Bricks & Dogs

Getting rained out on the weekends is really slowing my progress on the brick delamination repair, but this is where things stand now:

So many challenges, the least of which is having to climb up and down to and from the 3rd scaffold rack every time I need a tool or to reload the grout bag. I'm doing the best I can with strings and levels and every trick I know to get things straight(ish) and plumb (ish), but it's not easy. It is, however, tedious, as is talking about bricks nonstop because that's the only thing I've dealt with for the past what feels like forever. 

Let's take a break from the brick talk for a minute; instead, I want to talk a little bit about the youngest dog in the family, Freckles. She turned 2 over the weekend and we did a celebratory birthday hike (that turned into a celebratory birthday swim), and she got some new toys and treats but to be fair, we go hiking at various places pretty frequently and it's rare that a day goes by without the dogs eating grilled chicken or steak or scrambled eggs or mashed sweet potatoes or beef stew, so in Freckles' world, her birthday was like most other weekend days.    

Freckles and Roscoe remind me of my brother Andy and I. Maybe I just want to see it that way, or maybe their differences in demeanor, personality, and ability are common among younger/older siblings, but whatever it is, it's kinda neat to see. If I had to use a few words to describe Roscoe I'd use words like steady, dependable, sturdy, smart, curious, etc. He's gone about life with a confident calmness and been content to, when he was younger and able, serve as leader of the pack and caretaker of those around him. Quiet, no frills, nothing fancy, but as rock solid as they come. In hockey terms, he's been a phenomenal stay-at-home defenseman. 
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And then there's Freckles, who is more like the undersized-but-wildly-talented winger that flies around the rink, is a little bit unpredictable, and will follow up insane highlight reel goals with a penalty for spearing a ref and then throw something at the opposing bench on the way to the box while smiling through all of it. She's 800 times the athlete Roscoe could have ever dreamt of being. She's super high-energy, and comes absolutely unhinged when I come home from work each day, or when I say things like "wanna go to the park" or "wanna ride in the truck". She swims (Roscoe doesn't). She will play "fetch" anytime, anywhere, with anything (Roscoe doesn't). She loves sticking her head out of my truck's windows (Roscoe doesn't). She will chase any and all wildlife to the ends of the earth (Roscoe doesn't). She is nonstop super happy, she's amazingly excitable, she's fearless, she's playful, she wants to follow me everywhere I go, and she 100% attacks life with reckless abandon. She's small, but she's fierce. 

I've done my best to provide Roscoe with a relatively exciting life, whether it was mile after mile after mile of leash-free hiking excursions multiple times a week or getting a pretty solid diet of "people food", and he's always been welcome on any furniture I own. Things are no different with Freckles; here's a look at how she spent her 2nd year of life: 

For as much of a pain in the ass as she can be on hikes sometimes - we still can't go 100% leash-free just yet, but she's getting close, and she's knocked Roscoe, who isn't real steady on his legs anymore, over a time or 17 - it's hard not to laugh at her shenanigans and I hope she never loses her enthusiasm for everything she gets to experience. She's no longer a puppy, but I have a feeling she'll occasionally get referred to as "baby girl" for the rest of her hopefully long and adventurous life. 

Next time we talk, I'll hopefully get to tell y'all about finishing up the wall rebuild.

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