Merry Christmas!!!!

Merry Christmas from Kelly, Simon and Merwin's head.

1 Merwin 'Til Christmas

Patiently waiting for Santa. 

2 Merwins 'Til Christmas

First ever picture of Merwin, the day we adopted him.  Too bad I stopped taking pictures of him after this...

3 Merwins 'Til Christmas

The photo is not upside down.  The dog is.

4 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Snow dog

5 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Merwin, the back of the car, on-the-go, sleeping donut.

6 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Merwin and the sea.

7 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Freckly Nose

8 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Merwin and Friends.  It's like a band.  Or something.

9 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Quite possibly my favorite Merwin photo of all time. 

10 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Favorite sleeping pose.  It's even better when he snores.

11 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Merwin vs. Frosty.  Could go either way.  Especially if Santa gets involved.

12 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Aerial view and what Merwin might look like if he were rug (eeek). The back legs crack me up. 

13 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Really?  That's where you want to be?

14 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Although they get along splendidly, Merwin and my Dad didn't start off on a great foot.  But the treats won out in the end and here is how it usually goes down when they are together.

15 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Yes, clearly this is the most comfortable place in the house. 

16 Merwins 'Til Christmas

We (okay, just me) buy Merwin a ton of crazy stuffed toys--squirrel, donkey, multi-colored snake with 5 squeakers, hedgehog, monkey, octopus, weird alien, cow, etc-- but his favorite toy is the tennis ball.  My mom is a tennis player and brought a bunch of dead balls on her last visit.  She dumped them all out on the floor and Merwin went ballistic (pun intended).  It was funny to see him try to decide which one to chase.

17 Merwins 'Til Christmas

He enjoyed burrowing in the snow when we were up at my parents' house last winter.  My brother thought it would be good to photograph the "other side of the story."

18 Merwins 'Til Christmas

 

This is what he does when he doesn't want to go inside.  He "hides."

19 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Merwin, The Boss.

20 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Simon emailed me this one when I was at my desk in the office. I absolutely lost it with the giggles.  Apparently, his ball got stuck in the cone.  He sniffed around for awhile, attempting to get at it from lots of different angles.  Eventually, he figured out this was the only way.  Cone-head!

21 Merwins 'Til Christmas

Waiting for one of us to come home or pondering his reflection in the window?  My guess is there is a squirrel in his sights.

22 Merwins 'Til Christmas

This occurred on our morning walk.  I'm not sure which is more amazing--Merwin getting air or me being able to capture it on my iphone.

23 Merwins 'Til Christmas

As it finally gets a little chillier, it is nice to be reminded of summer days. Our wonderful dog walker took Merwin on a trip to Cape Cod.  I like this action shot of his jowls.  HA!

24 Days of Merwin

The days leading up to Christmas were always a big deal growing up...church services included lighting the advent candles and at home, we had a special calendar that has been part of the family for quite some time.  It was a large rectangle of red felt that hung on the wall.  The top had a huge green felt Christmas tree on it and the bottom had 24 tiny pockets closed with safety pins.  Beginning December 1, one of the three kids got to unpin a pocket, take out the enclosed little ornament and select a spot for it on the tree.  Naturally, we all wanted to be the one to open December 24th's pocket--this always contained the little angel for the top.  It was a really great tradition.

Now I am starting my own, much lamer version of the red felt calendar--24 days of Merwin.  Because that is so different than all the other posts of this blog entitled "Merwin and Merwin."  No, but for real, every day this month, I will post a "countdown" photo of the dog.  "Do you have 24 photos of your dog?" you may ask.  Why yes, I have hundreds of pictures of this dog because I am a crazy person.

So to kick us off, here is the photo for December 1!

Tree dog

Time Gone By

Never Mind

Denver Butson

      that guests no longer come unannounced
      or that the photo album contains pictures
of much younger people than we remember being

     never mind that swallows etch Sanskrit
              on the wrinkled sky

                 it's November
     and the present is emptying its wine
                into our glasses

     never mind that we're not touching now

because our shadows are holding hands
         in the dark behind our backs


Every now and then I meet a poem that I really, really like.  When this happens, I can rarely explain my affection coherently.  Usually, these are by Merwin so coming across Never Mind was a real treat.  Each stanza contains such a strong central image that, combined with the others, do a fantastic job of illustrating the speaker's attitude toward aging and the passing of time.  On their own, the photo album pictures, swallows across the wrinkled sky, wine emptying into glasses, and shadows holding hands are subtle suggestions but together, they hammer it home for me.

