And that’s not all

3:00 – I let Crash out in the backyard.

3:10 – I let Crash back inside and leave with the lunatic puppy to pick up the kids.

3:15 – I manage to get the puppy out from under my car and pull out of the driveway.

4:05 – Child Two tells me she needs to be back at camp at 6:30 for a play peformance. Child Three and I have T-ball practice at that time.

4:30 – We get home. Crash, not to be outdone by any mere puppy, has let both barrels go in the upstairs hall.

5:00 – I arrange lifts for Child Two. I have to drop her off at 5:30.

5:10 – Time to go again.

Living in a urinal

Once upon a time, I offered to take care of a miniature poodle puppy for three weeks. That puppy is upon us. Here’s my day so far. It’s typical, at least for the house. Not so much for me, because Elvi’s out of town.

7:30 – Wake up and ask Child Two to take the puppy out of her crate (she sleeps in it) and take her outside so she can pee and poop.

7:30-8:00 – Make the kids’ breakfasts and lunches.

8:00 – Clean up fresh puppy feces from my office because the puppy prefers it as a toilet to the great outside.

8:30 – Take the two kids to their day camps. (Child One is at sleep-away camp.) Leash the puppy in our living room. She still eats things she shouldn’t, so we keep her restrained when no one’s home. Also, it lets Crash escape her attention, and may just prevent him from tearing her throat out. The puppy is the only thing on the planet he’s growled at more than once.

9:15 – Get back home and take the leash off the puppy.

10:30 – Take a shower while the puppy barks and whines outside my shower stall. She has a problem when there are no humans in sight.

11:15 – Take the puppy out to see if she will pee or poop. She does not. Leash the puppy in the living room and head out to a meeting that seems to have drummed up some business.

12:30 – Return home. Note that the puppy has peed all over the living room.

12:31 – Somehow restrain self from mopping up the pee with a recently throttled puppy.

12:35 – While cleaning up pee, discover that the puppy has pooped in the living room, too.

12:36 – Wonder if I have rage issues. The puppy senses that perhaps I do and runs away to hide.

12:50 – Finish cleaning the puppy bathroom living room.

12:51 – Using a second, non-peed-upon leash, take the puppy outside. All she does is lie down in the grass.

1:00 – Start a load of laundry that includes the peed-upon leash.

Five minutes after I post this – Back to some research, which demands I become intimately familiar with two American cities I’ve never visited. That’s not entirely true – I spent a few hours in the airport of one of them.

In which your author makes a difference

I received this e-mail yesterday from one of the graduate students I taught this summer:

Just wanted to let you know that I started an internship at (a classical-music magazine) last week, and they hit the roof when I told them that I knew Quark. They were really impressed to have a writer who also knew layout, and I’ve since become one of the main guys at the magazine. I want to say thanks for the painful, yet very useful Quark lesson, and sorry for busting your balls over making us learn it.

Before this last term, I strongly considered tossing desktop publishing and QuarkXpress from my syllabus in favour of some basic HTML/CSS or maybe more emphasis on number-crunching, spreadsheets, and databases. I’m glad it worked out for at least one student.

Bonus fantasy-baseball morass:

My hitting has yet to return from the All-Star break and I’m treading water in fourth place after losing my leads in the RBI and batting average categories. I won’t drop any further, but it’s starting to look like third place will be the best I can do.

.278 batting average (2nd)
171 HR (3rd)
658 RBI (3rd)
97 SB (4th)
4.01 ERA (3rd)
1.27 WHIP (2nd)
44 wins (10th)
21 saves (8th)