Monk

♠
I bathed Bo this morning and may have come upon a new trick to make life a little easier, in some respects.

Last night, since I was feeling so grungy, with my hair greasy and writhing on my head, I decided not to hold off on my own bathing, so I showered knowing that I was going to be back in the shower this morning with Bo. And I think this may be the way to do it.

It helps me to get through Bo's bathing when I don't have to bathe myself at all, not even one shampooing. This probably doesn't save me much more than five minutes, if that, but it does save me some significant shifting about, no longer switching my soap for the dog shampoo, as well as the more obvious savings from not having to treat myself, but concentrating fully and more efficiently on Bo. And you should know how any labor savings is deeply appreciated by our primate-protagonist.

Of course, it may be objected that this savings is simply shifted to the extra shower, and much of it is, but the main problem was the shower with Bo and getting through that; this is one of those chores that make one weary of life. And now it is more manageable, which is more necessary when you appreciate that bathing Bo is now a weekly chore, rather than something done about every three weeks as in the old days before this flea infestation.

I even flirted with the notion of not getting in the shower at all, and reverting back to the very first years of Bo's life, when I would bathe the dogs from outside the tub, the more usual way, I presume. But I realized that it is probably easier just to get in the shower to have access to all of the dog more readily. No need to get carried away and overdo a good idea.

xXx

♠
"I really need to learn to shave someday," Monk mutters in the first few minutes of his shave, hacking away at the brush on his chin. But after about ten minutes, he was relieved to start making headway.

And I am pretty pleased with a bald face. All that straggly hair really is hideous. Though, this face bald is no prize, either.

Anyway, we're ready for the library season. This week I think. I finished Caesar a few days ago, and am ready to go when I finish the Hard Case Crime pocketbook "Say It With Bullets". Maybe we'll leave on Wednesday. Thursday would be better, but once I finish, I don't think I'll be able to wait, but will rush off the next day, unless Pop has some business to take care of.

___ ___ ___

After shaving and showering, Monk had an ugly episode with Bo. The eskie started hacking up as if to throw up, and he sends the dog out. Then Monk joins him. When they come back inside Bo resumes hacking up, even though he had entirely stopped the whole time they were outside, and this ignites Monk's anger, and he kicks Bo back outside. After bringing him back inside, Bo becomes hesitant about heeding Monk's call to go into the theater, and Monk grabs him roughly by the neck and kicks him into the room. And Bo feels it. The eskie slinks deep into the laundry room and he keeps his head turned away from Monk throughout the afternoon reading session.

Monk is left wondering how he could do this to the old boy. Usually he feels so good after a shave and shower, feeling refreshed and reinvigorated. Then I realize that it is precisely because he was feeling so refreshed that he got angry. Monk didn't want to go out in the hot sun and get sweaty and feel dirty. Not a good reason. There can be no good reason. But that is what happened.

I gave Bo bigger scraps from my dinner, and all seems fine. But stop pushing your luck, tough guy. Bo is the greatest love of your life.

xXx

♠
On the post-breakfast rounds, Monk sees the beginning of a new wave of black specks on Bo. Last Thursday would have been the day Monk bathed Bo to stay on that seven-day cycle, but the eskie looked good enough to wait at least until the beginning of next week, and he intends to stick to that plan.

Bo is not inundated with these specks, and Monk needs to mow the back tonight, which is enough work and showering for one day. Nor does he feel a rush to bathe Bo tomorrow, but is content to wait until Monday morning, when he will be ready for another shower himself.

The fleas are still jumping on the dog during our last rounds in the moonlight, and I don't expect to see an end to this anytime soon, though I loathe the idea of having to wait until winter, especially when one cannot be confident that we will even get a winter this year.

Maybe it would help if we don't get any more rain. This week ended with a real turn back to summer and continues to shine (notwithstanding the little shrinking of the day that we are beginning to see). We have needed to put the a/c on at ten thirty in the morning, again. It is welcomed.

xXx

♠
Monk got around to washing his black clothes today. The black jeans did it. After mowing up the leaves last week, those pants were too disgusting to leave alone. He should throw them away, since there is almost as much hole as there is crotch. He ought to start using his sweats for mowing instead. But old habits die hard. He wants to see if he can get another year out of those jeans.

At least Monk now has a few more T-shirts and undies to use, taking off some of the strain on the colored ones.

xXx

♠
Pop had an appointment this morning. It is a beautiful, cool, sunny morning, and Monk would have liked to take his walk, even without bread. He thought about pushing everything off a day, but his hair is writhing in its grease a little bit, so he decided to take a shower anyway, and go ahead and make it a full-scrub shower as it has been a long time since he did that.

He cut his morning reading a little short for this full-scrub shower, but he wound up masturbating to some old rape fiction. Afterward, he went to the kitchen and polished off the last few powerded donuts, intending to take Bo outside before his shower, and he started thinking that it has been a long time since he took Bo out back. Enough leaves have collected back there that it is discomforting to Bo.

Thinking about what a nice sunny afternoon it is, Monk found some ambition. He is going to get his little exercise, after all. After lunch, he will mow the back to pick up the bulk of those leaves, even though there is still another load to fall. He also wants to knock that bird's nest down from the porch, before he keeps putting it off and finds a new round of birds trying to make a home out of it.

This will knock aside the afternoon reading, but it is a good plan. And then he will have worked up more of an appetite for those cinnamon rolls. Now, if Monk can only stick to it. The weather and the stars are right.

___ ___ ___

[1330]

Come on, you can do it! Be a man, be a man!

Monk straggles out of his sweats to change to his work jeans, "But I ain't. I just want to sleep and read."

xXx

♠
Preparing his bed for the night of fitful sleeps, when Monk puts the heavy blue blanket aside, he thinks about the warm trend in the weather, wondering when he will need this blanket again, but he remembers Pop saying that a cold front is expected to blow through on Thursday.

Monk checks the extended weather forecast on Yahoo, and his eyes bug out with mouth agape, "Fuck, you know what you're talking about, Pop!" The low for Thursday is listed as 30, below freezing.

Monk hopes that he will remember to put on the faucet protectors tomorrow. Then he remembers that he was intending to bathe Bo on Thursday. Now, he will take care of that tomorrow, as well as go out on his walk and get rid of the old bread that he has ready. One was counting on a break tomorrow from such exertions, after today's trip and shower, but it will be great to beat that cold front.

xXx

~
Monk finally got around to making some headway on Little Bear's coat, cutting away some of those tangles in his long fluffy coat. It had been about a year since Monk worked on his coat. One would think it a labor of love...

Of course, Monk is still working up the nerve to take the scissors to his own mop of hair. He needs to do it soon, since he likes to be back into longer growth when the chilly months of January and February come back around. But it remains to be seen.
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