Building A Wall

I realize that the title of this post seems to refer to a notorious project that is being trumpeted about by a recent occupier of the White House (that will cost billions and accomplish nothing other than to make many people's lives worse than they already are...). But in this instance, the title refers to various barricades that Bob and I now live with as a matter of course. These demi-walls are set up to temporarily block a certain young dog access to rooms in our house.(Hi Robin!)

As we all fondly remember, Lil' Robin the Good refused to be confined when she was a mere pup. She scaled barriers of every description and height, perhaps employing magical powers, as she seemed to miraculously appear on the other side of whatever wall was erected. It was impressive. We finally relented, and gave her the run of the house and so far we have suffered no disastrous consequence, excepting Robin's consumption (with no ill effect) of several pairs of reading glasses, sun glasses and Bob's prescription glasses and a passel of pens.
However, when we're not present, we do restrict her access to a few rooms with these temporary barriers. Inexplicably, these pieces of plywood and fiberboard work where more serious blockades never did. And you may ask, why not just close the doors to these rooms? Because Lil' Robin doesn't like closed doors and will scratch and whine vigorously until the door is opened.

My studio, the bedroom and the "office" are all off limits as they are beyond impossible to secure from her idiosyncratic quest for things to chew. (I call it "shopping": she cases a room, checking out all nose-height surfaces.) Robin seems content to roam the rest of the house, and in general, we have been lucky that furniture has been spared. And Robin was a pretty quick study in the house training department; we really didn't experience many "accidents" of the liquids and solids variety.

And look! There's Lil' Robin now, with an entertaining assortment of her preferred chewables: empty seltzer bottles and plastic perennial pots, with the occasional foray into more traditional things like balls. And below? The Magic Robin! (Looks sort of like she's saying "Who me? I didn't eat that!")

Seige at the Tower

Look! There we are in the middle of that amazing crowd! It was easily the largest- and nicest!- crowd I have ever been in in my life. People were so energized and they focused their anger and outrage so peacefully and positively. It was a really hopeful and life changing event to be part of. (And this is only NYC!!! The world was here and there and everywhere!)
The train we rode into NYC was full of protesters and at every stop, women wearing pink knit Pussy Hats got on... and everyone clapped and cheered. At Grand Central, Bob and I (and our friend Joe) met up with good friends Bob and Susan and Sheldon and Louise and Roberta. I'm sure that being with close friends heightened the experience, but everyone in that crowd felt like good friends. It was truly incredible!
There were signs and chants and all the trappings that one would expect. But everyone seemed to be in the best of spirits. This many people organizing to Just Say NO to The Orange Menace. We stood and watched the March, which outside Grand Central was barely moving but so enthused. We attempted to make our way to the March start near the United Nations but gave up as there were so many people you couldn't get within blocks of it. So we jumped right in and were swallowed by the crowd. It was... amazing! And this comes from a woman (yours truly) who is not overly fond of crowds and tends to be claustrophobic!

(These pictures were taken from screen shots on our computer, after we got home.) It was so exhilarating (have I said that already in any of twenty different ways?) even if they didn't allow us right up to the door of Trump Tower. At the sort of end of the March, we were diverted left or right a block before the actual Trump Tower address; I guess security had to be tight, even if The Orange Menace wasn't in residence. We only passed two people who we took to be republicans, trying to scurry home to their rat-infested luxury hi rise. They were going the wrong way, against the March- a fitting metaphor. They're on the wrong side of history!
After the March, we walked up to the Met Breuer (the former Whitney Museum) and had a well-deserved cup of coffee. Bob and I were smart to only drink a teeny tiny cup of morning coffee (so as to not have to pee every three minutes with nary a porta-potty in sight!) but boy, was I craving my full quota of caffeine! Newly refreshed, we took in the Kerry James Marshall show. He is a truly wonderful and endlessly inventive painter. He pushes new life into very narrative pictures. A great show and a perfect way to end the day.
Estimates of the number of people on the streets of NYC were somewhere between 200,000 and 400,000. I can honestly say I know there were more people there than at that scary inauguration! We came home, feeling hopeful for the first time in months...

