Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


Notes:

  • Photo: Sully waking up… (Susan’s Photo)
  • Sully background

Lightly Child, Lightly

I’m tired.

I want to build a cushion nest in a space under one of the windows where there’s a patch of sunlight and go to sleep.

— Jillian HortonWe Are All Perfectly Fine: A Memoir of Love, Medicine and Healing


Notes:

  • Photo: DK of Sully taking a nap in sunlight. (Wed, April 13, 2022)
  • Sully background
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

23° F. Forecast: Feels like -1° F.


Sully is hunkered down. It’s been a long day.

Sunday Morning is for….

\

Sully and for Pancakes…
(note the drool)


Sully background

5:00 P.M. Bell! S-1 & S-2

S-1 (Sully) and S-2 (Shroooooommmmm aka Giant Puffball Mushroom @ 1 week’s growth). (DK Photo @ 2:30 p.m. today).  Initial post on our Giant Puffball here.

I like Sunday Nights

It’s Sunday. I like Sunday nights, and this particular time always puts me in a good mood…

A transition into Monday, a waiting room.

—  Brenda Lozano, “Loop.”


Photo: Sully.

Saturday Afternoon


Notes:

  • Nap Time! Sully fast asleep. Head strategically placed on top of the air conditioning vent. (Thank you Susan for Photo)
  • Background on Sully here.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (Let’s Go!)

 


Notes:

  • Rachel’s Sully visiting for the weekend.  (Thank you Eric for the video)

Walking. With Truckers, Parakeets & Puppies.

375 consecutive days. Like in a Row. Cove Island Morning Walk.  The commitment to stop this obsession on the 366th day, came and went. Rachel Cusk: ‘…this balking of my will.’ This pull of something Larger.

10:00 a.m. yesterday. Cablevision contractor (full mask the entire time because it’s the right thing to do) takes his wire cutters, and with a quick turn of his wrist, strips the white pvc wrapper from the copper wire. I couldn’t do that without slashing my index finger. Wish I could do Something with these hands. Need to watch Dick Proenneke’s Youtube documentary on building a log cabin in the Alaskan Wilderness. That’s right. Get off-grid and build something. 

4:35 a.m.  Newspaper ‘Man’ (not Boy, not on a 2-wheeler but an early model Nissan) flicks his wrist and the NY Times  sails in slow motion, its blue wrapper flapping in the air, and hits the driveway with a thud. I’d like to do this, just one morning…Fling papers on driveways, watch them skid on dewy front yards, or slow the car to wind it way back and slam it against the garage door…

4:45 a.m. I turn onto the I-95 entrance ramp. Truckers. So many Trucks.  So many red tail lights.  Not one time in the last 60-75 days, as I enter the merging lane, have these monster trucks not moved into the center lane to let me enter. Not.One.Time. Driving all night and still have the decency and courtesy of swinging their big rigs into the center lane to let me in. Not one Time. That’s Professional. 

I’m across from this giant tandem semi, which wobbles over into my lane and then straightens out. Must have reached over to give his puppy a snack.  Wheels. Life on the Road. “It can get lonely on the road60% of truckers are pet owners, 40% of them taking their pets on the road with them…Sarah Giles, 27, drives for All Freight Carriers and carries a pair of dogs — and…a green-cheeked conure parakeet. ‘They’re about a foot long, as smart as a 4-year-old and very affectionate,’ she said. ‘Bonnie wants to be on me all the time, insists on everything her way, and doesn’t like strangers near the truck.’”

Sarah has a pair (!) of dogs and parakeet!  I look ahead. Of the 10 truckers in front of me, 4 have buddies riding along.  My passenger seat is dark, empty, and Sad. No friends. That’s Sad.

5:39 a.m. I make my way up to the point at Cove Island Park.

Walking by myself.

No puppy.

But damn, what a view…


Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 5:24 to 5:39 am, May 15, 2021. 46° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

 

the act of looking out the window

When trapped indoors, the act of looking out the window can become a simple, nearly sublime pleasure. We talked to the cartoonist Tom Gauld about his latest cover for the magazine…

Do you have any favorite sights outside your window?

It’s nice to see more of my neighbors as they walk along the street—usually, many of them would be at work all day. And, when I take walks, I see a lot more people sitting by their front windows, often working on a laptop. The idea for this cover started when I walked past a building and noticed that there was a figure in almost every one of the windows. I tried to imagine an everyday event that might attract the attention of everyone in a building.

Do you have a dog, and, if you don’t, do you envy those who do?

I don’t have a dog, and really I’m more of a cat person, but I do see the appeal of a dog. It’s nice to have a reason to go out for a walk (or two) every day. I usually walk in the park with my younger daughter before she starts her online-school day, and almost everyone else is out there walking a dog. The dogs always seem very happy.

— Françoise Mouly, excerpts from her interview of Tom Gauld on his magazine cover titled “Captive Audience” in The New Yorker, March 15, 2021

Saturday Afternoon

Sully visiting this weekend. (Feels like 10° F outside) 

T.G.I.F. It’s Been A Long Week


Sebastian Luczywo: Father Captures Playful Moments with his Family and Pets in Rural Poland. See more photos here at My Modern Met.

Weekend Plans


Photo of Rachel’s Sully.

Walking. With MJF.

Monday morning, 5 a.m. The night before, wind gusts up to 60 mph, heavy rain, and a tornado set down a few miles away. Trees down. Thousands without power in Fairfield County. The Kanigan house?  Silent. The lights burn, the furnace hums, Susan and Eric sleep. All is well.

I walk.

Cove Island Park.  There’s no evidence of havoc on the beach. It is swept clean. No drift wood. No trash. No humans. The sand is firm underfoot. I leave faint shoe marks. I don’t look back.

I never look back. 

It’s likely why the title of his book, No Time Like the Future, caught my attention. Michael J. Fox‘s new memoir, is pumping through my earbuds.

29 years old: Parkinson’s.

58 years old: Spinal cord surgery (unrelated to Parkinson’s) followed by long term rehab.

“I got grim,” he said in an interview in 2019. No shit.

I’m Canadian, like MJF, without the famous part.  He was born 5 months earlier, and yet handed a deck of cards that I’m not sure I could ever play.

He’s written 3 other memoirs titled “Lucky Man“, “Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist” and “A Funny Thing Happens on the Way to the Future.” You get the picture. It’s almost as if he was built to take the blows.

He’s narrating this new book.

Shame, that’s what I feel, as I have to slow down the narration speed on Audible to catch each word. Most with Parkinson’s speak slowly, but not MJF. He speaks rapidly, with certain words trailing off at the end of certain sentences. Actor. Married, 30 years. Father. Prolific fundraiser for Parkinson’s. Writer. Narrator of his own books. Super Man.

I walk, and I listen. [Read more…]

Sunday Afternoon

It felt as if one’s entire world was one, long Sunday afternoon. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go.

—  Ralph Gibson


Photo: Eric Kanigan of Sully and me. More on our Sully here and here and here.

Saturday Morning

Guess who came to visit!?!? Sully!


More on our Sully here and here and here. (Thank you Susan for taking photo)

Weather.com: 34° / Feels like 24° F. Wind gusts 19 mph.


Photo: anji (via Newthom)

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (If not now, when?)

About a week into quarantine, my husband and I were sitting on the couch when he turned his computer screen to show me an article he was reading. There was a picture of a cute dog, and a headline that suggested walking a dog was the best way to stay sane in these decidedly insane times. I rolled my eyes and took to Instagram to ridicule him for trying to use a global-health crisis to further his long-standing campaign to bring a pet into our lives. Three days later, we brought home a four-month-old puppy. His name is Barry.

While that might seem impulsive, my husband has been angling for a dog for roughly eight years—almost the entire time we’ve been together. He regularly sends me pictures of happy-looking dogs, volunteers to walk his family dogs even in the middle of Chicago winters, and has jumped at every opportunity to dogsit, an attempt to not only hang out with a four-legged companion, but also slowly convince me of how wonderful it would be to welcome a furry pal into our home. I, in turn, have given him lots of reasons for why a dog hasn’t made sense for us: We work a lot, we travel a lot (for business and pleasure), we like going out with our friends for dinner and drinks. In short, I valued the freedom and flexibility we enjoyed as a childless couple in a big city, and I worried that a dog would rob us of that lifestyle before I was ready.

The fact that dogs will be dogs has continually helped my case. Every instance of a puppy visitor peeing on our brand-new bedroom rug, eating the bread I just baked after snatching it off the counter, or ripping apart a piece of Tupperware in an attempt to get at the leftovers inside felt like a point in my favor. A dog was just too much trouble. Then the coronavirus handily dismantled our lives…

My experience so far suggests that there’s probably something to that idea. While housebreaking was hard, and it certainly isn’t ideal when Barry decides to bark for more attention while I attempt to have a series of Zoom meetings, our puppy is making us unreasonably happy. During a lengthy period of sadness and uncertainty, it has been cathartic to laugh at the random things Barry has decided to be afraid of—black plastic bags, parked bicycles, large trucks, the back alley, and stacks of cardboard boxes, to name just a few. And our walks provide a sense of purpose and structure. Having a new puppy has also helped us forge stronger connections with our friends and family—giving us all something to DM, call, FaceTime, and text about other than illness and angst.Barry has given us the invaluable gifts of levity and joy during this extraordinarily miserable crisis. I’m not really sure how we’ll repay him, but we’ve got lots of time, right here at home, to figure it out.

~ Gillian B. White, from “I Got a Pandemic Puppy, and You Can Too” (The Atlantic · April 11, 2020)

 


Photo Source: (via Newthom)

it’s hard to bow to the vastness of the sea when being pulled under

I was walking our dog during the pandemic, the neighborhood empty, the clouds heavy, and, through my headphones, the music of a man now gone, the love from his soul helping me keep my head above water. And though it’s hard to bow to the vastness of the sea when being pulled under, hard to believe in the merit of light when lost in the dark, hard to wait on love when painfully lonely—these larger truths never stop being true. Even as I voice this, someone is dying in the hall of an overcrowded hospital, while another is lifted from their own hell by the grace of a kindness no one saw coming. As if the spirit of the one dying arrives like pollen in the heart of the one stuck in hell, giving them just enough to begin again. If we could only give the extra warmth we receive to someone who is shivering. If we could shed the masks that keep us from ourselves, there would be enough to save the world.

~ Mark Nepo, “Sheltered-in-Place” (FB, April 5, 2020)


Notes: Photo – Axios. Quote: Thank you Make Believe Boutique. Inspired by Ray’s post: It’s all about Perspective

T.G.I.F: My New Work-From-Home Assistant

Sully is visiting Grandpa DK for the rest of the week. My new Work-From-Home Assistant peed all over my rug and was then quarantined in the penalty box.

More on our Sully here and here and here.


Photo: Eric Kanigan, March 18th, @ Home.

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