Don't Read This ~ You've Been Warned!

A while ago, I told you about what a hairy hound Ramses is. Well, the last few days have been very warm in Seattle and ~ how can I put this delicately? Ramses has started to blow his coat. If you recall my blogpost of May 16, I discussed His Supreme Hairiness in (I'm sorry) excruciating detail.

Today makes that post read like Ramses is a Mexican Hairless! Especially because I'm having friends for dinner and he's a complete shedding fool. Professional, even!

So, here's what is happening. This evening, my exchange student from China who stayed here last summer while she interned at Microsoft is coming to dinner with her mother. Eme graduated from university a little while ago and her mother came to see the ceremony. Eme is starting work at Microsoft, has rented her apartment and is ready to go. She wanted us to meet her mother before she goes back to China the first of the week.

My neighbor Chuck is particularly fond of her. His hectic travel schedule sometimes makes coordination of festivities difficult. But, good news! He and his girlfriend are available tonight to see Eme and her mother.

So, I've been doing all the things people do who are having others over for dinner ~ blow off the driveway, the courtyard and back decks, mow the weensy patch of lawn, make the shopping list for dinner and hors d'oeuvres and vacuum.

Good thing my napkins are ironed (God, that Heidi! She's such a little overachiever! :-), but . . .

Whoa! What the hell is Ramses' coat doing? As fast as I vacuum it up, the more the hair literally blows off his body. Oh, jeez! He's blowing his coat. I know, I'll give him a quick brush/comb. Oh dear God! It's time to go nuclear. A major attack is required. So, for the last hour, I've been brushing/combing Ramses. The horrifying thing is I have this mondo pile of feather-soft apricot undercoat (see above) and he could really benefit from another hour of combing. But, if I spend another hour combing him, I won't be ready for dinner at 6:00.

So, I'm going to call it good (that's an optimistic view ~ read fairy tale) and get back to work.

Mmmm, I wonder if there's a cottage industry in constructing hairnets for dogs?

"Oh, I can't think about this now! I'll go crazy if I do! I'll think about it tomorrow. I'll think about later . . .  when I'm at Tara" . . . right now, it's shopping, preparation for dinner and another quick vacuum.

I'll report in later . . .

Day 51 Everyday Grateful ~

Such a gorgeous sunny day. Warm, still, bright. 

Friends over for dinner.

Logan is in rehearals for Rent!

Happy!

http://www.amazon.com/Gone-Wind-Margaret-Mitchell/dp/0446365386

http://thefairhero.blogspot.com/2012/05/wow-what-great-dog-does-he-shed-much.html

French Toast for Sunday Brunch ~ The Aftermath . . .

Oh, that was delicious! French toast for brunch. Sure it used a dozen eggs, but, oh, yum!

My next door neighbor Chuck was the guest of honour. First, it's Father's Day and he's our in loco fathertis and secondly, it was a continuation of his birthday.

There were four of us for breakfast. Karen went off to church so we saved some for her. Kim regaled us about her first visit to Fremont and her first encounter with the Naked Bicyclists in the Solstice Parade.

Once we started talking about bikes, we talked about the STP (Seattle to Portland bike race) the RAMROD (Ride around Mount Rainier in One Day) riding in the abandoned train tunnels in the Cascades, riding from Germany to Copenhagen.

We talked about the Lenin statue and its pride of place on Leary Avenue and Kim got her picture taken with the Fremont Troll under the Aurora Avenue bridge. We talked about the education system in the US, Paul Krugman and the handbasket it looks like we may be in. We talked about this and that and worked our way through a pan of scrumptiousness.

Is this a great country or what!

Yes, we saved some for Karen!

 

Day 49 Everyday Grateful ~

Sunny, blustery day, friends for brunch.

Called the Bear in Milan to wish him a Happy Father's Day.

Happy!

Wow! What a Great Dog! Does He Shed Much?

You know how when you're listening to the radio and the announcer says, "this next story contains subject matter which may be distressing to some listeners?"

Well, this blog post may be distressing to some readers who have a low tolerance for eeeeuuuuwww things. If you do, stop reading now and tune in tomorrow.

More about Ramses:

As you know, he's a massive dog. Not in the 200# variety, but in the 140# variety. Ramses is a Leonberger. It's an old German breed from Leonberg, Germany. It was bred to be the town mascot ~ the Lion Dog. Lion City, Lion Dog. Get it?

Bred in the middle of the 19th Century, Ramses' forebears were Newfoundland, Great Pyrenees, and St. Bernard dogs. Noble, hairy dogs all. They actually only have one flaw. They drool. Not just drool, mind you. They are professional droolers.

Their drool can be found on lampshades, on the ceiling cornice moulding, on the ceiling fan as it spins over the dining room table, across the Dutch master oil painting you found for $5.00 at Goodwill, on the seat of your pants, down the inside of your thigh, running down the windows in your car.

While I consider myself an evolved person, I'm sooooo not into drool.

Leonbergers don't drool. Ramses is the perfect dog. Well, there is one thing. He sheds. Leonbergers "blow their coats" a couple of times a year. This is where you have to really love euphemisms. When I say blow their coat, I mean sacks full of hair, vacuum canisters emptied three times full of hair; I mean, when they got up from the floor, they leave a dog body print of clumps of hair on the floor, the carpet. The carpet in my bedroom looks like a terrifying pilly sweater.

They are professional shedders.

And, their hair is like cashmere. Ramses' undercoat is this wonderful apricot colour. Every time I'd throw out a giant bag of hair, I'd think, "this is so wonderful, it's a shame to pitch it out."

Well, over the years, I'd watch my good friend Grita turn fibers of all kinds into glorious needlecraft. I asked her if she spun. Yes, in fact, she did. I told her about Ramses' hair. And, she allowed as how she'd like to give spinning it a try. She pronounced it lovely.

I now have an outlet for all the hair produced by my big hairy hound. Of course, it is beginning to feel a little like taking straw to the miller's daughter to spin into gold, but, so far, she doesn't cringe when I bring her a couple of sacks.


Over the years, I've given her enough of Ramses' hair to spin the wool for a Russian army officer's great coat with matching trousers and vest. Bales!

A while ago, she presented me with a scarf woven from Ramses' hair. Wow! It's fantastic. The warp is linen ~ sort of a deeper than cinnamon, lighter than oxblood red. The weft is all Ramalator! It's gorgeous.

There's only one problem . . .

When people comment on how pretty my scarf is and ask what it is made of, I always wonder what the right answer is. "Dog" feels like a bit of a conversation stopper. I'm working on it.

Day 32 Everyday Grateful ~

Sunny, bright, still. Happy.