Mood: not sure
Topic: "Change is Good" (5)
Frodo spanked Mick, the Wonder Dog, yesterday. Sam spanked Fiona today. Mr. Beau Neau McKitty bounds down the stairs at a feverish-pace in order to exit any door he hears being opened into his savannah in the Gardens of the Shire. Sydney flies into the living room every time he takes note of workers peering through windows into his aerie in the kitchen. The entire Shire is in disarray, and the curious misbehavior of its inhabitants is a reflection of a change in the regular order of things. Frodo believes fervently that change is good, but there are times when the momentary supercedes the long-term, and one can't help but wish that things were as they have always been.
The entire exterior of Frodo's home is systematically being removed, and replaced by a new, improved, material. That means that for the past three days strange beings have been pounding and ripping all about. Despite the high price, and the definite requirement to continue cutting costs, Sam convinced Frodo that the need was great and that it would help restore the economy. Sam is extremely persuasive.
Mick, the Wonder Dog, ran into trouble because he took note of salsa carelessly set aside by those who had therefore extended him an open invitation to join in their mid-day respite. Despite Frodo's warnings, and the subsequent red and yellow upchuck deposits on Sam's nice carpeting, Mick, the Wonder Dog, continued in the forbidden quest which produced the corporal punishment, duly issued. The chastized look in the eyes of Mick, the Wonder Dog, is not something quickly forgotten.
Fiona decided that since no one was paying her sufficient attention that the opportunity for an unsupervised "walkabout" would never be greater. Besides, she figured, she could hear Sam's call, and would return post haste if so summoned. Unfortunately, she evidently wandered out of earshot, and did not return at any point even close to Sam's expectations. To be punished by Sam is the absolute low point in Fiona's charmed life. Mick, the Wonder Dog, huddled in fear that he, too, might be the object of Sam's furor, for what he might not know, but being close to Fiona at such a point is bound to bring fear into the hearts of creatures, innocent or otherwise.
Beau Neau McKitty is convinced that chipmonkeys and lizards with blue-tails are running amuck in his backyard. He peers through window glass, softly meowing at every perceived movement, as if to plead his case for parole. The workmen however, leave gates wide open, necessarily so, and the danger of a feline on the loose is beyond the comprehension of the Hobbits.
Sydney screams until the entire universe gathers to threaten him with imminent freedom. There is no fury to match the wrath of a caged bird who wants something other than what presently exists.
The work continues for days to come, although most of the banging and ripping has ended. Caulking, painting, and small-trim tasks will eventually bring the project to a close. Until then there will be fitful naps and delayed dinners, each causing a certain amount of consternation in the habits of those whose body clocks run on a schedule unmatched at Grand Central Station or Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. The eyes are everywhere, staring at Frodo, asking why he has permitted the torment of those who call him their friend.
Sigh. Frodo knows how Barack Obama must feel. Maybe he should've run on a platform of keeping things in the middle of the road, instead.