sure as shit

We had a brief period of nice weather yesterday morning before the crazy wind hit.  During that time, I took advantage of the warmth by going outside to hang some towels to dry.  While I was out there, I went ahead and started cleaning up some of the accumulated dog crap that the two resident hounds leave in the yard.

Know what I realized?  I managed to hang my clothes line right over the area where the dogs like to poop the best.  There were literally piles of crap all along the length of the clothes line.  It was as if we were keeping a cow or horse or other large animal back there.  Seriously.  I picked up a whole grocery bag full of shit, and that was just from beneath my line.

The question is, have the dogs always mostly crapped along that one line?  Or, did they start doing it after I hung the clothes line last spring?  And, why?  I honestly didn't think dogs were that particular about where they dropped a turd.  I know that hamsters and rodents have a spot in the corner of their cages and whatnot, but dogs?  They aren't supposed to be that sophisticated.

So, there I was, squatting in the yard, cleaning up crap and musing over the location of the dogs' preferred potty line.  What a morning.  I probably looked like I was the one dropping the turds, as I was hunched over, walking along, and stopping every few inches to snag another piece of poo.  At least the grass will be green.

Do your dogs have a poop place, or are mine the only psychotic pooches around?

a sunday rant

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Oh. My. God. If I could just get five minutes of peace and quiet in the morning, I'd be happy. But, I think the only way to make that happen is to get up before everyone else. When Alex insists on getting up between 6:30 and 7 AM every day, including weekends, that seems to be darn near impossible. What can I say? I like to sleep.

This weekend, my husband has been kind enough to get up with the kids both mornings. I really appreciate the extra sleep. But, when I do finally roll out of bed around 8:30 or so, I am bombarded with questions, as if I had been away for days. Today, the kids woke me up by playing catch. Right outside the bedroom door. Throwing a ball. Or, maybe two balls, seeing from the evidence. What fun.

Groggily, I got up, walked down the hall, and around the corner to the kitchen. My plan was to fix a pot of coffee, so I might be a more pleasant person as the day wore on. Do you know what I found? A dog. That is, a dog standing in the middle of the kitchen table. Yes, on top of the table. WTF?

We need to go grocery shopping again today, though we just went yesterday.  Of course, I forgot to buy a couple of things on my mental list.  You would, too, if you only kept a mental list and had to take both kids and your husband shopping.  Distractions, anyone?  Also, I thought we had two more full boxes of cereal in the house, enough to last two weeks.  Upon getting up this morning, I discovered we had half of one.  I swear, my oldest kid would eat every last crumb in the house at one sitting, if given the chance.

photo by gmnonic, via a Creative Commons license

 What do you do?  How much should a nine year old eat?  Should I let him eat whenever he wants, as long as the food is healthy?  Or, should I attempt to moderate his intake?  He is a normal weight (seriously, not just normal for now, but completely normal).  If he says he's hungry, which he claims to be all the time, do I feed him?  Really, I feel like I wouldn't be able to keep any food in the house if I let him eat however much he wanted, whenever he wanted.  I have trouble keeping the snacks stocked now.

Fifty years ago, I bet parents didn't worry about this sort of thing.  But, with the rising obesity crisis, how can one not worry?  Even the so-called "healthy" snacks aren't as healthy as they used to be.  We have over-processed every last morsel of food.  Even when it appears to be whole, it has been sprayed with pesticides, chemicals, waxes, and other toxins.  The food that we eat is slowly killing us, and yet we always want to eat more.

Yesterday, my son's Cub Scout den went and raked leaves for a woman who's husband is terminally ill.  He has leukemia and was just readmitted to the hospital on Wednesday.  She is watching the love of her life die, and though she is a physician, she can do nothing for him.  One day, this will be us.  Not my family, per say, but all of us.  We are the fattest nation in the world, yet we are the most undernourished and chemically stressed.  How many of us will actually die of old age?  How many of us will pass due to something like cancer, caused by the carcinogens that we have so easily welcomed into our homes?

So, what do we do?  Do we ignore the risks and live the best lives that we possibly can?  Do we go to the other extreme and only buy organics. locally grown foods, and hormone-free meats?  Do we grow all our own fruits and vegetables, so that we know what is in or on them?  Do we raise chickens in our backyard? Will that even help?  There is cause to wonder.

photo by Darin Barry, via a creative commons license