Bad Dogs! Bad Dogs!

Sunday morning arrived early, with dogs whining to be loosed into the clear morning air.  The Lovely Bride lost the mental coin toss, and headed downstairs to let them out into the predawn darkness.  Little Ruby Jean, with the smallest bladder, immediately ran, did her business, and scampered back into the warmth of the kitchen.  When the two larger dogs didn't immediately return, the LB stuck her head out the door and started calling them in her best fishwife voice.  Rosie the Lab had decided this was the perfect morning for a tour of the neighborhood, and Sam the Beagle tagged along to see what sort of interesting trouble they could find to get into.

This was not the first time Rosie had led Sam off the straight and narrow path.  The LB swears Rosie waits until your back is turned and then disappears faster than any old and crippled dog possibly could.  (Rosie has a steel rod, a plate and a handful of screws in a hind leg from a youthful indiscretion!)  Usually, she won't leave by herself, but if she can convince Sam to go along, she will take off and may be gone for hours or even overnight.

A quick scan of the roadways leading in and out of Naruna showed no signs of the two truants, so knowing they almost always come home when they are ready I settled in with the paper and some coffee.  Time for church came and while catching up on the neighborhood happenings, a couple of folks reported seeing the wayfarers moseying down one of the local county roads.  After church, we headed across the road to the house, discussing our plan for tracking down the mutinous mutts, when I noticed what looked suspiciously like Sam the Beagle sitting in his pen.  Getting closer, Rosie's head popped up, and the LB & I started congratulating ourselves on not having to chase dogs.  Arriving at the pen, we discovered that not only were the dogs in the pen, but the gate was shut and the latch in place!  They are devious dogs, but even they have not figured out how to lock the gate behind themselves. 

The mystery of who fetched the prodigals home wasn't answered until last night, when the local deputy sheriff knocked on our door.  He lives 3 or 4 miles away and had happened up on the two dogs as he was leaving home that morning.  He recognized them from some of their previous exploits, and persuaded his wife to sit in the back of the pickup with the dogs as he gave them a ride home.  It is not the first time they have been brought home, but surely the first time by the cops!  Thank you, Charley, for bringing them home!  And a special thanks to the wife who rode in the back of an open pickup with two wet dogs, after they apparently found a roadkill skunk to roll in!

Some Quiet Time

It has been a lazy day in Naruna. The sun came out after a rather chilly gray start to the day, and critters have been seeking spots to nap and generally conserve energy and body heat. Rosie grabbed a little patch of sunshine, while Sam & Tizzie cuddled up on the sofa. The LB and I have also been slugs after church, just sitting eating popcorn and watching a movie, "My Dog Skip". It is a real tearjerker at the end and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Tangentially, the movie let me give the LB a little history lesson, which I love doing. Anyone want to sit and discuss the cultural impact of the Spanish Civil War on American society in the second half of the 20th century?

Oliver, the whiny cat, has had a trying week, with the ugly scab on his nose finally falling off. Very pink and still a little raw. Maybe he has learned his lesson. Yeah...right.

Yesterday afternoon, the LB and I visited the Middle Child and her husband. He has been home from Iraq for about a month, and has been getting out and catching up by doing all the things unavailable over there. While doing one of his favorite activities - riding his new motorsickle - he dropped the front wheel in a hole on the edge of the pavement at about 10 mph, flipping the bike(and himself). He landed squarely on his shoulder, fragmenting, comminuting and dislocating the medial portion of his right clavicle. That just means he smashed hell outta the end of his collar bone where it should be attached to his breast bone. Lots of sharp pieces that are not where they are supposed to be. He has had to wait while being referred to the most appropriate orthopedic surgeons specializing in trauma, and then wait some more until a thoracic surgeon would be available to help if needed. Should get fixed this week. Everybody keep praying...for patience as well as healing.

Cowboy Up!

I really need to start posting on some sort of regular basis. It has been a month since I last laid down any thoughts for you to pick through. Of course, in a place like Naruna, excitement doesn't come along just every day.

There are the little minor adventures, such as Larry's blue heeler who got caught in a hog snare, and to add insult to the injury got sprayed by a passing skunk. This would not normally have affected the general population of Naruna, except the dog insists on following Larry to church. With the week long Revival Meeting kicking off this past Sunday, every one quickly got their fill of this gimpy, smelly dog. The sad part was that the dog only wanted to be everybody's friend and kept trying to quietly slip up next to the ladies sipping on glasses of cold ice tea and wearing their Sunday-go-to-meeting finery. The poor dog couldn't understand why none of those good church folk wanted to associate with him, a poor sinner. Positively un-Christian!

I guess the big Naruna news is the Revival meeting, or Revival Crusade as it is being advertised. Last year the little Baptist church in Naruna had a four day revival, and everybody had such a great time, it was decided to extend it to a full week this time around. All the ladies of the church keep cooking and feeding sinners and saints alike. There is a gospel singing group, complete with a young lady playing the fiddle, and a high-powered Evangelist imported all the way from Dallas. They keep filling the little 130 year old church, and people are making decisions and being saved! Makes all the getting ready feel worthwhile. I'll try to put up more info as the week progresses.

