Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Rising Early, Trixie, and GoogleReader Pruning

Don't you just love it when the puppy wakes you up before six o'clock, and then you figure you might as well stay up, since you're awake anyway?

My problem is that (after the first foggy minute or two pass) I'm filled with morning enthusiasm (and I think "hey, this way I'll have a whole hour with the house all nice and quiet-- no distractions!"), only to have that enthusiasm ebb away after a couple of hours unless kept carefully going. I'm just going to have to keep it going!

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I am seriously considering taking someone off my Google Reader.

This person doesn't even know I exist (I'm 100% lurker on her blog and only found her through her comments on another blog where I never breathe a word) so there's no risk of hurt feelings. I started reading because it looked like we had some shared interests, and every now and then I do still enjoy her blog, but slowly it's gotten more and more negative-- and not just in the "drat, the cat just puked on the couch" or "I'm so sick of figuring out what to cook every day" way, because heaven knows I can relate to that only too well (well, not specifically cat puke, but you get the point), but more in the "oh my gosh, the world markets are collapsing" and "half my favorite restaurants are going out of business in this rotten economy" way.

I know we're all bound to be negative from time to time. I know I do it, too, though I hope I'm not this bad about it. . . It has gotten to the point that when I saw this morning that she had written a new post, I debated whether or not to even read it. "If it's something about how awful things are, " I told myself, "I'm probably going to take her off my list." Sure enough, it's basically this: "I had a great birthday, but then I heard on the news about poverty and unemployment in my state." (sigh)

Maybe I'm wrong, here, but that just seems like the opposite of "every cloud has a silver lining"-- something like "it's always raining somewhere" or "every day is someone's worst day"-- both true, I'm sure, but not exactly the sort of thing that braces us for our own worst days.

I'm probably too sensitive to this type of thing, lately, but I'm trying to remove the stones from my shoes before embarking on what threatens to be a long, tiring journey, these next few years. . .

(And with that, I have now successfully turned this entry into the very type of entry I myself am trying to avoid! I'm sorry about that.)

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Did I earlier write about how nice and quiet the house would be for an hour? Strike that and replace it with something about how Trixie would keep barking every fifteen minutes or so, and then when I would open the crate to take her outside, would just stand there and look at me as though she had no idea what an open door was used for, and what on earth made me think she wanted to leave this cozy crate in the first place? . . . (rolls eyes)

Then, when I finally get her out and deposit her on the kitchen step, instead of getting down to business and finding a parcel of earth just begging to become an impromptu puppy toilet, she became sidetracked-- first by the squeaky chicken Molly left outside overnight, and then by drops of water falling from the roof. She was actually pouncing on them and digging, like she thought the weaselly little things had gone to ground, or something. (Well, I guess that technically speaking, she was right. . .) (She hasn't had much experience with rain, pampered pooch that she is, and she still doesn't really know what to make of falling water.)

Oh, you crazy little puppy!