Saturday, August 25, 2007

Accounting For A Year

When your CPA drawls, “If you don’t get me those numbers soon, you’ll be getting’ your knickers in a knot,” the interpretation: Get off your lazy butt and close out your 2006 books.

So I’ve been buried inside a mind bending accounting software program, and polishing my blue language for over a week now. I’d rather pull thorny weeds from the hot and hard panned soil. But that’s not today’s tale.

My latent accounting slam disallowed the pooch’s (Hank) and my morning walks. Today we walked. This walk compared to our last Saturday morning walk was different. I could not hear birds whistling, no cottontails jumped out of our path (and making Hank nearly insane), and no steady hum of vehicles in the distance. A telltale roar ripped the late August air, shocking me back to the real world. At 7300 feet, summer can end quickly. So as I approached my neighbor--attired in a t-shirt, shorts and boots, sweat leaving trails along his face--I waved. He slowed the telltale-roar’s culprit. I shouted, “This can’t be! We can’t be that close to summer’s end, can we?”

Not wanting to loose time with his project, he answered, “I can’t wait. I love it when it’s cold.” He put his noisy chainsaw back to work dismantling one of a thousand dead pinon trees that lie in fields near our homes.

That’s it! It’s late August 2007 and I can’t account for more than five days of this year.

Stunned, I called Hank back from his short foray into the woods and we moseyed back home. I poured iced water for both of us. (Apparently, nothing gets as hot as a Golden Retriever in the summer.)

Now that my 2006 books are nearly complete, I should make some nasturtium vinegar for the winter, begin my holiday to do list, and put off posting 2007 numbers until sometime next year.

Photo: Hank playing pirate.

Stella, the gorgeous poodle pictured across from Hank, was just sent in by her human, one of the best realtors in Santa Fe, Joan Grossman. When Hank saw Stella dance at a Hanukkah celebration, that was it. Love. Total love.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

6-0 Looms, Lurks, And Lures

Wrinkles! Grey Hair! Flab! Oh! My! Welcome to Sixohdear!

Yes, that big 6-0 birthday looms. Former classmates have a way of reminding me. “Hey, since most of us will turn 60 in 2008, let’s take a birthday cruise,” the emails suggest.

I’m cool with that.

It took my new membership to Club Grandparent to make this 6-0 business catch my attention. Never mind my blogs about comedy clubs and the center-seated golden girls. Ignore the fact that I prefer and will buy only comfortable vehicles. Gray hair? Right! I went from a natural brunette to hints of salt and pepper, directly to blond, then back to assorted shades of red hair.

Some of the best people I know have already passed that 6-0 thing.

So as I progress through Sixohdear! I’ll introduce you to those who laugh in the face of aging; discuss issues of these times; chronicle how those of us who survived the 60’s and once warned, “don’t trust anyone over 30,” remain destined to create even more change; and I’ll seek your opinions and wisdom.

Note: The three bears photo, a fine shoot by retired cuzin Sue, who recently visited Alaska