Category Archives: David

I have a horrible, horrible nightmare about Scout

If you're going to wake up from a horrible nightmare, Bandit is the dog you want to comfort you. (This was while we were snacking on goldfish crackers, just before we went to sleep.)

I had a dream last night that I was lying in bed, tossing crackers to Bandit (which isn’t too far from reality, since not long before we’d been snacking on goldfish crackers in bed) when all of the sudden Scout jumped up to get some treats. I said, “Hey, wait, you’re not supposed to be here!” And Scout replied, “I don’t wanna go yet.”

The thing was, in my dream Scout looked terrible. Sick and thin and really rough. It was horrible. I tried and tried to scream – you know how it can be in a dream. Except I apparently started screaming out loud, because I woke to David standing over me trying to rouse me, and Bandit lying across my legs trying to help him. It must have sounded bad for David to get up, because he will occasionally tell me in the morning, “You were yelling in your sleep last night,” but he doesn’t check on me. He says if he hears me and also hears the dogs making a fuss, he’ll know something’s wrong.

When I woke last night, I was gasping for breath and crying hysterically. My God, it was horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Poor Scout. It was this weird mix of wanting him to stay and wanting him to go – stay, because I love him so much, but go, because … well, he’s dead and the Scout that wanted to stay was not my Scout. (This morning it made me think of that movie, “An American Werewolf in London,” where the one guy keeps coming back a little more gruesome than the last time. I don’t want Scout to visit me like that.)

I told David, “I am so not going back to sleep. I’m not ever going to close my eyes again.”

It was really late so I sent him back to bed and Bandit crawled up to lie next to me. I felt really compelled for some reason to pull out my devotional Bible (every couple of years I read through the entire Bible); the Psalm for yesterday reads in part, “…O Lord, heal me, for my bones are troubled; my soul is also greatly troubled …” (Psalm 6: 2,3)

I pulled out a book of crosswords and I did puzzles until I guess I fell asleep with the light on. During the night I must have woken up enough to shut the light off and crawl under the covers. I woke this morning completely exhausted, groggy, and with a splitting headache.

To be honest, I would have been really freaked out by the thought that Scout’s spirit was haunting me – hence the dream – except that Bandit was pretty much unfazed. He clearly wanted to comfort me, but he wasn’t anxious or upset. I know it sounds crazy, but I believe that animals are much more in tune to the spiritual world than we are sometimes. (Remember that time I took Bailey to walk in the cemetery and all she wanted to do was hang around Kali Poulton’s grave?) If Bandit had been acting weird last night – whining or barking or in any other way disturbed – I would have packed up and moved to a hotel.

I don’t know what brought on the dream. I was feeling pretty good yesterday, although I did talk about Scout a few times. But that’s no different than the last few days. All I know is that I DO NOT want to ever have that dream again. In fact, I don’t really want to close my eyes again for a while. I want to think about Scout happy and healthy in heaven, not sick and wasting away as a spirit not ready to leave.

Adventure Girl strikes again, which is why Darling Husband may be a teeny bit cranky tomorrow

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If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be married to Adventure Girl, just ask yourself, “Why is Darling Husband so cranky?”

I had the brilliant idea this week to put flower boxes on the gate that goes across the driveway to keep the dogs in the yard. It’s a wonderful gate that Darling Husband constructed after I experimented last summer with chicken wire and snow fencing. An unsuccessful experiment, I might add.

I thought the window boxes would serve two purposes: look pretty, and hopefully give the dogs a reason not to jump on the fence. Because these dogs jump on the fence and eventually someone is going over. (Again; last week Scout took a flying leap and sailed right over. But that was a fluke.) I figured a visual barrier would help.

I bought the boxes and gave Darling Husband instructions on where I wanted them hung, leaving him to figure out how to do it. He’s an exacting kind of guy and I knew he’d make sure it was done right. I could tell he had some doubts about what I was doing, but over the last year or so he’s stopped arguing with me. Or in his words, “I give up.”

And so he hung the boxes. And I planted the flowers. And doggone it, they look fantastic. Even he said so.

