Ella will be 12 tomorrow. It's hard to believe I've had her for that long, and yet I can't easily remember a time in my life when she wasn't along for the ride, offering head butts, opinions and sweet puppy kisses. My dogs are each so very different that i don't bother to try and pick favorites, now; each occupies a place in my heart. Ella's breeder remarked to me, when I had her as a bouncy young thing that "You will look back, years and dogs from now, and understand that she is the best dog you'll ever have." Gotta love a breeder who is kennel-blind, no? But she's right, she must be right, I think. Even with only a few years past... anyway, for my sweet gray old lady, who still loves walking in inclement weather,swimming, rolling in goose-poop and worse, catching frisbees and begging incessantly for whatever handout she can talk you out of, a huge Happy Birthday! And many more.
I have a 3 day weekend, my treat after an altogether too-long three day work week. I know that sounds awful to those who are working longer weeks, but really, I had a job interview, gave and graded upwards of 50 tests, had to teach a model lesson before a jury of my peers, dealt with weather and temperature extremes and generally was tried and taxed beyond my tolerance. I have nothing planned, beyond a little grading and a little knitting. I am open to ambition and events coming up, namely the making of banana french toast for breakfast tomorrow morning, as I have a going-stale loaf of home baked bread and some overripe bananas on the counter.
It is a hazy, too-hot, too-muggy day, uninspiring. In conflict with the new moon, which is supposed to be an extremely auspicious one for all kinds of beginnings, but I find myself still mired in the middle of things I need to finish. Fortitude for the long stretch, that's what I ask. Fortitude.