Sharon had to go to her basketry workshop over in Bellevue, and I waited till the last minute to decide whether or not I would take her, or just stay at home without a car.; I finally decided to take her, and we drove over there around the north end of Lake Washington, through Kenmore and Bothell, and onto I-405, following the directions provided by the workshop organizers. The workshop was on making baskets with antlers.
Maki and I went to the park after we dropped Sharon off. It was that Idlewild Park, down by Lake Sammamish, and we wondered around down there for a while. It was pretty cold and windy, and it looked like it might rain any minute. We saw this guy with a dog on a very long leash, and I was going to walk the other way, but Maki wanted to see the other dog, so she went over towards it and I followed her over there. The guy says in a too loud voice, sort of abruptly, "What's your dog's name?" And I said "Maki" and he's looking at his dog, and says something about, "...seems friendly" and it was hard to tell if he was talking to himself, his dog, or me. But he seemed kind of like it might have been a comment about me or Maki, and which was it, I thought, but to myself I'm thinking, "What a jerk, leave me alone", and we walk off,. and I'm thinking well see, Rob, you're not very friendly to people, and I think, well yeah but I'm just cautious there's a lot of jerks out there, and then I think yeah, but that's what isolates you all the time, isn't it, and I think, well maybe, but I never can tell when to be standoffish, and when... to draw the line, it's either completely friendly or completely removed with me, one or the other. That ain't good, is it? I thought. Aw hell, who knows.
So Maki and I just walked on down by the lake, and took a look at a guy water-skiing in a wet suit, riding some kind of ski with a seat on it, and bouncing up and down. It looked like he had a pogo stick seat or something. Maki, meanwhile, wanted to go for a swim, but I didn't want to let her get completely wet this time. I was thinking about what to do with this day where I found myself (once again) alone with my dog, but this time out and about, what should I do where should I go, and I thought about driving up to Mt. Vernon to see Chic, and I thought about just taking a drive, and I thought about lots of things.
So Mak and I wandered around some more, and we saw some people on the dock who had apparently just finished water-skiing. There where three of them getting out of a boat, and a fourth guy in the boat was going to take off, it seemed, and leave them there on the dock. On the dock, there was this great big guy, and this little woman, seemed to be Asian, and this other guy who seemed about average size. They all had wet suits (or maybe they were dry suits) on. I watched them out of the corner of my eye while Maki explored the sandy beach.
I walked past the dock, and on along the curved beach and up around a few trees on the beach to a little ten foot wide clearing of some more beach right at the edge of the park. We stood there for a few minutes, and Maki wanted to go into the water again, so I let her go out a little farther this time. She look so silly out there, and I appreciated her silliness, and that made me think of Sharon, and the way she taught me by example to appreciate little dogsters' silliness, and how she taught me how to talk to dogs, and all that. I finally called her, and we walked up the path up the hill.
There was a King County Park ranger in a white pickup truck with the King county logo on the door coming slowly up the hill, and I reined Maki in to get out of the way, and glanced at the driver, a woman park ranger, who smiled at me and nodded as she drove by. We walked on up the hill, and then wandered off the road into a grove of big trees, some nice Douglas firs and other evergreens. They formed a pleasant grove. Apparently some landowner had died and decided to give this little strip of beachfront property to the county. There was a little tiny brick building nearby that looked like it might have been one of the outbuildings to some old farm house, maybe a pump house years ago. Who used to live here? What kind of old house used to be here? We walked through the grove to the edge of the little creak that knifes through the middle of the park, cutting down into the topsoil about ten feet, making a mini canyon, with fast growing, water loving trees growing sideways out of the muddy sides of the canyon. Maybe they are cottonwoods or willows. Maki likes to stand at the edge of the canyon and look down, and I noticed how she approached carefully, slight crouching down as she came close to the precipice, and how you really don't have to worry about her falling off, although it's a natural reaction to want to pull her back.
