It’s all about the trash…

Chester’s mortal enemies are bunnies. Oh he hates squirrels, possums and cats, but bunnies send him to another level. Their very existence offends him.  His daily walk consists of patrolling the neighborhood for bunnies who have dared to show their fuzzy little tails. When one does, he points at it until it moves, then he lunges and pulls me halfway to Lake Erie. It’s a daily ritual…except on Fridays, aka garbage day. That’s when he’s distracted by the smell of diapers, moldy fruit, and rotten meat. A bunny could tap dance on the head if he was smelling garbage. So Chester and I made up a song about Fridays. See if you can identify the melody…many apologies to the original artist/writer:

It’s all about the trash, bout the trash, no bunnies.

It’s all about the trash, bout the trash, no bunnies.

It’s all about the trash, bout the trash, no bunnies.

Today…it’s all about the trash.

Below is Chester becoming inspired:


I have worked at my job for over a year. This is way too long to not know someone’s name that you see every day. I don’t want to ask them; that would be really tacky. “Excuse me, I have said hello to you every day for a year but what is your name?”  I would like to ask someone else, but then they would have to be in the same area so I could show them who I’m talking about.

Yesterday I was in the bathroom stall and realized there was no toilet paper. There was one other person in the bathroom, washing her hands. I could have sworn it was Lea. It was not. So when I asked “Lea?” there was silence. A minute later she said “what?” I said I was out of toilet paper and could she please hand me some. She said “it’s Samantha but sure.” She saved me from disaster, so I should have known her name.  I’m awful.  Thanks, Samantha.

footprints in ice…

They say if you don’t like the weather in Cleveland, wait 15 minutes. We had snow and ice one day, but it thawed; most of it anyway. When Chester and I went out we noticed the footprints in ice left after most had melted. I thought they were beautiful; just a cool image. Literally😊

Steps to nowhere…

A long time ago I read a book called “House of Leaves.” It is a book that you have to hold in your hand to read for a lot of reasons; don’t get it through a tablet. The concept involves a house that is bigger on the inside than outside. People are so much like this; there is so much more to each of us than meets the eye.  Like peeling an onion, we are only known by a few words or images: mom, quiet, librarian. When we get older, we are compartmentalized even further.  But there is a complete mansion inside us.

We visited the Winchester House in San Jose.  Sarah Winchester was the owner. She began a continual renovation and remodeling project that lasted to her death. One legend has it that she thought that if she kept building, she wouldn’t die. I don’t know if she really thought that, only Sarah knows.. But as a result, there are some strange constructions; steps leading to nowhere, doors, etc. If we keep building our internal houses we are still going to die. But imagine how big your house will be if you keep learning, experiencing, growing, and dreaming.   It’s ok if it takes you nowhere.

Major events…

I am facing a major event.  I am turning 60 years old this summer. I am terrified.  When I turned 59 I realized that I had one year to do everything I thought would make my life complete. So how did I handle this increasing sense of doom? We got a dog. Saving this kennel pup was going to help me achieve absolution for all the undone good deeds in my life.  So we went to a high volume shelter that mostly houses pit bulls and strays. Go big or go home, right?  We left with a mixed breed 54 pound dog. He seemed to acknowledge that we were there while he was running around in the enclosed area, peeing on the little house they have, so we said, “yep that’s the one for us.”  He was supposed to be 5 years old so we thought “calm”. The description said shepherd mix. As it turns out he has a total of zero shepherd in him. Zero.  And as for calm…well, you can judge. But we had a shepherd before and he was a great dog, so we were sold. We named him Chester, although I have a nephew with a cat named Chester, which I should have thought of before we named him because now we have to call him Chester Too. Anyway, Chester came home.

We decided that not knowing him or his habits, we would walk him a lot. I took the morning walk, which starts about 5:45am. Now at 5:45am there aren’t many people around, and it’s dark. We walk, and I think. I think about life, about music, about the world, about Chester’s poop, and about whatever interests me at that particular moment. So, as part of my good deed atonement plan I decided to write the world changing thoughts down. I’ll include the wonderfully complex songs Chester and I make up. Keep in mind he is a dog. So he has some trouble with the high notes.