baron gets his think on

the baron and the husband like baron von dachshund best when he is silent, but they are always mindful that the quietude will not last.

here, bvd ponders the next bark.

baron gets his bark on

the baron and the husband are amazed and sometimes annoyed by baron von dachshund. baron von dachshund is the barkiest of barky dogs. the wind raises his ire, as do moving cars and cars that are parked. other things that make him bark: pedestrian traffic, canine traffic, the letter carrier, the neighbor's truck pulling into his driveway, the sound of the baron's chef's knife on a wooden cutting board, the alarm clock, and anytime he's asked to sit.

you are thinking, 'huh. baron von dachshund must bark a lot.'

yes, gentle reader. you are correct.

dandelions

today the baron wants to rhapsodize a little more about spring. she knows it's a tired subject, but the thing is that spring just doesn't happen often enough for her, what with it coming just once a year and all that. also, the baron currently lives in a place where it snows and is cold for a good part of the year. as a former (and, in her heart, always) californian, she is saddened by winter: the plants die, the ground freezes up, and the dogs need extra prodding to go outside and make their, ahem, business (well, tucker and dexter are fond of the cold, but the baron has witnessed the husband, at 5 am in his devil monkey pajamas, carrying one or both of the black dogs into the snow, putting him/them down, and saying 'go pee! i know you have to!').

anyway, it's spring in maryland, and the baron is happy. even the dandelions, thought by some to be weeds, delight her.

photo for t ewing.

chansonniers de montmartre

the baron loves these cups. she doesn't actually know what a chansonnier de montmontre is, but she loves them anyway.

the baron found two of these at a thrift store many years ago, perched among bric-a-brac as though waiting for her. she pulled them from the shelves, unable to comprehend that someone would discard these tiny cups. the husband found three more very recently, also at a thrift store, all in perfect condition. maybe they were waiting for him.

the baron is dreaming of collecting these cups, to replace the mismatched ones in her cabinets - the stolen ones, the bland ones, the holiday ones, the white ones, the bodum ones, even the sentimental ones. she will thrift shop and shop and shop, looking for these cups, until her house and her husband and all the dogs have been overrun with chansonniers.

ahem. the baron really likes these cups.

talkin' chive (ii)

so, those chive flowers?

they're blooming.

friends, far away

today the baron is thinking about her friends, the far away ones.

the picture above was taken in november 2006. it captures a brief moment, a pause between connecting flights. they are at the newark airport, sitting at the bar of a bar with a jazz theme. the baron and her friends didn't quite understand exactly how newark airport, jazz, and the bar's brooklyn-brewed beer all fit together, but the walls were a lovely blue color and they were glad to be back.

you're wondering who's in the photo? it's the husband, the baron, and likelauralee.

photo stylings by l lee

too many Rs

the husband left yesterday morning for kansas, for work.

the husband took this picture today, and the baron doesn't know quite how it ties into 'work', but it delights her just the same: it reminds her of her own baron (who is kind of an iron man himself).

photo by j. shea

the tropicals

this is the last plant picture the baron will post today, even though she'd like nothing more than to post pictures of TRIUMPHANT SPRING all the live long day.

these are two of the husbands favorite plants: a blue agave and a jade. he lovingly tends them in the warmer months, and in the cooler months they're moved into the basement and kept under grow lights. (the husband is kind of in denial that he and the baron no longer live in arizona.) they were pulled out from their winter haven this past weekend to join their hardier siblings in the garden.

talkin' chive

this one's not a cheat! the baron and the husband planted these chives last spring, and they made it through the winter. this plant was among the first things to sprout green when the weather turned warm, and was among the first things snipped for use in the kitchen. these flowers are just about to bloom, and when they they do they'll be snipped for good eats too.

in bloom

it's kind of a cheat, because when the baron bought these pansies they were already blooming, but she'll take the color anyway. aren't they pretty?

little things

the baron has been feeling rather down on humanity lately, but something happened recently to lift her spirits. it's a little bit of a story, but bear with her.

