Thursday, April 06, 2006, 22:13
Lunch
I had lunch today with a friend I haven't seen in a while. When I worked for the newspapers, I used to run into her from time to time on various stories. She's a newspaper reporter too. Different newspaper. But when you're covering stories for newspapers with different print schedules, it doesn't matter. Not much competition among the newspapers, if you see what I mean, when one of the newspapers is a weekly and prints a week later than the first newspaper.
The most notable story was when we covered the ethanol plant hearings. We spent lots of time together then -- four day's worth all together of 12 hour hearings.
Seems a little like over-kill, sitting through 12 hours each day for two days on two separate occasions, listening to people saying the same things over and over and over again about why they did not want an ethanol plant built in the area. (It was the "not in my backyard" syndrome. Otherwise known as the NIMBY syndrome. Which caused me to think, "well -- how rich DO you want to make the oil companies?")
Anyway, my friend and I had lunch together. And she wanted to know if I would write stories for her newspaper on a freelance basis. So I said, sure, I could do that if she needed stories written.
You know, during the good old days on the farm, we used to eat dinner. "Lunch" just wasn't going to cut it. Not when we had all kinds of heavy manual labor to do. Lunch was what we ate in the middle of the afternoon. But these days, I don't work hard enough to eat dinner AND lunch. So lunch will have to do.
It was really something different for me to go out to lunch. I'm so used to sitting in my office at home and working and then walking down the hall to the kitchen to get my lunch. Lots of writers will tell you that writing is a solitary business.
Maybe I DO need to get out more. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Wednesday, April 05, 2006, 18:49
Like a Little Angel
"Is she seat-belted in?" asked the lady at the drive-up window at the bank this morning.
I looked over at my Shetland Sheepdog, Pixie, who was sitting in the passenger seat of my little pick-up truck, just as nice as you please.
"No," I said, turning back to the lady. "She's not."
"Well, she's sitting SO nicely, I thought maybe she was."
Pixie had, in fact, been on her best behavior all morning. Only a few minutes earlier, we had been at the vet clinic so Pixie could get her annual vaccinations.
When I sat down in the waiting room, Pixie quietly sat beside my feet. Even when two other dogs came in the waiting room, she remained sitting quietly.
When we went back to the exam room, I led Pixie to the scale and told her to sit. She sat on the scale until I told her she could get off.
Pixie, incidentally, weighs 28 pounds. I put her on a diet a couple of years ago because she was up to 32 pounds -- maybe just a tiny bit much for her size. But now I think I ought to increase her food somewhat. I don't want her to lose too much weight.
When I put Pixie on the exam table, again she sat quietly, never moved, never protested when the vet drew blood for the heartworm test and never moved when she got her shots (distemper, Lyme, and rabies).
"What a nice dog!" the vet said. "She's so calm and quiet."
Quite a contrast between Pixie and my experience with Charlie last week. Charlie, at 70 pounds, barrels into the vet clinic like a bull loose in a china shop and doesn't calm down until we get home again. He very nearly yanked me off my chair when another dog came in the waiting room (he wanted to say "hello!"), and I practically had to throw myself on top of him to keep him on the exam table.
Of course, the vet doesn't see Pixie when I turn the clothes dryer on at home. Or when I get out the hand-vac to vacuum up dog and cat hair off the bed. Or when I get the vacuum cleaner out to vacuum the carpeting in my office and in the living room.
The "calm and quiet" little dog -- under those circumstances -- turns into a barking, whirling dynamo who must herd the clothes dryer and the hand-vac and the vacuum cleaner. That's what Shetland Sheepdogs do is herd sheep, you know. But since Pixie doesn't have any sheep, she settles for the clothes dryer and the vacuum cleaner.
And so, I'm happy to say, the dogs are done with their vaccinations for the year. The horses are next. I don't have to take them into the vet clinic, though, thank goodness. I do, however, need to make an appointment soon because Isabelle needs her first West Nile Virus vaccination. (I don't think any of her previous owners vaccinated her last year.) Kajun has gotten the West Nile Virus vaccine the last couple of years, so he only needs a booster. Both horses need their regular vaccinations (including tetanus). I want to be sure to get the West Nile vaccine into both of them. A neighbor had a horse that was sick with West Nile a couple of years ago, so we know the virus is present in this area.
Not that Isabelle is worried about anything today. She is stretched out flat in her pasture, enjoying the watery, thin sunshine which is making the air feel warm and pleasant even though it is not shining very brightly.
And speaking of stretched out flat -- Pixie is stretched out flat by my feet underneath my desk.
Oh yes, spring is here -- and life is good. . .as far as the animals are concerned, anyway!
LeAnn R. Ralph