Friday, February 25, 2005

Dept. of self-sabotage

Sometimes it is so frustrating not to have the eyes and nose of a dog.

Silver and I are walking at the edge of the woods. She pokes around in the pine straw at a leisurely pace, and I have to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't find a pile of deer shit and eat it.* The dog across the street starts barking, but I don't pay it any mind because that dog is very bored, what with being tied out all the time, and it barks at a lot of things.

Suddenly Silver tenses up and stares fixedly into our side woods. I stare in the same direction, but I don't see anything. I walk with her to the top of a little hill, hoping (by following the arc of her gaze) to triangulate exactly where the object of interest is. Still nothing. I squint. Dammit, I have 20/10 vision with my contact lenses in, but I can only see tree trunks and privet.

Silver stares as only a border collie can stare. "Wuh," she says quietly--that noise dogs make when they're fixing to bark but haven't quite committed to it yet.

"What is it, girl?" I ask, and then I roll my eyes at my own stupidity. This is not Lassie. I shrug and lead Silv back up to the house.

I haven't been too bright today, all in all. I started out feeling great but then acted contrary for no reason when the s.o. and I were at the thrift store. I kept at it until I succeeded in ruining our fun. Everything he found, I'd say that we couldn't afford it without going to an ATM, or that we didn't need it. And then of course the whole way home, I kept bringing it up and self-flagellating and continuing to dampen the mood. Lovely.

So rather than subjecting anyone to a continuation of the eternal "I suck" litany, I present you with the farm report:

Arugula - Up in great quantities - woo hoo!
Lettuce - Just barely up.
Peas - have so far failed to thrive since sprouting, and I am beginning to wonder if they are rotting in situ because of the soggy soil.


*Notice I didn't say anything about wishing for a dog's sense of taste. This past Christmas I got my dad's onetime girlfriend a recipe notebook with cartoon dog chefs on it. To me it was funny, because dogs really, really don't care what they eat. And yet for some reason I am still flattered when our dogs beg for, say, my Chinese sesame cabbage. "They like it!" I exclaim.