Catching Up With Maggie

I have been told by Maggie that I am ignoring her fan club and haven't posted about her in quite a while. Well, there she is, in all her resplendent glory outfitted in her new rain coat; quite fashionable- and functional!
I am not an inveterate blanketer of horses: their heavy winter coats offer plenty of protection and there are independent studies that show that their coats can stand up or lay flatter to provide insulation and warmth. But when it gets really cold (we had minus 2 last week) I bundle Maggie up in a heavy jacket that I've had for years (Crispin wore the same winter blanket) and I know Maggie appreciates the extra warmth.
And Maggie is a girl who likes to stand around outside when it sleets and snows. She gets all wet and if the temperature drops, I worry that she'll get sick. She's not a young horse and while I realize it's probably my projection of how I'd feel in the wet and cold, I purchased the above rain protection for her. I think she likes it.
(And I will amend that  the act of purchasing a horse rain sheet is not as simple as it sounds. There are many brands and styles (not to mention "novelty" colors and patterns, like peace signs and breast cancer awareness and zebra stripes and Burberry plaid: haute couture for the horse!) and you have to measure your beast carefully so that you achieve a proper fit. It was nerve wracking somewhat expensive (believe me: you can spend hundreds of dollars) and you want it to be just right. Does she look okay? Does it make her butt look big? If you see Maggie, just tell her it looks fabulous!)
I would also like to offer a wee rant about how this is not the easiest weather to care for our four-footed friends. The cold and dark at 6:00 or 7:00 am is atrocious but I feel the need to run out and feed Maggie as she's been standing around in the elements all by herself. She's got to be at least a little hungry and miserable! The food is the easy part.
The water is the worst! Dreadfully early in the morning, I schlepp two (heavy) plastic pails of water, filled at the kitchen sink. (No hose or outside faucet in the cold weather.) These buckets are to be emptied into the two buckets in Maggie's activity area. One is inside the stall, next to the hay rack; the other is outside, clipped onto the fence so that she can't knock it over. (She tries anyway...) Both of these outdoor buckets are frozen solid- I mean SOLID. I wrestle one free from the hook, drag it outside the fence and pound the ice with a metal fence post, reserved just for this occasion, and stamp on the side to further smash the ice. (The other day, Bob had to use a sledge hammer as it was so cold and so frozen I couldn't get the ice to budge.)

The other fun thing to throw into the mix is that Maggie likes to take a sip of water while consuming her hay. Many horses do this, but I can tell you that it makes a nasty, noxious green "soup" in her water bucket as the hay festers in the water along with a goodly dose of horsey saliva. Boy oh boy does it stink on a warm day! In the cold weather, the hay freezes into the ice like so much fiberglass reinforcement and makes getting the ice out of the bucket even harder. And you haven't lived until you chop a hole in the ice and the slushy, slurpy demi-ice sloshes back up out of the bucket and onto your pants or down you boot! Hooray for winter!

... And as Happy a New Year as is Possible Under the Circumstances

An interesting beginning to the New Year... I can say that Bob saved the day yesterday. I woke up at about 5:30 and I felt chilly. That's unusual for me as typically, I retain the heat from sleeping under the two hundred blankets with which Bob and I cloak the bed. (Over night, I almost always cast off sweat pants and socks as we sleep and when I stumble outside to let Robin eliminate I am enveloped in an invisible warm envelope.) In any event, it was only 60 upstairs- which is cold as the heat in our house reliably rises and the bedroom is often a good seven or eight degrees warmer than the kitchen. When I went downstairs, it was much colder and obvious that the furnace hadn't come on in a while.
I woke Bob up- such fun to be awoken on New Year's Day to a cold house. Bob tried the furnace and likewise, it didn't come on.... we made a fire in the wood stove.
The immediate tragedy of freezing to death warded off, Bob did some investigation with the furnace itself and found that the on/off switch had been tripped. (Probably be me as I brushed past the furnace in the utility room to flip on the outdoor flood lights at 3:00 am when Robin needed to pee...)

(Our little helper, rooting around for stray bits of dog food on the utility room floor.)
Anyway, Bob got the furnace working and we were happy for about a half an hour. Then Bob tells me that he went outside and checked the propane tanks and... they were all three empty! So he shut off the furnace (again) and we heated quite happily with the wood stove, planning on calling our propane supplier the next day.
The next day turned out to be a holiday (who knew?) and  we had to order on Tuesday. In the meantime, the weather continued warm so no big deal (although as an interesting aside, a good friend (Hello Sheldon!) had inquired about us heating with wood. I said, "Oh, with both Bob and I heating the studios with wood, we usually heat the house with propane. Running three wood stoves is a lot of work!" Little did I know.)
So on Tuesday, Bob orders propane and they came and filled the tanks and a general "hooray" arose from the denizens of The Bauhaus Chicken Coop as warmth would fill the land. The house was still warm from the continuing wood stove fire so it wasn't until early the next morning that we realized the blasted house was cold and the danged furnace wasn't firing and catching. It seemed to want to try, but something wasn't right.
Bob went on line and- intrepid guy that he is!- watched several videos about things that might cause the furnace to not start. He cleaned a widget and make a tweak here or there but still no luck.
Bob re-called the propane company and they dispatched a technician. The man arrived pretty quickly and looked at all the possible fittings and switches and I'm seeing dollar signs flash before my eyes as these guys aren't cheap. But he said the furnace looked in good shape and clean and went outside to test the hoses and line. There he discovered that the delivery man had SHUT OFF the gas coming into the house! He opened the valve and ta-da!! the furnace kicked right in. We aren't even being charged as the technician said that delivery guy must have mistaken our delivery to one that had a leak. So all's well that ends well and we're warm and happy. (The weather got cold right after this episode transpired...)

Yes, a shot of left over (from Lil' Robin's birthday party) balloons, now taken up residence in the downstairs shower stall.