the rules of tuck in

I am writing a story about a man with rules for drinking when Courtney comes in and asks if I'll tuck her in. Actually she doesn't ask. She supposes I won't.

"I guess you won't be tucking me in tonight."

She says this because I am writing, and because a day or so ago I shared with her "my rules" for tuck-ins:

"If I'm going to bed within 20-minutes or so, I'd rather not tuck you in so as to use those last 20-minutes or so productively before I bed down."

However:

"If I'll be up for another hour or two, I'll tuck you in."

Tonight, my guestimated time of bedding down stretches close to an hour. Courtney calls me out on my rules. Then I say:

"Except when I'm writing."

And she roll her eyes.

Dogs in the Barnyard

We had Moe's 6th birthday party today. His birthday is Dec. 3, so he gets two parties in Moe10.

We scratched the first one because of weather. It was 15 degrees or so in Portland. The party's in a barn. No one wanted to stand around a barn in 15-degree weather. I don't blame them. I was one of them. I don't blame myself.

Satchel looks forward to his birthday all year. And his party. Maji too. We don't have a party for her, just Moe, so really this is Maji's party too, even though it isn't.

Is it weird for people to gather once a year in a barn to watch their dogs run around for two hours?

We've been doing the birthday since the first birthday. It's because two of Satchel's litter mates also live in Portland, and we've become friends with the owners of both. And Satchel's breeder lives in town, and we've become friends with her.

Is it strange that dogs who were born together from a local line of dogs bring people together?

What are bloodlines for but for keeping together.

Maji is not of this bloodline, but she snuck in.

Courtney and I and the rest of the people do not share a bloodline, except the youngest person in the barn today, Zander, 18-months, who shares a bloodline with his mother and father.

But the mother and father do not share a bloodline with us. It's their dog that shares a bloodline with our dog.

And another dog at the party.

And another, though she was in the car because she can't walk.

That's aunt Syd. Aunt Syd has been at these parties before. But her hips are gone and her body's aging faster than her mind.

Imagine your body aging faster than your mind.

Would it be worse than your mind aging faster than your body?

Is what we want to keep the body and the mind aging at the same pace, and hopefully slowly.

(As I typed the last few lines, Courtney rolled out the yoga mat and began stretching at the fire; Satcheled rolled around on the couch so his other hip was on the heating pad.

Hips are bad things to lose.

My hip is sore but not as sore as yesterday. Yesterday I stretched.

I'll stretch later. Sore this evening from running around the barnyard with my pack.