Family

Lughnasa                              Waning Harvest Moon

Alert:  more dog stuff below.

These dogs.  They have a sense of playfulness,  athleticism and a joy in each others company.  And we’re ruining that right now.  We have them on leads because they jump the fence.  They get tangled up in them and have no fun outside,  inside they’re uncertain what all this means and they act unhappy.  Inside, too, their energy, unreleased from vigorous play (and, it must be pointed out, fence jumping) gets expressed.  This is two 75 pound + animals baring their teeth and jumping on each other.

We love it that our dogs have the run of the woods.  They have a shed to hunt under and one to sleep under.  They have woodpiles filled with critters that interest them.  There is a plastic swimming pool they can jump in when its hot and water to drink when they’re thirsty.  They organize themselves into a pack and enjoy each others company.  Being on leads cramps all that.

Right now we’re sad because we can’t figure out how to give these big puppies the freedom they need while keeping them safe and us out of trouble with the law.  A conundrum.  This situation exceeds our doggy knowledge by a lot.  We need help and we’re seeking it from the dog’s breeder, our vet and others who have coon hound experience.

A Bit of Metaphysics for the Early Afternoon

Lughnasa                                  Waning Harvest Moon

“There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval..” – George Santayana

Could have come from the mouth of a Mexica poet.  I can’t find the poem but I keep coming back in my thought to their metaphysics which makes life the puzzle and death the pregnant, vital reality.

In another view life is a momentary interlude between a sleep and a sleep.  This is a line from a poet who interested me a lot years back:  Charles Algernon Swinburne.  The line comes from his Atalanata in Calydon:

…In his heart is a blind desire,
In his eyes foreknowledge of death;
He weaves, and is clothed with derision;
Sows, and he shall not reap;
His life is a watch or a vision
Between a sleep and a sleep.

Friday

Lughnasa                                    Waning Harvest Moon

Paula Westmoreland came today for a walk through on the next to last phase of their work here.  This time we added a woodland edge to the woods visible from our kitchen table.  We also added shrubs and trees between ourselves and the Olsons, our line of site neighbors to the east.  It’s beginning to look like they will require watering.  Bummer.

The ten bales of hay I bought on Labor Day are now out of the truck.  Two of them will go as mulch for the new plantings in the prairie toward the Olsons.  8 will facilitate my attempt to recreate the compost pile.  It has been dismantled and spread out into a nice nest for two large sized puppies who will go nameless.

Kate’s home for the third straight day with what might be H1N1.  Whatever it is, it’s kicked her butt and it takes some doing to accomplish that.

Garden work is the order of the weekend.  That plus some more decluttering–the project that keeps on giving.