I also really admire short poetry.  In so few words, inevitably so carefully chosen and crafted, the poet does an amazing job of getting us there.  Wherever "there" may be.  

Deck the Halls

We decked windows last weekend and we decked our own halls this weekend.  I am slightly obsessed with Christmas.  I love it.  A few nameless individuals have likened me to the Crazy Target Lady from their recent holiday ad campaign.  Here's a sample so you can judge for yourself.  In the meantime, here's a taste of my madness.

Tree, dog nose and husband legs

Mistletoe...tee hee

Dog heads on human bodies crack me up

November Rain

It has been raining here since midnight with a pervasive damp chill on the commute to work.  I know it's not up to me, but I would much prefer November snow.  When the days are cold and dark and the trees are bare, the rain makes me chilled through and through.  At least with snow it’s pretty! 

November Rain

Linda Pasten

How separate we are

under our black umbrellas--dark

planets in our own small orbits,

hiding from this wet assault

of weather as if water

would violate the skin,

as if these raised silk canopies

could protect us

from whatever is coming next--

December with its white

enamel surfaces; the numbing

silences of winter.

From above we must look

like a family of bats--

ribbed wings spread

against the rain,

swooping towards any

makeshift shelter.

As I was retyping this, I realized that there is a lot more going on than humans under umbrellas.  Lots of violent language--"dark," "assault," "violate," "protect," "shelter"--suggestive of an attack or conflict.  It's strange how poems can be read and seen as one thing then reread and interpreted as something completely different.  No two readers probably share the same experience with a poem just as no two humans share the same experience with anything.  That said, I liked it more when it was just a nicely described observation of people hustling about in the miserable weather.

Deck the Windows

Since Simon and I have been together, one of my favorite holiday traditions has been decorating the windows at the family business, an old time Rhode Island pharmacy (complete with soda fountain and delicious coffee cabinets...aka milkshakes for you non-New Englanders).  We took the short drive there over the weekend and here are the fruits of our labor.  I may or may not have broken the non-Christmas-music-before-Thanksgiving rule.

Friday Rants*

Experiencing Boston Wrath When Riding the T
In Boston, an announcement informs riders when the next subway is either "approaching" or "arriving" in the station.  There is a series of escalators to navigate as one descends to the platform, so when the "approaching" announcement is made, people tend to pick it up a notch.  But when the "arriving" announcement happens, steer clear, because you will more than likely be mowed down by lunatics who will literally sprint down escalators and through turnstiles to get the train.  Today, I was walking down the steps onto the platform when I heard an "excuse me" and shifted to the side.  A woman lugging a suitcase scurried past me, ran down the stairs bumping her bag behind her, and nearly decapitated herself trying to board the subway as the doors were closing.  She didn't make it, and as she tried to pull herself together, she glanced over her shoulder and shot me a look of death.  I guess being unwilling to participate in the "catch the train olympics" has the potential to attract the wrath of Bostonians.  Noted.

Overhearing Cell Phone Conversations in Bathroom Stalls While You Are in Another Bathroom Stall
Seriously?  This has happened to me at least twice.  Once, it seemed to be a seriously legit, business-related conversation. 

Fake Ketchup
If it isn't Heinz, it really isn't ketchup. 

*Pardon the attitude.  This week has consisted of folding 3,300 letters, stuffing them into 3,300 envelopes, glue sticking 3,300 adhesive strips, and applying 3,300 postage stamps to the envelopes.  Enough said.

One for the Dogs

I think he has a secret...

   Dogs
   Aaron Kramer

   Looking foolish next to the tree in a one o'clock rain:
   umbrella aloft, the leash in my other hand—
   I wanted my late-coming neighbor to understand
   that dogs are worth the expense, inconvenience, and pain;

   their tails are truthful, no coiled rebellion beneath
   a loving look; they are quick to kiss you, and quick
   to fetch for you, and —should you raise a stick
   threateningly—they are quick to show their teeth;

   and better still (but this I never revealed),
   when you bring downfall home, the death of a hope,
   their nonchalant manner does more for you than a drink;
   and best of all, when triumph's to be unsealed,
   such lack of respect they show for the envelope,
  —your fingers halt, the brain cools, and you think.

