Separating the Wheat from the Chaff and the Boy from the Poop

It’s a lovely Saturday here on the mountain. Cold with no wind and a crisp layer of snow on the ground.  I suppose it is laughable that we call it a mountain especially to my friends on the west coast but it is ours and we like it.

Today we have done some usual chores, son and G1 are out buying a toy he has saved up for, G2 is sitting quietly and DIL is catching up on some paperwork.  The plan is to go for a family swim later today, something both G1 and G2 love.

Me?  I am rewriting Chapter 2 trying to get into the head of one of my characters.  I have done 2 rewrites on this particular chapter and am not been happy with either.  There is something I am missing but am not quite sure what it is but am confident I will recognize it when I see it.

I have opened my apartment today to the critters of the household who usually reside with the rest of the family.  Jewels, the deaf white is sleeping peacefully on the back of my sofa.  Scout who has been renamed Henry is getting cozy trying out different spots which has included my lap and chest as I try typing.  Bree our yellow is happy anywhere but especially under my desk when I work.

Now Jack our third white who I have previously reported as being foul mooded since the arrival of Henry stalked around here a bit taking the odd swipe at Henry and then left to be near DIL.  Funniest thing is that during any given work day the animals are scattered but when DIL arrives home all, and I do mean all, congregate in the kitchen en masse and then where ever she goes.  DIL is a Dr. Doolittle which suits her profession as Vet Tech.  If you need a pet whisperer of any sort she would be your choice.

Now in addressing the Chaff and the Poop.  It seems G2 who at three is learning to take dominion over parts of his life as he should do, had also decided not to part with the products of certain body functions, which is not unusual in this age group.  This was never a particular problem with G1 who is now eight, although I do recall that at that age he had decided that if the back yard was suitable for the then canine in residence, Scooby, it was good enough for him.  It was an amusing and temporary problem easily solved once we got G1 to identify with the humans in the house rather than the animals.

There doesn’t seem to be an easy solution for the problem at hand but I hope the wee guy gets it straight soon… for his own comfort.

Any suggestions out there from you  experts would be greatly appreciated!

And now a pic of our dear departed Scooby taken in 09 through the back window of the playhouse.

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