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As I ended my last entry, there was more to talk about; I even made a list in case I'd forget: the past week of work; birds in front and back of the house; Pepper's rescueversary coming up.
Seems as good an order as any to go.
I had four straight workdays of depositions scheduled; the first two in one case where we literally delivered a copy paper box worth of documents to the other side a month before. Those wound up taking only about two hours the first day and under an hour the second, and out of those murdered trees we maybe actually asked questions about a ream's worth of paper. Day Three wound up being postponed, so yay!, and today's finale knocked off two witnesses in under three hours. Now I have a reasonably quiet remainder of the workweek before things start getting stupid with multiple court appearances next week.
In the bird department, I'd previously mentioned that a mama robin had taken up residence in the rafters of the greenhouse that's being repaired. Well, as of last week, the bebbies began sticking their leetle heads out. Eleanor got her digital camera up there for a shot of one of them the other day-
and by Sunday, the three heads had grown one more, leading to this shot from my phone tonight of the Fab Four:
You want bigger birds? Head out front. I think it was Thursday when this guy first showed up at our birdfeeder, and here he was over the weekend. I've named him Les, as in WKRP's famous turkeyologist:
No sign of him since that picture. Maybe the cranberry sauce in the front window scared him off.
----
The Swamp finally drained sufficiently for me to get the back forty all mowed by late Sunday. Eleanor worked Monday as usual, and I awaited a weather report before acting on a plan made months ago, to take Pepper to her first-ever baseball game. This one was in Syracuse, where the Mets, who now own and run the team, were offering a "Bark in the Park" event. These have become as obligatory as mascot races and food-porn rebrandings of the teams' jerseys. While the BuffaloBisons Wings were home against the Rochester Red Wings Garbage Plates, it was No Dogs Allowed here- and a friend from the Mets blogging community was making a long weekend out of seeing their AA Binghamton and AAA Syracuse teams play.
The weather being fine and the lawn being mowed, Pepper and I loaded into Eleanor's new car (this will be important later) and, after a bit of time for her to settle down, we made it to Syracuse's stadium right around the time the gates opened. The park now named for a local bank dates to the same 1990s upstate baseball building boom as Rochester's new downtown stadium and Batavia's refurbished one; this was my first time ever actually inside any Syracuse sporting ground. It's a nice enough facility, with decent concessions but not many other stadium employees in sight (the team's prior-to-the-Mets owners were notoriously cheap, and the Wilpons can be counted on to continue that tradition). One oddity: Syracuse's alternate superfood identity is as the Salt Potatoes, a local delicacy, but no such spuds were to be had at any of their assorted concession stands. They do sell the hats, though-
- and one of the fancier food venues still serves poutine, likely left over from when the then- Syracuse (Sky)Chiefs were affiliated with either Montreal or Toronto.
None of these nitpicks mattered to the dogs, though. There were butts to be sniffed, pools to drink out of, and food spills to be cleaned. Pepper was a Very Good Girl the entire time, other than one leash pull that doused a dude's flipflops with a bit of my beer (moral: buy it in cans and don't open them until you're at your seat). We got to join the parade on the warning track before the game started-
and through that, we got to do a favor for our friend. Jason was a loyal follower of Israel's underdog entry in the World Baseball Classic a few years back- they became something of a social media sensation, movie and all- and has been collecting autographs from the team's members that made it to American professional ball. One of these was the catcher for the visitors from Scranton, and there he was, sitting in the very dugout Pepper and I were passing by. (Being the catcher was important, since he had his mask in hand and protector on, so I knew it was he.) I told him a fan was looking for an Israeli autograph, and by the time Pepper and I finished our pawmenade, I saw Ryan leaning over the railing, adding his Joshua Hancock to Jason's collection of signatures:)
By far, though, my favorite moment was when we got up at the seventh inning stretch, and Pepper decided to woof, woof woof for the home team during "Take Me Out."
When the S-Mets had a couple of insurance runs on the board, we decided to beat the traffic out. She hopped right in the back of Alanis this time, and promptly conked out for the entire drive home.
This has become an unexpected Memorial Day tradition- I solo'd to a Subway Series game in Flushing on Memorial Day in 2013, and then on this weekend two years ago ventured to Binghamton for my first AA game (and my sister's first game ever:) Now I've added AAA ball and a dog to the equation. Only thing left to do is leave the country for patriotic observances, like our President always seems to. (Wait, I've done that, too;)
----
Pepper's dog license renewal came the other day, a reminder that it's been almost a year since this became her forever home. She has her quirks (noises and music she doesn't like, fairly finicky about when, if not what, she will eat, and do not ever leave food unattended when she's within paw reach), but overall we've been blessed with the company. After a long afternoon in the yard, there's something surreal and sweet about how she'll lie down next to me, her back to my back almost knowing where it's sore. She's basically a heating pad with feet.
