Happy Wednesday

I miss posting every day. No, really.

Recently, I've been enjoying many happy displays of what Thomas and I refer to as "Dog TV." We don't have cable, and we watched our new box set of the Sopranos in one crazed, drooling bout, and so we have returned to the entertainment provided by the two small, red maniacs that happen to live in our house. (P.S. Whose good idea was it to release the Sopranos season 6 in two parts so that I would have to pay 60 dollars TWICE to get it? Much like when Stephen King released the Green Mile by chapter, I have to say, Um, I think you're rich enough. But thanks for playing. However, unlike me, my husband could not wait).

Episode 1: Triangulation.

These dogs


are watching this cat, out the window

who, in turn, is watching this squirrel, up a tree
None shall move for over an hour!


Episode 2: Drunken Brawl




Episode 3: Beagle Racetrack

Gertie is approaching the speed of sound in her efforts to outrun....no one.


I know, I know. When am I going to grow bored of taking pictures of my dogs? The answer is NEVER. Dude, they are 9 and 14 now. If I were going to get tired of this, I would have done it a long time ago.

Just Hide it Under the Bed

Random Thought: every time I start a blog post, I type "So," and then I go back and delete it, because if I didn't, every single one of my posts would begin "So," as if this were all some sort of endless conversation.

So, this morning, I got up at 7:30 and planted 100 bulbs in the yard. My lovely sister got me tulips, allium and hyacinths for my birthday and I've been putting off planting them for so long that I was afraid totally laziness would take over and they would all die. I kept telling myself, "You live in North Carolina. It's not too late until the last week of November," but this morning I got a bee in my bonnet and just got it done. I felt very accomplished at 8:30. By 11, we'd cooked breakfast and cleaned the house. Woo! All our tasks were done for today! Then we wondered what the hell to do with ourselves and ended up watching a fair portion of the new Sopranos box set.

Because we don't have cable (I'm not opposed to TV, I just know that if we had it, I would never read, blog, crochet, garden or grade any of my students' work) we see most of our tv shows after they've been released to box set. We hadn't seen the Sopranos in over a year, because the makers of the Sopranos box sets hate me and want me to die. Starting up the first disc, I felt like when your high school friends visit: you're excited, but nervous that you won't have anything in common anymore.

I've pretty much cried my way through every episode so far: the sixth season has started off very heavy. I'm worried, because this is how I stopped watching Six Feet Under, the greatest show ever. By the end of the third season, I was growing noticably depressed, like, time to go back on Paxil depressed. At the end of every episode, I'd stand out on my front porch and look at the sky and wonder why the world is such a horrible, horrible place. Tres dramatic, I know. Sometimes, I have to ask myself why I want to watch beautifully written and portrayed scenes of horror and anguish.

I think maybe TV gets too intense for me because I can't put it down. When I'm reading and I reach something that is just too tense, too loaded, too, too, too, I take the book and stick it under the bed until I feel better. How sad to admit that. But you can't hide your TV shows under the bed. Especially not when someone is watching them with you.