Would it be so bad to let my dog have balls?

This in the email today:

Dear  BEEZLE,

How are you? We just wanted to remind you that

you are due for your following:

11/11/2011             CASTRATION CAN. UNDER 50 LBS.

11/11/2011             MICROCHIP w/Dr service & registration

Please tell your owners to call us for an appointment soon!

Your friends at the Veterinary Hospital

Beezle did not pass on the message.  He is considering leaving town.  Since I am leaving town that weekend, I am considering letting him pass on his erm, checkup.


Would it be so bad to let my dog have balls?  They are small and very furry.

My name is Vampire Tiger

This evening Wren asked me why we gave him such a boring name.  He said wanted "a cool name" instead. 

"We called you Wren because we though it was a cool name" I told him.  "What is a cool name you would like?" I wondered.

"Oh, you know, like TIGER or VAMPIRE.  I like Wren.  So, instead of (names changed for publicity purposes) Wren Victor Smith I would be Wren Vampire Tiger."

"Oh"  I said.  I mean, what is there to say.

"Yeah, or Wren Vampire Smith."

"Well, you can change it when you get older if you like."

"Okay," he said "and where are my mushrooms?  I want to eat more of our mushrooms before my Otter Pop."

Wren has developed a great appreciation for foraged mushrooms as the season of all things fungal comes into the Northwest.  Last weekend we collected 3 lbs of chanterelles on Vashon and I bought another 7 lbs at the store where they were on sale for $3.99 a lb!!! I have never seen them that price before.  I wish I had bought more but I have to cook and preserve these first.  People here call them 'shanties'.

I have also enjoyed a snack of coprinus micaceus (Shiny cap) for the first time. I identified them in the forest but didn't know they were edible and collected them later in our neighborhood on a rotted buried log.

I ate these for a snack on my pasta tonight.  Wren said "they taste like water"

I also ate mixed boletes (birch bolete and suillus luteus  slippery Jack) from the neighbors yard.  All utterly delicious.

Mixed Vashon chanterelles and boletes from the neighborhood

Some bread and lots of dumbass dogpoop

So the yeast relationship is developing well.  Yesterday, I produced my first wild-yeast sourdough bread after 14 hours of courting.  There was the kneading and the waiting, the cooling off period and the time it played hard to get (when I tried to put it in the oven without a baker's peel to move it from the counter to the hot baking stone without losing its shape, I used an old co-op preschool placemat which was laminated over the 3 year old faces.)

My bread came out bloody delicious.  It has a lovely hollow ring to it, a great crust, moist and even centre and a slight sourdough tang.  It is perfect with salted butter, wickeder than perfect with camembert and homemade cherry preserve.

RECIPE:  From Macrina Bakery Cookbook

My yeast friends!

Due to beginner's mis-timing, the bread came out of the oven at 10.45pm and so it wasn't really ideal for breakfast.  I am still pleased and forcing it on everyone.  I say "isn't my bread delicious?"

Wren says "did you kill the yeast pet?"  I have been calling my yeast culture a "pet" as I feed it daily with some enthusiasm.

I say "no, I picked some of its apples" although that is not a realistic analogy for the biology involved.  It was easier to explain than "it had 100 000 brothers and I only killed half of them."

Frost said "when I ate your bread for lunch I thought is this bread from a store?  It is SO DELICIOUS.  Your bread is now my favorite snack!"

Frost has always been a charmer.  He knows how to please.

Before you read the next section you have to see
our dog Beezle so you know how cute he was an how we
let him be such a crappy crapper.

The Thief
The thief has nothing to do with me.  Its Joshua's dog.  [Ever notice how beloved things become someone else's problem when they are one?  Well, I think that its Joshua's part of Beezle that is now a troubled child.]

Beezle continues to have problems understanding where we want him to poop and pee.  Our plan is that he poops and pees outside on the grass 90% of the time and if he cannot get out in time (due to being left inside overnight or while we are out) he can pee on the thoughtfully placed piddle pads in the bathroom.

