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I had thoughts of taking a genuine Mental Health Day off yesterday. I had no court, appointments or travel to do, and after two (out-of-town) court appearances in four days this week and a certified Butt-Ton of them next week, I could definitely have used the relief.
Which I got, sort of.
I settled on some nots. Not setting an alarm (as there would be one each of the next six days including today and tomorrow). Not putting on anything fancier than a t-shirt, shorts and sneakers. Not leaving the house until I'd done as much work as I could from the house (which wasn't insignificant). Also: getting my time for the week recorded- a (usually) Saturday ritual that freed up time better spent today. Making my only mandatory office trip by bicycle, without having a computer in tow so I'd have to drive back and get it. It was still warm, but not as brutally hot as the day before when Eleanor biked (further) to work, and without the impending thunderstorm that led me to pick up her and her bike from work at the end of the day Thursday. I even got a workout in before her workday ended last night- and we planned for the two events of today, one of which will likely extend beyond it.
----
The alarm this morning was so I could be at "the Ralph"- the still-common name for the Bills' Orchard Park home- bright and early at 9. The county usually runs two hazardous waste dropoffs every summer, and the Southtowns one tends to be the earlier of the two. We've had paint cans with leftover sanding shavings from when Eleanor and I refinished the kitchen cabinets several years ago; the weekly pickup won't take them, and they're too volatile to just dump any other way, so this morning, I joined the parade for getting rid of the things.
I can only remember doing one of these previously- it might even have been in Rochester- and I remember it being quicker than today but with many more checkpoints and interrogations about what was being dropped off. This one, though? Once the unloaders got to your car, they checked nothing, asked nothing and just unloaded the cans from the back. It was the wait for that process that was the worst. They used Drive 4 across Abbott Road from the stadium, which I think is where the campers get parked before games. We were corralled into orderly queues of about 30 cars apiece and told to turn our engines off and wait. Which we did- for over two hours. Fortunately, I'd brought a book to work through and a new podcast to listen to. Also fortunately, the temperature was down into the 60sF, so not having AC on in the car wasn't too brutal. (On the other hand, people in line were smoking. Yes, with kerosene, all manner of household chemicals and my trunk with explosive linseed oil). Plus for me, the previous day's bike ride and workout were making my legs seize up about every half hour, which meant getting out and stretching them, which was officially illegal. At least nobody was tailgating and encouraging us to take drunken leaps onto shatterable card tables, as is common in these lots several Sundays every year.
Once we got moving, it was quick and orderly and I was home by noonish. And I'm almost finished with an almost 400-page book I've been reading.
----
Getting home not much past noon was important because, as I've at least hinted here, we've done a turnaround about expanding the family. Pepper has remained available, and for the past week we've had the go-ahead to take the next step in meeting and greeting. By last night, nothing had happened, mainly because her current owner Emilee has just been too busy with moving and with life and maybe with a little seller's remorse. So we suggested that we do the home visit without her supervision- she's busy packing up her apartment today and has an art show tonight- and she agreed to let us meet her and the dog at her place around 2. We took separate cars so two of us plus dog wouldn't be crammed into a single Smart front seat, and I drew the driving assignment back home with Pepper calling shotgun. Eleanor and I passed each other in traffic several times, and she could tell that, already, this dog seemed at home with us.
The biggest votes, though, were still to come. Michelle the evil kitty has already pronounced herself QOFE, and neither she nor the dog has made a move on the other. As I expected, Zoey's mainly in hiding, but on the couple of times their paths have crossed, Pepper's made no aggressive moves toward her. We've also introduced her to the family next door, including their sweet yellow lab, and they nuzzled and sniffed each other agreeably.
Then she got a hold of one of the kitties' foamy balls, and for just about all purposes, the deal was sealed:
We still have some sleeping-on-it to do, and possibly a dog park trip in the morning to check her sociability, but everything so far seems go. She's shown no signs of trying to escape or to ruin things, and just seems like a sweet, adorable and adoring young dog.
