Four days after that, my wonderful nephew was born. I could blame this sweet (not so) little soul for my lack ambition to post to this blog since his arrival. I could blame him. But the truth is that it has been an absolute joy to see this little boy pass through the myriad of stages between birth and his imminent eight-month birthday.
Right around the same time my nephew was born (and my previous post was written), the Beagle started having health issues - recurring blood in his urine. Sometimes the blood was/is readily observable, sometimes not. We went to a handful of different vets who did probably dozens of different tests, trying to find a cause for this malady. None was identified.
And now, eight months later, he probably still has blood in his urine most days, and no one knows why. His case has been placed into the ever-so-satisfying (insert sarcasm here) diagnostic category of idiopathic renal hematuria. Which basically means he has blood in his urine but we don't know why, and presumably it's not harmful.
In keeping with this diagnosis, he has not shown any sign of distress or deterioration. He continues to allow Bean to tell him interesting stories:
And he is patiently getting to know the mobile (and fur-grabbing) CJ as well:
And I have learned not to let it bother me that his urine is sometimes orange or brownish red.
Truth: it still sometimes bothers me; but it never bothers him; so that makes it bother me less...
I could blame my lack of posts on the time I spent worrying about the Beagle's health and bending down to watch him pee (much to the disturbance of my neighbors). I could blame idiopathy.
Also in the past eight months, I did this:
Now this, this I could definitely blame. And I think it is where I will load the bulk of said blame. On the fact that I couldn't bear to sit in front of my computer for any longer than I had to. That the only words coming out of my fingers were scientific in style. That 170+ pages don't edit themselves.
I have recently had three friends separately ask me about my blog and why I stopped posting. I hadn't really thought about it except that it was supposed to be something that was enjoyable, not something that felt like work. And I guess I needed a break. But starting back up again doesn't feel like work, so I'm back at it again.
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Now that the blame has been allocated --> the real post...
I was sitting around a table with three other folks recently. We could all hear a bird calling outside a window on this pleasant June day in Kansas. The bird was calling ceaselessly. A paraphrased version of the conversation that followed goes something like this:
Bird Listener #1: Do you guys hear that? That could drive a person crazy. In fact, it may be driving me crazy right now... Yes, it is driving me crazy. The bird has to go.
Bird Listener # 2: It doesn't both me.
Me: Me either. I could listen to it all day.
Bird Listener #2: That would be fine with me too.
Bird Listener #3: I couldn't listen to it all day. I'd have to shoo the bird away.
Bird Listener #1: So we two can't handle a continuous, repetitive bird noise, and you two don't mind it?
Bird Listener #2: That's sounds about right.
Me: Yup.
The table was divided right down the middle. I cannot precisely identify the personality trait that separated two of us from the other two. But I do know that I may have an uncommon propensity for listening to things repetitively.
For instance, I have been listening to this song for the past 80 minutes on repeat:
And I'm not in the least tired of it. I've had this habit for many years. I used to drive college roommates crazy (so very sorry girls) by listening to the same song over and over again for the better part of a day. I can't do this with just any song, but when the mood strikes and the song is right, I hit that repeat 1 button and let the song soak in.
It is not, in fact, going to rain today. The forecast is set at 103 with exactly 0% chance of rain. But Norah Jones' voice is as silky the first time as it is the 28th time.
So, feel free to weigh in on which side of the table you belong and what freakish thing may be going on in the brains of the repetitive tolerators that keeps them from going crazy when faced with unvaried noise.
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