dogs – kelly hogaboom

smol guests

May 7, 2018

by kellyhogaboom dailies

It’s 11 PM but my husband makes me blueberry pancakes from scratch. They are perfect: three identical, steaming hot and delectable confections. Vegan butter and hot maple syrup. There is a little extra batter so he makes a few more, doling out between each teen. Hot food; sleepy belly.

I have been craving the comfort of foods off and on lately. I am in a constant state of creativity and mourning. My marriage is, for me, opening into a beautiful phase and I love spending time with my husband, I love how he smells, I love how he feels, I love hearing about his day.

I am still rather gutted my children are growing up. They are never again going to be the small children I cared for, for so many years. They are still so sweet, funny, and affectionate – and for this I am glad. Beeps had a wretched cold for a day; during that time they asked me pointedly for more attention and more TLC, and this is something I could grant. We put on the 1978 classic animated film Watership Down and felt the powerful, dramatic score clutch at our hearts. Nels, who was not exposed to the film or music as a young one, scoffed at us and we shouted him away.

Today, a footnote: we drove out to Westport into a gloomy, oppressive cloud cover, to meet with a friend and secure a small kitten for babysitting. Our friend is out of the country for about eight days and during this time we are stewards to this very tiny, very fluffy grey kitten who is now attempting to run our household. We introduce him to so many firsts: hot pancakes, and four stodgy adults kitties, and of course the best kitten-minder of all: Hutch.

And maybe – well there’s no “maybe” about it – my desire to secure a little kitten ward for a few days is that desire to do something fun for the children, something rather superfluous and silly, something that brings us together. Much like the foster kittens of (exactly) two years ago, little J. here will sneak behind the stove and into the warming pan – there’s just something about that spot.

i waited for you but you were already here

March 12, 2018

by kellyhogaboom dailies

Children’s memories are incredible. As we drive out to the beach today they both tell me about the walks, the bike rides, the times we stopped for a trail hike or ate at a restaurant. I have the same memories, of course; but theirs seem so vivid, and they are obviously so fond retelling these events. Their affection for our beaches and our trails is humbling, too; these are places that Ralph and I selected, in effect building so much of their childhood. We don’t program our children like blank tapes but we do influence them so much.

It is sunny and warm – seventy degrees. We arrive to park and no one is near; we can see a few distant sea-gazers on the far-off overlook tower. The oldest child made and packed our lunch – hoagie sandwiches with red leaf lettuce and pickles and vegan lunchmeats and cheese, a side of chips. The dog is perched back of the Jimmy – excited, his expression absolutely jovial and alert. He can’t believe his luck! Once we lock the car and head to the jetty we are disturbed to discover he is finally too old to leap up the rocks and climp over into the hidden sandy beach. He tries many times, valiantly; but his agility is not there. We walk him a bit, then tie up him with a good deal of water, and leave him for a bit. My heart hurts to leave him behind; I also know it is better to have brought him than not at all.

Tide Pools
Today on social media – in a parent support group – I read parents complaining about their teen children, calling teens “assholes”, discussing whether a preteen child was old enough to decide ____ for herself. It hurt my heart; I closed my laptop. I wonder to myself how I avoided this fate, of feeling I was doing my children some kind of favor to care for them.

My children aren’t perfect; just last night one of them had a verbally violent outburst and today tempers are still tender. The child and I have a short conversation in the car today and I tell them that everyone has outbursts; no one in this family is judging, and we need to keep the family safe.

I ask if they know what set them off – were they worried about ___, were they feeling resentment toward ___? They tell me, “I have been asking myself the same thing,” and I am thinking: Job well done. I let them know that sometimes we don’t know why we lash out, and it’s okay not to know for a while. But by the same token, they also need to step back and reflect; it is their responsibility to figure it out. And there is always help available. It’s a conversation we have with our kids; keep it as short as possible, keep it thoughtful. Make sure to center myself first; and if possible discuss the issue after I’ve rested, meditated, and talked with my partner.

Because our dog party member is down for the count, we don’t stay at the beach very long today; long enough to find starfish, and chiton, and little snails and little crabs and large isopods. We stop on our way out of town at a coffee shop for tea lattes, and then home to Ralph who is cleaning the house and preparing dinner.

Before bed my eldest comes to be held and I kiss the top of their fuzzy shaved head; they still smell like the sea. They are soft and warm and content, that we had a day together, playing like children.

I am not a single mom

October 9, 2017

by kellyhogaboom dailies

I am not a “single mom” when Ralph leaves for a weekend or a week, on a conference or business trip. A single mom has to do all this shit without support on the daily. Me, I have a few days of focus and a bit of adrenaline and anyway, I could put a thing or two on the back burner if I need to.