Best of all? I never have to make her testify at a depawsition.
Seems as good an order as any to go.
I had four straight workdays of depositions scheduled; the first two in one case where we literally delivered a copy paper box worth of documents to the other side a month before. Those wound up taking only about two hours the first day and under an hour the second, and out of those murdered trees we maybe actually asked questions about a ream's worth of paper. Day Three wound up being postponed, so yay!, and today's finale knocked off two witnesses in under three hours. Now I have a reasonably quiet remainder of the workweek before things start getting stupid with multiple court appearances next week.
In the bird department, I'd previously mentioned that a mama robin had taken up residence in the rafters of the greenhouse that's being repaired. Well, as of last week, the bebbies began sticking their leetle heads out. Eleanor got her digital camera up there for a shot of one of them the other day-
and by Sunday, the three heads had grown one more, leading to this shot from my phone tonight of the Fab Four:
You want bigger birds? Head out front. I think it was Thursday when this guy first showed up at our birdfeeder, and here he was over the weekend. I've named him Les, as in WKRP's famous turkeyologist:
No sign of him since that picture. Maybe the cranberry sauce in the front window scared him off.
----
The Swamp finally drained sufficiently for me to get the back forty all mowed by late Sunday. Eleanor worked Monday as usual, and I awaited a weather report before acting on a plan made months ago, to take Pepper to her first-ever baseball game. This one was in Syracuse, where the Mets, who now own and run the team, were offering a "Bark in the Park" event. These have become as obligatory as mascot races and food-porn rebrandings of the teams' jerseys. While the Buffalo
The weather being fine and the lawn being mowed, Pepper and I loaded into Eleanor's new car (this will be important later) and, after a bit of time for her to settle down, we made it to Syracuse's stadium right around the time the gates opened. The park now named for a local bank dates to the same 1990s upstate baseball building boom as Rochester's new downtown stadium and Batavia's refurbished one; this was my first time ever actually inside any Syracuse sporting ground. It's a nice enough facility, with decent concessions but not many other stadium employees in sight (the team's prior-to-the-Mets owners were notoriously cheap, and the Wilpons can be counted on to continue that tradition). One oddity: Syracuse's alternate superfood identity is as the Salt Potatoes, a local delicacy, but no such spuds were to be had at any of their assorted concession stands. They do sell the hats, though-
- and one of the fancier food venues still serves poutine, likely left over from when the then- Syracuse (Sky)Chiefs were affiliated with either Montreal or Toronto.
None of these nitpicks mattered to the dogs, though. There were butts to be sniffed, pools to drink out of, and food spills to be cleaned. Pepper was a Very Good Girl the entire time, other than one leash pull that doused a dude's flipflops with a bit of my beer (moral: buy it in cans and don't open them until you're at your seat). We got to join the parade on the warning track before the game started-
and through that, we got to do a favor for our friend. Jason was a loyal follower of Israel's underdog entry in the World Baseball Classic a few years back- they became something of a social media sensation, movie and all- and has been collecting autographs from the team's members that made it to American professional ball. One of these was the catcher for the visitors from Scranton, and there he was, sitting in the very dugout Pepper and I were passing by. (Being the catcher was important, since he had his mask in hand and protector on, so I knew it was he.) I told him a fan was looking for an Israeli autograph, and by the time Pepper and I finished our pawmenade, I saw Ryan leaning over the railing, adding his Joshua Hancock to Jason's collection of signatures:)
By far, though, my favorite moment was when we got up at the seventh inning stretch, and Pepper decided to woof, woof woof for the home team during "Take Me Out."
When the S-Mets had a couple of insurance runs on the board, we decided to beat the traffic out. She hopped right in the back of Alanis this time, and promptly conked out for the entire drive home.
This has become an unexpected Memorial Day tradition- I solo'd to a Subway Series game in Flushing on Memorial Day in 2013, and then on this weekend two years ago ventured to Binghamton for my first AA game (and my sister's first game ever:) Now I've added AAA ball and a dog to the equation. Only thing left to do is leave the country for patriotic observances, like our President always seems to. (Wait, I've done that, too;)
----
Pepper's dog license renewal came the other day, a reminder that it's been almost a year since this became her forever home. She has her quirks (noises and music she doesn't like, fairly finicky about when, if not what, she will eat, and do not ever leave food unattended when she's within paw reach), but overall we've been blessed with the company. After a long afternoon in the yard, there's something surreal and sweet about how she'll lie down next to me, her back to my back almost knowing where it's sore. She's basically a heating pad with feet.
Best of all? I never have to make her testify at a depawsition.