thursday of last week, the baron was wrapping things up at her desk and almost ready to go when a student came through the door and said, 'do you have a ruler i can borrow? we're doing a group project in class and we need a ruler.' the student, filipe, looked as young men in the 18-22 age group often do: pants too low, t-shirt with some crafty phrase emblazoned across the chest, thick silver chain hanging against his impossibly thin chest, and lots and lots of gel in his hair. the baron wanted to say no, but filipe seemed nice enough, so instead she said, 'tell me your name and the instructor's name, and tell me when i can expect my ruler back.' she tried to smile as she interrogated him, to seem friendly, even as she collected this informational insurance. filipe told her his name, the instructor's name, promised to bring the ruler back friday, and spirited it away with a hasty 'thank you' over his shoulder.

the baron finished up at her desk, went home to the husband and four dogs, cooked a hurried dinner and forgot all about the ruler. friday came and went, and the ruler didn't reappear. when the baron finally remembered spiky-haired filipe and the ruler of no-return, it was sunday afternoon: it was a fleeting thought, and (being to lazy to track down filipe, and having forgotten the instructor's name anyway) she supposed the ruler was lost to her. then she got back to the laundry.

so. can you tell where this story is going? this afternoon, around lunchtime, filipe returned to the baron's desk, bearing the ruler, and said, 'i have something to give you. i'm sorry i couldn't get it to you friday. i didn't come to campus that day.' the baron, her delight poorly concealed behind a wide, wide grin, said, 'hey! thanks!' and wished 'good afternoon' to his retreating back.

the baron would never have guessed that her spirits could rise and fall with the impulses of an undergraduate student (indeed, looking at filipe's shoulders, one wouldn't believe them capable of carrying anything so heavy as the baron's faith in humanity). coming off this high, though, the baron is kind of feeling like she should get some perspective: wasn't it only ever a ruler? wasn't it?

enemy mine

today the baron is thinking about the drum kit in her basement. about how there is nothing easier than to pick up a pair of drumsticks and bang the hell out of the snare drum, and about how there are few things harder than banging that snare drum in perfect 4/4 time. and harder still is banging the snare drum in 4/4 time while incorporating the high-hat (on the 1 and 3 counts) and the bass drum (on the 2 and 4 counts). harder even than those things (which are very hard indeed, having three of four limbs moving independently of each other) is trying to think up those things the husband calls 'fills', which are (the baron supposes) variations within the beat to make the beat more interesting. the fills should always be done while keeping time otherwise you RUIN THE SONG. see how hard? and the worst thing about it is that after all that effort and sweat, the baron is forced to admit that she didn't even dream up very imaginative or original beats. sigh.

you've become very tired reading this post with all its talk of times and fills and snares.

the baron would otherwise have become very tired with the effort of recollecting and describing these things, but burned into her brain is the image of her patient husband clapping his hands in 4/4 time so that she can keep up.

tucker, to make you smile

a friend of the baron's recently sent her a disturbing email about a Costa Rican "artist" who used (or misused, as it were) a street dog in an art installation last year. for the baron, the concept of the installation was ridiculous, its execution, disgusting. the baron couldn't sleep for two nights after reading the email. instead, on those sleepless nights, she stared into the dark bedroom and listened to two of her four dogs snoring, imagining the day when all humanity is gone from the earth due to egregious mismanagement of the planet and its resources. when that day comes, the baron hopes that the animals will rise up and take what they're owed.

anyway, also to take the edge off, here's tucker, from a few nights ago.

words set to melody (part ii)

also, 'handle with care' by the traveling wilburys. another good one for sing-alongs.

the day after

yesterday the baron was feeling quite satisfied about having returned to the gym and tackled 3 miles (3 whole miles!!!).

today, after 2 more miles and some weights to boot, the baron is nursing both sore abdominal muscles and a bruised ego - really, how did her triceps get to that state?

so. today's word?

perseverance.

words set to melody

the baron thinks that listening to words set to music is one of the best and most enlightening things ever. she knows this isn't newsworthy, per se, but sometimes she is forcibly reminded. to wit: 'common people' by pulp is good, and biting, and sexy, and kind of a dance song by the end of it. mid-song, when jarvis disdainfully sniffs to punctuate a line of lyric, it's just delicious. the baron recommends listening to this song in the car, with the windows down, while singing loudly.

triumph!

it's the return of the smelly shoes and sweaty socks!

today, the baron is triumphant, having gone to the gym at a criminally early hour this morning. the baron is pleased to report that she completed a 5k (or just over 3 mile) course in around 48 minutes, walking at a pace of about 4 miles per hour. though there was much huffing and puffing and paranoia about the way her ass looked in the stretchy running pants, the baron is very, very pleased to have made it to the gym at all.