That said, I do have to focus as it’s all on me. Up in the morning and the kitties need to be fed; Herbert Pocket does this adorable thing where when we take the lid of the cat food bin, she pops her little paws on the ledge and inspects the level of cat food inside. I get to take the dog outside on his walks, and make sure he’s fed and has enough water. I scritch him a little extra besides; as hard as I worked on washing him yesterday his fur is so thick and he could use another combing and bath! Maybe in a day or two.

Phoenix tells me tonight, after I paint their nails (black, for Halloween!) – “Thank you for getting me pizza this morning. That was the sweetest thing to wake up to.” While it is certainly true that teens can fend or even cook for themselves, I still feel it’s my responsibility as a parent to try to do a little of that work for them.

Today also I took a bit of cake down to the recovery Club I frequent, right before I pick up the pizza. I slice the slab into two-bite size morsels and arranged them on a large platter. When I cook at the Club, or prep food, men swarm around. Attention; they need attention. “I’ll have a hot dog,” a young man toting a toddler instructs me – mistaking me for the kitchen worker that’s there during limited hours. I explain the situation to him: I’m not a member of the Club and the kitchen isn’t open at th emoment. Other fellows mill around, wanting to tell me about their job (or lack thereof) or just say Hi or whatever. But this is one place that’s good to leave food, because people are always coming through hungry, some off the street. When I first got sober I cooked on the regular because I felt desperate, and grateful, and wanted to give something to the group. And one day a fellow called me, “That chick that always brings food,” and I thought, Well that’s enough of that for now. That particular fellow is very very ill now and every time I see him I am not sure if I’ll see him again.

Tonight, incredibly, for dinner I decide to give a brown rice recipe a try: a (vegan) cheesy broccoli brown rice bake. I had enough brown rice growing up in the bus, I took a solid thirty-year hiatus, but I’m ready to try again. This evening I just know it will turn out wonderfully, and it does – accompanying the bean burritos and the cole slaw Ralph provides. I love peeling off the foil from a hot casserole and letting it sit just five minutes before spooning it out. I love watching how happy people are for hot food – my family yes, and a guest over for dinner.

Ralph is home and after my shower he comes to bed and I put my head on his chest and can feel my hair, down and brushed out, spill across his shoulder. He is warm and strong and feels exactly like home to me. And I know he’s too tired to pay me much mind by now, but my own mind is still a ways from being sleepy. I have had three days’ of hard work and I have some things to worry about besides. So after we say goodnight the pets gather round; two kitties flank me in the bed and I am still up just a little longer, a little deeper into the night before I sink back to sleep.

that’s gonna be a hard pass

October 7, 2017

by kellyhogaboom dailies

Our dog Hutch was a graduate of the Freedom Tails program at Stafford Creek Correctional Center. The program matched rescue dogs with offenders at the prison. Each pair would work together in training before the dog was released for adoption.

Hutch’s was delivered to us with a little English composition book detailing his time with his handler. One memorable entry concerned giving the dog – who is about 73 pounds – a bath:

“Hutch is a gentle soul and would never harm or bite a human. However in giving him a bath he uses all his strength and agility, which is considerable, to avoid the tub.”

“WHICH IS CONSIDERABLE”

Nels and I experienced this today. I couldn’t stand the though of running the hose from the utility sink out to the garage and giving him his bath there – it was cold and a torrential rain was hammering down. Surely, I thought, he’s over his fear of the tub by now. Also, I can just pick him up. I mean he’s big but I am strong. After thoroughly brushing the dog, I sent Nels to grab the soap and a few washrags, and confidently set out to find Hutch and lead him into the bathroom.

But remember:

“WHICH IS CONSIDERABLE”

Ten minutes later, our outdoor setup ready, we lead Hutch outside. He is now literally like one of those medieval painting of a saint with a golden halo and shit. Calm and sedate, as if he’s never thrown a four-alarm panic scramble in his life. He patiently and even sweetly sat through many warm water suds, rinses, and scrubs. Like a gentleman. Like a goddamned Prince of the Realm.

So glad to not be in the bathroom tub!

a fleeting glimpse / out of the corner of my eye

December 29, 2015

by kellyhogaboom dailies

This morning on my walk back up the hill, with my faithful dog at my heels, I am suddenly reminded of my father. He ran long-distance, so several times a week he would set out for a few miles by himself. He had such a distinctive gait that, if I ever saw it again, I would be knocked into stillness at the recognition. A stride I don’t see reflected in my brother or I, my father’s two children, but it’s such an indelible memory it is a part of me nevertheless.

