This blog is about energy. Not the green kind, not the kind that costs us nearly $4.00 per/gallon, and not the kind created by the enormous wind turbines along the Pacific coast. This one is about my “weekend energy” which now belongs on the side of a milk carton under “MISSING, HAVE YOU SEEN?
How is it I, can give my employer, a full forty hours each week without even a yawn and when the whistle blows on Friday and there’s nearly sixty minutes of sunshine remaining and then the air comes out of the balloon? I realize that was one helluva long inquisition – I do apologize.
Earlier this week a friend and former co-worker offered up a vineyard exploration in the Cloverdale area. We had to regrettably decline due to a head cold and all the congestion that comes with it entered Bonnie’s system on Thursday. I can’t use Bonnie’s sickness as an excuse to my sapped energy and it seemed we received a jolt or surge on Saturday morning and planned to attend the Petaluma Boat Parade. It was nice at least to “have plans”, yet when darkness fell on this town last night – so did we. I’d really like to know why?
Bonnie’s hacking and head congestion continued so there was no way I wanted her out in the cold, along the river last night under her condition and I know some of you are saying … my energy is sympathy related. This has always been a G-rated blog so I’ll keep my responses to that idea to myself.
It’s as though my weekend energy sources are being tapped by the 75 pound bulldog that’s lying at my feet. Evidently there’s a story on a recent ESPN magazine about Ozzie Guillen, the former Chicago White Sox manager who is slated for the Miami Marlins job. The cover shows him holding his pet bulldog. When questioned about the dog’s name, Ozzie responded with “DH” (Designated Hitter)! As we know DH’s rarely need to do much other than watch the game, and every now and then grab some maple and stand in the batter’s box to do their job. LuLu, our adopted bulldog, does just that. Her bedding is in the laundry right now. Why? She was too lazy to get out of the batter’s box to do her business during the night. Thanks LuLu. In an hour or so she’ll be carted off to the spa for her regular treatment where she’ll be bathed, her nails clipped, etc., etc. She peed in her bed, and this is what she receives in return?
There are four girls in my immediate family. Our oldest out on the east coast attending her junior year of college, our youngest attending her junior year of high school, Bonnie, who’s already received her first cup of coffee, a dose of medicine and the Lu-dog. It would be weak of me to use these four members for my lack of energy – handy to use them, but weak nonetheless.
Now it’s Sunday morning where I watch all kinds of energy on the fields and in the stands of the National Football League. There were years when I lived aboard ship when a second wind was recognized, and used (or should I say “abused?”). There are guys I still talk to that would tell me they’d lie to me when I’d ask what they’re up to after hours. Of course I learned of these lies decades later and looking back at the way I handled myself through my twenties, thirties and even forties I completely understand their decision making skills way back when. I certainly did have a blast, regardless of how much money I had in my pocket, the weather, location and circumstances.
Perhaps I’m just &*#)_@’n getting older and I’d rather not recognize that as a possible idea or excuse. Are the weekends now just for lying low? I know we’ve been through a lot these past ten months, this I truly understand, but my inner spirit still yearns for raising hell. Maybe it’s those four girls I talked about earlier that are keeping me in check. Enough of this pity party – I have some laundry to extract and a bed to make for the puppy before carting her off to Fit N’ Furry.
You know I wouldn’t trade places with anyone.
Peace,
Papa
