Here lies the world’s most perfect snowball – that is, until it’s tossed in the air for the teeth-bearing dogs to attack and kill. While my friend Rachel was visiting from the California coast this week, we decided to go for a walk with the dogs in Truckee so they could play in the snow. This turned more into a snowball fest with the dogs tearing through the air, flipping and twisting and clobbering the oh-so-perfect snowballs. The warm weather the Sierras have been experiencing makes for nice hikes but rare snowfall, so we decided to enjoy the white stuff while there was still some on the ground. Considering that I just bit the bullet and bought a mid-week pass to Sugarbowl, we’d better get another storm soon or I’m gonna send out the attack dogs.
I love how dogs get to cuddle with their best friends or bite each other’s faces off, depending on their mood. At this particular moment, they’re taking a nap on the couch in the unusually warm afternoon light, and you’d think they are just two of the most heavenly creatures alive who could never do wrong. And by wrong, I mean unzip couch cushions just to chew up the inner stuffing and strew it all about as soon as you leave the house, or go for every sock within mouth’s reach, resulting in an oh-so-fun sock shopping trip. And although most women love shopping for shoes, shopping for the other foot accessory doesn’t make for nearly as fun or frivolous an experience.
One awesome thing about living in Reno: the number of getaways within a few hours of here. Friends and I headed to Nevada City and the Yuba River Monday to enjoy the 70 degree weather, the wine and the river. As we dropped below snow level, smiles consumed our faces and drool drained from the dogs’ mouths. We tasted lots of good and affordable wines (take that Sonoma and Napa!) and played/nearly died in the river. Heading down the trail, we watched not one but three dogs slide consecutively down slick boulders as we followed. And climbing up proved to be a slab crack climb on wet granite. But we escaped unscathed and had a lovely day, which is much needed during the lack of employment.
’ve never seen the orbital cloud formations like the ones in Nevada anywhere else in the country, let alone the world, although I’m sure they must exist elsewhere. They’re like giant spaceships, and I’ve seen them almost every day since I’ve been back in Reno. Just another reason of why I like the high desert – trippy clouds and the ubiquitous scent of sage. I’ve been keeping busy, or trying to, by working on writing and photo gigs, going to the dog park, catching up on reality TV and trying to plan trips to the Bay Area and Bishop. If it ever snows again Tahoe will be on the agenda, but right now snowboarding on ever-changing icy/slushy groomers just doesn’t seem to be a top priority.
Being the daughter of a photographer, I empathize with Bonnie, who is the sometimes unwilling subject of many a photo, and who is often caught on camera while in indecent positions or doing her business. I’m a shameless dog owner, but at least she doesn’t have to worry about me showing potty pictures to future boyfriends. But I had to show off her super cute new jacket from Old Navy that was such a steal – $6!!! Now we’re ready for a Bishop climbing trip. And maybe I can get a decent night’s sleep while camping by not having to share my already narrow sleeping bag with a shivering dog. Not that I don’t love the company, but when it’s 5 degrees outside, I’m not so forgiving.
I chase aloof dog, whistle, bring out the baby talk, crawl in dirt and grass. Dog finally gives me condescending glance. Rejoice! Meet Burton the Bostonian, a.k.a. Monkey Butt. His ears most often point in different directions, his arthritis miraculously disappears when you say “walk,” he can usually be found warming himself on his bed in front of the fireplace, or licking the last drops of ice cream from the dessert bowl, and in his old age he’s grown a gray beard and wise eyes. We found him as a pathetic little pup in a rainy Burger King parking lot. I took my holiday visit home as the perfect opportunity to photograph our camera-shy boy, and to adorn my jeans with some much-needed grass stains.