I never really wanted a dog. I am not a 'dog person'. I perceive dogs as outdoor creatures who are best suited to very specific, important tasks. I have very little room in my domestic life for a dog whose main purposes are entertainment and companionship. Much to my eventual dismay, I acceded to welcome a dog into our family. My present opinion is this: This is the one and only dog our family will ever take care of, so I may as well accept it and try to enjoy it.

You see, when other people tell me stories about the funny things their dogs do, I don't really care. Usually I am polite and listen well. I try to understand what is so interesting about the dog's antics. But really, so what if the dog does something funny? I don't understand what all the fuss is about. If someone proclaims how cute a dog is, I have a difficult time agreeing. Dogs just look different, and they smell weird, and they're just so, doggish.

Friends assured me that once I saw how happy my kids would be with the dog, it would make it all worthwhile. Hmm, nope. The kids were happy before the dog. In fact, our youngest is now in competition with the dog, but over what I don't know. You see, I don't understand dogs, I don't speak their language and I certainly don't know what the heck they want, besides constant attention. I don't need another creature to take care of. Like I said, I never really wanted a dog.

People have told me that our dog is a really good dog. He has a command for coming back to us, and he doesn't bark at all. He 'bays' when he has important needs to express. He sleeps a lot, which is nice, and he doesn't have fleas, which is essential. He enjoys spending a lot of time outside. But there are still a couple of things I don't understand: Why is he always following us around? Why does he always want to sit right next to us when we're on the couch?

After complaining about it a lot this week, I began to get tired of the sound of my own voice. I suppose a change of attitude is in order. I can choose to be humbled by our newest family member, and I can choose to adjust to this new lifestyle. Sigh. I can choose to be a 'dog person'. Chuckle. I can choose to be amused by the dog. Grin. For the sake of new possibilities, I can choose to enjoy the challenge of loving and accepting our newest family member.

The weather has been warm this week, and the ground has finally dried out. I'm in outdoor mode, working in the garden, playing in the yard, neglecting the indoor world of housework, laundry and food prep. I want to make a small fire pit in the garden, for cooking and for twilight warmth. I think once a week we'll eat outside around the fire. This is the time of the year when I need to make adjustments in the usual routine. When the weather is nice out, playing in the sunshine becomes the top priority.

The Factory

Last week the boys and I went to the old Chrysler factory. The contents were on display for public viewing in preparation for an auction. I was inspired to treat the opportunity as one would a field trip to a special museum. I packed a backpack with drinks and some light snacks, put fresh batteries in my camera and arrived early enough so that we didn't feel rushed. Along the way I said a few things in advance about our visit:

"Now, this is an old factory where they used to make cars. It may smell a bit like chemicals, and it will probably be dark and cold. We're going to see a lot of neat machines and tools. When I stop to take a picture, you need to stay near me. No wandering off. Just let me know if there are any neat things you see that you would like for me to photograph."

The entrance was welcoming, and as we stepped inside, I tried to imagine what it must have felt like to work there. The air was cold and the lighting was dim. There were acres of concrete floor, vents and electrical wiring overhead, rows upon rows of small metal pieces, and rooms upon rooms of all types of machinery.

The boys were enamored by the vastness of it all:

"Mom, what's that? An indoor street sweeper truck?"

"Oh, take a picture of that thing, over there, the one with all the buttons!"

"Hey, that looks like gold. Maybe they forgot this. It looks important."

We had a lot of fun exploring, and we're looking forward to watching the cranes disassemble it in the coming months.