When we moved from our house to the ill advised townhouse lifestyle we packed our worldly goods into boxes.. Many boxes were never unpacked but stored safely in the ample storage cellar. When we put the townhouse on the market, and the realtor wanted to “stage” the house, more of our worldly goods were returned to boxes. When we moved to the intermediary rental house many more of our treasures were packed into boxes.. and they were then all stored in my moms garage.. Over the last two years we have brought most of the boxes here or distributed the items to the kids.

We have been re-evaluatuing our art choices on the walls and it occurred to me that there are a couple of items missing. I cannot find my beautiful trifle bowl which I filled with decorative Christmas balls in December more often than trifle and the raku pottery plate we bought on our 5th wedding anniversary trip to California.

I checked the pictures from 2010 and there they are….. in the townhouse on the top shelf of the bookcase…  So I know they made it as far as the townhouse…. and that is the last I saw of them….. 

Coffee shop was perfect for me this morning.. not too many people and great conversation. As a bonus for a November Sunday, we were able to sit outside. With the extra hour from the switch to daylight savings time I was able to perform my least favorite chore before I went. Poop detail.

Back at the house in L one of the children was always assigned to the role of poo boy.. or girl as it may be. One child would depoopify the yard, one would cut the lawn and the other would help me deadhead perennials.. Everyone had a job to do… Poo boy was the least favorite byproduct (hahaha) of having two or three dogs….No one complained.. Everyone loved the dogs.

Everyone’s tolerance of poop is evident in their choice or lack of choice in pet. Those who cannot stand their stinky filth… keep their homes immaculate and daisy fresh chosing to have no pets at all. Those who like to keep their tolerance of a pets poop hidden under sand choose  a cat… Those of us who choose dogs as pets further exemplify our tolerance by the choice in dog size.. Obviously my friend with a great dane has a drastically different view of poop than my friend who chose a poodle primarily because of its dainty daily treats…

My tolerance level of ick increased after having children. In fact poop is one of the least icky things I had to deal with raising kids…

Certainly the tolerance of a dogs candy treat is also based on the size of property where the said pet resides.. Our large garden in L, gave our dogs plenty of space for their private business. Bacardi would do a walk about every evening for half an hour around the back of the property. She would return to the house with the relaxed face of middle-aged man as he returns from the executive washroom with his Globe and Mail.

We went from that quarter acre in L to the ridiculously minute green patch at the townhouse in White Rock.  Bacardi  was as unhappy on her shrunken walkabout as I was in the garden. The lawn was so small we had to hire a dog poop disposal company who came once a week to take a bucket of the scented treats away… Disposal isn’t the problem with 2.5 acres on an island it is the finding of the perfumed gems to begin with

which is hard

This slideshow requires JavaScript.