Texture

The willow catkins are exploding everywhere. The fluff collects in drifts on the ground and float on the water. I've found them in Spike's fur and in my hair. They are an integral part of our walks in a city of creeks. I took this picture at Spring Lake which we walked around this morning for the first time in a long time. 

School is out, the waterpark is floating on the swimming lagoon and the lifeguards were hosing it down and adding new blow-up elements to it. The place is a hive of activity in the summer.  Small boys were whizzing around the paved trail on scooters and e-bikes, and larger ones were taking on the rocky trails on mountain bikes. There are hordes of geese escorting their goslings across the path and more unencumbered ones swimming on the lake. There are always lots of dogs having interesting interactions with other dogs, their owners and other people.  Around on the quieter side of the lake I heard a bull frog in the bullrushes and the distinctive whistle of the red winged blackbirds stood out from the more melodic songs of other birds. I said good morning to a man peering into the trees with binoculars and he said, 'and there is a morning dove' as he jockeyed around for a better look. 

Once home I did a bit more snipping of Spike's coat. I've sort of declared it finished although I keep spotting random clumps of fur that should be shorn but by the time I catch up with him if can't locate it. I cut and polished my own toenails, but I'm going to have to take Spike somewhere to get his cut because I draw the line at cutting them myself. One reason he has 'easty-westy' feet is because his little toes are actually on top of his feet.

A trip to the dental office proved to be uneventful. I had been worried about one spot but the hygienist said it was just a spot where I had worn through the porcelain crown to the metal underneath. The bill is always a bit steep but perhaps that's because in addition to receptionists and hygienists and assistants and the dentist himself, there is one woman who seems to do nothing but escort one from the waiting room to the hygienist's  (Lisa?, Lucy?) chair. She put a paper bib on me and asked me if anything was bothering me, and I mentioned the dark spot. When Lisa/Lucy came in she relayed this info to her as if I weren't sitting there and perfectly capable of telling her myself. It was all very efficient and I was out of there with well polished teeth in half and hour.

I trip to the outdoor shopping center on the way home turned out to be a bust because they seem to be gutting whole sections at a time. Inevitably the store I'm needing is in a construction zone which is closed to the public while they remodel, re-landscape and remake the whole place. I could hardly get my bearings in the redone bits  and gave up. It may be quite nice...someday.