The Snoring Duo

The Dad is out in the field, leaving me all alone, um, all alone with all the kids that is, in my big, new-to-me house. I’m blessed with Squareboy and daughter tangled together in my covers snoring away in contradicting rhythms. Very non-conducive to sleep. Or maybe it’s the big, new-to-me house. It creaks. Creaks I don’t know and have me feeling jumpy. Me thinks we need a dog. But, shhhhhhhhh, don’t let the kids hear me think that!

Actually, today, a great day today, daughters teacher stopped by the house! Just because I’d shared the new address, for daughter to learn you know, and it turns out she lives down the street. Teacher had to walk her doggies anyway and stopped by to say “hi”. I absolutely love the south! People stop by! I feel loved and not cold-shouldered like in the Land of Ice & Snow. Teachers doggies are rescues. Poor Pepper is very jumpy, I scared her with my enthusiasm and I still feel just terrible about it. The poor doggy just ran as fast as she could, as far as her leash would take her, the opposite direction of me. Marcy on the otherhand, “careful she bites”, loved me! Could be because I was quickly wolfing down a snack when I heard them walk into the backyard and Marcy smelled the snack fresh on my hands. Marcy is a grouchy little bassett/dachshund mix who loves, loves, loves food. And me. Anyway, once again I derail myself, anyone ever finish a whole one of my blogs? And comprehend it? Anyone? Obviously Teacher couldn’t very well come in, Pepper and Marcy couldn’t be left alone and, well, I have no outdoor furniture to entertain on, so me, Squareboy & daughter walked teacher home. Down the street my foot. The woman lives like 4 blocks away. Rural North Carolina blocks. Me wearing my cute, but very unpractical, walking clogs. Squareboy and daughter jumped and chatted the whole way. In between their squeals teacher gave me the rundown of all the neighbors. Well, really, the neighbors dogs. She is definitely a dog person. Along the way we met Lynne and 3 of her rescue dogs. I think rescuing dogs is the accepted social grace out here. Lynne rescues golden retrievers exclusively. How the heck a beautiful, gentle, expensive breed like a Golden ever needs an exclusive rescuerer truly boggles my brain. Still, Lynne was a sight to behold. We couldn’t get too close because Golden #1 refuses to be leashed and has hip displasia on top of it… and Pepper tends to act tough with dogs, just not with scary 5’2” me. So standing half a North Carolina block apart, we met Lynne. Pepper straining at the leash, Marcy sniffing for non-existent food, Golden #1 laying down & not caring at all about anything but resting his poor hip, Golden #2 barking uncontrollably and Golden #3 holding his leash in his mouth and leaning back like a stubborn pony refusing to go forward. Where’s the video camera when you need one?Crap. Rambling. The house is still creaking and I keep losing my train of thought. I’ve checked on each kid, even Eldest-who-can-now-drive, at least three times. Back to my thought in paragraph one, you know, the one about needing a puppy? While wandering the neighborhood and meeting the neighors I learned that Lynne is looking at a 7-month old Golden puppy tomorrow. Maybe our puppy. Depends what exactly the rescue situation is. I even called the Dad, to leave a voicemail and darned if he didn’t have reception where no soldier should have reception, and the Dad didn’t say no! The Dad is a cat person. I really, really would feel better with a doggy at my side on the nights he is in the field. In my big, new-to-me house that I absolutely love, but scares me in the middle of the night. I’d better go try to sleep again. Sitting here typing, whining, is not going to help me nod off. At least the bed will be cozy and warm from Squareboy and daughter, if not quiet.