It’s time to find a hiding place
Sunday dawns with a sunny, luxurious quietness, a plush silence pervades the house even though Snookums is up and about. She is a woman of order and routine and heaven help the man or dog who interrupts that natural order of things.
At dawn she arises, waiting dogs arrayed around her like petals on a flower. Slipping into her robe she makes the morning rounds of hitting the brew button, opening the blinds in several rooms, every third day putting in a shallow dish of bathing water for Kippur the budgie, then disappearing into the master bathroom for what seem to the mutts an interminable amount of time.
She rewards herself for assiduously brushing her teeth with that first cup of coffee, then dons her morning attire. Usually ragged pangs, t-shirt, socks and shoes. While she does this, it is a signal to the mutts to start rough-housing. Soon, she will go to a special cabinet that contains a treasury of tennis balls, some disgustingly groady, some brand new. One for each mutt is the rule, though occasionally one will manage to get all three balls into her mouth.
Then out the door for fifteen minutes of ball chasing, then each one returns to the house with their ball, and awaits their pay for returning the ball. We don’t pay them a lot. One biscuit per ball is the rule. But once in awhile a ball will disappear into the tall grass for a day or two, then mysteriously return to be traded in for an extra treat.
Then it is half an hour on the treadmill, before sitting down to cool off while checking the emails and facebook offerings.
The stalwart king of the house meanwhile, has just managed to fill his own cup of coffee, and stagger bleary eyed to his studio to read the emails, look wistfully out the window into the pasture outside, get scolded by the parakeet, and type “Sunday dawns with a sunny, luxurious quietness.”
Soon, Passover will be here, and the woman of valor as Proverbs call her, will start cleaning. Leaven has to go. Closets need cleaning. Stoves and refrigerators need to be pulled out, cleaned behind and pushed back just so. Drawers need arranging, carpets shampooed, stoops swept and all put in order in case this is the year Elijah decides to celebrate Passover with us.
It is a terrifying time for men and dogs, but all are expected to participate. *grunt!*. Me male. Me move heavy thing. *grunt!*
But for the moment, there is me, you, coffee and peace on earth.
Good morning!
~r
Rusty's Armory 