Pictures From Our Week

Here are some photos of our new friends from Taiwan and China; Maureen, Jessie and Lily.

Showin' Some Leg

"Oh, he's got nice legs," she said as I passed by in the hallway!

"There's more where that came from, if you'll go to the dance with me." I didn't say this out loud, I thought it. But I'm sure she wouldn't go to the dance with me, even if my thought was more than just a random quote from Napoleon Dynamite. I'm not even sure she can walk. She's about 80 years old and was scooting herself in a wheelchair by shuffling her slippered feet along the floor, Security in slow pursuit.

I didn't know women look at men's legs. When they do, what kind of pleasure do they get? Do they get a surge of hormones that races like a quick-burning flame through their bloodstream? Or is it more subtle, like walking through an art exhibit where you only realize you're having a good time when you're all done? Whichever it is the pleasure must continue late into life, if this morning's experience has any universal implication.

It took well into the summer for me to get comfortable wearing running shorts this year. Winter was long and dark, and spring was wet and cold. Even when the weather was getting warm enough, I just felt like I was revealing too much thigh; they didn't feel natural. I bought a pair of "man capris," as Margaret likes to call them, for casual wear and for climbing. They aren't man capris, I tell her; they're knickers. There's a difference, gosh! My running shorts feel like bikini bottoms in comparison.

The thing I'm enjoying most about this summer is morning sunlight. I accepted the old system of Daylight Savings. It began when I was 2 years old, so I've never known anything different. But the changes that took place in 2007 mean that 6 am is dark in Minnesota an extra month of every year, and 6 am is when I run to work. Whether the summer mornings are wet or dry, warm or cold, at least there's light.

As I continued down the hospital hallway this morning my admirer commented on my tan. I chuckled as I looked back. She chuckled as she rounded the next corner. And we both enjoyed the start of another summer day.

Blue's Clues

I was warned, fair and square.

While our friends are in Sweden we agreed to watch their 2 dogs for a week. The week was going to start tomorrow, but at the last minute the plan changed and they are at our house starting today. That puts me home alone with 3 dogs and a cat.

When we picked the dogs up from Tony, we heard all about Blueberry's antics, like gobbling down a school lunch from somebody's backpack. Never mind that school has been out for a couple of weeks; Blueberry's iron stomach can handle the most rancid meat. She found a stash of chocolate candies too, and ate them all. We were warned to vigilantly await the digestive results of her over indulgence; it seems she's made a habit of preferring carpet toilets to grass ones this week. Oh, and Firenze like to eat poo, so be careful.

Blueberry and Firenze hadn't been at our house 5 minutes when my pager went off, calling me to the hospital to help with a Lap Chole. Margaret was on her way out of town, so Marco got to be the king of the castle while Blueberry stayed in her crate and Firenze went to the guest room.

When I got home it was dinnertime for the dogs. I was warned to separate them, or Blueberry would eat everybody's food. My plan worked perfectly; Marco ate in the kitchen, Firenze in the sunroom and Blueberry outside. Blue's food was gone in a flash, then she desperately wanted to come inside for Firenze's portion. But since I have a larger brain and a bigger thumb, I kept the screen door closed until Firenze was good-and-finished with his food.

After their dinner I stayed in the sunroom with the screen door open so the 3 dogs could come in and out at will. Firenze stayed at my feet, Marco sauntered in and out and Blueberry ran around the yard. Periodically I'd get up and take a roll call and they all seemed content.

Margaret had warned me not to leave the tiniest bit of food where Blueberry could find it, but no snack goes unnoticed by the canine eating machine, and she found a way to outsmart me. Who could have predicted what she'd find in the flower garden? She was pleased to show me the bird she caught, and even dropped it for Firenze to admire. But when I tried to take it from her she swallowed it down before I could take 2 steps. Who needs a big brain? Who needs a big thumb? Not Blueberry, she's got all she needs for scoring yummy snacks.

I bet Firenze can't wait until that comes out!