Beezle believes that we want him to pee and poop outside first thing in the morning, in the bathroom (whether or not a piddle pad is thoughtfully provided) and on plush surfaces (preferably around tables) if one is available any time.

Tonight, Josh stood in a poop in the den downstairs and walked it around the carpet a bit.  I discovered a crop of pee in the living room after Frost asked why the room "smells spicy and fruity."  He also pee-ed on the bathroom floor but missed the mat nearby.

On Sunday, I took him to University Village - the high end shopping precinct which is pretty dog friendly (to cater to the eccentricity of the affluent) and we went to Storables.  As soon as we crossed from the wooden floor to the carpet, Beezle squatted to poop!

I was mortified.

I carried him in the store for 10 minutes, unwilling to check if poop was hanging out or I had caught it in time.  Wren kept opining to all staff and other customers who caught his eye:

"Our dog is a DACHSHUND called BEEZLE, he is 8 MONTHS OLD. He is a CHOCOLATE TAN DAPPLE.   He LIKES TO POOP and PEE ON CARPET!"

Today, he added:

"WHEN HE IS PARALYZED he can't POOP or PEE anymore.  It won't come out so you have to SQUEEZE HIS SIDES to make the POOP come out."

Nobody at Daly's Home Decoration knew what to make of this pronouncement although the shop assistant kindly mouthed reassuring things at me.

This addendum came from us giving Wren dire explanations of what could happen to a dachshund if its back was broken due to careless handling.  He seemed fascinated, not unduly disturbed.

Anyway, the thief part doesn't come from a reference to Beezle stealing my sanity with his dumbass toileting but due to his obsession with chicken poop.

Wren's preschool has free-range chickens.  Beezle loves to eat chicken poop!  For god's sake where is Natural Selection when you need it?   He doesn't get sick, we all just get grossed out.

Well, over the weekend I fertilized our lawn with natural organic fertilizer with a chicken poop ingredient. In Beezle's mind it is as if I sprinkled the entire lawn with bacon bits.  He can't go and "do it" or "hurry up" (our euphemisms for toilet behaviours) out there anymore.  It would be like 'going' on a pizza.  Instead of peeing he just walks around with his nose in the grass trying to shovel up granules of organic fertilizer.

And he won't eat the gourmet raw diet I bought him for $17.99 a bag.

So, that's my complaint of the day. But the yeast worked.  My advice is if you are considering getting a pet, get a sourdough culture.  It froths kindly at you, eats only a bit of flour daily and if you want to go on holiday you can eat your pet before you leave.

A date with my yeast

You know how us mothers always do things for the kids?  Well, its screwing with my mind.  I am starting to have flashbacks of singlehood in which I have the luxury of melancholy, keep quiet for hours and I listen to music of my own choice
.....[without explaining "What is major Tom DOING?" ]

Loud
....[without anyone asking if it is a Dance Party / saying you are giving me a HEADACHE / or doing crazy and barking or hiding]

and I think about actually doing something I want to do in spare time rather than just consume entertainment to chill out. 

I have been trying to draw and paint but while I have been able to do technical practice drawings with Wren, its hard to connect with yourself and CREATE while having a loud and demanding relationship with a persistent and intense 4 year old.  When I try and connect with my inner image all I see is myself vanishing into a dark wood transforming into a wolf and leaving them all behind.  I think this is the middle-class equivalent of a child raised by wolves - a mother lost to the wolves in the throes of a vision quest.

So, tomorrow I am doing something for myself, with my yeast, the wild yeast I enticed to grow in a rather disgusting looking culture that has sat on our countertop for the best part of 3 weeks being fed every day or so and frothing productively.

I have a baking stone and am planning on trying to make the sourdough loaf from the Macrina Cookbook. 

As with all blind dates, this might end badly but so what?  Hey?  I have been so busy that I haven't even been mushrooming in the mountains yet and its almost the second week of October.  What is that about?  

