My dog is currently wedged between the couch and the coffee table, which is where he likes to doze when it’s too warm to hang out with me on the couch. I can reach down and pet him occasionally, which I feel like he appreciates somehow despite being unconscious. A little while ago we went on a walk together because it had finally stopped pouring for long enough for us to make a break for it, and on this walk I wore knee length galoshes and a raincoat, which mean that I looked like an idiot since it’s 80 degrees outside. Anyway, it wasn’t a very long walk but his legs are very short so he’s out like a light now.
There’s no dramatic end or twist to this anecdote. That’s the thing about dogs, mostly they just add this layer of uncomplicated good to life. They love you, they like walks, they nap a lot. People who don’t like dogs are, for me, like people who don’t like chocolate or reading—it’s not that there is anything wrong with them, it’s just that I can’t quite understand how something that is so core for me doesn’t resonate for them.
Writing notes: Doing some work on a piece for a class, but I’m finding myself going slower and slower and I think it’s because I’m not really convinced that it is going to come together. I think the idea a lot but I think the amount of research and redrafting it might take to make it more successful may not be worth it. And it feels strange to make that call because it seems like giving up but then again I think it’s probably good to give up on things sometimes, to act like your time and effort are finite commodities.
Reading notes: I’m reading a book called “At Hawthorn Time” at the moment. It was on the “New” shelf at the library. I liked the cover and it had a nice blurb by Helen MacDonald, who wrote “H is for Hawk,” so I thought I’d give it a whirl. The writing is beautiful, and it is really making me want to wander around an English village, and also through the English countryside. There are a lot of men’s names though so it’s some work to keep all of the characters straight.