Saturday night, the LB and I headed for the south end of Burnet county and a fund-raising event for a local organization, the Hill Country Children's Advocacy Center (or HCCAC). This is a group which serves seven counties in the Texas Hill Country as a centralized agency performing forensic exams of abused children. One of the biggest traumas for abused children is having to repeat their story over and over as they pass through the system. HCCAC works to minimize that trauma. Just at a time when economic downturns are causing a surge in child abuse, the center lost a significant grant this year. The Cowboy Up for Kids event is one way the community is trying to make up that deficit. www.hccac.org/howhelp/events_dinner.html

We headed out into the countryside, turned down a dusty road, and arrived at a huge tent amongst the mesquite and scrub oak just as the sun was setting over the hills. A group of musicians, replete with well-worn boots, hats and more than one handlebar moustache, were onstage tuning and warming up. Tables filled with items for a silent auction lined the sides of the tent, and a number of big ticket items were arrayed around the dance floor in readiness for the live auction. A bar, with the obligatory longnecks and margarita machine plus bottles of wine for the more refined in the crowd, was fitted into one corner. An oldtime chuckwagon was parked at the back of the tent, and several wood fires were being tended outside. Closer scrutiny showed numerous large dutch ovens either nestled in the coals or suspended over the flames.

Quickly I secured cold beverages for us, and we began to circulate through the crowd, stopping to exchange greetings with acquaintances, while checking out the auction items. The LB located several interesting things and jotted down her opening bids. I was starting to relax and think I might get out without spending too much money, when she discovered that one of the live auction items was for a miniature donkey party for a dozen of the children at the center. Her only question was, "Can I come to the party, too?" I knew I was doomed. She would not rest (nor let me rest!) until I had secured this prize.

Dinner was the next agenda item, with steaks grilled over the open fire, with sides of potatoes and green beans ladled out of steaming pots. Home made rolls baked in the coals in heavy dutch ovens rounded out the meal (and my belly). Just when we couldn't eat another bite, the cooks brought in dutch ovens full of home made peach cobbler. Wonderfully miserable!

As the live auction got underway, and the first few items sold for less than their stated value, I became hopeful...maybe it wouldn't really cost that much. At last, "our" lot went on the block, and a determined looking fellow from Hamilton, Texas quickly tossed out the first bid. As I looked him over, I couldn't help but wonder if he too had a wife who was a donkey junkie? I waved my program in the air, upping the stakes, wondering how determined he would prove to be. Back and forth we went, trading the lead, until finally...he caved! Ha...ha...ha. I had bested him, and all it cost was...my God, what did it cost!?! I kept repeating my mantra of, "It's for the kids, it's for the kids," as I tried to catch my breath and write out the check.

Back to Normal

July 1, 2008
The jetlag is gone for the most part, clothes are getting washed, and I’ve gone back to work to start paying for our great vacation. I suppose that means the adventure is over and all is returning to normal. Yesterday afternoon I sat and watched the final of the Euro-2008 tournament where Spain defeated Germany. Italy had been ousted by Spain in the semi round, so at least they were defeated by the eventual champions. It was exciting to be able to watch the entire tournament, even though I didn’t have a personal stake in the outcome.

Another sign life is returning to normal occurred Saturday night just before bedtime. The LB’s beagle, Sam, was out for his evening constitutional, and began baying frantically. I eased out to explain to him that everybody else was trying to go to bed, and discovered he had encountered a little Boer goat while making his rounds at the church across the road. When the goat spotted me she trotted right past Sam, who was still loudly announcing the intruder’s presence, and followed me around to the pen out back, where she settled in and made herself at home. The next morning at church, the first person I asked knew exactly where the little goat was missing from and gave the owner a call. No cabrito for me!

A Slow Day?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Today we have started out on a calmer note. Traipsing over the Ponte S. Maria Nova, brought us to the campo and a canal-side café. Susan & I settled into a tavola with our cappuccinos, and undertook some serious people watching. She thinks she is able to pick out the different furriners by their demeanor and dress (or lack thereof). Even though I’m not as confident in ID’ing Germans, Frenchies, Americans, etc., it is easy to spot the Italians. They tend to dress much better and move through their world with an air of confidence lacking in all the others. Some of the tourists, Germans especially, attempt to make up for this lack of confidence with a display of arrogance which can make even the Americans look good in comparison.
Last night we found an Internet café with a wireless hot-spot which allowed us to clear out the emails and post some pictures to our blogs. It was your typical little hole-in-wall Italian pizza parlor, run by a family of Chinese. We did alright getting drinks and food ordered since we stuck to the basics…vino rosso and pizza. Some Germans came in after us, and were trying to order complex Italian dishes in German from the Chinese waitress…it was not pretty.
One surprise in Venice has been the multitude of dogs. If I had given it any thought before arriving, I probably would have predicted it to be a cat city, with little or no solid ground and everything covered with concrete. But we have yet to sight our first cat, and there is a constant swirl of puppies around us wherever we venture. Evidently, the Venetians take them along to work, and they stay throughout the day. All sizes, all breeds…there is no real pattern other than it seems every third resident has one, and the puppies tend to be very well trained. And there are no messes in the streets. As we sat this morning, we saw several doggies do their business, and their owners immediately swooped in, picked up the poo and dropped it in the trash, obviously a routine part of their day.
We headed out to go to the grocery which is just up the street (alleyway) from the apartment. We’ve only been past it a ½ dozen times so far, so naturally yours truly gets lost and we end up on the Strada Nuova, which is one of the largest shopping areas after Rialto. I tried to get Susan interested in doing a little light window shopping since we were already there, but all we picked up were some picture postcards. Since I had already been lost in that area several times on this trip, we quickly found the COOP store and picked up some necessities. Left there and stopped at the fruit stand to pick up some melon and cherries, then next door to the cheese shop for some asiago fresa to go with our prosciutto. In fact, Susan just brought me a plate with some cheese, prosciutto, pane and fresh cherries for a little snack to tide me over until time for espressos in an hour or two. Then we have to discuss where we’ll go for supper…I think seafood tonight. So eat your hearts out people, cause we’re sure not in Naruna anymore, are we Toto?