Anyway, this morning Wren was thrilled to find a packet of Frosted Flakes that had been overlooked after a summer camping trip.  He had the bowl in front of him but no spoon and demanded one.  I gave him a clean spoon and in his joy he sang:

“I got a beautiful new shiny spoon that glimmers in the sunshine!”

I hope he feels a similar rapture at my yeast-risen bread.

Beezle is chewing on the furniture "TSSST" says Josh.  "Don't eat this desk! Don't do it."  Beezle stares at him lovingly until his attention wavers and he starts to chew the desk again.

The Age of Analogy

I doubt I'll ever catch up on the backlog of memories I hoped to impart via the blog.  I have the walks in the woods with Dad, our camping near Deception Pass with preschool, walks with Beezle, dinners out and various important moments in each child's life.  

However, if I am ever to blog again I must acknowledge my infirmities (that absence of time and will, that need to watch Grey's Anatomy or read another crime novel instead of blogging) and move on with the present which is still crisp enough to touch.

You know they write about the terrible twos and horrible threes.  Developmentally,  Wren at 4 has entered the Age of Analogies.  He has always been intense, creative and dramatic and has now learned that simile and metaphor in his speech adds intensity to his demands as in this morning's:

"I cannot find the iPad and that is breaking my heart into little pieces as small as germs!"

or the later 

"You are not listening and my heart is broken into millions of tiny pieces!"

Its not that I am a bad mother, playing Xbox while he withers with neglect.  Wren talks ALL THE TIME.  I asked him about it in the car after speaking firmly to him (a bit meanly, actually) asking him to Please.  Keep.  Quiet. for a few minutes.

"But if I keep quiet you will not know I am there!"  he complained.  Frost tries to win us a bit of time by encouraging Wren to play the Quiet Game where the person who stays quiet longest wins but really, its only 2 minutes max before he starts to ask if he has won yet.

Amidst the constant commentary on feelings and observations Wren is also fond of sharing his wisdom.  As we walked  to fetch Frost from the busstop Wren told me that he knew "baby trees are called saplings.  They fall from big trees and grow up into small shrubs you can plant somewhere else."

I was impressed.

"Did you learn that on your nature walks?" I asked, thinking that his Waldorf preschooling was bearing fruit. 

"No, I learned it on Minecraft!  In Minecraft if you smash up a tree for wood to make a block of wood then bits fall down and make saplings so I knew that baby trees are SAPLINGS!"

"See, computer games ARE Educational." said Frost, with some delight.

"You are giving me a headache making me sit here. ARRGH"

Wren with a large pop sculpture downtown on Dad's visit to Dahlia Lounge

  FACTS and FANTASIES

• I have lost my digital camera and can only take pictures with an old camera that is the size of an old SLR thus we have no new photos.
• Wren is going to school 3 days a week now, not 4.
• Wren is getting a neuro-developmental assessment in the weeks ahead (as recommended by his cardiologist before kindergarten),
• We are starting to look at Kindergarten's for Wren next year;
• Beezle is showing an interest in eating shoes but so far has only eaten paper, lego and plastic packaging, and half a chocolate donut Frost left in the car with him;
• I foraged the first 2 cups of chanterelles of the season but have not been on a serious forage since the rains WHERE ARE MY FORAGING FRIENDS & FAMILY!!!?????
• Halloween is coming up and we are considering creating a scene of zombies at our dinner table;
• My 19 year old sister has rubella;
• My step-mother fell off her bike and broke a rib but is still taking a business trip to China (or India);
• I am ready for Winter, almost.  I just need to repair the roof.  "Hey Josh.... we need to call that guy about the roof."

Dad's Visit: Golf at Chambers Bay

Thanks to one of Josh's colleagues, we booked Dad in to play a round of golf at Chambers Bay in Tacoma.  For those not in golfing circles, Chambers Bay hosted the US Amateur Golf Championship and is scheduled to host the US PGA Open in 2015.  It is a Links course, described on the website as follows:

"Centuries ago on the Linksland of Scotland where native grasses meander between the coastal sand dunes and the sea, the game of golf was born.   Providing both inspiration and challenge, the elements defined the experience.  That tradition continues today at Chambers Bay."

