Moon and babbling
Happy Lightning Moon or Dog Moon!
Speaking of dogs... somehow we started talking tonight about different people who took care of my brother and me on weekends when my parents were away. The best was when Mrs. J would come stay with us; I was never very comfortable in other houses with other people's parents. Different routines, different rules, different people, it was all very unsettling. I probably would have been happier if they had given me a sleeping bag and pillow and sent me someplace with lots of dogs and just let the mama dog take care of me all weekend. But we figure if it got out my parents were boarding their daughter at a kennel, it wouldn't have been looked upon well even if I was the happiest puppy in the pound. It's too bad, though. They could have called it "puppy camp."
And speaking of the early days of Rusty, I learned - or re-learned - today that reading makes me extra super reclusive. I can't get into a book without really being absorbed, and then I'm irritable when someone pulls me out of it and can't get my mind back to the present time and place for the rest of the day. Maybe that's normal? I spent most of my childhood removed in that way, so I don't know why I'm surprised. Apparently instead of getting over it, I solved the problem by rarely reading anything longer than 5000 words anymore. Sigh. (That and the "luxury" time aspect: reading is the most luxurious activity because you can't get anything else done while you're doing it.)
Just because...
Speaking of dogs... somehow we started talking tonight about different people who took care of my brother and me on weekends when my parents were away. The best was when Mrs. J would come stay with us; I was never very comfortable in other houses with other people's parents. Different routines, different rules, different people, it was all very unsettling. I probably would have been happier if they had given me a sleeping bag and pillow and sent me someplace with lots of dogs and just let the mama dog take care of me all weekend. But we figure if it got out my parents were boarding their daughter at a kennel, it wouldn't have been looked upon well even if I was the happiest puppy in the pound. It's too bad, though. They could have called it "puppy camp."
And speaking of the early days of Rusty, I learned - or re-learned - today that reading makes me extra super reclusive. I can't get into a book without really being absorbed, and then I'm irritable when someone pulls me out of it and can't get my mind back to the present time and place for the rest of the day. Maybe that's normal? I spent most of my childhood removed in that way, so I don't know why I'm surprised. Apparently instead of getting over it, I solved the problem by rarely reading anything longer than 5000 words anymore. Sigh. (That and the "luxury" time aspect: reading is the most luxurious activity because you can't get anything else done while you're doing it.)
Just because...