HARLEY: HEAD COLD AND HEAD GAMES

Head colds are so stupid.  They make you feel soooo sick, but then, it's "just a cold".  My latest cold virus hit me last night and kept me tossing and turning most of the night.  I often heard Harley, my little mixed terrier,  sighing from his bed in the corner; I guess I kept him awake.  Around 4:30am I got up, took some ibuprofen, emailed my boss that I was not coming in, and went back to bed listening to a CD-book.  I also remembered to turn off my cell phone and my alarm.

At 6:30am I awoke with a start when someone or something jumped on my bed.  Going to sleep with a Stephen King story being read can make your mind go funny places.  It took me just a few seconds to realize it was Harley and for my heart to retreat from my throat.  I closed my eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.  Harley wanted me to wake up and stuck his nose in my face.  He pawed at my exposed hand.  I put my hand back under the covers.  He barked.  I managed to croak a stern, "Quiet!" and he laid down on my bed and stared at me.  I didn't open my eyes to confirm he was staring at me; if he saw my eyes open he would take that for me being awake and would start the pawing and barking again.  I felt his gaze on my face, though, felt it like a hot nasty dog breath on my face even though he was at the foot of the bed.  'Way too much Stephen King.  I tossed and turned some more which made him finally jump off the bed, and I finally fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke later he was ready to go out and I took him out first thing.  He had been "good" and not had an accident (like anything he has done has EVER been an "accident"..) and I fed him his breakfast and gave him 2 OK release commands as a gift.  (He's still jerking me around with that OK release command.)  He laid next to my chair as I snuggled with a blanket and box of Puffs tissues.  Every time I got up - to move a trash can next to my chair for all those Puffs, or to get a glass of water, or to make a cup of tea - he got up and followed me.  He even looked concerned.  I was touched.

I made myself some homemade chicken noodle soup and set it on the dining room table.  Harley was sitting on the arm of the sofa looking back and forth from me to the window.  I felt a tug on my heart and decided to give him a treat; I also decided to take his halter off.  I called him over and removed the halter and hung it in the laundry room.  When I returned - talking out loud about getting him a treat - he was jumping off the dining room chair.

*FLB.

I don't know if he stuck his nasty conniving nose into my soup or not.  I ate it anyway.  And I did NOT give him a treat.

*FLB.

Don't worry.  He's fine.  I just told him to go to his bed in the living room.  I wanted to put my slippered foot up his butt....but....butt....but....I didn't.

=*freakin' little bastard

Audio Books and Driving

Blogging remotely from Covington, Georgia

When I decided to spend Thanksgiving with my daughter's family one of the most important items on my to-do list was :  get audio books at the library.  The drive from St. Augustine to Covington is six to seven hours depending on traffic congestion, road construction, and determination in "making good time".  I've made it in seven and I've done it in six.  Audio books keep me entertained and awake, two important ingredients for driving long distances by myself.  A third ingredient is plenty of caffeine:  I know all the Starbucks on my route.

So last night I had the *FLB in the backseat; he sits in the pink Princess car seat that my other daughter gave me last Christmas so my granddaughter could zip around town with me.  Harley doesn't seem to mind the color or the Princess logo repeated all over the seat; he's secure in his sexuality - or what's left of it after I had him neutered.

In the front passenger seat was my CD player, the audio book A Most Wanted Man by John LeCarre', backup audio book for the return trip Nightmares and Dreamscapes by Stephen King (a collection of short stories), and my purse.  You might be wondering why I had a CD player on my front seat instead of using my car's CD player.  Well, the car's CD player finally died earlier this year.  It didn't quit working all at once; no, that would be "normal".  Instead, like all things electronic in my family, it died piece by piece.

It was the kind of CD player where all the CDs are loaded into the CD changer in the trunk.  A wonderful invention where I could load 6 music CDs or 6 Audio CDs and listening to all 6 would get me almost to my destination.  When the CD player started to die, it died one CD disc holder at a time.  So on one memorable trip up to north Georgia I listened to DISC#1, then DISC#2, then DISC#4....WHAT?  At least for that trip I was listening to Christmas music and not an audio book; skipping whole chunks of a book would have driven me nuts.  Over the next couple months the CD player continued to quit working one disc at a time.  Finally it just died.

So with a fresh set of 8 "C" batteries and my first CD disc loaded I headed north towards Florida.  Just as I merged onto I-95 my cell phone rang; it was my long-time best friend Bonnie who lives in St. Petersburg.  (Florida not Russia)  We hadn't talked in weeks, so we spent the next hour catching up.  I had to be careful; traffic wasn't too heavy,  but the last time I got in a cell-phone discussion with Bonnie while I was driving long distances, I overshot my destination exit by 15 miles!  This time, HA!, I saw the sign for I-295 WEST just in time to cut across two lanes of traffic and make it.  We talked all around Jacksonville and hung up as I merged onto I-10 West.  Traffic was very heavy by then and I had to pay strict attention.  Besides, Bonnie had to go.

I listened to my first CD disc of A Most Wanted Man after I filled up with gas in Macclenny,  Florida.  And may I just say that Macclenny was a bit nerve-racking.  There was a Wal-Mart with a gas station on the outer perimeter of its parking lot, and people were lined up for gas like it was on sale or something.  (It wasn't.)  Just past the gas station a couple had parked their pickup truck on the grass and she was holding up a hand-lettered sign that said FREE PUPPIES and MOMA FREE TOO.   "Moma" looked like a pit-bull-mix as did the puppy that the man was holding up.  No thanks.  And please, they couldn't spell Mama?  Momma?  Anything but MOMA.

I spotted an oasis in this rural outback - STARBUCKS - and got myself a grande vanilla latte at the drive-thru.  Thus fortified I returned to the gas station and grabbed a pump without any problem.  Once safely out of Macclenny I started my CD player and enjoyed the first installment of my book.  By the end of the disc I was in Georgia.  It was dark as pitch and I didn't think I should be changing discs while hurtling along I-75 north in a construction zone.  I waited until the construction zone ended and at the next exit pulled off for a drink (LARGE diet Pepsi with a shot of cherry) and a disc change.  I also took the *FLB for a "walk".

The 2nd disc finished just as I passed Macon.  I couldn't tell you one detail or memory of that part of the drive.  I must have been watching the road, but I don't remember it.  My mind was totally on the book.  If I thought about it much I guess I'd be scared, but Harley and I made it to my daughter's house in one piece.

Epilogue:  This morning when my grandson ran into the living room to see his darling Grenah, he ran PAST me and to the French doors where he hollered:  HARLEY!  HARLEY!

*FLB=freakin' little bastard