I often get asked 'how can you live in such a small space with three dogs' - to which I add 'there's also a cat, or at least most of a cat, since Haiku is missing on her back leg and her tail.'
Well, as crazy as it can be at times, it isn't that crazy - there is alot of musical chairs-style moving around, but it's all done rather calmly. They all play well together, and respect each others space (as they should).
So here's some rare footage of my Airstream life...(okay, so it's not all that rare - I was just trying to add some drama to my little world). All within the course of a few hours.
I've been busy. Doing things. I've finally gotten around to transplanting all of last fall's propagatees into the garden, and I'm slowly transplanting daylilies and salvias from the now-shady areas to places in the garden with more sun. I'm harvesting blueberries and cubanelles and the asian pears are ready, although they're tiny, and I'm fighting Annabelle Lee over them - she jumps up on the tree until one or two falls down, and then she runs around the garden with them for a bit before settling down and eating them up. Yes - Annabelle is my garden's primary consumer. Still putting the finishing touches on a small grant, have a revision of a manuscript to finish up - and I have two graduate student manuscripts to read through. Last week was such a bust, with my crashed computer - so I'm planning on a better week. I want to plant seeds - of zinnias and sunflowers and other annuals that will bring color to the August garden - and of green beans, that won't mind the heat. I want to weed. And prune. I'd also like to get my act together - but I'm not sure that this is something one does when they're unemployed, working like crazy, and living in an Airstream. Perhaps having one's act together is over-rated anyway.
My friends that came into town last weekend brought their 6 year old daughter, Lily - these friends used to be neighbors over three years ago now, and from an early age, Lily simply fell in love with my three-legged cat, Haiku. To the extent that at one point I was tempted to send the cat to her in Pennsylvania (but there was a man involved, and it would have been stupid stupid stupid on my part to have done that and thankfully I didn't) - but nonethless, Lily has remained attached to Haiku. Her mother, Kate, said that every night, when Lily says her prayers before bed, that she prays for her parents and grandparents and uncle, her dogs and cat, and...Haiku and her missing leg. Yes, Haiku's missing leg has been prayed for every evening for over three years now. Could there be a more cared for missing cat leg anywhere...ever? I just thought that was really sweet.
Driving home without work in hand, an evening unplanned and not over examined - a much needed evening enjoying my garden, doing what I want, slowing down. The ritual of letting the two big dogs out - one heads out to search for snakes in his favorite places, the other runs out only to run in as quickly as she can to be with me. I pick up the Ancient Wonder Beagle who I then carry down the stairs (she gets up them okay - but she stumbles sometimes going down) - when I put her on the ground, she immediately puts her nose in the grass and starts to bark - that beagle bark that I'm sure annoys the neighbors. Haiku-the-Cat is participating in her own spring ritual - she's mesmorized, sitting on the back of a chair that is up against a large window, watching a male cardinal teach three baby cardinals how to get seed from the feeder. They're funny, the baby cardinals, they're ignoring their father (as they should) and are instead expanding their wings, unintentionally and intentionally hitting one another, their feathers less feathers than spikes with a hint of red. They're doing everything but eat the seed. Unlike the baby cardinals, my dogs eat (gulp) their food and Stanley returns to his snake hunt and Wood stays by my side and the Ancient Wonder Beagle curls back up on her bed. I go back outside - the garden loved yesterday's rain - the hydrangeas seem bigger, my tomatoes have grown, there are sugarsnap peas to harvest - I put my ruby moon hyacinth bean plants, the ones I started from seed, in the ground and make a "teepee" style trellis for them out of bamboo. It's cool - so I decide that tonight is the night to build a bonfire with the branches from the large pine tree that a friend helped me take down months ago. The needles catch quickly, and soon I have a large fire going as it starts to get dark outside. The cardinals have disappeared into the bald cypresses and Haiku is looking for something else to do. Perhaps there is a dog to tease? An evening unplanned.