Jim took this great photo of Charlie in the woods in the middle of a bike ride. If you look closely, you can see that they got caught in some rain -- see the rain drops on Charlie's sweatshirt?
The issue of Charlie denting the trunk of our neighbor's car during Tuesday's fast rush out the door was resolved with a knock, a cheque, and a conversation with a bit of 'who's on first' humor (to those of use in the know) as we sought to explain that Charlie had hit their car and with his head. 'Well thank goodness he was wearing his helmet!' 'Um, he wasn't riding his bike when hit your car, so very sorry.' [Puzzled look from neighbor, who used to go to work carrying a lunchpail and retired shortly after we moved into our house in 2003.] 'He hit his head on the car.' 'His head! Is he all right?' 'Um, well, Charlie does this, I mean he's head-banged for a lot of years, um, he has something going on with his brain, it's kind of like seizures but he doesn't have seizures.' 'With his head? But those were big dents.'
(Well, actually, think Jim and I, they weren't really as big as some others, ahem.)
'Is he all right?' 'Um, yes' (depending on what circumstances are in question....)
Charlie is still more anxious than not, though his Tuesday had a nicely peaceful end. We went all three of us on a night walk and then Charlie brought down his blue fleece blanket and put it in front of the washing machine. It was wet and he endured waiting through the 40 minutes of washing machine time and the 30 minutes of dry-time (at the HIGH POWER setting). I had bought a bunch of peaches for a fruit crisp and peeled and sliced them -- watching me being active with such activities seems to help keep Charlie preoccupied. We used his timer for the last half-hour of waiting for the blanket to be washed and then I made his bed, spreading the blue (and still warm) blanket out and he smiled a lot and tucked himself in. He asked for a last-minute box of crackers and I found these beside him after I went to turn out the light after he was asleep.
Just after 4am on Wednesday, he woke up, still sniffling but cheery. He had some breakfast and waited around and at 5.15am we went on a pleasant walk.
He brought up a case of sodas from the basement, took a furtive look at me, and began opening each, taking a small sip and pouring them down the drain. On another trip to the basement he could be heard rooting around in the boxes and then there was a smash: We thought we had gotten all the glass objects out of this house but Charlie seems able to smell glass as he used to cassette tapes and I found a large flower vase in bits all over the basement floor, and a blue cloisonné vase unwrapped and standing at attention by the washing machine.
Yeah, bull in a china shop (and Charlie is a Taurus and born in the year of the ox, I kid you not.)
I don't miss the vase (I had forgotten it was in the basement to begin with -- not a family heirloom -- we don't have any, besides our boy and Jim's books). Charlie seems to have these dumping/smashing episodes when (1) he is sick and (2) he is anxious.
So good thing this is a superfast trip to California (Saturday night to early Monday morning).
And I got my cousin a box of silverware for her wedding. Something you can use everyday and not liable to break when thrown.
The peaches, with some berries, are baking right now and it's starting to smell good.