but will he wear a funny hat?

so, the pope's coming today.

yippee?

baron von dachshund

this is baron von dachshund. we call him baron, and sometimes 'rabble rabble' (because that's the noise he makes when he wants something), and also 'the bean' (because when he's sleeping he looks kidney bean-shaped to us). we found him at the prince george's county pound. he was an overweight, subdued, elderly dog abandoned by the family of his owner, who had recently died. once we got him home, baron took about a week to shed his meek manner. since then, he's turned out to be the most irascible and vocal of our dogs.

worth noting: we're now outnumbered two to one, dogs to humans. if they ever wanted to strike or have an uprising, the husband and i would be in trouble.

tucker

this is tucker. he's a sweet, sweet boy who is always happy to throw you a smile or to offer the good 'thumpthumpthump' of his tail. when we went to pick up harlan from the maricopa county pound, we decided to adopt another dog that same day. we picked tucker because he seemed sad and we wanted an older dog; the brief description attached to his cage claimed he was 6 years old. we couldn't adopt him until the next day because he had to stay overnight to have, ahem, surgery. when we finally got him home, we gave him the once over and discovered that he was covered in shit (his own) and that he had perfect, clean teeth. our vet confirmed, he was probably under one year old.

young harlan pepper

this is young harlan pepper, our dapper dog who prefers to be called yhp or, simply, harlan. he was brought to our house in phoenix by a group of neighborhood kids who couldn't find his owners; despite posting fliers all over the neighborhood, neither could we. we took him to the pound, where he stayed for a week; this was to give his family a chance to collect him and to give us the opportunity to legally claim him ours. having pre-adopted him when we dropped him off, we picked him up on the seventh day and our family of three became four.

harlan's favorite things are sun patches and a soft places to lay down. also, he sometimes does this thing where he sits down and crosses his back legs through his front legs. the combination of his crossed legs and his speckled chest make him look quite the gentleman.

dexter

this is dexter, our girl dog named for my brother's wayward boy cat. she's the leader of our pack of dogs, the queen of her brothers. she came from the san francisco county shelter, relinquished by a family from the peninsula. the boyfriend (now the husband) and i went to the shelter to see about getting a dog; dexter came to the front of her cage and pushed her nose through to us. when we met with her in one of the visitation rooms, she bounded through the door and onto my lap, where she peed a little. we were marked, and she came home with us that day.

she's too smart; often we can see the wheels turning, even if the gears are only working toward, "food?".

sibling's day

today is national sibling's day. as the baron has no photographs of her own sibling, these siblings will have to do.

left to right: harlan, baron, tucker and dexter

black wednesday

tucker killed another squirrel today, his second.

sorry, squirrel.

cherry blossoms

america looks pretty good from here, huh?

photo stylings by k tomko.

the fat one, a poem

blonde and wide,
she cuts a striking figure.

though no longer young,
and never beautiful,
she is recently married.

will children follow?
we wonder at the coffee pot.

blonde and wide,
she cuts a striking figure.

guardians of the garden

the duck says quack.

the first batch

this is beer from the husband's first home brew batch... it's a porter. since this photo, he's brewed and bottled a framboise and a Belgian. and yesterday, he brewed an India pale ale.

the baron, not being a fan of beer herself , is unable to appreciate the finer flavors of these home brews, but she's glad that husband's happy just the same.

coffee

the baron says once upon a time coffee was a morning necessity: dark and sludgy, with a shot of soy creamer and two sugars was her favorite breakfast meal. she misses those days.

also, it was just noted that the baron has an 'irritable temperment'. have truer words been spoken?

sour grapes

the baron says grapes are best off the vine, not in jellies or jams.

but, if the grapes have been jellied or jammed, it's always best to share.

gluttony

today, the baron is wondering, is there anything more discouraging than a large plate of brownie crumbs?

(perhaps the realization that the disappearance of said brownies can be blamed on the baron?)

but, is there anything better than a full glass of wine?

(congratulations to steve and miriam.)

breakfast

this photograph was taken almost two years ago.

the baron wishes she were there.

don't you?

the first one

today, the baron wonders why drum beats are so hard to master, especially the part about both hands and both feet working at the same time. the complexity of the drum kit has led the baron to believe that drum machines (as has been widely advertised on bumper stickers far and wide) have no soul.

also, the baron is pleased for the arrival of spring.