About Communicating
Ruthal Moore of the "ladies who lunch," the one in charge of the puzzle, told me today to go by her house to see her rhododendrons. " So beautiful," she told me.
So after lunch and after my nap (I'm old, I take a nap) I asked Don if he would like to go with me for an "adventure." Yes, he would go, he said, and I told him that also, we would take Blaze, the golden retriever who hates the car because every time he gets into the car, he ends up at the vets, and he also hates the vet.
I will take him on little rides, I had decided, and then get out and walk awhile to a new place, so that he will learn to love riding in the car. We would all go and he would have an "adventure" too.
"So I will start out with Blaze," I told Don," and we will walk for about 15 minutes down the road, and then you pick us up for the rest of the trip. We will make the loop around and through Spring Creek, go for the surprise and then finish the loop to be home." Okay? Good idea? I felt that we were clear.
As Blaze and I passed the house walking down the road, Don yelled out from the porch that he would meet us at the egg lady's. "Okay," I yelled back, "or beyond, if we get farther."
We walked farther than we ever have before and past the egg lady's pretty farm which we could observe from the road, and we kept on walking until after three cars had passed us, Don drove up in his yellow Baja. Blaze didn't want to get in, but I pulled him in, and he went to the front seat. Don started to take off his leash. "Don't take it off this time." He always takes off the leash, he doesn't want the dog to be tangled in it, but I wanted to control Blaze this time. A reluctant, "Yes dear." We were off.
No, We were not off. Don had decided that as long as we were driving past the egg farm, we should go get the eggs, (fresh, hard shelled, free-range eggs for $1.00 per dozen). He had really meant that we would meet at the egg lady's place.
Since Blaze and I had gone past, as he was already turning the car around and go back, I said that we could just go on and then I could come later for the eggs. No. He had already turned around to drive down a hill into that pretty farm where the egg people were sitting on the porch eating ice cream. Blaze and I got out of the car and went for a sniffing around the edges of the yard, in and out and across the bridge. Blaze was having a fine time. Don got the eggs, had a short visit. We started out again.
"Are you going up that road," I asked him -- a rough rocky road, I never use. "Yes, I am. I go this way so that I don't have to turn around again." "But we are going the other way. If you drive back the way you came in, you will not have to turn around again." He drove up the rocky hill anyway and started driving towards home. "Don, we were going to loop around to see the "adventure." "Well, I thought you wanted to go this way." I'm arguing and realize that he isn't wearing his hearing aid even if the dog weren't crawling from back seat to front seat and all over him. "Okay, I guess we will go this way."
" I know where you are going," he said, " up the gravel road." "No, No," I said, "we are going to loop around through Spring Creek. Just go to Caldwell Mountain Road and turn left."
I'm thinking, why did he have to make it so complicated when all I wanted to do was walk a ways down the road with our dog, have him pick us up and take us for an "adventure" to see Ruthal's rhododendrons. I'm trying to be adaptable so I shut up.
And we drive by. "This is our adventure, seeing Ruthal's rhododendrons," I tell him as we pass three or four huge bushes just popping full of deep pinks and lighter pink flowers. "Aren't they pretty?" " Yes," is all he says.
So we stop for another walk for Blaze up past another farm. He drives beyond us. I had meant for him to stay where he was, so that we could walk back on the other side.
"Now, " I say, as we get back into the car (since I had been in charge of the "adventure") "We could make the loop," I say, "or we could just drive back the way we came." He turns the car around again and drives back the way we came and says nothing. I ask him, " Did you think they were pretty?" "Yes, he says.
We had had our "adventure." We now had another two dozen eggs. Blaze had had a nonthreatening ride in the car plus a walk. We stopped at the camp store to get me an RC. No one spoke to any one. How had we missed understanding what our words had meant to tell the other? Why were we feeling like we didn't want to say anything at all? I went to the computer to write here, and he went to mow the lawn with the riding lawn mower. Blaze went for a drink and a nap and is fine.