Both Dad and I like to rise early, and since it was predicted to be a hot day Dad took an early tee-time of 7.45am.  That meant leaving Seattle at 6.15am to get there in good time.  He borrowed Fred's father golf clubs and borrowed a driver, arriving in time for a shuttle bus to take him to the first tee along with 3 other players signed up for that time.  One of the men was a local celebrity (we have been unable to track him down but he appears to have been a pro or businessman of some standing, getting VIP treatment) and Dad enjoyed the golf a great deal.

Dad (figure on the right) warming up by the tee-off point.

Another view of the course as they move off.

The sun finally makes it over the ridge to light our walk.

While Dad spent 4.5 hours going around the course, Wren and I planned to take a small walk /scoot around a section of the golf course and then head up to the Chambers Bay Grill.  Unfortunately, I misheard the information about the trail length.  I thought it was 3/4 mile but it was 3-4 miles.  Wren and I bravely scooted and walked 3.5 miles up and down around the entire perimeter BEFORE BREAKFAST!!! 

Wren taking a break with injuries.

8am.  2.5 miles to go.

To make it worse, after a mile of scooting, Wren had a bleeding blister on his heel.  I told him to take off his shoe and carried it.  Every second person pointed out that my child was "missing his shoe!"  (Americans are very helpful and nosy and worried about bare feet so there was a perfect storm of helpfulness along the trail).   The bare foot made it hard for Wren who usually uses his shoe to drag behind him as a brake on the downhills.  And there were Some Steep Downhills!

"I have not dropped my shoe"

This hill is too steep to scoot UP!

Warning of the steep hill!  Will the bare foot be enough of a brake?

No!  This hill is too steep to scoot DOWN!

Thank goodness the food and coffee at the Grill were worth waiting for.  In fact, it was such a wonderful destination that I would consider driving down there one day just to do the walk and brunch again.  Wren ordered the kids bear pancake and it was one of the most entertainingly presented meals he has seen.  He ate it ALL up.  My eggs were great although I forgot to hold the bacon (or I did, but it came anyway).

Chambers Bay Grill - Kids Bear pancake 10/10

After the walk and breakfast it was only 9.30am so Wren and I headed over to Point Defiance Zoo (or Poindefine zoo, as Wren calls it), making it back in time to meet Dad for lunch again at Chambers Bay.  Dad enjoyed his meal of seafood but should have had the burger as they looked excellent.

Dad and Fred's Dad's clubs have lunch at the Grill

Dad and Wren at the entrance to the Pro Store

It was a very happy day and I am so glad we made it down there.  Now Dad has left I am looking back on it as one of the real holidays of his vacation.

"Mom, can you write a birthday list now."

Wren's birthday is many months away but he has asked me to write his birthday list.  Now.

He says:  "I will have for birthday a ghost yard, a graveyard and a moving zombie that crawls and maybe a carousel but they cost $200 or something.  I also want a cookie jar for Halloween and I would also like some dollars on money for the iPad Dragonville game because I accidentally deleted a dragon. 

I would like a Magic the Gathering deck builder box.

A kids' knife to do cooking cutting work.

A new hat from the hat shop because I lost my hat.

And a building structure like a castle that I can play in my room.

And I would like a 5 cents and that is all."

Where God Comes down

This morning the kids and I went on a walk on the way to school.   We passed an intersection in Wallingford where the community has painted a section of street with a large "street mural" of a turtle.

The turtle on Interlake and 41st

As Wren scooted past he looked at it and said portentously:

"That is where God comes down to meet the world!  Because it is bright with light.  God comes down there and he is part monster and part animal.  He is half of everything mixed up.  He is half a scooter and half a flower.  He is half and leaf and half a dog.  He is all things mixed up.  He comes down there because he knows all about who GOD IS and he even made museums [we saw Buddha and Ganesh carvings at SAM last week] because he is in museums and knows all about where god is!"

