Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Happy Tuesday

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Tonight I resisted the lure of the computer and turned off the light at before 10:00 and quickly fell asleep.

A boy and his dog awoke me at 11:18 because the boy needed instructions for turning off the alarm since he thought the dog needed to go outside one last time.
The dog just wanted to run around the deck and eat poopsicles which he did for a while ignoring the boy’s cries to go to his spot or to come inside.
Finally I stormed out to the living room just as the dog pranced to the door.  The boy and the dog hustled back to bed while I locked up and reactivated the alarm.
It is now 1:47 and if you think I am happy to still be awake…
Well, I’m not. 

Needy Jack H.

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The other day Jack was following me everywhere.  I was constantly turning around and running into him.  Every step I took he was right there his nails clicking on the floor.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the dog and his devotion is a beautiful thing, and yet, like anything in excess, it became too much.

And then there was that little bell in my head ringing a warning, but I couldn’t quite figure out what.  It was only when I was taking a shower and Jack pushed his head under the shower curtain and began to delicately lap the water as it ran down the drain, that I recognized what it was.
I think I have myself a Buster. 

A Little Legumage

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No baby yet, at least out here. She’s warm inside. I can’t blame her, I mean we’re talking January in Michigan…tough sell.

Torey and Ren have been coming over the last couple days. This afternoon almost everyone was in the kitchen while I made dinner. I was chopping an onion rather vigorously and a big hunk of it went flying off the island. Normally, anything that hits the floor is fair game for Jack and he knows this; within a second of the onion hitting the floor I heard the scuttling of his nails. Before he was able to swoop I grabbed the onion. Allowing Jack to it, just didn’t seem prudent. Torey read my mind.

“Can you imagine his gas if he ate that!” She asked.

“Ren, Jack’s farts are revolting.” Eden said.

“Oh, what do the smell like?” Ren asked with the convivial tone of a gossiping matron.

“Like dog poop.” Eden said.

For which no one can fault him.

Today

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School is about to be back in session.

No P2-ty yet.

It’s foggy and wet here, but mid 50’s. Paul and I were out early this morning walking Jack and I had on a light jacket and a hat, gloves and boots weren’t necessary. I still slipped on a thick patch of ice and torked my shoulder. I felt like a chicken who had a wing pulled off. I am so thankful for Jack. If not for him, I might have missed the warmth of this day.

And now I get to go do school.