A Look See

On the way to work I realized that every day on my trip to the office, I don't really look at anything.  I see the brick sidewalk, storefronts, the guy filling my mug at the coffee shop, others who are hustling to work like me, but I don't really look.  Today I glanced up and there was the the day.  Its palette was golden--bursts of oranges and reds in trees contrasted against a classic fall blue sky.  The sun was bright, but almost leaned like a late summer afternoon gently tinging everything in warm yellow.  I liked it and thought to myself, "Wow, I should look at this more often."  After all, the apocalypse is on its way.  More probable is the idea that winter is approaching and looking around will freeze my eyeballs.  Either way, any way, we need to enjoy it while we can.

Turning
W.S. Merwin

Going too fast for myself I missed
more than I think I can remember

almost everything it seems sometimes
and yet there are chances that come back

that I did not notice where they stood
where I could have reached out and touched them

this morning the black shepherd dog
still young looking up and saying

Are you ready this time?

Red Potpourri

I never gave Simon a shout out for his St. Louis Cardinals amazing win of the World Series.  Yay, birdies on bats!  Pretty unexpected and although it led to many evenings of baseball watching instead of Development Economics studying, I think he would agree that it was worth it.






It is quickly becoming the time of year of the careful balance between being soooooooo excited for the holidays and trying to quell the desire to crank up the Mariah Carey Christmas album and decorate the house with all of my red and green tschotskes.  Must. Wait. Until. After. Thanksgiving.  In the meantime I'm expressing my love for all things December on my Holiday Delektables (puns are wonderful) board on pinterest.

And to truly make this post a random assortment of relatively useless factoids, how cute do you think Merwin would look in this?  I know, I know, not until after Thanksgiving.

Mystery of the Ginkgo

My parents have a beautiful ginkgo tree outside their back door, and growing up, it was always sort of a contest to predict when its leaves would fall.  If you aren't familiar with gingkos, they truly do experience a leaf exodus as Nemerov describes in his poem below.  One day, every leaf is clinging to its branch, and the next, nearly all have hit the dirt.

"The Consent" so beautifully describes that process but also makes us wonder how swift and complete it could be for humanity.  Could it?

The Consent

Howard Nemerov

Late in November, on a single night
Not even near to freezing, the ginkgo trees
That stand along the walk drop all their leaves
In one consent, and neither to rain nor to wind
But as though to time alone: the golden and green
Leaves litter the lawn today, that yesterday
Had spread aloft their fluttering fans of light.

What signal from the stars? What senses took it in?
What in those wooden motives so decided
To strike their leaves, to down their leaves,
Rebellion or surrender?  And if this
Can happen thus, what race shall be exempt?
What use to learn the lessons taught by time.
If a star at any time may tell us: Now.

I Love Dogs

Double the fun---so happy!!

Yes, I'm obsessed with my own, but I also really believe that dogs (and pets in general) can do some seriously amazing things.  I don't mean jump through flaming hoops or learn a choreographed dance routine wearing a spangled jacket (this has happened) but I mean unify humans, ease pain, and enrich lives in ways that really make a difference. 

Walking down the street with Merwin brings more random smiles and "awwws" that I can recollect.  After a long day, seeing his nose squishing under the door in anticipation of my arrival alters my mood no matter what transpired at work.

Dogs are capable of bringing real happiness where maybe there is none.  They drive people to care and to smile a little, if even for just a minute.

Not Quite November...

The leaves are only starting to fall, but with a chilly breeze outside, I'm in the mood for this one.

November Night
Adelaide Crapsey

Listen...
With faint dry sound
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.

Dogpig? Pigdog?

I see the resemblance

I was away "on business" Tuesday night through late last night and when I returned home, Merwin went crazy.  He ran laps around our apartment squealing like a pig for at least 10 minutes nonstop.  It was like he was so excited he couldn't stay still long enough for me to even pet him.  And the noise was ridiculous.  It was nice to see some real enthusiasm for my return--Simon certainly didn't squeal.

