a goodbye

What keeps me away from the blog? Aside from mom-duties, mostly Craigslist, Facebook, genealogy, sudoku or knitting. I can't get into myspace or twitter... even less would get done around here. I'm not devoting enough time to gardening either, as droopy lettuce starts tell no lies. The tomatoes are doing okay, but I've mixed them up now and can't remember which are cherry and which are whatever else I started. K got down to business last week and put the garden back together.

This week is the last week of school. I've been helping out the two librarians as much as I can. The kids are lovin' it since it's devolved into one long string of field trips and class parties. On Friday, each of their schools will have a picnic, and T's supposed to bring batches of cookies, extra clothes and a towel because they're going to have "water games" for the students all day. I've been planning a short trip to Nome to watch my friend Crystal's daughter graduate from high school... but that may not happen at this point - it depends on travel arrangements and weather - so we'll at least have the trip up there in June to look forward to.

Twelve days ago, our almost-6-year-old chocolate lab Chena died. He'd been put out on his dog run in the morning while K was flying and the kids and I were all at school. Sometime during the morning, he pulled himself out of his collar, ran away and was hit by a car. I don't know the details other than that the dog catcher was called, he picked up Chena and brought him to the shelter, where Chena was put to sleep. The kids took it pretty hard. Kevin brought Chena home and we buried him on Saturday the 9th. R cried because his sisters were crying, and he understood partly what was going on, but death is a big confusing concept when you're three... MissBoss grieved in her own way and then moved on. Chena was mainly a birthday present for T when she turned three, in Laramie. So his death affected her the most. I used to bitch and moan about his doggy-ness, the smells, the accidents... but she handed me a lesson in acceptance one day when she said so simply in his defense, "Mom, he can't help it." She loved her dog. I don't know how K's been affected, but for me, Chena being gone means that I don't have my late-night kitchen company, who'd lick himself for ten minutes and then fall asleep, whimpering and wagging his tail until he woke up to put up with me clicking and typing the hours away. It means that I know I should have been a better person for Chena, that's for sure.
We've got our good memories and funny stories...