Dora in a rare moment of indoor repose following our 4-mile hike along the river yesterday afternoon. It was a cloudyish afternoon, with a tiny bit of rain intermittently, but the air under the trees was close and swampy, and those of us who sweat were bathed in sweat by the end. Dora and I had already walked about 2.5 miles first thing in the morning before Mass, so I think today we'll keep our morning walk on the short side. If we get lucky, the dog park will be empty, so I think we'll walk that way on the greenway and see what our chances are.
Dora did have a reactivity setback on this longer walk. She's been perfect on the greenway for a while now, passing people and being passed without incident. We still pull off to the side to sit and watch other dogs go by, but it's been ages since she did more than look at any of her old triggers. Yesterday, though, on the river trail, we encountered a family group with a bunch of kids just at the point where the trail crosses the road. We passed them just fine, but as we reached the other side, the group came running up loudly behind us, startling Dora. She whipped around, hackles up, and gave them her most hostile barking-and-growling treatment, which scared them. It certainly rattled me. Of course, the one who was really rattled was Dora, who was already hyped up on the unfamiliar trail, and is always a little nervous about anybody coming up behind us. I apologized profusely (even though she hadn't done anything to them other than make noise), took a wide berth around one of the older kids who'd gone ahead of the rest of the group, and continued on our way. Fortunately the trail was mostly empty after that --- we maybe passed one other person --- but I was very shaken.
Anyway, coming back, we passed the same group. I saw them coming, moved Dora off to the side, had her sit, and fed her treats while they straggled by, and she was fine. We exchanged friendly greetings, and I hope all was well with them. I'm feeling that I ought to get myself some kind of very visible vest to wear --- Dog In Training/Give Us Space. I do use a neon yellow leash, which is supposed to mean something like that, but of course people don't know. At moments like that, it's no good explaining that your dog is actually quite nice and likes children and people generally, as long as they're not running right up behind her without warning. At moments like that, your dog just looks like something that ought to be put down in the interest of public safety. I'm glad she was able to look a little more civilized the next time we met the same group.
So: a quieter walk today, I hope, on a more familiar trail.
I'm still finishing my coffee and waking up. On the other hand, I am dressed for the day and at least appear ready to roll. One nice thing about the new garden fence is that it provides more places where I could potentially prop my phone to take outdoor selfies:
As you can see, I'm wearing again my rose-patterned linen jumper/sundress, a very old thrifted item which I've been resolving to wear more.
It's hard to get the light just right, and I wish the zinnias showed up more, because they're so pretty, but anyway:
Wearing my EVA Birks again, because there they were, and they're good to wear in the garden, where I'm going to be using the hose. That log, the remains of the old border, still needs to exit the garden to make room for more containers, which I plan to fill and then leave until I'm ready to put in fall crops of spinach, lettuces, and brussels sprouts. I have a year-old grapevine, currently reposing in a less-propitious location, which I plan to go ahead and dig up and transplant against the fence, to see how it does. It's not exactly a family heirloom, so if it doesn't make it it doesn't make it, but moving it will mean being able to whack down weeds and grass in the less-propitious location, which we'll eventually just return to lawn.
Light and shadow on the back steps.
Day 3 hair in a ponytail, just to get it off my neck and out of my way, but I'm still liking how it behaves after Saturday's wash:
Wearing a Boody bralette in dusty pink under my dress for armhole coverage. In the hot, humid summer weather, I really appreciate the lightness and breathability of linen. Glass earrings made by my elder daughter when she was 12 or 13.
My bamboo swing dress, which I'd put back on after Mass yesterday, did perform well in the heat and humidity. I sweated a LOT, but the dress stayed pretty dry and was light and cool. It's maybe not quite as moisture-wicking as wool, but it's very close. My husband wore a cotton shirt to walk in and was soaked, so that he had to change when he got home. He put on one of the merino tees I'd given him last winter and said, "THIS is what I should have worn to hike in."
I washed the bamboo dress last night when I took a bath: hand-wash, in cold water. The dye bled a lot, so it'll probably be an even lighter, brighter blue today once it's dry. I do need to pick up some dye fixative, and maybe run the dress through another blue dye bath at some stage --- though I'm kind of interested to see how the color evolves!
Another Monday, another week before us. I have work to do for the Sun, plus this grapevine to transplant, plus some groceries to acquire, plus reading to do. Still rereading Ngaio Marsh: I'm up now to Final Curtain, one of the installments foregrounding Troy and her painting, which I always enjoy. I want to go back to Dickens, though, and read Our Mutual Friend, which I haven't ever read. I think somebody mentions it in one of these Ngaio Marsh mysteries, which must be what made me think of it. I'm enjoying all over again how much cultural territory these novels cover, even as in many ways they're following their formula (the young lovers with whom you sympathize are never guilty, for example --- in the Marshlands you can't simultaneously be young and in love and commit murder). Alleyn leans out of a window and thinks about George Macdonald and At the Back of the North Wind. On a dark stormy night in London he encounters a Macbeth-quoting constable. There are always the expected ruminations on painting and the theater, which were Marsh's worlds, but also on architecture (the description of Ancreton, the Victorian fastness of the Ancred family in Final Curtain, is a hilarious indictment of architects like George Gilbert Scott). Anyway, passing through this series again, because I really don't want it to be over, I am savoring its particular richness of texture.
Well, again, another Monday, another week. Better rouse myself to walk the dog.
LATER:
A nice greenway walk for which I wore my straw hat as an additional fashion statement (also because sun):
The dog park was deserted, lucky us, so we spent about twenty minutes there. Dora ran around, sniffed, and with some encouragement (read: bribes) played on the agility equipment, jumping the hurdles and walking up and down the ramps and steps. By the time we got home again she was worn out, so now she's crashed in her crate while I catch up on emails and gather myself to work.
An update on my concerns regarding Wool& and their response to the whole Current Events thing:
Fortunately, as far as I can see, their publicized donations and causes are concentrated on real means of support and empowerment for women, especially in overseas economies, especially via the workplace. Their last cause was to improve working conditions in their own South Korean factory by creating a better break space for their employees. They seem very committed to what Catholics would call subsidiarity: working on small local levels to help people improve their lives, and being themselves good employers, paying fair wages, providing decent working conditions, covering health benefits, etc. All of this impresses me. I note that a number of their team work remotely, which seems good for work/life/family balances. They strike me as a company that "has women's backs" in meaningful and positive ways that contribute to a culture of life and flourishing for everyone, regardless of what individual people's positions are regarding said Current Event situation. If more employers committed to this kind of path, instead of just issuing statements about how they'll help people travel to access a particular kind of health care that really isn't, while carrying on paying rotten wages and being happy to exploit people via terrible working hours and conditions (looking hard at you, Amazon), the world would be a healthier place. Funny how we can ignore that whole aspect of human rights, as long as the wording suggests what we want to hear. How much bodily autonomy does your average Amazon warehouse worker have, when they can't use the restroom without penalty? I'm really having to reassess my relationship with my Kindle . . . which I should have been doing a long time ago, to be honest. I've cut my Amazon purchasing way back, and continue to do so, but am still too tied to the apron strings.
ALSO:
My daughter went to Asheville this weekend and brought me back this beautiful moonstone ring. I feel like Galadriel now, albeit Galadriel with a wrankly old hand.