Opening Day for the Rangers!

After an agonizing summer of hockeyless nights, the day is finally here.  The Rangers open their season today versus the L.A. Kings in an early season game to take place in Stockholm, Sweden.  Don't ask me why they start there, but their international opener brings back some memories.  Three years ago, they began their season in Prague on our wedding day.  They won, which is good, because if they lost I'm not sure I could've gone through with it.  I kid, but three cheers for some hockey!  Oh yeah, and some baseball...go Cardinals!

Wedding day prep

Poetry Who?

I call myself a poetry lover, but despite that, I was unaware that today was National Poetry Day until a friend clued me in.  How pathetic of me!  Thank goodness she saved the day.  I do have to poke fun of her a bit, because according to my 1.3 minutes of google research, it is only National Poetry Day in the UK.  Regardless, any excuse to celebrate poetry works for me.

It's hard to come across any of his poems that I don't like, but this Merwin poem stands out. 


When You Go Away
W.S. Merwin

When you go away the wind clicks around to the north
The painters work all day but at sundown the paint falls
Showing the black walls
The clock goes back to striking the same hour
That has no place in the years

And at night wrapped in the bed of ashes
In one breath I wake
It is the time when the beards of the dead get their growth
I remember that I am falling
That I am the reason
And that my words are the garment of what I shall never be
Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy


The images of painters working only to have the paint slip from the walls and the clock striking the same timeless hour seem to be the perfect way to demonstrate a feeling of loss that is never ending.  Loss that has no place in time and that time doesn't heal.  And the final image is haunting and perfect.  He does it again.

A Revival of Sorts

Pablo Neruda originally composed this poem in Spanish, his native language, and I'm sure much is lost in translation, but the last two stanzas are pretty remarkable, even in their English version.  I would try to provide some interpretation, but I think the poem explains itself (aside from the salt-rose, topaz and carnation arrows of fire...I'm a bit lost there).  But for today, of all days, I will savor it.

Love Sonnet XVII 

Pablo Neruda

(Source of Translation Unknown)

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz

or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:

I love you as certain dark things are loved,

secretly, between the shadows and the souls.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries

hidden within itself the light of those flowers,

and thanks to your love, darkly in my body

lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you simply, without problems or pride:

I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

But this, in which there is no I or you,

so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,

so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Monday Interlude

Take a break and take a look...

Weekend Guests

Merwin was in seventh heaven yesterday.  Simon's mom stopped by on her way back from a week long trip and we watched our friends' Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Jethro.  Double whammy!  Of all the dogs Merwin has interacted with, Jet seems to be his favorite.  Unlike the others, Jet isn't interested, which is funny since Merwin is usually running from dogs trying to play with him.  Funny to see such a role reversal!

Cute little Jet

Merwin stalks him

Kiss?

Awwww

The Most Dreaded Holiday

I've never loved Halloween.  Actually I kind of despise Halloween.  I definitely enjoyed it as a kid, but as an adult I find it to be way too much pressure.  In the past, I've been able to avoid it altogether, but the organization I work for hosts an annual Halloween Dance Party so last year, I was faced with finding a costume and in 30 days I will have to do it all again.  I'm actually quite proud of what Simon and I came up with for last year-- a mouse and an exterminator.   I tend to prefer funny costumes but with board members and donors attending the party, I have to at least pretend to be classy.

Any ideas???

Nail on the Head?

To Waiting
W.S. Merwin

You spend so much of your time
expecting to become
someone else
always someone
who will be different
someone to whom a moment
whatever moment it may be
at last has come
and who has been
met and transformed
into no longer being you
and so has forgotten you

meanwhile in your life
you hardly notice
the world around you
lights changing
sirens dying along the buildings
your eyes intent
on a sight you do not see yet
not yet there
as long as you
are only yourself

with whom as you
recall you were
never happy
to be left alone for long

Happy Birthday Merwin (the dog)!

It's not really his birthday, but we don't know the actual day he was born, so instead we will celebrate the day Merwin became a Delekta. Enjoy being spoiled today, dog, because it won't last forever.  Oh wait, it will.

Oh, dogs can't read and are colorblind?

Birthday cake and a stuffed alien-looking thing.

Cake was a big hit. 

Who's happier?