Yago returns

Last night, Bailey and two of Yago's friends came to the airport with me to pick up our Spanish friend. I was so pleased with Bailey's behavior in the airport terminal... who knew that they allowed dogs in the place. An airport staffer watched me standing on the sidewalk for a half and hour when he finally said, "You know, he can go inside if you want." I didn't know and I was so appreciative of the guy's words. For an hour Bailey had old and young alike stopping to say hello. Most got right on the floor with him. He was gentle and laid back and rolled onto his back for most everyone asking for a belly rub. Teenaged girls and elderly "we used to have a Berner" folks petted the furry boy and enjoyed his company. It reassured me that soon he'll be an older, more settled dog and perhaps stints in the nursing home for hugs and hellos will be a possibility. He is a hug-able, happy fella who seems to make people smile.

Today, we have kids and friends popping in to say hello to Yago. Bailey played with them for hours, but now he's underneath the writer's chair taking a nap after a late night of airport love.

White Cap Mountain Climb

After the dentist and a tooth reconstruction, a host of email, a bit of writing on my article about Charlie, a ski racer from Burke Mountain Academy, and phone calls... I packed up a kit and hit the road for a mountain climb about 15 minutes from my home. A bit hot, a bit buggy, but a good deal of fun. Bailey did well on leash on the way up... and on the way down, off leash, he stayed fairly focused and connected to me. He does the same when I'm writing in the morning! :-)

White Cap Mountain Climb

Home at last

I've been in San Antonio, Texas, visiting my favorite sister who is gearing up for another difficult week at START. Go Barbie!

Bailey loved being home, and after a run on Black Mountain, a swim in the mountain pool, a good meal... we both collapsed.

There's no place like home... click click click.

No... no... I don't want to help mow: I want a treat, boy... a treat.

Enrolling at UMaine... Go Black Bears!

Bailey visited UMaine on Friday to sign up for classes in the Class of 2015. Along with the college's Dean Dear Grammie, are many of the Shible Aunts who fed the new admit treats and spring water from a crystal bowl! Now that's the way to matriculate.

Go UMaine!

Adding a chapter

It feels about 80 degrees already this Memorial Day morning, and the June 1st deadline for Writing on the Bus: Using Athletic Team Notebooks and Journals to Advance Learning and Performance in Sports looms. My home office is stuffy and still--not at all comfortable for a pup with a fur coat. But he's here, wrapped around the legs of my office chair, breathing softly, asleep, keeping me in my writer's chair. Co-authorship at its best.

After the run...

Bailey's had a sore leg for a couple of weeks, but now he seems recovered. We ran for about 45 minutes at Black Mountain... he looked so happy to be sprinting up and down the cross-country trails. After the run, Bailey lounged in a stream's pool and then, while the old guy stretched, he took a snooze in the parking lot. It's good to have sunshine, warm weather, and a healthy dog.

Happy Birthday, Bailey.

Happy Birthday, Bailey!

Bailey had a great Birthday week starting with two daylong play dates with his buddy Pete, a run at Black Mountain, followed by a lounge in a fresh water pool in the stream next to the lodge. He's a happy happy boy... so am I.

One writer's desk...

I believe it was my brother Fred who described our grandfather's office desk and the assorted trappings of a writer's life: an L.C. Smith typewriter, pencils, notepaper, pens, paperclips, and stacks of paper and books.... Grandpa Burt wrote five books and taught marketing and advertising at Boston University and Northeastern. His most popular book may have been–and probably still is–The Story of Mount Washington (1960, Dartmouth). He also wrote one called Watch Out for the Racketeers... I find mention of that book in the dust cover of the Mount Washington book, but I don't think I have a copy.

But Grandpa's desk... I know I walked through his study countless times as a boy. In fact, as I write this morning, I can picture the second-floor passageway leading to his office from my grandmother's bedroom. I see shadows of that desk, but back then I wouldn't have understood those papers or his writer's life.

Through most of my writing career, I have kept a messy desk. Every six to twelve months, out of frustration or a new project, I spend a day cleaning the office and that desk. As this book reaches the final stages of revision, I have have begun to clean, sort, file, stack, and discard... it's like living the book in reverse, seeing the connections, the learning, and the moments without a clear path forward and times when the words just appeared. That's writing, I suppose. Or a desk's story, anyway.

Snowy Hike

April 24, 2011, brought snow showers and 30 degree temperatures. After 8 hours behind the computer revising the book, I looked out over my desk and saw Bailey looking at me with his "I- just-want-to-go-out-and-run" eyes. So we did. An hour and fifteen minutes of snow and mud running up toward Joe Pond. We both took naps when we returned.

After the run...

We are hooked on Black Mountain's cross country trails even in mud season. Bailey runs 5x my distance at 10x my speed... and then one of us crashes, deservedly so.

Happy Birthday, Gina!

On top of BMOM

Hiking to the top of Black Mountain–The notion of just going up applied to me; as for Bailey, he must have run up and down, up and down 2 or 3 times as he enjoyed the sunshine, snow, and spring sniffs.

Climbing BMOM

We had a great hike and run on Black Mountain of Maine today. It took 38 minutes to get to the top of the chairlift (my best time three years ago was 28:30)... makes no difference, though, what a glorious day. We met our neighbor, Deanna Petrie, on the side of the mountain, and she was kind enough to take our picture.

One dog's run

We took advantage of the 47 degree sunshine today in western Maine and headed off to Black Mountain of Maine for a run. I'm recovering from a litany of injuries over the past six months, and it felt grand to be able to run (yes, OK, jog) for an hour on the snow-covered cross-country trails. Bailey ran himself into the ground. At one point we were scaling the side of a 25 foot mogul (a steep mothah) built for skiers and Bailey went up and down, up and down... Man. Um, I mean, Dog! Here, Bailey waiting for me to rally for the second hour... maybe by mid-summer.

One dog's bath...

During our run up on Black Mountain's cross-country ski trail, Bailey found some stinky poop to roll in. What is the fascination or the instinctual basis for such action? I scrubbed him down with snow on the mountain side, and then gave him a proper bath on the back deck at the house. When I poured the last bucket of warm water over him after having soaped him up, he looked at me with the most pathetic eyes. A bit of that look is reflected in this photograph.

"The best words in the best order."

Poets search tirelessly for their words--live lifetimes seeking them out. Visit Frost's cabin in Ripton, Vermont and you'll see evidence of that on his cabin's walls. Or read Frost's collected works and see the never-quite-there revisions in the back matter. Rosen said, "The poem is the point at which our strength gave out." I can't imagine Frost ever giving in.

I used to think I was a poet, and loved the idea of the life––shacked up in a small cabin on the shores of Lake Webb, white wine at midnight speaking the 44th revision of a poem about Weld. Some of those poems landed in regional publications and one even found a place in Indiana Writes and was anthologized... but now, thirty years later, I know that I didn't work long enough for those words. I might be able to now.

Spring Snow Storms

Spring storms are good for writers. They keep us indoors, nose to the keyboard and ass in the chair.

Winter hangs on...

The electricity went out this afternoon with the wet snow, so off we headed toward Joe Pond. April is just two weeks away, and we have enough snow for skiing for another 4-6 weeks. Amazing. I tried out the GPS on my Android phone to create the map and where we were at the time.

Poor Ry-Ry crashes on his surf board in the California surf

Bailey is deeply saddened by Ryan's surfing mishap.

We advise...

1) standing,

2) standing, and

3) not landing face first.

Myles Visits

Bailey's brother Myles stopped by as he was heading back to UMaine. Spring break is over and Myles is back at it!

Do I shed?

"What? You think a pretty boy like me would shed?"

"Damn straight. I shed small to medium-sized puppies! It's curious. When my writer needs a break from four-hours at the keyboard--where, by the way, he talks to himself a lot--he vacuums the rugs and takes pictures of me. Really, he needs a life beyond writing."

Just saying...

Seven months into my current writing project after nearly six years of collecting data... I went out in public for the first time in a week on Saturday and felt like I'd discovered a new planet. I was happy to get home–the writing life is not for light weights.

Another tough morning...

... in the life of a writer's dog. I revise page after page, paragraph after paragraph ... sentences, words... chapters, and still he snores.

Snow Frisbee

Snow Frisbee

Another snow storm hit Maine today--not much, but enough to make some of us look at the calendars for the official first day of spring. It's good weather for writers and for Bernese Mountain Dogs. Pictures of me sitting behind my desk searching for just the right words would not compare to these shots of Bailey frolicking in our new snow. He's a good boy--a happy boy... I think he makes me a better writer. But then, that's getting just a bit Emersonian... "So shall we come to look at the world with new eyes. It shall answer the endless inquiry of the intellect, — What is truth? and of the affections, — What is good? by yielding itself passive to the educated Will. ... Build, therefore, your own world. As fast as you conform your life to the pure idea in your mind, that will unfold its great proportions. A correspondent revolution in things will attend the influx of the spirit." Truth is, I throw the Frisbee and he chases it--and that's just plain fun. Spring arrives in three weeks....

Snow Frisbee

Oh, I think Bailey has grown....

Click photo to enlarge!

The Keeper visits....

Kyle the Keeper stopped by to visit with Bailey... we both noticed that Bailey has grown.