Time Off

Today was the last day I will be working until August 30. There are no words for the relief I feel. The last three weeks have been very difficult for me, as my motivation and energy have been at an all time low. It has been a grueling school year. We doctoral faculty are supposed to have the summer off from teaching so we can publish and conduct our research. Today I sent in an article to the Journal of Religion and Spirituality in Social Work--an article that has been in the making for four years. It is finally submitted. I have given the green light to a student to schedule his dissertation defense at the end of August, and sent the fifth revision suggestions of another dissertation to its owner today. All of my supervision except one individual has been either put on hold or parcelled out to others for the month. My work phone and email notifications that I'm out of the office have been created. So now I just need to relax.

Perhaps I'll sleep for the first week, if sleep is to be had with these little busybodies of ours. They need to be trained, as they still aren't too swift recognizing their own names, even if they are able to sit and come on command (if a treat is forthcoming). I have 108 packs of laminate wood flooring in the garage that I'd like to install in the house. It is sitting next to my new chop saw. I have six cans of paint, ready to get the bathrooms and our bedroom ceiling in order. The pale grey-green color for our bedroom walls has yet to be purchased. The material for our bedspread pillow shams are laid out and ready to be sewn. Every time I look at the livingroom windows I think about what kind of curtains I will make to hang. So there is no shortage of things to do while I'm off work. My challenge is to go slowly and to recognize that whatever doesn't get done now will be completed later.

While my neice is awaiting the birth of her second child, and my nephew is planning his wedding, while Sam is working every day, I will be here on the couch watching daytime TV, reading books that I have put off for four years, and cuddling my puppies. It is a good life after all.

Our Boys at 11 weeks

Here are our 10-week old babies. And I do mean, babies! As you can see, they can't seem to get close enough to us. We have licked toes and cheeks (yick), little eager faces that crumple up when we walk out of the room, and howls and gnashing of teeth when we leave them in their playpen. Above is Sam with Charlie, who has been nuzzling him for some time. Since he is a little Houdini, he is probably just pacing himself for a leap up onto the back of the sofa where Otis (the cat) is reclining (with an expression of utter disdain).

This is Charlie before he got groomed yesterday. He has a sensitive little soul and when I have shaken a newspaper at him he screamed out as though I were skinning him alive. We have to be very careful when we reprimand Baxter because Charlie goes and hides behind the chair just to get away from us. He is a little dickens though. No one can run as fast as this little guy can.

This is our pathetic-expressioned little Baxter who should have been named Doloroso. He is as cute as a button, but as naughty as a puppy can be. I'm forever pulling landscaping bark, lilly fronds, sticks, dead roses--anything he can get in his mouth--out of his teeth. It's a marvel that he's alive, for all the plant matter he has ingested over the last two weeks. He has an ear-rending little bark and whenever Charlie, who runs faster, takes off with something he wants, he barks him into dropping it. He has already been put in time-out twice this afternoon. Our little sensitive Charlie has been so horrified at his discipline that he laid in front of the kennel (his time-out spot) and whined.

And now they are trying to kill each other by tearing each other's ears and jowls off. I suppose that is what happens when you have two male dogs. They are eager to learn how to be leaders of the pack. That includes us. When they wake up in the morning and see us coming to let them out of their little doggie playpen, they come roiling out of there at 90 mph, unsure where they're going, but full of exhuberance and life. When we see them after being away, their little upturned faces, licks on our ankles, and wagging tails tell us that we made the right decision in getting them. I just love my boys!