We continued to walk down the side off the mini-canyon, and as we got back down closer to the lake, it got shallower, and there were a few places where Maki could easily climb down, which she soon did. She tramped up and down in the water of the shallow stream, looking silly and absorbed and self-confident, and as though she wouldn't rather be anyplace else. I saw a couple with a cute little mutt dog. The woman had pretty long blond hair, and seemed very sweet and gentle. I didn't pay much attention to the guy. She was looking at Maki, and I shyly looked back out of the corner of my eye at her. A called Maki, and we went on down the side of the creek, and back to the shore of the lake. Down near the shore, the creek emerged from the canyon and meandered for a few feet, splitting into two streams and running into the lake. You could imagine it being a mighty river running into the ocean. Maki began to tramp in the shallow water going upstream. As we walked back upstream, I noticed a minnow in the water below scramble away as Maki splashed. Maki's leash is on a reel, and it spooled out more and more as the canyon got deeper, Maki splashing along the whole time. At one point there was a small tree in the way along the path, and I had to lean against it and pass the reel from one hand to the other so that I could follow Maki on up the creek. Finally we were getting to the deeper part where she wouldn't be able to climb the side of the canyon, so I said "OK, Mak," and she obligingly scampered up the almost vertical side and looked up at me briefly, proud of herself.
I wanted to go back down towards the lake again, and cross the little bridge across the creek down towards the lake, so we went down that way, and as we did I noticed another strolling couple, this one seemed to be an Indian couple, with the lady wearing a sari that covered her head and draped down over her shoulders and down her back. They passed over the bridge and walked on down by the restrooms. Maki and I crossed the bridge, which it seems used to be for cars, but they had narrowed the passageway on top by installing narrow railings only wide enough for foot traffic. We walked on across the bridge and up the pathway. On this side of the creek there was a wide expanse of grass with only a single old apple tree to break the gentle slope up the hill that leads back to the parking lot. A guy came down the path by himself, no dog. Most of the people I had seen so far had dogs, except for the Indian couple. I looked him in the eye as he passed and said "Hi," he responded in kind. He looked like a thirty-ish guy, just your average guy. I force myself to be friendly sometimes, and reflexively act cool at other times. What a weirdo.
We walked on up the path to the car, as I considered my options for the rest of the day. It was only about nine thirty, and Sharon didn’t need to be picked up until seven p.m. We got back to the car, and I opened the hatch in back, and told Maki to get in. I took one of the "doggy towels" we have there for the purpose, and began to methodically rub her down, her feet, her belly, her chest. Her long hair was wet and had lots of sand. As usual, it dried off pretty well, and lots of the sand came off with the rub down. I said "get in" and she hopped over the back of the back seat and into the main part of the car. I closed the hatch, and left my key out to open the drivers' side door. I opened it and got in. Maki sat in the passenger side, and I grabbed the Washington state atlas from its place in the little holder that Sharon found that hangs on the back of the passenger seat with Maki's water, plastic bags for picking up poop, and other conveniences. I decided to drive out east into the country, by Carnation and Duvall.
Maki and I went to the park after we dropped Sharon off. It was that Idlewild Park, down by Lake Sammamish, and we wondered around down there for a while. It was pretty cold and windy, and it looked like it might rain any minute. We saw this guy with a dog on a very long leash, and I was going to walk the other way, but Maki wanted to see the other dog, so she went over towards it and I followed her over there. The guy says in a too loud voice, sort of abruptly, "What's your dog's name?" And I said "Maki" and he's looking at his dog, and says something about, "...seems friendly" and it was hard to tell if he was talking to himself, his dog, or me. But he seemed kind of like it might have been a comment about me or Maki, and which was it, I thought, but to myself I'm thinking, "What a jerk, leave me alone", and we walk off,. and I'm thinking well see, Rob, you're not very friendly to people, and I think, well yeah but I'm just cautious there's a lot of jerks out there, and then I think yeah, but that's what isolates you all the time, isn't it, and I think, well maybe, but I never can tell when to be standoffish, and when... to draw the line, it's either completely friendly or completely removed with me, one or the other. That ain't good, is it? I thought. Aw hell, who knows.
So Maki and I just walked on down by the lake, and took a look at a guy water-skiing in a wet suit, riding some kind of ski with a seat on it, and bouncing up and down. It looked like he had a pogo stick seat or something. Maki, meanwhile, wanted to go for a swim, but I didn't want to let her get completely wet this time. I was thinking about what to do with this day where I found myself (once again) alone with my dog, but this time out and about, what should I do where should I go, and I thought about driving up to Mt. Vernon to see Chic, and I thought about just taking a drive, and I thought about lots of things.
So Mak and I wandered around some more, and we saw some people on the dock who had apparently just finished water-skiing. There where three of them getting out of a boat, and a fourth guy in the boat was going to take off, it seemed, and leave them there on the dock. On the dock, there was this great big guy, and this little woman, seemed to be Asian, and this other guy who seemed about average size. They all had wet suits (or maybe they were dry suits) on. I watched them out of the corner of my eye while Maki explored the sandy beach.
