Friday, December 14, 2007

More stuff, Lethal's eye, lazy me, etc

What is with the weather??? It’s supposed to be summer, the paddocks are dry and golden and the dams are emptying- but it’s freezing, an Antarctic wind is blowing across the hill and we’re all rugged up like Eskimo.

But just so we remember its summer, the flies are out in force, humming the kitchen, entertaining us all with the musical “tchzz” of their electrocution on the fly-zapper.

I didn’t run last night. Richard got home late (curse daylight saving), the kero hot water system had gone out so there was no hot water for him to shower or bath Jack, so we all ate dinner and went to bed at ten-ish. I’ll run tonight though- I’m already starting to make plans for the next year or so- City to Surf here we come.

Lethal went back to the vet yesterday, 3 days after they removed 3 huge grassseeds from under his third eyelid. Despite regular ointment, it wasn’t getting much better and yesterday he deteriorated rapidly, with the eye becoming markedly swollen and the anterior chamber clouded over a few hours. Vet Kate had a chat with a Perth specialist, and started Lethal on oral antibiotics, changed to a new topical antibiotic (Chlorsig) and added a topical steroid. Today it seems much less red and swollen (I guess we’d expect as much with the steroid), and Lethal is happier in himself, spending every crate-free moment persecuting the cat.

Sybil is booked for her ultrasound next Thursday, so I’ll head up to town Tuesday or Wednesday, try to squeeze in what Christmas shopping we can afford. Maybe I’ll take Bill +/or one of the younger beasties to agility training, catch up with Jules and the skankhouse crew, and torture Tom some more about his choice in dogs. Fingers crossed for Sybil- I think Kriszty is still hoping for a miracle, I’m hoping for a prognosis that allows us to enjoy her for a bit longer.

Plans for the rest of today:
Richard: messing about with tractors
Me: paperwork, paperwork, laundry, paperwork, cook some biscuits to replace the ones R will polish off today, and hopefully squeeze in some training with the youngsters (Ziggy says its her turn!)
Baby Jack: sleeping, banging things, overturning things, manoeuvring around the carpet, lots of titty and eating, bath and bed.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Just me thinking

Ran again last night- well, shuffled down to the road again. It was earlier, lighter (so I took Muddy instead of Sybil and the torch), and hurt more, but still felt good. And again I got to come home to a clean fresh little family, Richard and Jack sitting on the rug in front of our newly decorated Christmas tree, decorating butcher’s paper to wrap presents.

Jack is eagerly racing toward boyhood- nearly crawling, nearly toddling, feeding himself, looking outside our safe little partnership for entertainment. In one heartbeat I’m right behind him, cheering him on, helping him to his unsteady feet and urging him forward on his hands and knees. But in the next, I’m silently pleading with him not to rush, to stay a baby for a while longer, to let me carry him and protect him from all the hurt out there. Maybe its largely selfish- I want to keep him mine, to tuck those secret smiles and the warm nuzzlebreath away for just me. And I feel like I haven’t had time to savour him, I’m just marvelling at his first smile or his first clumsy grasp and suddenly he’s waving and talking and driving away in a P-plated ute… He’s like a beautiful sunset, my son. When I stop to look the sheer wonder of him takes my breath away and I have to show him to others, to try to capture him on film or in words- but in the moment it takes me to lift my camera, to gather more spectators, to put pen to paper, he changes, his colours shift and his light turns and he’s different- still marvellous, breathtaking, but different, and I know I’ll never see that earlier moment again.

I want to go back and hold him on my chest for the first time, concentrate on the delicate shape of his fingers and nose, watch him take his first breath and look into my eyes for the first time, and really capture him as he was, in some way that lets me feel it again and again. But all I can do is try to stop and taste each new coming moment for myself, know how precious it is, save it for now, and hope it lasts for ever in my heart.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Running again

I went for a run last night. Yes, I did it. One small step on the road back to fitness. I was only running down to the end of the drive, but it was a fair effort anyway, considering that it was half past nine, after dark, and I only had a brief window of opportunity while Richard and Jack were in the shower.

I ran with a torch to negotiate the savage camber of the gravel driveway, a sturdy (if somewhat decrepit and hearing impaired) cattledog to fend off any boogeymen, and a tiny black and white collie pup, for the heck of it. It turned out that bogeymen were a real concern for both Sybil and I. The night was so deep and black, with only a nervous sliver of a moon, and the cries of the mopoke and the squillion stars of the Milky Way were terribly bright in our eyes and ears.

Strange that I’d be more frightened on my own driveway in a quiet country district, homestead lights on both sides of me, than on the Perth riverside with its resident weirdos and drunks. Sybil had more reason to be skittish: as we reached the creek the scent of something dead wafted across the gully and a fox in the adjacent paddock began to cry out. Being not bigger than a rabbit herself, Sybil laid her ears back and darted across the roadway to duck between my shuffling feet, causing me to skip and hop to avoid tripping over her.

We were all bolder on the trip home. Jack had the scent of the feral hayshed cats in his nostrils, Sybil was eager for the lights of home, and I found the rhythm of my breathing and my feet starting to come together as I headed up the hill to my freshly washed man and boy.

I’m not too tired today, and the pleasure of my own time and space, cool air and sweat have me newly inspired to continue.