Thankful Thursday

This week, I am thankful for...

... the fabulous grooming job our groomer did on Ruffy, our schnoodle (schnauzer/poodle cross). He was in really rough shape. His fur is so fine, and we are so poor at brushing him. He was a matted up mess. He is now a sleek, stunning specimen of canine comeliness. (He also received a free frisbee, so even he was happy with the results.)

... the excitement I am experiencing right now, because later this morning, I (like Ruffie) have a salon appointment. I desperately need something new. I've let my hair grow out, and I've been very lazy with it; it's been a pony-tail kinda summer. I even made an appointment for a colour. I haven't coloured my hair since college!

... our wonderful neighbours - the same ones with the raspberries from a couple of weeks ago - who have supplied us with fresh garden carrots and cucumbers this week. They are brilliant gardeners.

... our city fair, in town this week. The boys and I spent the afternoon there yesterday. Then Main Man met us there for supper and we spent the evening there together. Main Man doesn't usually like the fair very much, but the boys are at such a great age now, it's impossible not to get excited when you see their faces. All of the boys (Main Man included) got those wristbands giving them unlimited rides, and - believe me - we got our money's worth!

... our boys' respect for money. I'm not sure how we've instilled it; I guess it's just a result of never having enough money (do any of us have enough money?) - but I can't remember the last time they whined or tantrumed for us to buy them something. Yesterday at the fair, we were there three hours before we spent any money - except for parking. Oh - we had pre-purchased the wristbands the day before.

... Main Man's friends. On Saturday, Main Man went to a "stag" party for a friend who is getting married this weekend. The group of them went to a football game and drank way too much, but they didn't do anything too silly. I'm thankful I don't have to worry when he's out with his friends.

... new and long-time blog friends. You just can't beat the rush of checking in and finding a comment or two waiting to be read. Thanks for being there, everybody!

Priorities

#2 left his bike at the park across the street last night. He had ridden over to the park after supper, joined up with some neighbourhood friends, then walked home, forgetting that he had even taken his bike.

When he went back across the street to retrieve it, it was not there.

Normally, a situation like this would elicit a tirade about responsibility and the value of property from me. Last night was slightly different, though.

#2 was very sorry and very worried, and, as the two of us walked across the street to double-check together, I think he expected to be yelled at. He wasn't.

I think my reaction was a result of this story.

Over the past three or four days, our supposedly safe little province has been holding its collective breath, hoping, praying, and waiting for good news about ten-year-old Zachary Miller, believed to be abducted by convicted pedophile Peter Whitmore.

Yesterday, we were able to exhale.

Zachary - and Jordan Bruyere, a fourteen-year-old boy also caught in Whitmore's web - are now safe and sound, and Whitmore is now in police custody.

Somehow, a missing bicycle doesn't seem like a big deal.

Awful August

I've always had a place in my heart that hates the month of August.

August has never been anything but kind to me - far kinder than most other months. Main Man and I were married in August. Still, once August 1 presents itself, I get this gulp in my throat, this slouch to my shoulders, this leadenness of my spirit. It's the same aura I experience when a person I don't particularly care for or feel comfortable with walks into a room.

When August 1 presents itself on my calendar, it shouts at the top of its lungs, "Your holiday is now half over. What have you done with it?"

I would love to put duct tape over the mouth of August.

I should really love August. Main Man will be taking his holidays soon, and we will be able to do lots of enjoyable family things together. Instead of throwing myself with abandon into these activities, in the back of my mind I will be planning lessons for the fall, or, worse still, feeling guilty because I am not planning lessons.

I will also be brooding over the things I didn't do in July that I had intended to do. Closets will remain cluttered. Boxes of odds and sods will remain in the basement unexplored. Books I had hoped to read will remain closed and lonely.

Well, having now articulated all that bothers me about August, I am making a resolution not to fall into the same old trap.

You are my witnesses: I vow to enjoy August. I will not guilt. I will not brood. I will not mope.

I will revel in my family and in the sunshine. I will walk barefoot on the lawn. I will lie on a blanket on the beach and read. I will buy junk at the street fair. I will let ice cream drip on my chin. I will savour a delicious dinner out on our anniversary - with no guilt-induced thoughts of expense or calories.

There - I always feel better when I have a plan.

Welcome, August.