What can you say to that?  Perhaps we should avoid Catholic school.

Dad (who lives in South Africa) was visiting for 3 weeks and Wren and I enjoyed a great deal more culture, dining and recreation than usual (and somewhat less work and sleep).

Dad is very interested in Asian art, in particular in "Netsukes"
We visited the Capitol Hill SAM Asian collection in search of them.
Wren's favorite section of the SAM Asian Collection was the snuff box display.

Wren was very interested in all the Gods and Icons in the museum.
This is a very ancient bronze of a demon.

 Meanwhile, as the weather has turned colder and Beezle shivered from time to time, I took him to a dog shop in search of winter gear.

"I am not going out with Beezle in a coat."  said Joshua.  He is of the opinion that that is what fur is for.  I consider Beezle in need of another one, however, at the dog store all the coats were designed for shorter bodied dogs and they referred us to Weener Dog websites where we might find better apportioned clothing.   I am also considering cutting up a favorite OILILY sweater both boys have outgrown to make Beezle his own coat like this.

Devil Dog - Beezle Tries on a devil sweater that is too small.

Frost in his new hat

Dad bought Frost a hat for his birthday gift.  Frost had wanted this
hat a while ago but thought it was not the best style.  He disagrees.

Note the T-shirt "VIDEO GAMES RUINED MY LIFE
GOOD THING I HAVE TWO EXTRA LIVES"

This is Dad's favorite picture.  He likes the one eye visible.

I am not influenced by Justin Beeber.

And with a different look, Joshua is kitted out to
exterminate yellow-jackets (wasps) at night.  He received
multiple stings from a nest in our garden that was
disturbed during the house-warming.  The spraying succeeded
and we avoided having to call pest control.  YES!

Frost's First Day of Fifth Grade

Frost started fifth grade today.  Fifth grade is the final year of elementary school (like primary school) and after this he will go to middle school.  I have been told it is a year where the teachers start to expect more independence from the kids and for them to show they can manage their work.

Frost had the usual first week school bus woes.  The Seattle district is very short of money and are trying to save 4.5 million dollars so they have decided to pick up kids at group stops called "Community Stops" instead of the nearest major intersection or street corner.    Ours is 1.2 km (a bit over 0.7 mile) or 15 city blocks from our house.  It takes us about 18 minutes to walk there with Beezle and Wren.

We arrived a bit early and were the first people at the community stop.  After a while my Dad - who is visiting from South Africa - found another family waiting halfway down the block outside the school.  They said that was where the bus stopped last year.  The bus finally arrived 15 minutes late and stopped at our street corner.  I pointed out the other child waiting down the block but the driver waved his paper at me and said "only one pickup here" and drove off, past the other waiting family.

In the afternoon the bus was late again - half an hour this time.  A mother of a new second grader was wiping tears from her eyes when it finally rolled in.  Apparently they have to check all children on and off the bus with a roster while the drivers become familiar with the kids.

On the walk home from the bus-stop Frost and I talked about school.

He was starving because they get only 15 minutes to eat lunch and lunch is the only food break through the day.  Frost said that Ethan was fine because he had a squeezable Danimals yogurt and could just shoot it into his mouth.  Frost didn't manage to eat enough because I gave him food you have to chew.  He asked if he could have Danimals too.

His teacher is very sweet which "makes up for the lot of homework she gives us.  She said you get 10 minutes per grade you are in and and extra 10 minutes for being in an APP class."  So, he gets 1 hour of homework every night.

He forgot the Geography homework this evening.

Frost was interested to find a tame squirrel by the school path.  A staff-member said it was the school squirrel but not to touch it.  It was eating a choc-chip cookie.

I made cookies for desert and bought Frost sign-spotting 4 which is making him laugh despite the anxiety about the Geography.