electric mist

do they have a union for that?

random observations for a Thursday...

Every afternoon, now that it's warming up (it was over 80 today), there is the typical rite-of-passage, the one moment when I know spring is upon us and winter is over: I am bombarded with the tinny clanging of music from the ice cream man. In a world where we have amber alerts, where kids are snatched, where we don't let them talk to strangers or go to a friend's house without double-checking the background of all adult units who may be present, we still let our kids chase down a painted and decaled van where they can buy a bar of ice cream for $2.50 instead of getting it at the grocery store for a fourth of that price. I have often seen kids zooming by on bicycles, trying to catch him, because they weren't quite ready with their money as he sped by (this guy drives way too fast), and they practically race their bikes in front of his truck to get his attention. This is a disaster waiting to happen, and I feel like one of those crochety old 80-year-olds we used to make fun of as kids... the ones who said, "Well in my day, sonny...." yikes.

Even so, it makes me wonder, who checks out the ice cream man? I mean, there's not exactly a union for that, is there? Are there background checks? Someone making sure this guy isn't wanted in a few states? What? I'm always amazed at how schizophrenic our trust is... if we had it as a kid, it must still be safe.

~*~

My dog, Dee Oh Gee, has long been housebroken, but we now don't have a fence up in part of our back yard and she can easily wander to the front. To encourage her to not wander off, I started giving her treats every time she came back to the door to be let in. It took her a couple of months to catch on, but man, she loves those treats. Well, I'm out. And I'm not going to the store in the middle of the night. But if there's anything that would make me do so, it's the sight of that very confused face, big brown eyes just not understanding.... "What? I went! I peed! I came back! No treat? Don't you still LOVE me? My heart is breaking!"

She doesn't have many tricks, this dog, but she is an expert at the broken hearted expression. I can almost see her holding back the tears. oy.

~*~

And in other pet news, apparently the "sick" cat has finally decided to forgive me my transgressions of daring to rearrange my own office. She spent a week sulking in another room, and when that failed to gain her sympathy any longer, she moved into a room closer to me. I would only pet her when she came out of the room and joined the family, and she's finally given up the pouting and has resumed being her normal, loveable self. Only now, she's trying to make up for lost time by being more aggressive about sitting in my lap or somewhere on my body 24/7; preferably in any position which most hinders me writing.

She has also decided this meowing thing is pretty cool. She used to never make a sound. Ever. Oh, she was capable, but she just didn't. I can't get used to her meowing for every little thing, now. Who knew cats could do the terrible twos?

Posted by toni at March 30, 2006 11:32 PM