Things that go loose in the night....

I've been tired all day.

After spending an evening with friends out and about, I did what I do every evening: let my two grehounds out to take care of business...at 1 a.m. It started off very ordinary, but in a matter of minutes things went to hell in a handbasket in 1.3 nanoseconds.

The hounds were released.

Not on purpose, mind you. Being extremely nimble and very narrow, they quickly escaped on me, and suddenly I was transported into a "Born Free" moment that was neither planned nor welcomed.

After taking off like a rocket, and yes, once again me trailing far behind (and really, someone in my shape and age simply CANNOT catch a greyhound in full stride) looking like a complete jackass, the hounds were loose. It didn't help much that Dillon is jet black, and Siri is brindle (translated: canine camoflage), in the dead of night. It really created a myriad of complications. Fast, nimble, and stealth, and naturally camoflaged. Greyhounds 1, Owner 0.

Apparently a daughter of one of my neighbors happened to be up at the time and said she heard a man yelling outside. She originally was going to call the police thinking it to be a domestic altercation, but then realized after seeing my hefty ass running full speed at 2 miles per hour trying to track down something, she figured out that I was after my animals. At one point the dogs stopped, but then took off once they saw me come close, and then were gone. Rat bastards.

After going around and around the block about 6 times, a guy on the other side of my block just happened to be stepping outside for a cigarette, and tracked me down to tell me that the dogs were just in a persons yard. Who knew there would be so much neighborhood nighttime activity at such an hour? But I did spot them, now 20 minutes into the ordeal.

Well, Dillon really wanted to come to me, but when Siri took off, he thought running with her was the better option, and ended up following right behind. I seriously needed Barbara Woodhouse and a firm "Walkies!" at that moment. Where is she when when you need her?

Eventually they ended up in my next door neighbor's yard, trapped into a corner by a fence row. Busted.

Eventually they came to their senses, and halted their midnight escapade when they knew they were as good as caught. THANK GOD. It also ended the midnight entertainment for apparently more neighbors than I thought, which was more than fine for me.

A Slight Dusting

So here I sit. It's February 1. It's snowing. It's snowing hard.

Cozied up with my favorite bottle of Petite Syrah, I glanced outside. It's blustery. And man is it snowing. I can't see my neighbors' houses across the street. The flagpole looks as if it's a rubber band flapping in the wind. My flag (what's left of it) is flying completely horizontal. It's amazing.

This is what hell freezing over looks like.

I can't help but think of some of the trite comments we often make about the weather, with hope that somehow it will appease us, or at least make us feel like what we're experiencing is not so bad.

The best yet:

1. It's a bit brisk out there.
2. I don't think the hard stuff's going to come down for quite a while.
3. But it's a dry snow.
4. It's just a slight dusting.
5. It'll be gone by tomorrow.
6. It's going to melt overnight.
7. I've seen worse.
8. We need the precipitation.
9. It's not the cold, it's the wind chill.
10. I thought it was supposed to be 70 and sunny.


Anyhow, nothing gets us talking like talking about the weather. As if we can do anything about it.

I'm just hoping I still have the roof on my house by tomorrow. Oh the weather outside is frightful alright. Yes. Hell frozen over.

Things That Go Pop In The Night

I love the 4th of July for many reasons. It's the day after my birthday. I never have to get up to go to work the next day (that is...unless the 4th falls on a Sunday). It's a time where you spend time with family and friends. And its a time where everyone seems to have a good time.

It's the last reason that I am considering eliminating from my list of all the reasons why I love the holday.

I love fireworks. I love how they've really become pretty sophisticated over the years, when drawing your name in the sky with a sparkler, or lighting a charcoal "worm" or smoke bomb was a pretty cool deal. Now...they're pretty much lame. Not having bought fireworks lately, I don't even know if they make the latter, but rather these complicated fountain things, with complicated names that didn't really translate well to English when they were shipped over from China. I mean, what the hell does White Lotus In Black Hawk Transistor Happiness really mean anyhow....?

Anyhow, it seems anymore that there needs to be more lift, more bang, more pizzazz, more fire, etc., anymore for any teenager or adult to even remotely be interested in them. I would tend to agree as well. And, in addition, it seems that teenagers and adults feel the need to start immediately after Memorial Day, and have the festivities last later and later in the evening, reaching its apex about the first of July, where it seems bangs last until 3 am.

People in my neighborhood seem to have been following this practice as of late, and it's really getting out of hand. I like fireworks like any other person, but at 3 am, I don't find them very festive, especially if I've not imbibed in some sort of alcoholic libation, and have to get up early the next morning. Shutting the windows doesn't help. You still hear them, especially with the screechy ones.

I'm open to suggestions as to how to deal with this, and probably will migrate to some "Jackass" type of practical joke on the people, which may result in filing an insurance claim or lawsuit against me. So I sit, counting to 2342, keeping my emotions in check.

Or perhaps I should get that brick of Black Cat firecrackers, find the bastards' home, and light them off on their front porch...at 6 a.m., a time where I happen to be rarin' to go...