A little bit of this, a little bit of that

So on Saturday, skittles and I headed off to Irvine to check out the OC Flyball Winter Games. You can check out information about flyball here (ocregister.com) and here (ocflyball.org). The group describes it as doggie drag racing — 2 teams of 4 dogs and handlers compete to see how quickly each team can have each dog in series jump over a series of obstacles, jump on a special box which ejects a ball and take the ball back across the finish line. Only one dog per team can be across the line at a time and missing or going around obstacles or going over to the other team’s run is grounds for disqualification for the run. From what I saw as well, the competitions are based on the best of 3 runs for each team and the dogs and handlers all get into it. I’ve never heard such a cacophony of barking in my life but it was a lot of fun.

As I was trading emails with someone today, I realized that Flyball can be an illustration of how we go about life:

I think in life there are some of us that are very pleased just to run around with the chew toy and our handler. Some of the dogs at the show looked the happiest when they had a ball or toy they were carrying around.

Some of us just sit on the sidelines and bark at what we feel like barking at or squeal because we can’t get out and play with the others.

Some of us get into the race, jump the obstacles and at the last minute decide that the other ball in the other box looks more interesting and so we’ll go over there, which unfortunately interferes with the other team and gets us disqualified from the race.

And then there’s the few that bound with joy over the obstacles to the goal, jump on the box with glee, grab the ball and race home where the handler’s cheering us on the whole way. Not around the obstacles, but over them, not lackadaisical but with speed and with the joy of just going for it. May we be the team who run the race set out for us well, who hop on the box with glee and go exuberantly back to the Master.

As I’ve been working one of the songs that came across my playlist was John Mayer’s “Love Song for No One” and it struck me as funny because I had lived my life that way for many years. Now, while I’m excited about being in a relationship at some point and being married at some point, I’m not in a hurry to get there and I’m not in a hurry for THEM to get here. I’m an introvert, so I actually _like_ being alone, in my space with nobody intruding on it.

Take your time getting here, I want to finish my book

Yourself is a sad, lonely man who lives on a hill in Siberia. He says it’s somewhat cold, but it’s a dry cold, so much more tolerable. Yourself likes candle-lit dinners and sunset walks on the tundra with his Yak, ‘Yak’. Sometimes when he needs entertainment, he puts acorns in the ice to frustrate the squirrels.

So I’m never making fun of yoga people again, at least not thinking that it’s something wussy…..holy crap, it’s not just the human pretzel, wrap your arm around your torso and hug yourself, there’s a lot of strength and flexibility things they do. I did my first yoga class ever today and it worked me. I’ll probably go back but I felt like a total klutz.

I still have no idea how it really happened, it was crazy. I was making up 2 batches of Nachos, one with chicken, one without. Put them both under the broiler for a few minutes to melt the cheese, opened it up and lo and behold, it was on FIRE. Not your smoldering little bic, mind you….a real jump out of the oven door my biscuit’s a burnin’ fire in my nachos (not the kind you can get in what-happens-in-stays-in vegas, fortunately). The roommate wanted to take it out, but I figured that there’s nothing IN the oven that’s flammable, so let’s deal with it there. Unfortunately it wouldn’t starve, so we had to resort to pouring a saucepan full of water into it to put it out. I guess that’s one way to celebrate the new years… and I was glad I had another pan of the good stuff.