Again with the foxtails

Imagine having one of these stuck up in your sinuses.

It seems like not that long ago when I spent all that money getting the last foxtail out of Tater's nose. Yesterday he had another one. You know things are bad when it feels like a relief to hear it's "only" going to be a few hundred bucks ... bucks I would dearly have loved to spend on some amazing boots, or a silver bike with a step-through frame, or beautiful fabric for a brown flowered skirt with ruffles, or 82 tubes of my new favorite chocolate-flavored lipgloss, or any number of other items that have caught my fancy of late.

Of course none of these things is anywhere near as important to me as my darling dog, and short of keeping him in the house all the time or making him wear scuba gear over his head when he goes out, there doesn't seem to be much you can do to prevent a country dog from snuffing up a foxtail every now and then. It's just money you have to resign yourself to spending, if you really love your dog.

I think I'm still gonna get those boots, though. The ones I've worn through the last several winters are too worn out to wear to work anymore, and that's as good an excuse as any. Not that I necessarily need an excuse. This week was the first day I noticed the light has changed – the days are definitely getting shorter – and it's got me smiling and looking forward to fall. I love all the colors and layers and textures of fall – wool tights and sweaters, leather boots, hats, jackets, gloves, all of it. I always find it hard to get dressed when it's so hot I have to limit myself to wearing only one or two things at a time.


Summer this year seems to be passing in a blank, dreamy sort of way. Aside from my trip to the Rockies (this photo is from the beginning of the hike my sisters and I took the kids on in Boulder – shockingly beautiful and a place I definitely want to explore in more detail as soon as I can get around to it) this summer has been fairly uneventful, every day very much like every other, and I mostly like it like that.

I read a phrase in a book the other day, a book about a mountain man sort of guy who was getting flack from his family for not being more social – the phrase was something along the lines of "before the modern mandate to be perpetually available." I've been thinking about that in terms of general activity, not just social activity – the modern mandate to be constantly connecting with other people, doing something, creating something, expressing something, aggressively exerting your will upon the world – lest you be accused of not "living life to its fullest" or in some other way tragically failing to fulfill your obligations to the universe. Or something like that.

Aside from the work I do for money, I've accomplished very little this summer that I could show to anyone and say, "See this? I made that." And yet I've been enjoying myself more than I can remember doing in a long, long time. I feel relaxed, empty, clear. Quiet. Content.

I've read that this cultural obsession with speed, aggression and activity is just that – cultural – something people learn to value, or not, and that not every culture values that kind of attitude and approach to life. I wonder what it would be like to live someplace where it's okay to want to go slowly through your life, to take lots of time alone without doing anything, to be silent and observe a new situation at first instead of always feeling guilty for not trying harder (not even wanting) to make something amazing happen, be the life of the party, etc. Seems like that would be kind of nice.