My dad would lift his hand in acknowledgment when a car passed, or perhaps another runner headed the other way. I don’t know how many times I saw this hand motion – hundreds. Thousands? Sometimes I was the driver, or passenger – it’s a small town so I saw my father running many times. Such a familiar sight to me too, this movement on his part, this acknowledgment. He would be deep in his meditative space – that’s what running was for him – and he’d lift his hand, that’s all. But I can see it, and see the cast of his head on the path, and his mind was elsewhere. But even now if I close my eyes and try to remember much more than the flow of the gesture, or the feeling it instills within to remember it – it vanishes.

The dog and I arrive home and two of our cats ask to be let in; a third sits placidly on our kitchen table and calmly moves off when he sees me. (Naughty!). The dog has a quick drink of water and pads over expectantly for my praise, and a scritch between the eyes. I settle his blanket over his bed and somewhere in all this I realize that to support our family – our too-young college student, our spirited son, our dog, our five cats – is quite an accomplishment. It is a labor of love and nothing else. I hadn’t quite seen it that way, seen what a good job we do. Not for any other reason in that there’s always that next step. Today, for instance, we will be replacing the light above the sink. I have bills to pay by phone, on my work break. Two packages to mail out, and a final late Christmas present to wrap. We get to plan the evening meal – a little trickier as Ralph and I have both been ill and unable to eat for the last thirty-six hours.

The dog now sleeps on his bed – he is chasing and barking at something in his sleep. All the funnier as he does not bark when awake. I suppose a big part of our life, Ralph and I, is delivering safe dreams to more than few sentient creatures.

the thrushes too

April 2, 2015

by kellyhogaboom dailies

My son takes my hand; he kisses me. His freckles are surfacing, now, with the spring changes. His face lean like a young wolf; no more baby, even though I search his features for that memory. And as we walk the sun floods our path downtown, lighting up the fresh green grass and the old crumb-bum sidewalk. At my right hand, our dog Hutch pulls at his leash.

And now Nels says to me – by way of affectionate teasing:

“Little bird,

“with a crooked beak.”

Then:

“… Nasty thoughts in its head.”

and he smiles slyly and I pull him close, kiss the top of his head. I don’t even have to stoop.

My car is busted, and sitting at the shop. I can hear the meter running, cha-ching!, more expense. And even after mine is fixed – I have some concerns about Ralph’s car – the power steering, for one. The busted driver’s side window. Our children’s choice to attend school is a difficult one when it comes to working cars, and gas expenditure. A new(er) car isn’t something we can pull off any time soon, either.

The bathtub faucet has a drip: my dog has some mysterious ailment causing him to scratch, and chew on his skin. The house needs an overhaul: a winter’s worth of home clutter is gradually being sorted, categorized, recycled or used. Today I handed a large paper bag full of hair dye and half-used shampoos and other toiletries to a gentleman in a big truck, a liaison arranged via the free Facebook community.

We’ve got an upstairs art studio that needs to be tidied; I’ve a resume and cover letter to send out in the morning. I’m behind on our budget. I’ve been ill – kidneys acting up.

Maybe that’s why it matters. Putting my arms around my daughter and feeling her belly. Holding my husband close, feeling the strength and warmth of his body against mine. The sound of my children’s laughter while they play basketball next door – bounce, bounce, bounce. My cheerful (but small) little sewing studio; ironing the selvedge of new denim. Hot coffee, hot water for an evening shower.

It’s good to be alive, even if I’m usually lost as to what to do with the blessings scattered about at my feet.

You’re gonna have to sleep sometime, MacReady

September 17, 2014

by kellyhogaboom dailies

Meeting someone new.

Lunch.

My wee girl… being beautiful.

Just before yoga tonight. Which was kind of crabby and not-right.

And just now – Ralph, Hutch & I for a late-night walk. Phee at home, completing homework in privacy.

Being a fully-enrolled schooling family – a word has been going through my head. The word is grueling.

You know what’s funny is for years schooling families often seemed to me to be stretched too thin, working too hard, getting too little rest, complaining about the state of the house and being too busy. Then for a few years I thought, I am just imagining that, I am being unfair. But no. It really is a thing. We’re adjusting. We’ll be okay.

Today one of my mentors told me to stop harming myself, stop one harmful practice, set something aside and leave it. I thought of something in the quietness of my heart, and I committed to it.

I’ve a standing writing assignment to put together an article about transitioning from home-/unschooling to full time school. And yeah, I’m writing it, so that will be happening. For now I’m caring for myself, my partner, and our children – my youngest is being a total Hero about this whole schedule and homework and behaving-in-class thing. He’s hitting it out of the park. Phoenix – well. We got her test scores from last year. Nailed it in reading and math (which are apparently the only two test metrics vis-à-vis whether schools are “working” or “failing”, meaning whether they get money, IDGI). She’s shifted to her new 7th grader schedule brilliantly.

