Tuesday June 1st: Dax's Birthday and my day off work. Tuesdays off are always planned for, yet scarcely achieved. This Tuesday, no different: calls and texts poured in from 7:30 to 9:30. I had promised my boy a run since we woke, by 9:30, he was mad:
Our general contractor was replacing the roof on a run-in shelter.
And the pool man was requesting a status update on the pool cleaner. Check! We literally ran all over the farm accomplishing management duties, yet, still sort of getting my day off. Dax most excellently tested the pool. A+.
Snatching victory out of the jaws of defeat. Dax got his Birthday run. All 18-1/2 miles of it.
Miss Suki stays within 10 feet of me at all times, so her GPS collar doubles as my own record.
She and I ran 12 miles.
For the love of dogs... they keep me alive. I wouldn't run if it weren't for them.
Their joy of discovery is my pleasure.
The thrumming of Dax and Micah running past me at Mach 1 drowns out the sad slap-slap-slap-slap noise my feet make. With a bum heart, reworked knee and steel plate in my foot, I'm no longer the gazelle whose feet make only the slightly plinking sound at each step. Nope, I've turned into a geriatric moose with a gimpy gait.
Yet, still I plod on. The dogs always wait for me.
Sometimes I wish we didn't have to stop running, keep running, keep discovering.
I could follow these little butts anywhere.
We were heading back when I stumbled upon a cow pattie.
The neighbors lost a cow again, so off we went looking for it.
After my second lap back around the farm, I saw 8 Hueys flying overhead.
Yup, sign from above that it's going to be a great day. My only ride in a helicopter was with my dog Cole, over the mountains in Tennessee. It was pure magic. My pilot had just retired from the military and he performed maneuvers only allowed in Afghanistan. Ever since then, when I see a helicopter, I stop, stare and relive swooping down mountainsides head first.
The perk of living between three military bases.
Happy birthday to my 4 year old Dax.
Nothing better than a good run to turn a destructive dog into a vegetable.
Remember the buggery required to remove the airplane tires from the brush cutter?
Well, inner tubes arrived and tire man wanted the wheels ASAP.
Grumbling a little that I had to leave the farm on my day off... until I saw this on a back road:
Heirloom variety Gladiolus, self propagating in the ditches around here. Yup, gonna be a great day.
Around 3 PM, the dust settled, the phone stopped sending me notifications and Dax's birthday celebration resumed. Meatloaf in the making.
The beginnings of my masterpiece.
The attempt was for it to be Suki's doppelganger.
She seems unimpressed with the mashed potato frosting and sweet potato ears.
My boys, on the other hand, have more discerning palates.
Don't ever share an ice cream cone with Micah, I speak from experience.
We all ate way too much.
All of them are sawing logs and I'm now, finally, about to start my Auditing and Law assignments that I had planned to begin almost 12 hours ago at 10 AM.
Sometimes, plans need to go the way of the dodo bird and turn a bum day into pure magic.
