If a Dog be Well Remembered

Riley

March 9, 1999 - October 25, 2008

We are thinking now of a dog, whose coat was flame in the sunshine and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This dog is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season the cherry strews petals on the lawn of her grave. Beneath a cherry tree or an apple or any flowering shrub of the garden is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, she slept in the drowsy summer or gnawed at a flavorous bone or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death.

Yet it is small matter. For if a dog be well remembered, if sometimes she leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where the dog sleeps. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees roaring, or beside a stream she knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pastureland where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained and nothing is lost -- if memory lives.

But there is one best place to bury a dog. If you bury her in this spot, she will come to you when you call -- come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they shall not growl at her, nor resent her coming, for she belongs there. People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by her footfall, who hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth knowing.

The one best place to bury a dog is in the heart of her master.

(written by Ben Hur Lampman & published in the Sept. 11, 1925 issue of the Portland Oregonian)

My Fall comfort food

Acorn squash baked with butter and salt and served with a side of zucchini browned in olive oil.

Mmmmmm. Takes me back to my college days and crisp afternoons with Jody, grabbing a bite after or between classes. I can't eat this without thinking of you dearest!

Pumpkin Patching

We went pumpkin patching (as Noah calls it) today. It was a glorious morning, much warmer than in years past. This is a deluxe pumpkin farm with a petting zoo, a playground, a hayride, corn maze and pumpkin patch.

Watchin the funny little pigmy goats on top of their tin-roofed lean to.

Bah bah black faced sheep, have you any wool? Isn't she beautiful? I think her name is Connie.

Bronwen can usually be found wherever the ponies are. That's my girl. Have I mentioned lately how much I want - have always wanted - a horse?

While we waited for our tractor to arrive for the hay ride, the kids kept busy on the playground.




The big kids made their way very quickly through the maze and kept well ahead of me. Annabelle really really enjoyed the corn and was very ready to show her independence. From her vantage point, you couldn't see the sky unless you looked straight up, yet she was unfazed.

After the kids had found their perfect little pumpkins we had lunch, picked out a big pumpkin, and  had a little fun with the wagons. Bringing up the rear, Annabelle entertained herself with dance.
 

I think it's a little like a line dance. She must've been feelin a little bit country, being down on the pumpkin farm and all.

Anything with wheels and Noah is pushing, pulling, driving or parking it.

Not to be outdone by her big brother, Bronwen pulled the wagon with all the pumpkins. She's pretty strong!

Time to go home and have naps. Bronwen asked if we could come back after her nap. I think she's going to make a great farm girl. Actually, all three were pretty happy and that makes me happy. Now, we just need our own farm.

And Annabelle is still dancing.

Pink

What else? October the month when we're reminded by the color of pink to do our exams. So, okay, let me see your girly side. What kinds of blushing hued items can you find in your home?

This color stands for beauty, grace and goodness.

My niece's birthday invitation. Everything will be pink and brown, her favorite combination. How perfect it will be! And she is going to be ten. That is hard to believe.

The season's last hydrangea blooms, seen here in the pink light of the late afternoon sun today.

Pink as a color was first recorded in the seventeenth century to describe the pale red flowers of "pinks" a flowering Dianthus.

A little closer for the details

a silk flower arrangement given to me by my mother in law when I was just dating her boy.

My granma's jewelry box which is now my jewelry box. Kind of a rose color. Roseus is the Latin word for rosy or pink. Lucretius used the word to describe dawn in his epic poem, On the Nature of Things.

Details on Bronwen's favorite footwear and signature boots. This girl's got style!
Bronwen's doll house - in her favorite color - pink! Unless it's a purple day. A newly built house in our neighborhood was almost ready for siding last week and Bronwen was hoping they would make it purple. I love this little girl and her wonderful imagination. They started the siding yesterday and guess what? It's purple. I am. not. kidding.

As we drove by, I said to Bronwen, "well, honey you got your wish, it's a purple house."

She dramatically smacked the side of her head and shouted, "what was I thinking!"

But today's color is not purple so let's get back to it: 
Tiny pink suede shoes for a tiny pair of feet.

In our western culture, the assignment of pink to the female gender began in the 1940s, but prior to this, baby boys wore pink because it was considered a more masculine and decided color while baby girls were dressed in blue because it was considered more delicate, dainty and feminine.

A very pale pink bowl in my kitchen. It's part of a graduating set of bowls. The other two are pale green and light blue. They make me happy and remind me of Spring which is probably why I use them at Easter. Which reminds me that this year we'll be celebrating Passover a little more completely, but more on that later.

Okay, now it's your turn. I know you have some pink to show off and some of you have never taken the color challenge yet, so this would be a great time to join!

Leave me a comment and I'll come take a look at your pinks.

Inside gardening

I'm trying to save a couple of badly neglected plants. Fortunately they are very forgiving and I expect them to make a full and beautiful recovery.

Funny Feet

That hat

Sunday afternoon tea and cookies with Annabelle. That hat was given to her by her great Aunt and Uncle Martin in Iowa when she was born. It's just starting to fit her and she's just crazy about it. She reminds me of a little American Girl from the 30s.

I think she's watching the squirrels but I wish I knew what was on her mind.