Week in Review (aka: Shameless Puppy Ploy)

Thirty years into life, and I'm still in wonder of weather, especially changing seasons.

It's March. And so far that's meant surprising temps (this time around, it's warm; last year was chilly), farm-ward looking, and a scramble to act on realizations gleaned from a winter of hermitage.

Maybe it's the World Cup coffee I insisted on drinking at 5pm talking, but I'm feeling my Restless Legs Syndrome kick in. Time for some footwork.

And....

Puppies!

 

My year started off with a bang. Well, I guess that actually happened sometime around the beginning of December, because by the end of January, the dog I'd recently welcomed in had multiplied to a degree of 7. Six puppies, that is. Five boys, one girl, and a genetic soup of color markings and tail variety. Other than floppy ears, the confirmed trait they share is Cuteness.

The guy above somehow contracted Strep, which led to something called "Puppy Strangles." It's about what it sounds like. An abscess grows around the pupper's neck, eventually blocking breathing and eating. So grandma (I) changed dressings where the abscess had to be lanced and pumped amoxycillin into puppy mouths (the same bubble gummy stuff most of us downed as kids). And, as you can see, I've got one satisfied customer! In fact, we're fairly bonded. He gazes at me and gives kisses, and reaches for me when the rest are content to reach for their Mama. I like to think that, as a parent, I'd love my children (and grandchildren) differently but equally. But among all the life lessons dog ownership has been droppin' on me (and they are intense) is one that I'm completely swayed by a pet's affection for me. Really. I call this survivor puppy "Favorite." 

The week abounded in puppy progress. I built an outdoor corral so they can catch some of these early season sunbeams. Panting tongues led them to learn how to lap up water. Mama dog's been happy to get some outdoor hours, too (so is Grandma - homegirl's cabin fever and incessant staring was riding my nerves). While they were feeling adventurous, I figured I would give them a taste of "real" puppy food, offering a little piece to each. Some gobbled it up; others let it roll absently from their mouths at first. But this morning, when Mama's milk didn't seem to interest them as much, they all attacked their puppy chow like zombies at a brain buffet.    The Evidence:

So proud, so proud.


Besides bringing out the worst (and occasionally, best) in me, having a dog has forced me out into the nature I supposedly love but often don't make time for. It helps that without daily jaunts into wilderness, her intense need to track scents, dig, and run full-tilt go unfulfilled - and lead to aforementioned incessant staring.

Get me outta here.

Life outside of puppydom is pretty good, too. Getting things organized in my little trailer is oddly fulfilling. Pause for a minute. Because even though I'm surrounded by outstanding beauty and adventurous, accepting people - my great pleasures right now are of this sort:

The perfect salmon. Cast iron, I own you.

Dorking out with organizimagation.

Surprisingly in step with my horoscope for the week, as given by our local radio Astrologess, I did play hostess to friends at my home - and I unwittingly followed her advice to "prepare food" in anticipation. My rousing Friday night involved trying out a crock pot chicken stock idea from Chaos in the Kitchen. That turned into Curried Butternut Squash Soup made with squash from our farm that I froze a while back. 'Twas a hit. Wonderful pals, they were, to maneuver around my unbelievably small space.

Add this to my first homemade banana pudding (a landslide victory for aspiring pudding-makers worldwide; in the battle of Me vs. Custard, Me completely crushed it), and I've become the woman I never thought I'd be: Debbie Domestic.



That brings me to today, when I discovered one of the most inspiring ideas to be set in motion in a while: Time banking.

In brief, a time bank is a way to value work that we do in terms of actual time, rather than mythical dollars. Let's say I design a flyer for a friend's organizing business. Rather than think of it as a favor, I can log it in the time bank and get credit for two hours - and the friend will log that as time she owes. If I need someone to water my garden while I'm gone, I can find someone on the time bank database who offers watering and "cash in" one of the hours I earned designing the flyer. The friend I designed for then spends an hour organizing for someone else and "pays" back what they "owed" for my work.

The beauty part - all work is valuable, and everyone has something to give. In thinking about what work I have to give and what I could use help with, it both made me realize how much I have to offer the world, and made me feel more capable of accepting help. Because it's not just doing or accepting a favor. Something in the recognition of a common value makes it seem less like charity. (Why charity's such an awful concept to begin with is food for thought.) We are living in a seriously special time, when people are awakening to a unity of concept and action I've never seen in my lifetime, and this sentiment seems to be common across generations.

I hope efforts like this will begin to take off everywhere and liberate folks from the idea that the value of their talents is only measured in paper - PAPER?! Check out timebanks.org and hourworld.org and please think about starting a group in your area! Whatever you're thinking of doing, now's the time. We're worth it.

"No more talk about the old days
It's time for something great.

I want you to get out
And make it work."  -Thom Yorke

I leave you with photos from the rest of the cast:

Blondie (don't ask, he's already taken)

The boys.

Our fearless leader.

Now accepting adoption applications... Suckas!