The new house is starting to look less like a tornado went through it and more like a suburban house. The kitchen still needs it's 2nd coat of paint, but the bedroom is set up.

Of course, last night my back spazzed out so bad I had to sleep on the floor...when I could fall asleep at about 5:00 in the morning. I think I might have over done the treadmill a little bit: it's sort of a classic story with me. I get a little bit of excersise under my belt and then just go nuts, because it feels so good to be able to do something. Then I have to pay the price for it later.

Some things, though, are always worth it. Dancing is ALWAYS worth it, even if I can't move the next day. Almost all the time, hiking or walking in the woods is worth it....

The last time I went on a walk in the woods, I went with Rob, Theresa and The Hub. It was really great, even though there were some steep areas. And I didn't have any "next day blues". There's just something so great about being outside, watching the light streaming through the trees, listening to and watching for birds. Sometimes, walking in the woods I feel like I could walk forever. The Hub teases me that I'm going to go off and become a hermit somewhere, just leave everything behind and go curl up in a hollowed out tree trunk or something. He said I could make people bring me things like butter and deodorant in exchange for strange, arcane sayings which they could take as prophecy, and I could live that way forever.

He could be right. I'm pretty sure I could live like that for at least 4 or 5 years, especially if I had something warm and waterproof to sleep in. Hmmm.

You'd think he'd WANT to go camping with me then, so that I don't just take off for the wilderness one day. But, I'm afraid he thinks camping would just encourage me. He's also worried that my "if it ain't botherin' me none let it alone" attitude toward wildlife would lead to me getting eaten by a bear or something. But I don't think I'd look like much of a meal to a bear, especially after I'd been out in the wilderness eating berries for awhile.

Of course, all of this is theoretical.

But, you see the problem. I've been off my cane for two months and already, on some level, I'm planning some major camping/hiking expedition.

Clearly, if The Hub is not into camping ( according to him we HAVE been camping ever since we don't have cable television anymore) I need a large dog that would enjoy it. Winston is not into The Great Outdoors. He does like to lay out in the yard, but only if the weather is good and he could bask in the sun on the concrete patio at the old house. Sometimes, in the summer, we'd say the place was "The Villa of the Baskin' Hound" - even though, technically, Winston is a member of the working group. Otherwise, he has no interest in being out of doors. He does share my attitude towards wildlife. He doesn't chase anything, except if he has the idea that it's too close to the house, or to me. If you set his dog food outside with him and the birds come down to eat it, he just watches them, hopping around inches away from his nose. He calmly watches the squirrells zipping along.

Even when I was on my cane he was the first one of the three of us to get tired on a walk. And if he gets tired he just lays down wherever he is until he feels like moving again.

Also, he hates changes in his routine. Two years ago we went cabin camping and brought Winston with us. He refused to get out of the jeep for hours.

But, if I had a dog, I'd be more protected from The Hub's other big worry: The Wierdo on the Trail. I admit to being a little worried about Wierdos if I went camping by myself, since I am Flypaper for Freaks.

The truth is, I'll probably never go camping by myself or with any body else. If I went with The Hub it would be no fun because I'd be knocking myself out trying to make sure he was having a good time, or at least not having as bad a time as he thought he'd have. If I went by myself, I'd spend the whole time knowing that he was worried about me, and maybe even slightly mad at me, so that's no use. Besides, that's how his first wife met the guy she left him for before she passed away: camping. No wonder he doesn't like it!

Anyway, I'm hoping my back will feel better enough tonight that I'll be able to sleep in the bed (you see, if I lived in a tree I wouldn't have this problem). The floor is really very comfortable, but there's kind of a stigma about sleeping on the floor. In the house in Gardner, I used to routinely sleep on the floor in the walk-in closet because from there I could hear the alarm go off, it was warm and quiet, yet The Hub wouldn't have to worrry about stepping on me when he got up in the middle of the night. I was also safe from the curious noses of Winston and Vio-Kitty, the cat we had at the time.

Sometimes, I would forget that this wasn't, strictly speaking, normal behavior and say something at a party or to a co-worker about "sleeping in the closet" which would lead to me get startled looks and The Hub getting nasty ones - as if he were some abuser who stuffed me in there or something.

Now, at least, if I sleep on the floor the dog is relatively used to it. He came out into the living room and found me by the fireplace under a comforter at about 4:00 a.m. He stood there with a reflective look on his face then came over and thoroughly sniffed me, up one side and down the other. Satisfied that I wasn't hurt, he just lay down contentedly beside me with a look that seemed to say "Oh. We're sleepin' in the living room now. Cool."

Then The Hub turned off the alarm clock in his sleep, and Winston is certainly not going to wake up early, so I was late for my hair appointment this morning. So, what I need is a large, energetic dog who looks mean, but isn't really, who wants to get up early and would get along with a mastiff.

Or...maybe I'll re-think the whole thing when I've had more than 4 hours of sleep.