Life is good this way. As the bumper sticker puts it:
Which I got, sort of.
I settled on some nots. Not setting an alarm (as there would be one each of the next six days including today and tomorrow). Not putting on anything fancier than a t-shirt, shorts and sneakers. Not leaving the house until I'd done as much work as I could from the house (which wasn't insignificant). Also: getting my time for the week recorded- a (usually) Saturday ritual that freed up time better spent today. Making my only mandatory office trip by bicycle, without having a computer in tow so I'd have to drive back and get it. It was still warm, but not as brutally hot as the day before when Eleanor biked (further) to work, and without the impending thunderstorm that led me to pick up her and her bike from work at the end of the day Thursday. I even got a workout in before her workday ended last night- and we planned for the two events of today, one of which will likely extend beyond it.
----
The alarm this morning was so I could be at "the Ralph"- the still-common name for the Bills' Orchard Park home- bright and early at 9. The county usually runs two hazardous waste dropoffs every summer, and the Southtowns one tends to be the earlier of the two. We've had paint cans with leftover sanding shavings from when Eleanor and I refinished the kitchen cabinets several years ago; the weekly pickup won't take them, and they're too volatile to just dump any other way, so this morning, I joined the parade for getting rid of the things.
I can only remember doing one of these previously- it might even have been in Rochester- and I remember it being quicker than today but with many more checkpoints and interrogations about what was being dropped off. This one, though? Once the unloaders got to your car, they checked nothing, asked nothing and just unloaded the cans from the back. It was the wait for that process that was the worst. They used Drive 4 across Abbott Road from the stadium, which I think is where the campers get parked before games. We were corralled into orderly queues of about 30 cars apiece and told to turn our engines off and wait. Which we did- for over two hours. Fortunately, I'd brought a book to work through and a new podcast to listen to. Also fortunately, the temperature was down into the 60sF, so not having AC on in the car wasn't too brutal. (On the other hand, people in line were smoking. Yes, with kerosene, all manner of household chemicals and my trunk with explosive linseed oil). Plus for me, the previous day's bike ride and workout were making my legs seize up about every half hour, which meant getting out and stretching them, which was officially illegal. At least nobody was tailgating and encouraging us to take drunken leaps onto shatterable card tables, as is common in these lots several Sundays every year.
Once we got moving, it was quick and orderly and I was home by noonish. And I'm almost finished with an almost 400-page book I've been reading.
----
Getting home not much past noon was important because, as I've at least hinted here, we've done a turnaround about expanding the family. Pepper has remained available, and for the past week we've had the go-ahead to take the next step in meeting and greeting. By last night, nothing had happened, mainly because her current owner Emilee has just been too busy with moving and with life and maybe with a little seller's remorse. So we suggested that we do the home visit without her supervision- she's busy packing up her apartment today and has an art show tonight- and she agreed to let us meet her and the dog at her place around 2. We took separate cars so two of us plus dog wouldn't be crammed into a single Smart front seat, and I drew the driving assignment back home with Pepper calling shotgun. Eleanor and I passed each other in traffic several times, and she could tell that, already, this dog seemed at home with us.
The biggest votes, though, were still to come. Michelle the evil kitty has already pronounced herself QOFE, and neither she nor the dog has made a move on the other. As I expected, Zoey's mainly in hiding, but on the couple of times their paths have crossed, Pepper's made no aggressive moves toward her. We've also introduced her to the family next door, including their sweet yellow lab, and they nuzzled and sniffed each other agreeably.
Then she got a hold of one of the kitties' foamy balls, and for just about all purposes, the deal was sealed:
We still have some sleeping-on-it to do, and possibly a dog park trip in the morning to check her sociability, but everything so far seems go. She's shown no signs of trying to escape or to ruin things, and just seems like a sweet, adorable and adoring young dog.
Life is good this way. As the bumper sticker puts it: