CURRENT STATE OF AFFAIRS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

one lonely tadpole

We experienced a minor miracle yesterday (minor miracle seems an oxymoron to me, though). The miracle was that it didn't rain. The water in my backyard receded a bit, but a close look at the remaining water shows the tadpoles swirling and whirling.  

Take a look at the photo of one lonely tadpole and try to imagine hundreds, perhaps even thousands of the little monsters swimming in circles in my backyard.

Interestingly, the dogs pay no attention to them.

Most of the tadpoles won't have a chance to make the transition to frogs. Unless we have a massive amount of rain everyday for many days to come, the water will continue to dry up and flies will descend on the dying tadpoles, covering them as they scream in horror.

Then the tadpoles will be gone.

The really good news is that I no longer look like this:

The frogs are quiet now. Perhaps it's because they're too busy creating tadpoles. I'm grateful they aren't yammering anymore. When they chanted, "Attack the Earth," they went too far.

It's so much easier to sleep without heavy rain and croaking frogs.

Tomorrow, I'll present a question and answer Friday. Juli asked the question, and I have the answer. I'm surprised more of you don't ask me questions. After all, I am the most interesting person I know.

Of course, I only know two or three other people.

After a short period of feeling pretty good, I'm experiencing the blues again. I hope they don't last too long. I'm back to the perp walk -- that kind of bent over move because the troubles of the world are on my shoulders and my feet can't leave the ground and my head hangs low.

My posts may be sporadic during the next couple of weeks. I have ordered a number of books I want to read and review. Most of the authors are our beloved blogger friends. I look forward to lots of reading and then writing reviews full of praise.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. No tengo cucarachas.

LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES WHAT? MONDAY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Here in Dogtown it continues to rain. I'm fascinated by the way one frog will croak out a particular word or phrase, and then all the other frogs follow suit. The first night of heavy rains, they all said, Damn, Damn. Last night they started with Dancer, Dancer, and then moved on to Attack the Earth, Attack the Earth.

I haven't seen another regular cockroach, but last night when I was getting the Z Boys in after their final visit to the great outdoors, two palmetto bugs ran in, screaming, We can't stand more rain. I screamed, Bastards! and ran after them with the vacuum cleaner and sucked them up successfully, completely forgetting that Little Chick had given me a nice can of buy spray.

Tonight I shall be prepared. When I open the door for the boys, I'll have the can in my hand. Just in case.

Now over in Gumption we have a What? Monday question.

Forrest Gump: What's my destiny, Mama? 
Mrs. Gump: You're gonna have to figure that out for yourself

Today's What? Monday question is Do you have a destiny, or are you blowing through life likes a feather?

Here's my answer: God gave humankind the freedom to make choices, but God knows what we will choose. Therefore, nothing is an accident. Nothing is coincidental. Sometimes I feel as if I'm a feather, blowing from one place to another, but God helps me make decisions if I listen to Her. She always knows where I'm going. If I get off track, then She brings me back to my destiny. But since I don't have a crystal ball that allows me to see my fate, Life remains a constant surprise.

Now, how about you? 

Do you have a destiny, or are you blowing through life likes a feather?

I look forward to reading your answers. You are such interesting people, with many different ways of thinking.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MOVIE MOVIE WEEKEND

Gentle Readers,

It's raining.
It's pouring.
But I doubt if I'll be snoring.
The frogs are so loud.
They gather in a crowd.
The plague keeps me awake all night.
I look like a fright.

This is me.

Although I am thankful for life-giving water after a year-long drought, my backyard is a pool, making it difficult for the dogs to find a place to go, if you know what I mean. If this downpour continues, soon I shall have my very own tadpole pool.

Well, let me tell you about two movies.

The first is We Need To Talk About Kevin.

This movie is brilliant. It's well made and the acting is superb.

However, it is frightening. It is shake-you-to-your-very core scary.

And I don't mean it has zombies. Eva (Tilda Swinton) is young Kevin's mom. John C. Reilly plays Franklin, Eva's husband and Kevin's dad. Two young men play Kevin -- one as a young child and one as a teenager. The young actors have an amazing talent for portraying Kevin's malevolence.

But why is Kevin evil?

Franklin is partly to blame with his boys will be boys attitude.

Some of the blame may rest with nature.

So how much blame rests with Eva? She can be incredibly patient with Kevin and incredibly cruel to him. Remember how doctors used to say that if a child was autistic it was because the mother was cold and uncaring?

I hate that (disproved) theory, so I was reluctant to blame Eva because although Kevin is not autistic, he is incredibly vicious and inhuman. But then I woke up and remembered that we see events from Eva's point of view.

ONE CAN NEVER COMPLETELY TRUST A FIRST-PERSON NARRATOR.

We see what Eva allows us to see, and it is horrifying. If you experience health problems, are prone to sleepless nights after seeing something frightening, or are just plain very sensitive, then I recommend you not watch this movie. Otherwise, please watch and learn. You will see an outstanding film with a strange bluegrassy/country score that fits its weirdness perfectly.

We Need To Talk About Kevin is new to DVD.

A slightly older movie is my second choice for this week. It's called Limitless and stars eye-candy man Bradley Cooper, whose talent is so much better served here than in those dumb Hangover movies.

I started out thinking, I like this movie. It's stylized. It's cool. I like the score. I like the acting.

But it has a drug problem and needs to go into rehab. Cooper's character, Eddie, is a writer who doesn't write -- even though he actually has a book contract! What wouldn't we all give for that?

Then Eddie takes a pill that provides him with limitless abilities and intelligence. Before long, I started to feel that the movie glorified drug use. When Eddie faces death because of the drug, I started to think the movie was headed in the right direction -- because a drug used illegally and incorrectly can cause such harm.

I don't want to tell you what happens with the drug and Eddie. It would spoil the movie for you. But I was not pleased with the end. You might want to watch this movie so you can see that Bradley Cooper really isn't just another pretty face, but I wouldn't let kids watch it. If older teens see it, then you should have a family discussion afterwards.

I recommend these movies with trepidation and with warnings. If they're not a good fit for you, then watch a silly comedy that won't damage your psyche.

I hope you have a lovely weekend. I hope to see the sun shine.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

IF WE COULD TALK TO THE ANIMALS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,


Reminder: You can email a question to us, and one or both of us will answer it on a Friday. I've only received two questions, and strangely enough, they both had to do with sex. Doesn't anyone else have a question you're just burning to ask me? 


Now, at long last, let's get started with today's post.


Here in Dogtown, communication skills have improved with one of the Z Boys.

Simple communication skills remain pretty much the same. It's 7 a.m. or 5 p.m., so the boys stare at me. Breakfast served at 7; supper served at 5.

When Harper stands outside and barks at the door, it means not that he wants to come inside, but that he wants Franklin to come outside and play. The bromance continues.

Scoutie hurls himself against the bathroom cabinet before bed because he's reminding me that he gets a biscuit at bedtime. So does everyone else, including me. Mmmmmm. I loves me a good Milk Bone.

All rightie, then. What's changed?

I'm about to tell you.

Faulkner the smooth collie (July 26, 1997 - July 27, 2010) was amazingly communicative. And it was pure instinct. If I dropped something, he wouldn't stop staring at it until I picked it up. He saved me from losing mail out in the driveway on the second day he lived with us because he refused to walk to the house when I didn't notice I had dropped an envelope. If one of the other dogs needed to go out during the night, Faulkner put his cold wet nose directly on my dry warm nose. If that actually failed to awaken me, he put his long collie nose under my head and lifted it off the pillow.

He had a variety of barks that only I recognized. He had a bark for Oh My God, the school bus is in front of the house and ugly kids are disembarking; a bark for Someone is on the way to the door, so Mom, put some clothes on; a bark for Get out here right now because it is a freaking emergency.

He also used the head jerk, pointing in the direction of the water bowls if H2O was lacking.

When Franklin came to live with me 1 1/2 years ago and learned three commands in the first 24 hours, I was pleased that he was so intelligent. But he didn't seem to have the instinctive intelligence that Faulkner had.

That's changed.

Franklin has become much more communicative, and he figured it out for himself. If I call Harper and he ignores me because he's playing in the yard or napping, Franklin runs to Harper, nudges Harper on the shoulder or forehead with his nose, and Harper comes running to me with Franklin. Harper might not obey me all the time (or any of the time), but Harper always obeys Franklin.

A few days ago I told Scout to stop digging a hole in the backyard. Scout gave me this look that mumbled, I'm agonna stop for now, but the minute you go in, I start agin.

But Scout didn't start when I headed for the house because Frankie Big Paws stood over him to make sure Scout did as told.

When someone he knows arrives in the driveway, Franklin fires off a brief warning bark and then comes to get me.

When someone he doesn't know arrives in the driveway, Franklin stands up at the front door and gives that person holy hell. He scared off some Jehovah's Witnesses recently.

So Franklin has the instinctive intelligence I thought he didn't have. He communicates with me, and with his fellow Z  boys. If I needed him to herd sheep, or cattle, or cats, or whatever, I'm sure he could learn to do the job.

Well, maybe not cats. And definitely not cucarachas, though we haven't seen any.

But I'm thrilled that Franklin has turned out to be so intelligent. I don't know if he kept his instincts hidden for a time, or if they've gradually risen to the surface.

I do know he's one darn good dog.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

CALL THE DOGS!

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have a video I want to share with you. Fishducky sent this to her "Duckies" last weekend.

Obviously, I am a Ducky, and someday we Duckies will take over the world. You just wait and see.

But for now, we present Einstein:


My favorite part is when Einstein "calls the dog" because in my house, Einstein calls, and three dogs immediately run into the room to find out why they're wanted. The most interesting thing to me is that I do not call my dogs by whistling. But somehow they know they are being called.

Tomorrow I want to write about how communication is changing with the Z Boys here in Dogtown.

We leave you with some of our favorite photos.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

I WASN'T GOING TO DO THIS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I wasn't going to do this. I had a different post planned for today.

But now, in honor of little AR, I must ask you to go to Melynda's blog and vote for the photos I submitted of our darling little girl. They are the first two photos on her blog, so in the Comments section just say you vote for #1; and no, that does not mean you vote for pee.

Voting for #1 means you vote for this:

Could this little girl get any cuter? Well, I bet the boys will think so when she's older. Then Daddy and Favorite Young Man will frighten those boys into keeping their hands to themselves.

Please note that AR is reading the book upside down; therefore, it is funny no matter how you read it.

Melynda's contest is to choose the funniest, cutest photo of someone reading her book. Obviously, AR is funniest and by far the cutest.

I realize that many of you follow Melynda's blog and have already voted. It's all good, mama. But if you haven't voted yet, or if you don't follow Mel's blog, then would you please go to http://melyndarockinthecrazy.blogspot.com/2012/06/i-was-absent-yesterday-but-i-do-have.html?showComment=1338755131234#c453220409958645118 and vote for #1?

It will mean a lot to little AR, and to Mommy and Daddy.

AR is our star!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

WHAT? MONDAY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today's question is quite simple, yet it may be difficult to answer. I know I could give dozens of responses.

Uh-oh, here we go: What are your favorite songs? Or do you have a particular type of music that you prefer, such as classical, without having a favorite piece?


This question does not give you carte blanche to whine about rap. I've heard it all before. Don't bore me. Reach out and grab my interest (NO! Not there, Coffey).


I'll limit myself to three answers.





And, finally, I think the third is my all-time favorite.


Now, how 'bout it? What are your favorite songs?


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


P.S. I know I stuck to oldies (they don't really seem so old to me), but I like a lot of what I hear now, especially Bon Jovi and, yes, Lady Gaga. And don't you dare make fun of me.

Bonus favorite: