For Naught

Recovery from the cleaning sickness was assisted yesterday by nearly triple-digit weather.  Sitting still to watch an old movie was almost mandatory.  One of the first things I do upon awakening is try to figure out what day it might be (that comes with retirement, when one day is much like another).  My friend Kit and I have a running tag line, "It's Belgium!," on trash day.  Don't you know that was the film playing?  "If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium," made in 1969 with a very young and quite handsome Ian McShane.  Lounging with feet up, I really enjoyed sitting guilt free in the freshly vacuumed and polished living room.  Bessie either heard or sensed something outside.  When I opened the screen door, she took off like a shot toward the woods.  She coursed through the field and was gone quite some time.  I heard and saw nothing, but trust her instincts.  Bess came back in covered with stickers and matted with burrs, pulling them out and dropping them all over that pristine carpet.  All that work for naught.

As soon as there was enough shade on the deck, I took Bessie out and worked with the clippers to get as much of the stuff as I could from her coat.  Getting her summer puppy cut is not her favorite thing.  Needing both hands to work, I've got to keep one foot on the leash to make her stay in one spot.  There's still much to do, but at least the majority of the matted fur is off.

Before I could get the vacuum cleaner out again, Camille and Honey came by.  Not much good to say, "You should have seen my clean house yesterday."  Oh well.  It was nice while it lasted.