Then he brought up the one thing I hadn’t considered: that the weight of the boxes on one side of the fence might cause the gate to be unstable. I kind of remember him bringing that up before he started the project, but I ignored him, and he was in an amiable mood and figured this was one of those projects where, if it didn’t work out, it could be undone fairly easily.

So the plants look great. But sure enough, he’s right. Try and open the gate. It’s super top heavy.

Ooops.

So now he’s out there trying to figure out a way to shore up the gate without having to put a post actually into the driveway.

Darling Husband is a man of many ideas, some of them good, some of them exceedingly more complicated than they need to be. It’s best if I stay out of this fix it situation. The flowers look great, and he’s still in a pretty good mood from the success of that.

But if he’s cranky tomorrow at work, just know that it’s not your fault. Adventure Girl struck again.

A day at the funny farm, in pictures & video

Today, darling husband was getting rid of a tree stump and some trees to get ready for the fence guys. The hens were out scratching for bugs, Scout was hiding by the house because he’s afraid of the chickens, and Bandit … well, as you can hear in the video, Bandit was just being Bandit.

(c) 2010 Joanne Brokaw All rights reserved

Sound the alarm!

(c) 2010 Joanne Brokaw All rights reserved

Darling husband taking a break to get the deer update from the field. He'd rather be hunting.

(c) 2010 Joanne Brokaw All rights reserved

When the chain saw broke, darling husband got resourceful and pulled out the circular saw.

(c) 2010 Joanne Brokaw All rights reserved

Gee, look how much room we have without those stupid bushes.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

Back at the ranch, there have been a few bumps in the roofing road.

Yay! It’s a new week, and what better way to start than with a Tim Hortons double double coffee and an old fashioned dip donut – and a trip to Country Max for chicken feed! And all with Scout and Bandit!

I left the dogs in the Jeep while I went into Country Max to pay for the food, and when the guy came out to put it in the back of the Jeep, Bandit hopped out and took a little tour of the warehouse. Scout, of course, stayed in the vehicle, mostly because I said, “Who wants to go to Timmy’s for donuts?” and he’s afraid of new stuff. Bandit , fearless as always, first had to make sure there wasn’t something more tasty among the feed bags before settling for a plain Tim Bit.

I’m loving the Jeep. I mean, love love loving it. I can fit both dogs, a 50# bag of layer crumbles, and a plastic tote of dog stuff with loads of room to have two stinky, drooling dogs hopping over the seats while we go through the drive through.

Happy Sunday, and happy new week!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, David is hanging out with Jay and his Uncle Jeff, who are doing the roof. Turns out it’s a little more complicated than originally planned. Seems that what was supposed to be a tear off now requires the replacement of plywood and the edging wood. All of this is making darling husband a little antsy; he wants to help, they don’t really need his help. Although he did pick up all of the torn off shingles last night so they could start fresh today and hopefully be finished.

A discussion of roofing, schedules, and the fate of the Western world.

Although while they were having a pow wow, I heard talk of “If we don’t finish today …” and “I can cancel Tuesday and Wednesday…” and “I don’t know how this happened but I know it’s your fault.” Fortunately, there was also a lot of laughing so I think it was all in fun.

Either way, the week is looking up already. The roof is getting done and there’s been very little disruption. There’s nothing on the calendar until Saturday. I have my wheels back, and the sun is shining despite the fact that the weatherman called for rain all day. The barking has been kept to a minimum, because the dogs are outside with David, and in a couple of weeks the new fence will be up, which will hopefully put an end to the majority of the “Hey, I can see you but I can’t get to you” frustration barking.

Hallelujah! Let’s take a nap!

Update: The roofing guys found some work for David to do and Scout and Bandit have found lots to bark at. I did get in a nap – about 1/2 hour of sleep in 5 minute increments over 2 hours. Plus pizza!

It’s been a long, long week at the funny farm

It was a tight squeeze for the dumpster delivery guy getting that thing up our driveway. Notice the hedge.

I just woke up from a nap, and trust me, I needed it.

All week I’ve been dealing with the dogmobile and the mechanic. The Jeep needed to be inspected but the “check engine” light was on. So the mechanic turned it off and told us to drive it to see if the code would turn off .

