Woo hoo Wales

In Wales again. This time my luggage didn’t arrive when I did. My single pair of underwear suffered for a few days, but the jet-lag gave me something to focus on besides my smell. I finally have socks and everything arrived just fine. I’m still a little tired. Having a great time here again, work, work, work, but it’s still exhilarating and keeping me interested. To boot, its spring, the daffodils are out and I’ll spend the weekend with some friends in Amsterdam on my way back to the states. Like old times.

It’s hard to remember that I just spent the weekend with the dogs on the beach. Even Nilla and FrankenOlly went (the sewn version of our poor ripped up Jack Russell). My Jake is handsome and filling out nicely, and both he and Nessa Rose are happy to be on the farm. I can’t complain, though it is quiet for what seems like the few days a month that I return to Virginia without them.

The last day

Today is my last day at my big corporate job. I'm going off on my own. Consultant man. No strings, no ties. No desk, just balls. Or brains. Or whatever it takes to succeed in business without a business. Pretty exciting.

In Wales

I'm in Wales. I landed shortly after I landed this new job. I worked 12 hours a day for a week, slept somewhere, and then found a weekend. It was a nice weekend in England. Chester to be exact. There were some horses, no dog, a few beers. Some long runs and a pie or two made their way in. Really lovely, as they'd say here. Can't complain all in all.

Today I'm back in Wales. Another long day. I seem to remember being very enthusiastic about this job and all the work I have yet to do when I was doing my Welsh scurrying last week.

Now it's Monday. In Wales. And Mondays in Wales are just like Mondays in other places.

Here's to Tuesday in Wales. When I'm enthusiastic and exhilarated to find myself in Wales with life and work ahead.

Radiator Leak?

Add pepper. Why? I don't get it. Dad says if you have a small leak in your radiator to put ground pepper in there. "Works every time," says he.

So naturally, I do it. And of course, it works. What the hell? How does that work? My truck has been overheating and popping and fuming (strange in this wintry* cold). I finally added a little pepper to my truck and tada! Runs like a gem. Huh?

My truck is becoming a winter treat. Pepper in the radiator and a layer of salt on the body.



*Whoever decided that the "e" is removed from "winter" when a "y" is added to the end is not my friend. That's a stupid rule. "Wintry" looks nothing like "winter" and loses all its panache. Lame, lame.

The mogul king

This weekend I abandoned my pooch for a day and headed south to the mountains to ski. It was grand. Once I got my legs under me I was able to leave the masses (and their long lift lines) behind to focus on the blacks. I am the mogul king. Except when I eat it. And then I'm more like a mogul jester.

To make it up to Jake I took him sledding on Sunday. We went to Fisher's Hill, a historic battlefield nearby, where gladly no historians made an appearance. Jake and I and the cows had the whole winter-scape to ourselves to construct several hundred yards of slalom run. With a sled I could lie down in, I could zip down the hill with Jake in hot pursuit. Towards the end my trip was so fast I would finish each run with that raucous cackle that betrays "oh my god I'm going to die on this thing but this is oh so fun." I had to flail all four legs outside the boat to slow myself down before I slid into the brambles and a ditch.

Then Jake got a hot shower and a hot meal. Pretty dandy for a Sunday. Plus I made the best Sundy brunch ever. Exhibit A:

Plus my friend in DC informed me that my underwear are still hanging from the rafters at my favorite bar. Long story. Suffice to say: I'm famous.

Dancing snowman "really gets down" in rural Virginia

Snow Snow Snow

Last night my boss informed me: "You need to leave." Not because of my grating personality, because of the snow! I got out to the empty parking lot to find my truck thus:

It didn't look like this in the morning. I scraped it off and headed home. The streets hadn't been plowed yet and it was slow going. I couldn't even drive up my giant hill and had to leave my truck behind and walk the rest of the way to the house.

Once home I changed, and Jake and I let lose. We romped, we snorted, we ran and we played. And then I tackled him and made him eat snow. A good six inches on the ground made my picnic table disappear and turned my clothes lines into 4 inch diameter tubes strung across the yard.

We made a big snowman, complete with a carrot nose and sticks for arms. Jake was a little wary at first, and he got in trouble for trampling the man, but soon enough

they were getting along.

Later, when were inside warming and cooking dinner in long johns, I looked out to see my neighbor snow blowing my drive. How nice is that? Thanks Daryll!