“So long as you write, what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say. But to sacrifice a hair of the head of your vision, a shade of your colour, in deference to some Headmaster with a silver pot in his hand or to some professor with a measuring-rod up his sleeve is the most abject treachery.”—Virginia Woolf

Betty Benner notified me of Virginia’s words the other day that were offered on Writer’s Almanac, a good way to start the day, especially if you are interested in reading about writers and their practice. Betty is one of Austin’s gifted poets and an avid reader involved in the community.

Meanwhile, I am attempting to gain some ground with our newest resident Ms. Mellow, who has been an understudy of Casey’s while he was home on winter break. He has listened to Dog Whisperer tapes and functions well as her Alpha guy. Now that he has returned to school, Jeanne has assumed the Alpha job. Mellow responds well with her and then part of the time I am what I call the Omega man. This is about as far as one can get from being the Dog Whisperer.

When I grew up, there was never mention of a dog whisperer or alpha man, and things worked out well, but maybe had there been a dog whisperer, our black Cocker Spaniel would not have been run over nine times in his long life. Then, we lived by the Turtle Creek, and there was a path into the woods that Jack established on his friendly nighttime outings.

Over the years there was a noticeable increase in what I considered to be part black Cocker Spaniels. I suspected Jack’s after hours route was responsible for some of this. I believe he passed on while I was in the service.

I do remember my Dad asked Keith, our neighbor, if wanted to be a pallbearer. And I believe he invited the Unruhs to fly their flag at half mass.

On Sunday, Ms Mellow completed her first walk around the block. She seemed to enjoy the sights and then there times when the Alpha woman slid him along on the ice just ahead of me.

That was the day the article on Martin Zellar showed up on the front page of the variety section of the Star Tribune describing Martin’s musical life and family life in their new home in Mexico. The article includes a nice photo of the Zellar family and one with Martin standing on a corner in their town with daughter Clementine.

It’s the season for caucuses again, but after all that has gone on this past year with the teaming up against one another, with the fighting between parties, I am becoming more inclined to be “apolitical.”

Then there is our own trouble with law enforcement and finding a new fire chief. Perhaps the new law enforcement center will hold some of its own chosen few in custody. I see one of our law enforcement violators is now hoping to pursue the current chief’s position.

And now we have Talkin’ with Tom, an interview with the Mayor, who also worked with law enforcement. Once a month, Tom will take questions. In his first edition Jan. 22 he said: “We want a fire department that runs like our police department”—hummm!

Now that the mild winter January rains have passed through again I can go back to my “Soothing Aloe Relief” for my resurfaced cracks by my thumbnails. The best they felt was last Sunday when I took Alpha Casey back to Wisconsin in a steady rain, and the weather provider’s threats of freezing rain.

The Vikings escaped another battle that could have been set for this coming weekend. Instead, I think maybe Mr. Favre had had enough pounding for the season that he decided ‘no more’ and tossed that pass to the opposing player to set up the victory and justifiably so.