The kids are doing fine. They are. Me? Huh. Well, my house is quiet during the day.

Like they say in all those silly movies I watch – “Too quiet.”

I’m listening.

a moment of your time:

September 1, 2014

by kellyhogaboom dailies

Ralph and a few of our friends are putting on an event this Friday at Hoquiam’s historic 7th Street Theatre. “It’s kind of a big deal”. To us.

I’m not sure if all my readers know how much effort we Hogabooms put into some projects, so I thought I’d say a few words.

We have worked very hard for this event. We’ve been designing graphic art, promoting, writing press releases, having tickets and posters printed, and finding sponsors to donate funds, food, and products. We’ve built a slideshow that honors sponsors and showcases Harbor Rescue’s success stories. To secure the theatre and the film rights (which were not cheap) Ralph and I personally scraped up funds from what is (supposedly) savings for a house payment or car repair and put those funds on the line.

Ralph and I are currently working on redesigning the Rescue’s website – so that can be up and running shortly before the film airs. We are also putting together foster and adoption forms to have at the event, raffles, and door prizes.

And of course, we’re trying to find volunteers to man positions on event night.

What we’re really hoping for at this point – frankly – is to have some asses in seats on Friday. Because every ticket purchased, every sponsorship acquired, every scrap of cash sent our way through Paypal, benefits real, living and breathing, suffering animals here in Grays Harbor and surrounding area. If you live here and are reading this, I hope you can attend. This Friday we will be competing with a local football game (yikes!) and, to a lesser extent, the cultural habits of Loggers Playday (yes, that’s a real thing!) – so, we’re hoping for the best.

If you don’t live by – please consider donating directly to the event. You can do this by donating through my Paypal (send to kelly AT hogaboom DOT org) and making sure to put “Harbor Rescue” in the memo field. You can send checks, cash, or even dog food to my address – 611 6th Street, Hoquiam, WA 98550.

You can make a difference in the lives of local critters.

Thank you readers for your steadfast support. I wish you success in all your endeavors. Me – well, in between hustling like I’ve never hustled before – I’m putting on my jeans with a touch of lycra and practicing roundhouse kicks.

sclera

August 10, 2014

by kellyhogaboom dailies

It’s been several hours and two showers and two changes of clothes but I can still feel the horrible slippery feeling of my flip-flops as I tried to navigate a muddy bank section of the river. Right when I slipped – again, and my eye was scratched by a tall reed, right then I realized – I am having such a hard time.

I am so angry.

I am so angry because I am worried for my child and because there is nothing logical I can do (that I haven’t already done) so I am just floundering in these waters. It is like a hangover, and beating myself up, araid and angry. Feeling sick and ill at ease even when I’m with those I love. It’s a horrible experience and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Walking a river is a great way to practice mindfulness – well, especially when you’ve an iPhone tucked in your bra that must, I repeat must, stay dry. So by the end of our trip I felt a little better. Then home; and after some work on the latest tailoring project, and after a hot shower and volunteer work – and talking with a friend – a little better, still.

Today really was beautiful. The children thanked me several times. “Thank you for financing this trip, Mama,” my little girl tells me. They didn’t once get tired of the many dozens of small frogs – and crawdads, and periwinkles, and wee little fish. They didn’t get tired of swimming and wading and climbing.

They are truly my greatest teachers.

pebbles and periwinkles

July 1, 2014

by kellyhogaboom dailies

“Did you see that rock? It was propped up – suspiciously,” my son tells me, in a conspiratorial tone. He reaches down to secure the recalcitrant stone – it’s about an inch oval, a quarter-inch thick. I am not sure what was so suspicious about it. But he is moving on. Then – a winged, red-eyed insect struggling in the water. The kids quickly come to its aid, fishing it out using a leaf and laying it on a sun-warmed rock.

“We need to make a sign,” Nels says, “‘Do Not Disturb This Butterfly’.” Phoenix and I share a quick glance. “Nels, no one is going to come along any time soon. The butterfly will dry off and fly away soon,” I tell my son. Still tenderhearted!

Goodbye, winged insect! And – good luck.

It got a little over ninety in town, so getting out to the river was just right. Somebody was scared of wading in the current, but that somebody got over it. Very proud, I am!

We borrowed my mother’s truck; my car is still not running.

“Patience, persistance, & prayer”, as I always say in my boring-ass way.

Below: a river panorama; quite lovely viewed large: