Tea time and training time

The more news I watch the more it seems like our country and our world is in a state of chaos. So much division, impassioned stances on big issues, and total disdain for differing beliefs makes harmony seem hopeless. But, I’m not convinced the news or the fiery dialogue on social media tell the whole story. I think there are still a lot of people paying attention to the discourse but pursuing peace and trying to love those around them in small, non-newsworthy ways. This I know for sure: some people are still having afternoon tea.

 

It’s messy. And, sometimes some of the guests have a hard time sitting up and minding their manners. But, it’s still shared tea. I think it was Robert Fulghum who said:

Think what a better world it would be if we all–the whole world–had cookies and milk about three o’clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankies for a nap.

Truly, I think afternoon tea or cookies and milk either one would go a long way for all of us. I can’t really speak to the benefits of an afternoon nap, though, because the people in my care have never participated in such nonsense.

Speaking of nonsense… We’ve been trying to work on some training with our dog in the evenings. One of my stocking stuffers from the Spouse was a clicker you can use for such purposes. {A dog clicker is just what it sounds like: a small device that fits in the palm of your hand and makes a clicking sound when you depress a button on it}. So, we read the instructions and he started working with her to do various things like go lay on her bed, come, get up, etc, etc. Each time you click the clicker you’re supposed to simultaneously give the dog a treat so she associates the clicking sound with praise and a reward. Simple enough. This seemed to be working the first night, and she was making some progress. But, by the second evening she decided that the clicking noise might be very, very scary. At first she just tucked her tail and shied away from him. By the end of the evening she resorted to hiding under the table and sulking.

I went over to speak with her about the matter and she came somewhat closer but made sure to turn her head to avoid eye contact.

After all, I could have been hiding the evil clicker behind my back. Treat or no treat, some things just aren’t worth the risk.

And, so now when our 40-pound dog sees or hears the 4-ounce clicker she takes cover under the kitchen table. I think this means our training is going really well. In fact, we’re so good at this we should probably consider offering our training services to a wider audience via a series of DVD’s. Clearly, we know how to teach a dog a thing or two.

I’ll close with one other bit of nonsense. On Sunday I pulled out one of the notepads I keep in my purse to take a couple of notes during the sermon, and I came across this page. It looks like the older two girls had been playing some variation of MASH in the car and this was the 2nd Grader’s sheet.

I don’t know what kind of place she’s dreaming up, but I know for sure it has to be located in the South. I can say this with certainty because where else would you find a place with 200 chandeliers pronounced “shan-der-lers” and 10 sets of stairs, or as we call them around here: “stars.” Also, we like to occasionally add an extra syllable to “bathroom” so that it becomes the “bath-er-room.” We may not know how to spell all that well or pronounce everything just right, but at least we Southerners still know a “manchen” when we see one.