob he is, back and forth between our backyard and the two closest neighbors. Running up and down each dock, smiling and panting all the while. But he then did something I wasn’t anticipating.
He ran onto our dock, reached the end of it, looked around for a second, and then jumped into the lake. In the year that we have lived here in Minnesconsin, I haven’t seen him do that.
He sunk. My heart sunk at the same time. Then his head popped back up, he started his doggie paddling, and made his way to the left side of our dock. Which, of course, is thick with long, green reeds. He’s slipping and sliding, trying to gain some traction so he could make his way up onto the solid ground above, but he’s not going anywhere. He then dips himself under the dock, which really freaked me out.
Thoughts going through my head in this moment included “is he going to get stuck in the muck?” and “am I going to have to jump in and pull him out?”. Then, as my heart is fiercely pounding inside my chest, he pops out the other side. He struggles a bit with the reeds, which, no surprise, are also on the right side of our dock. But he managed to gain enough traction to get out of that mess and onto the ground above.
Whew!
Then he smiles, excessively shakes his body to get rid of all that water, and runs up the hill towards our house.
He was so proud of himself for his adventure that afternoon. I could hardly be angry with him. Needless to say, he got a bath that night. And we both slept like babies.
What do you all think about “to do” lists? Do you swear by them? Does the thought of making one stress you out?
I think these are interesting questions. I imagine answers being very subjective; dependant on how you were raised, how you’re wired, the generation you’re in, and a whole bunch of other stuff.
I have been making them for as long as I can remember, at work and at home. Lately, I’ve been making “to do” lists for the entire week vs. daily. Having all the tasks written out in black and white knowing I have the whole week to get it all done makes it easier to manage. And I’m not a big procrastinator, so that helps.
Back when we were in Colorado and our daughter and grandson were living with us, one day the kid decided to create himself a “to doo” list.
Of course I kept it and may even frame it someday. I feel like that’s the kind of Grandma I am. Here it is:
Now, some of what he wrote is figure-outable. Some of it, not so much. He’s 8, folks.
So, there’s 9 tasks on his list. Let me translate it for you:
Make You Tube video (the kid loves to do this, though “hates” having his picture taken. Go figure.).
Watch news (I think he put this down because Hubs and I always turn on MSNBC for Ari Melber weeknights at 5 p.m.).
Do something to get money (I appreciate his industrious intentions).
Play with Radar (awwww…).
Radar is living his best life here in Minnesconsin Sept. of 22
5. Sit and talk (love that he put this in there).
6. Eat dinner (his favorite then was chicken nuggets and mac ‘n cheese, now he’s more of a grilled cheese kinda guy).
7. Get ready for bed (so soon? there was usually some horsing around the house between 6 and 7).
8. Cuddle Radar (again…awww…yes I will be framing this).
9. Go to bed.
The most important thing on my “to do” list today is to attend an IEP meeting for him with my daughter at his new school. It’s a long and complicated story, but suffice it to say the kid is struggling, emotionally and socially. He’s been through some major changes in his young life and as a neurodivergent, sensitive, and inquisitive kid it’s been hard for him. For all of us here who love him as well.
I’m praying that between our combined love for the kid and my social work background, there will be a good outcome from this meeting.
As Whitney Houston sang in “The Greatest Love of All”: “I believe that children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. Give them a sense of pride to make it easier. Let the children’s laughter remind us how we used to be”.
This post is for those of you who have adopted a rescue mutt at some point in your lives, without knowing much about them beyond where they were rescued from, their supposed breeds, and their approximate age.
Do you ever wonder what their origin story is?
I do. And I have a theory about what Radar’s is.
Radar showing off his newest favorite toy, that moments before was covered in cloth.
What am I sure of? That before he came to Colorado, he was loved by someone else. I say that because of his sweet nature and love of all people he encounters.
This is the point in this post where I was going to tell you a clever, heartwarming story I made up about the newlywed couple that were his first “hoomans” who named him “Goofy”. These two crazy kids broke up for a time, then got back together when they were a united front trying to find him after he ran away amidst the devastating flood that hit the Houston area in the spring of 2019. They didn’t find him but “found” each other again. And of course they learned that the wife was pregnant and then they proceeded to live happily ever after, though often wondered what became of Mr. Goofy.
Instead of that, however, I’m just going to tell you all that Radar the dog ought to be the first of many dogs to compete under the category of “Mutt” at the Westminster Dog Show.
I know that the WDS does have the “All American” category of dogs; however from what I understand these dogs only compete in the “Agility” competitions. What I’m talking about is adding more diversity to the mix. Making it more inclusive, if you will.
There would be no agility tests. No checking their dental health. No showcasing the dogs’ levels of obedience.
Instead, the mutts would be judged on things like how long each dog does the “zoomies” after bathtime. You know, when they get out of the bathtub and run around like tasmanian devils, rubbing their wet furry bodies on every possible surface?
They would be judged on how cute their expressions are when their parent excitedly says the mutt’s favorite word or phrase, like “Treat?” or “Who wants to go for a walk?”
And of course, they’d be judged on their best, most unique tricks.
It’d probably have to be its own show, though, because the folks at the Westminster Dog Show take their shit very seriously.
Reminder to self: watch that movie “Best in Show”, stat.
Speaking of shit…a couple of weeks ago, Hubs was off in Wisconsin for the week, leaving me home alone with Radar-ling.
Here’s what happened on one of our neighborhood walks that week:
We ran out of poop bags and I wanted to avoid the nearest poop bag dispensing thing in our community garden area because there was a dog with their human and I didn’t want to have to deal with Radar going completely nutso and pulling me down and causing a ruckus. Because of course this has happened before.
I know there was an angel watching over me as I managed to walk the distance back to our house with one neuropathic (I have hereditary peripheral neuropathy) hand holding the leash and the other carefully holding a pile of poop mixed with grass and dry leaves in a used Kleenex found in my coat pocket, without Radar bolting ahead and pulling me down to the ground where most certainly his poop would have wound up somewhere on my person.
Truth be told, I am the more hands-off doggy parent, as for the most part, Hubs takes the lead with getting him out for walks, giving him baths, and making sure he’s fed. I am the “fun” parent. The one who plays with him, curls up with him on the couch and has lively one-sided conversations with him.
I was nervous as the time grew closer to me being on my own with him. Sure, I am capable of taking him out for walks and all of the other stuff Hubs usually does as the more responsible pet parent. It’d just been so long since it was just the two of us.
Well, it turned out that the professional training we three participated in when we first adopted him, coupled with Hubs continuing to reinforce that training when taking him out for walks, paid off.
I was proud to report to Hubs when he returned home that Radar was a very good boy the whole time he was gone.
What or who is helping you get through this pandemic? What or who is giving you comfort, helping you to remain hopeful, giving you purpose?
I am fortunate in that I have several answers to that question. One of them being my sweet boy, Radar.
It occurred to me recently that within this blog I had been sharing more anecdotes about Karl, our kiddo Rabbie’s sassy cat than I was about Radar. It also occurred to me that for many of us, our pets are the unsung heroes of this strange time.
They are always there for us. Always happy to see us. They don’t judge us for being in a cranky mood. They don’t judge us at all. They don’t ask much of us beyond loving them, ensuring they get outside for fresh air and potty breaks, and feeding them.
I wrote this post back in the summer of 2019, right after we adopted Radar. I loved him then but, amazingly enough, I love him even more now.
I love that he’s such a good boy at night. He fits perfectly into the rocking chair Hubs gave me for my 40th birthday, which now sits in the corner of our bedroom. He sleeps there all night long and when he gets up he offers a big yawn, revealing his extraordinarily long tongue and then he thoroughly stretches out his legs.
I love that when I come home after work, he is the first one to greet me. I only just begin to open the door, and there he is with his nose butting up between the door and the door frame in an effort to get to me as fast as he can.
I love how sometimes when he’s cuddled up with me on the couch at night, I can say his name and he cranks his neck to look at me upside down with his pretty brown eyes.
I love knowing that he is by nature a guard dog (at least half German Shepherd we believe). He would protect us if our house were to be broken into. Any intruders would not have a chance.
Keeping an eye out for the bad guys
I love his puppy playfulness. Hubs and I have never had a dog who loves to play with toys so much. Hubs always told me he wanted to have a dog he could take out into a field and throw around a frisbee with. Radar has gotten some solid training for this through jumping up to catch his favorite, super tough green and blue bone in mid-air at home in the early evenings.
I love Radar’s ears. Sometimes I find them folded back (or I gently fold them back) and I see that sweet black lab in his precious face. Then they will bounce straight back up, revealing his German Shepherd resemblance.
I also love that he’s the kind of dog that everyone loves. Every place we’ve ever taken him he charms all who he meets.
This dog has been such a blessing for me. He reminds me of the importance of playfulness in my day to day routine. He makes me feel appreciated. He comforts me if I’m feeling down. He has increased my general happiness, which has been a huge bonus during this upside down time we are still living in.
He’s my furry, loyal, funny, sweet, smart and loving hero.
Pollyanna's Path 