So after lunch and after my nap (I'm old, I take a nap) I asked Don if he would like to go with me for an "adventure." Yes, he would go, he said, and I told him that also, we would take Blaze, the golden retriever who hates the car because every time he gets into the car, he ends up at the vets, and he also hates the vet.
I will take him on little rides, I had decided, and then get out and walk awhile to a new place, so that he will learn to love riding in the car. We would all go and he would have an "adventure" too.
"So I will start out with Blaze," I told Don," and we will walk for about 15 minutes down the road, and then you pick us up for the rest of the trip. We will make the loop around and through Spring Creek, go for the surprise and then finish the loop to be home." Okay? Good idea? I felt that we were clear.
As Blaze and I passed the house walking down the road, Don yelled out from the porch that he would meet us at the egg lady's. "Okay," I yelled back, "or beyond, if we get farther."
We walked farther than we ever have before and past the egg lady's pretty farm which we could observe from the road, and we kept on walking until after three cars had passed us, Don drove up in his yellow Baja. Blaze didn't want to get in, but I pulled him in, and he went to the front seat. Don started to take off his leash. "Don't take it off this time." He always takes off the leash, he doesn't want the dog to be tangled in it, but I wanted to control Blaze this time. A reluctant, "Yes dear." We were off.
No, We were not off. Don had decided that as long as we were driving past the egg farm, we should go get the eggs, (fresh, hard shelled, free-range eggs for $1.00 per dozen). He had really meant that we would meet at the egg lady's place.
Since Blaze and I had gone past, as he was already turning the car around and go back, I said that we could just go on and then I could come later for the eggs. No. He had already turned around to drive down a hill into that pretty farm where the egg people were sitting on the porch eating ice cream. Blaze and I got out of the car and went for a sniffing around the edges of the yard, in and out and across the bridge. Blaze was having a fine time. Don got the eggs, had a short visit. We started out again.
"Are you going up that road," I asked him -- a rough rocky road, I never use. "Yes, I am. I go this way so that I don't have to turn around again." "But we are going the other way. If you drive back the way you came in, you will not have to turn around again." He drove up the rocky hill anyway and started driving towards home. "Don, we were going to loop around to see the "adventure." "Well, I thought you wanted to go this way." I'm arguing and realize that he isn't wearing his hearing aid even if the dog weren't crawling from back seat to front seat and all over him. "Okay, I guess we will go this way."
" I know where you are going," he said, " up the gravel road." "No, No," I said, "we are going to loop around through Spring Creek. Just go to Caldwell Mountain Road and turn left."
I'm thinking, why did he have to make it so complicated when all I wanted to do was walk a ways down the road with our dog, have him pick us up and take us for an "adventure" to see Ruthal's rhododendrons. I'm trying to be adaptable so I shut up.
And we drive by. "This is our adventure, seeing Ruthal's rhododendrons," I tell him as we pass three or four huge bushes just popping full of deep pinks and lighter pink flowers. "Aren't they pretty?" " Yes," is all he says.
So we stop for another walk for Blaze up past another farm. He drives beyond us. I had meant for him to stay where he was, so that we could walk back on the other side.
"Now, " I say, as we get back into the car (since I had been in charge of the "adventure") "We could make the loop," I say, "or we could just drive back the way we came." He turns the car around again and drives back the way we came and says nothing. I ask him, " Did you think they were pretty?" "Yes, he says.
We had had our "adventure." We now had another two dozen eggs. Blaze had had a nonthreatening ride in the car plus a walk. We stopped at the camp store to get me an RC. No one spoke to any one. How had we missed understanding what our words had meant to tell the other? Why were we feeling like we didn't want to say anything at all? I went to the computer to write here, and he went to mow the lawn with the riding lawn mower. Blaze went for a drink and a nap and is fine.
posted by Barbara Buttel @ 12:48 PM
0 comments
