Dog Lesson

Life lesson number 1,376,046.

Do not bring a new puppy into your household just before record breaking snowfalls.

Had these blizzards hit last year I could have arrived home from work, set a fire blazing in the fireplace, and forgotten about the outside world until morning.

Not so with a puppy still learning to master its bladder.

Even more not so with a puppy who loves to frolic in the snow.

It seems I've been outdoors more often in the past week than in the previous two months.

At least now the dog will pee in the snow. After the first snowfall, having just learned that the grass was the place to do her business, the puppy was in mental crisis. She would indicate a need to go out, race through the door, and then pace anxiously in search of green. I ended up having to shovel a section of lawn clear of snow to avoid the dog having a nervous breakdown.

Thankfully green is no longer required for bathroom trips and I no longer have to shovel the lawn in addition to the driveway. Anyplace outside (including the deck) is now considered an acceptable place to squat - because everything beyond the door to the house is the same uniform white.

Which means there is another training challenge waiting in the wings. Teaching the dog that the deck is no longer an acceptable pit stop location once the outside world returns to normal.

Media 18

Media Girl turned 18 today - and she's seriously bummin'

Made prisoner in the house for the past 72 hours compliments of the weekend blizzard, she was unable to spend her momentous day surrounded by friends.

Hoping for at least a brief opportunity to get out of the house, Media Girl decided to go sledding on the snow covered dunes at the beach.

.... Which meant traversing roads that are still ice and snow covered. Alas our four wheel drive vehicle picked today to give up the ghost and Media Girl watched her ticket to freedom ride off into the sunset on the the back end of a tow truck.

All of which leaves Media Girl stuck at home with her parents as still another storm begins to dump snow on the area.

Not an auspicious way to celebrate an 18th year milestone

Snow & Email

Okay, so maybe the groundhog DID see his shadow - and maybe we are in for six more weeks of abysmal weather.

I shoveled the driveway three times Saturday, drove to work Sunday in a world that made me think of nuclear winter, and have been doing still more shoveling after work the past couple days.

I've had no time to sit down at my computer until now - and I made a discovery.

E-mails accumulate almost as fast as snow during a blizzard. When I opened my mailbox today and saw 57 new messages I nearly deleted the lot of them.

I caught myself just before hitting the delete key. There might be some valuable info buried in those messages.

So, just as I'm doing with the 19" of snow surrounding my house, I'll keep chipping away at the mail until I get to the bottom of it.

Positive Rain

Okay, enough already, this isn't funny any more.

In the past three weeks our area has dealt with more snow than the region usually experiences in five years. Now there is a blizzard warning posted for the next two days. Up to eighteen inches of snow with high winds.

Yesterday afternoon the temperatures had moderated enough that I was able to sit on the deck and bask in the sun for an hour. I was certain the worst of the unusual weather was in the past.

Then today at work customers started talking about the approaching storm. I wanted to put my fingers in my ears and shout nah, nah, nah, nah, I can't hear you.

There was no drowning out the din in the grocery store. When I stepped through the sliding glass doors I was hit by a wall of sound that rivaled the echoing roar heard in a sports stadium.

Did you hear we're getting more snow. Oh, I love snow. I'm sick to death of the stuff. We're supposed to have a foot. We're supposed to have two feet. They're calling for three feet and power outages. I need to make sure we're stocked up. Can't be caught without the necessities. It'll be a week before I'll be able to get out again. Conversations and predictions tumbled together creating an avalanche of conjecture.

I went home, put my snow shovel away, and placed my umbrella by the door. The power of positive thinking will turn this into nothing more than a rain event - I'm certain of it.

Threes

It seems it's always bad or sad news that comes in threes - never good news.

Celebrity deaths are a classic example. They come in threes so frequently that whenever we hear of the passing of a celebrity Motivated Mom and I immediately wonder aloud who the next two will be. Even friends call to ask if we've heard the news and to voice their certainty that two more announcements will soon follow.

This week it's been bad news of another kind that arrived in threes. Rather than having far reaching impact, the news was immediate to our family. All three of our vehicles needed some kind of unscheduled repair. Motivated Mom's car needed bodywork and a new windshield. Of the two vehicles that Media Girl and I share, one needed brake repair and the other a new set of tires.

The total figure for the combined maintenance is not a number that generates warm fuzzies.

I could really use a good news trifecta right now. Something along the lines of winning the powerball and the publishers clearing house sweepstakes on the same day that I learn my IRA investments have suddenly tripled in value.

Of course that's not going to happen. Good news doesn't come in threes.

I wonder why that is.

False Shadow

Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow and the northern hemisphere is destined to be subjected to another six weeks of abysmal weather. So say those who gathered in the Pennsylvania wilds this morning.

I take issue with the furry critter's prognostication interpreters. I contend that the groundhog saw his shadow only because of human intervention.

With dozens of reporters and cameramen vying for optimum viewing position, the opening to Phil's den was bathed in more megawatts of artificial light than a runway at Philadelphia International Airport. How could the poor animal help but see his shadow in those conditions?

I submit that had the portable generators been disrupted, had the miles of power cables carried nothing more than the sound of vinyl casing contracting in the eighteen degree weather, had the high intensity bulbs been nothing but empty glass shells, Punxsutawney Phil would have been hard pressed to see the nose on the end of his face much less his shadow.

It is my belief that Phil's emergence from his cozy home should be a for your eyes only event. It's the only way to maintain the integrity of the prognostication. The event should be open to reporters only (no cameramen) armed with nothing but pencils and steno pads.

I venture to say that had those regulations been in place today, we would be preparing for the early arrival of warmer temperatures.

Football Fun

Something occurred to me while I was watching the pro bowl game Sunday night. The players were all enjoying themselves - and not worrying about disabling injuries.

Isn't that the way it should be all the time? Shouldn't football players be able to focus on performing to the best of their abilities without worrying about a severed spinal cord?

Okay, I accept that football is a physical game. I accept the core concept of the game - tackling the guy with the ball - means people are prone to be injured. But it seems to me there should be a way for injuries to be limited to incidental sprains and bruises.

The pro bowl was a high scoring game built on exciting marches up an down the field. Maybe fans could enjoy a greater number of fast paced challenges if the chances of serious injuries were reduced.