In case you've forgotten what snow looks like - our home
on Feb. 17, 2003, after nearly two feet of snow.

Clearing the fog

Since the middle of last week I have been spending the majority of my days hacking, coughing, blowing my nose and - for good measure - sneezing.
It kinda snuck up on me. I noticed last weekend that my nose was a bit stuffy.
By Monday, I had a cough that seemed to have no meaning. Just a cough.
On Tuesday, the intensity of the cough had increased to the point that Brian, whose cube is on the other side of mine, commented on all the racket I was making.
By Wednesday, the cold had settled in like slow-moving summer storm.
I had a meeting after work on Wednesday, one that went from 5 p.m. to 9. As the evening wore on my voice dropped several octaves.
I don't know how the Ump slept on Wednesday night because I kept jumping up and down, coughing, blowing my nose, getting something to drink.
Thursday was a sunny morning, but I certainly had a cloudy disposition. So I stayed home.
In the old days I probably would have dragged myself into work and tried to get things accomplished despite my stormy health situation. Many times I shut myself in my office at the paper and warned people away.
Nowadays, however, I work in a cube farm with lots of folks around me. It didn't seem very fair for me to drag my colony of germs into that environment.
Plus I felt like crap.
The coughing kept me from being able to sleep, so through bleary eyes I watched daytime television. Awful stuff, daytime TV. I felt like I had eaten a box of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls. It seemed like a good idea, but in the end it's only fluff and empty calories.
I stayed home Friday too. It killed me to burn up PTO - especially since I had to take a week off in November for my foot.
So now it is Sunday night. Today is the first good day that I've had. The cough is quiet and only occasionally do I sneeze.
Back to work, I guess.
Cough, cough. Achoooo.

It's a new year

I'm not sure how I feel about 2006.
I haven't taken the protective cover off it yet. It's still in bubble wrap in the box. Too soon to pull it out and take a good look.
It's still squeaky clean - a white board with no markings.
I put my new calendar on the wall in the kitchen and started marking some of the important dates. I did the same at work. On the one hand, it feels good to be organized. On the other hand, when the square start to fill with meetings and appointments, it starts to look like 2006 is going to be another 2005.
When you are a kid and you hear adults talk about how fast the years go by, it sounds like a dumb thing to say. Back then it felt like at least two years between birthdays and maybe three before Christmas ever came again.
And the summers. Oh the summers were deliciously long. The days seemed to last forever - playing outside until the sun went behind the mountains and the lightning bugs came out to wink good night to us.
So I'm thinking maybe I need to adopt a more youthful approach to my days. To squeeze as much out of each day as possible with as much enthusiasm as possible.
At the end of the church service this morning we sang "This Little Light of Mine." It was an uplifting experience as we actually clapped hands while we sang. We don't do that in church very often. We're Methodists. We take church seriously - especially on Communion Sunday.
Our pastor has been trying for about a year to get us to shout Amen now and again. Every now and then someone gets bold and does it, but we are a quiet bunch during the preaching hour.
What was I talking about? Oh, light. This little light of mine. I'm going to let it shine.
I don't make resolutions because it is like asking my dogs not to pee on the bushes out front - as soon as you turn your back, the legs come up.
So let's say I am meditating on a way to make this year turn out better than last year and my decision is to let the light shine on me and reflect that light to others as best I can.
Maybe by adopting this attitude, I can create a more shiny 2006.
"Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine..."

Olivia, granddog Cooper, grumpy Ump. 

Sorry. I've been drifting

I try very hard to stick to a rigid schedule of updating the blog once a week, but over the holidays I allowed myself to drift away a little.
I apologize.
Back on track in 2006.
We had a busy, boisterous holiday. I had to work straight through with the exception of the two Mondays which were company holidays. I am grateful for those, but would have liked to have had off a chunk of time when my family was home.
Alas, my foot and the Ump's heart KOed my PTO. (That's knocked out my paid time off for those of you who hate acronyms.
The latest addition to our family showed up here the day after Christmas.
Olivia and her boyfriend, Webb, adopted a 3-year-old Golden Retriever from the Floyd County animal shelter. Seems Cooper (I like his name - though I wondered it if was a misspelling, because I know a lot of Goldens named Copper) was turned into the animal shelter because he was caught with his paws in a neighbor's chicken house. This is a crime often punishable by buckshot if the dog is caught red-handed, so he's probably lucky to have made it to the shelter.
Olivia and Webb had talked to us about their desire for a dog. My advice to them was to adopt an older dog instead of getting a puppy. Bringing a dog into your life is often a bigger responsibility than you realize.
It's not like Olivia is not familiar with animals - she has been around dogs and cats her whole life. But she was never the primary caregiver.
There a big difference between filling up the water bowl and pulling ticks off. Dogs provide a lot of fun and love, but they are also dirty, smelly, hairy and prone to sitting precisely where you do not want them to sit.
Multiply that by 10 and you understand what it is like to live with a puppy.
Puppies always go where you don't want them to go. Literally. When you are housebreaking a dog, it seems they always find your favorite carpet or rug when they have to go to the bathroom. Then, when you pick them up, slip on the collar and leash, and take them outside, they just sit on your foot and look up at you like: "How come we're out here at midnight?"
So I was quite happy to hear that they had adopted a nice dog who was already neutered and had his shots and was from a relatively happy home. Hopefully no chickens live within in roaming distance.
When Cooper arrived at the house, we kept the three big dogs in the kitchen and Peanut in the bedroom. The barking was phenomenal. A regular din of inequity as our dogs loudly protested being jailed in the kitchen. Cooper, on the other hand, spoke not a word.
As things started to calm down a little, we introduced one dog at a time to Cooper.
Eventually the barking stopped, but the dogs paced around as they got to know each other.
I'm afraid Cooper might have thought he was back in the shelter. He stuck close to Olivia most of the time.
At one point Olivia noticed a puddle of water on the floor - on one of three rugs in the house, of course. We cleaned it up and threw the rug in the washing machine. No one actually saw Cooper commit the crime, but we put two-and-two together.
I became convinced our deduction was correct when Cooper wandered into the den where I was working on the computer. When I looked over top the screen to see what Cooper was doing, all I could see was a large, shaggy golden leg arched toward the Christmas tree.
"COOPER!" I shouted, but to no avail. He completed his action before dropping the leg, leaving a large puddle behind.
Again Olivia and I cleaned up the mess and I threw the tree skirt in the washing machine.
Before he returned to Radford, Cooper peed again on that tree and then on the one in the dining room. That tree skirt went in the wash too.
I've always wondered why my dogs never did that. I mean if you think about it, why wouldn't a tree in the house seem like indoor plumbing to a dog?
Poor Cooper had to meet several other dogs and at least three cats during his visit to Woodstock and West Virginia. I think he was probably very grateful to get back to his new home.
It was a lesson for Olivia. She wanted to bring the dog home so everyone could see it and, I imagine, she didn't want to leave him behind for a couple of days since she had just taken ownership. It's an exciting time. But it probably was not the best thing for Cooper.
At one point during her visit she decided to cancel plans to go to the movies with a friend because she was concerned about Cooper. That's when I knew that it was really starting to sink in.
Before I got my first dog, I imagined how he would look, beautifully groomed and lying in front of the fireplace, sleeping peacefully.
Coalie was beautiful, but I don't think he ever slept in front of the fireplace. He slept where and when he wanted and he turned my life upside down. But I loved that dog.
Having the responsibility of a animal's life is not something anyone should take lightly. So many people get a dog and tie it up out back and only interact with it when they bring a bowl of food and water. Pets are not lawn ornaments. They are members of the family.
Hopefully, Cooper knows he can always come home for a visit. Next holiday season, however, I'll restrict his access to the Christmas trees.