Random March Hairy Thoughts
March 28, 2011
The crazy month of March is upon us, and as usual, my personal form of March Madness has nothing to do with basketball. While the rest of the country is screaming and cheering over people in shorts running back and forth on a hardwood floor, I’m screaming and cheering over such things as putting together entries for a poetry contest, raising funds for my youngest daughter’s senior trip, watching the weather vacillate between glorious 75 degree sunshine and dreary, cold rain, and contemplating my future empty nest while running back and forth after my young nannied children.
I think I would be better off going mad over basketball. That would at least be less exhausting.
Nevertheless, I bring good news from the home front! We have made our college decision! Belmont University in Nashville wins the bid for our daughter’s next four years. Hopefully, Carly will enjoy her time there and come out with a degree in. . . something she can use to make the world a better place.
And with that, I move onto Random Thoughts of the Weird and Hairy. Here’s one that has probably never occurred to anyone other than fellow floppy-eared dog owners (that’s the dogs that have the floppy ears, not the owners themselves.) What exactly is all that stinky ear goo and from whence does it come? And to whence can it be banished for good?
That leads me speedy quick to my next stupefying random thought: Why would anyone with a brain ever let a large hairy dog (like a bloodhound) with stinky ear goo (like a bloodhound) and profuse slobber (like a bloodhound) with a penchant for slinging said hair, goo and slobber all over tarnation with a single shake of the body (like a bloodhound) step a single foot into the house, much less live there with her otherwise sensibly clean people? As far as I can tell, this can be explained in only one way–look at a bloodhound’s face. How could anyone turn a face like that away, especially someone who likes to think about what Jesus would do. Would He turn a face like that out into the cold night to howl in misery at the moon?
I think we all know the answer to that last question, and that explains why I’ve lived my life the way I have for the past nearly eight years. It has been messy and stinky and a bit off-putting for some, but it has also been full of deep empathy and concern for all who have dared to come close enough to get a whiff of the goo while staring deeply into those big brown eyes. To those of you who have not experienced this kind of mad love, come on over. It’s worth all the mess. One more somewhat cleaner, but so much more disturbing, random thought for this month of mayhem: Why can’t I find anything anymore? Two weeks ago I happened upon a perfectly profound journal of my thoughts from 1993 or so, that I could have shared with you in this hallowed space. BUT I CAN’T FIND IT NOW! I used to be so organized, kept everything where it belonged at all times, and never forgot a meeting or important detail in the lives of any of my people. Now I can’t even keep track of the notes I write to myself in the bedroom to remind myself to take the list I left on the kitchen table of the things to put in my bag to take with me in the car so I can remember to return them wherever they go on my way to pick up children from school. I can’t even find my glasses so I can read the stupid notes if I could find them! What is this about? A crazy stray leprechaun must be pulling cruel jokes on me to entertain himself while he awaits his little green brothers’ return to whisk him back to Ireland. That’s the only reasonable explanation for it. Jesus would agree, I’m sure.
On that rather distressing note, I will wish you a happy spring. Maybe next month the madness will be gone. Maybe I’ll happen upon my long lost brilliant journal again. But don’t count on it. The leprechaun looks pretty comfortable in my recliner.