I walked past the dock, and on along the curved beach and up around a few trees on the beach to a little ten foot wide clearing of some more beach right at the edge of the park. We stood there for a few minutes, and Maki wanted to go into the water again, so I let her go out a little farther this time. She look so silly out there, and I appreciated her silliness, and that made me think of Sharon, and the way she taught me by example to appreciate little dogsters' silliness, and how she taught me how to talk to dogs, and all that. I finally called her, and we walked up the path up the hill.
There was a King County Park ranger in a white pickup truck with the King county logo on the door coming slowly up the hill, and I reined Maki in to get out of the way, and glanced at the driver, a woman park ranger, who smiled at me and nodded as she drove by. We walked on up the hill, and then wandered off the road into a grove of big trees, some nice Douglas firs and other evergreens. They formed a pleasant grove. Apparently some landowner had died and decided to give this little strip of beachfront property to the county. There was a little tiny brick building nearby that looked like it might have been one of the outbuildings to some old farm house, maybe a pump house years ago. Who used to live here? What kind of old house used to be here? We walked through the grove to the edge of the little creak that knifes through the middle of the park, cutting down into the topsoil about ten feet, making a mini canyon, with fast growing, water loving trees growing sideways out of the muddy sides of the canyon. Maybe they are cottonwoods or willows. Maki likes to stand at the edge of the canyon and look down, and I noticed how she approached carefully, slight crouching down as she came close to the precipice, and how you really don't have to worry about her falling off, although it's a natural reaction to want to pull her back.
We continued to walk down the side off the mini-canyon, and as we got back down closer to the lake, it got shallower, and there were a few places where Maki could easily climb down, which she soon did. She tramped up and down in the water of the shallow stream, looking silly and absorbed and self-confident, and as though she wouldn't rather be anyplace else. I saw a couple with a cute little mutt dog. The woman had pretty long blond hair, and seemed very sweet and gentle. I didn't pay much attention to the guy. She was looking at Maki, and I shyly looked back out of the corner of my eye at her. A called Maki, and we went on down the side of the creek, and back to the shore of the lake. Down near the shore, the creek emerged from the canyon and meandered for a few feet, splitting into two streams and running into the lake. You could imagine it being a mighty river running into the ocean. Maki began to tramp in the shallow water going upstream. As we walked back upstream, I noticed a minnow in the water below scramble away as Maki splashed. Maki's leash is on a reel, and it spooled out more and more as the canyon got deeper, Maki splashing along the whole time. At one point there was a small tree in the way along the path, and I had to lean against it and pass the reel from one hand to the other so that I could follow Maki on up the creek. Finally we were getting to the deeper part where she wouldn't be able to climb the side of the canyon, so I said "OK, Mak," and she obligingly scampered up the almost vertical side and looked up at me briefly, proud of herself.
I wanted to go back down towards the lake again, and cross the little bridge across the creek down towards the lake, so we went down that way, and as we did I noticed another strolling couple, this one seemed to be an Indian couple, with the lady wearing a sari that covered her head and draped down over her shoulders and down her back. They passed over the bridge and walked on down by the restrooms. Maki and I crossed the bridge, which it seems used to be for cars, but they had narrowed the passageway on top by installing narrow railings only wide enough for foot traffic. We walked on across the bridge and up the pathway. On this side of the creek there was a wide expanse of grass with only a single old apple tree to break the gentle slope up the hill that leads back to the parking lot. A guy came down the path by himself, no dog. Most of the people I had seen so far had dogs, except for the Indian couple. I looked him in the eye as he passed and said "Hi," he responded in kind. He looked like a thirty-ish guy, just your average guy. I force myself to be friendly sometimes, and reflexively act cool at other times. What a weirdo.
We walked on up the path to the car, as I considered my options for the rest of the day. It was only about nine thirty, and Sharon didn’t need to be picked up until seven p.m. We got back to the car, and I opened the hatch in back, and told Maki to get in. I took one of the "doggy towels" we have there for the purpose, and began to methodically rub her down, her feet, her belly, her chest. Her long hair was wet and had lots of sand. As usual, it dried off pretty well, and lots of the sand came off with the rub down. I said "get in" and she hopped over the back of the back seat and into the main part of the car. I closed the hatch, and left my key out to open the drivers' side door. I opened it and got in. Maki sat in the passenger side, and I grabbed the Washington state atlas from its place in the little holder that Sharon found that hangs on the back of the passenger seat with Maki's water, plastic bags for picking up poop, and other conveniences. I decided to drive out east into the country, by Carnation and Duvall.