Don’t let her sweet nature and all those pretty flowers deceive you. Mother Nature is laughing at us, spoofing us. When you look out my window, you see the prettiest day. The the sky is so blue it doesn’t look real. The sun is morning bright. Everything is shining in the light. The air is clear. After the dogs went out, I stepped on the deck. I was shocked. Right now it is 36°. In whose world is that spring? That is a winter temperature. Bundle up!

The dogs and I have a morning routine. After I wake up, they stand on the stairs waiting for me. When they see me, they run to the back door and get in line, a line of two. I let them out and watch. They run to the back of the yard. I get my coffee. Nala comes in, but I still have to open the door for Henry. I wish I knew what spooked him about the door, but it is a Henry thing. They get their biscuits. I wait. Like Hobbits, they have a second breakfast right but after the first, a treat. Finally, they are ready for their morning naps. Henry goes upstairs to nap on my bed. Nala naps right here beside me on the couch. They are exhausted.

Duke was our dog. We were given him as a gift from my aunt when I was six, the best gift I’ve ever had. He was a boxer, a clever, loving boxer. He came from a boxer breeder right in my town. He had been bought then returned. I don’t know why, but I’m thinking that first buyer had no idea the nature of boxers. Duke was six months. He started my love affair with boxers. He wasn’t a big dog, but he was fierce, protective. He pretty much did what he wanted. I remember when he got out of the house to follow kids to school. My father yelled for him to come. He stopped, turned to look at my father then took off. Boxers are stubborn. My father was so angry he got in the car to chase him. We just laughed.

I still think of Sunday as the quiet day. When I was a kid, it was a family day when we all sat down to dinner together. During the week, my father came home late from work, after we had already eaten. The Sunday dinner was always the best meal of the week with some sort of a roast, mashed potatoes and a couple of veggies. We stayed around the house unless we went visiting my grandparents. When I think back on those visits, I remember a houseful of people, my grandmother and my mother’s sisters sitting in the kitchen, lots of cousins and a few uncles who would watch football with my father. It was just an ordinary family day.

This entry was posted on March 9, 2025 at 11:04 am and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.