Trust me, this was not my idea.

On Tuesday, David drove the car around and brought it back; codes still pending. Over the next three days I put more than 300 miles on the car and went to the mechanic’s about 8 times before I finally convinced him (and you know who, who thought this was a good idea) to just fix the dang thing. Then once it was fixed we had to wait until the code cleared. Another 100 miles or so and several trips back and forth yesterday. I finally told the mechanic to just fail the inspection and give me the stupid 10 day extension letter because I was not coming back today.

That’s the condensened version, trust me.

At the same time, we’re having the garage roof fixed, so the dumpster was delivered this week and the roofers have been here all day today.

The dumpster delivery guy broke our outside light backing up his monster truck; it’s a tight squeeze up the driveway so I’m not surprised. But I was surprised when, after he told me he broke it, he said I might want to sweep up the glass so the dogs don’t get hurt. Kinda thought maybe he should have done that.

And the dogs have been giant pains in the rear end today, barking at the roofing guys.

I took them (the dogs, not the roofers) for a nice long walk on the Erie Canal path, hoping it would tire them out so we could come home and take a nap. (You can see more pics on the Bark Around Town blog.)

Scout and Bandit on the Erie Canal path

They seemed good and pooped out when I got home. But no luck. They’ve still barking every 5 minutes at everything. And I can’t just let them out to roam around the yard (which would help; they’d just sit around and watch the guys on the roof), because of the mess in the yard, which won’t be gone until tomorrow.

The good news is that the Jeep has passed inspection fair and square, with no jerking around the system. And despite the barking, I did get a nap. In short 10 minutes spurts. Because while the dogs were barking at the roofers, they were also barking at the neighbor’s lawn guy, who has a penchant for trimming only one side of the hedge, leaving both long, ratty branches intact and clippings all over our side of the hedge.

See the hedge before in the dumpster picture. Maybe the lawn guy thought there was so much going on in our yard we wouldn't notice he didn't finish the job and left the clippings.

But  tomorrow starts a new week. Yay. All I can say is that I’m glad I bought three bottles of wine last night. Because I think I’m going to need all of them.

PS: My daughter just called me from the mall and asked me if I would, and I quote, “throw her black fleece in the wash” so she can wear it tonight. Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Because what I really want to do right now is laundry.

Ah, hunting season! Arrows, antlers and all things camo

Darling husband and his mule deer in Wyoming

It’s official: hunting season is here.

Today is opening day of bow hunting season here in Rochester, a day that’s been eagerly anticipated by darling husband and his friends and family. His cousin Christine lamented this week that she wouldn’t see her husband for the next couple of months.

She’s got it good. Hunting is on my darling husband’s mind 365 days a year.

Officially, hunting season is just a few months out of the year. In reality, though, it’s a year-round activity that includes planning food plots, planting food plots, managing food plots, studying deer habits, scouting perfect tree stand locations, hanging tree stands, organizing hunting equipment, walking the land, and getting together to talk about hunting.

And let’s not forget the countless hours spent pouring over the Cabela’s cataloges, ordering stuff, trying out stuff, sending stuff back, and getting new stuff. The customer service reps for Cabela’s deserve a gold star and a big bonus for dealing with darling husband’s inability to make a decision and stick with it.

As much as I  joke, I understand the obsession with the activity. Some men play golf, some play poker, my husband likes to be in the woods. At least we get a tasty meal out of it.

What I don’t get is the need for all of the stuff.

Take a look at one wall of darling husband’s hunting room, or as our daughter calls it, “the kill room”: Continue reading

The week in review

Scout, Dali and Bandit have a pawjama party this week.

It’s been a long week here at the Funny Farm.

My mom’s sister passed away Monday and I just wasn’t able to make the drive to Massachussetts for the funeral. My mom went up for the week, and on Wednesday Cassie decided to head up for a few days herself, leaving Dali with us.

For a minute I thought about going with Cassie. If she was driving, I figured I could lie down for the trip. But when I kind of floated the idea, David said, “You’re not leaving me alone with three dogs.” I don’t blame him. Two dogs is enough trouble. And I probably would have made my back worse with all of the travel and activity anyway.

Continue reading