On white decor, deaf dogs, and a folly-challenged blog

I’m taking a lesson from my wise friend Andrew and decided not to wait for something clever to pop into my head before I wrote a blog post.

Just write, he said. So that’s what I’m doing. Just writing.

(The advantage of this is that if you don’t like the result, blame Andrew.)

It’s 25° as I’m writing this and we haven’t seen temps on this side of 0 for some time. Lord knows when we will again, so I should be outside. Only my jacket is in the dryer right now, so there you go.

This is what happens when you buy a white coat — this is my smaller coat, not the huge quilt I showed you in my previous post. This one is more like a ski jacket, very lightweight but waterproof and windproof and surprisingly warm. It’s also white, because I have a thing for white coats.

That reminds me. There was a new alto in choir last Wednesday. She just moved into the area and was telling me how hard it was to find a house to buy. They looked at seven in their price range and one was really, really nice, but it had white carpeting in the dining room. So they went with a different house that wasn’t as nice, but at least it didn’t have white carpeting.

This led to a discussion among the altos and a couple second sopranos as to what sort of person chooses white carpeting for a dining room. The general consensus was that it was a childless couple with no pets. “And they only drink white wine,” I added.

Though really, it goes without saying. Only Pinot Grigio goes with white carpeting.

I used to have a white couch. It was a beautiful couch. I loved it very much. Then we sat on it. It wasn’t white anymore. But man, for those first 15 minutes? It was gorgeous.

One of the second sopranos said people who choose white decor are delusional. “Do they think it’s going to stay that way? They’re insane!”

I disagreed with her, but I kept it to myself. You just never know with second sopranos. They look harmless enough, but they can be feisty.

I think white decor enthusiasts know exactly what they’re doing. They know it will show dirt. It’s kinda the point. They want to know when it’s dirty so they can clean it. Such is their dedication to cleanliness.

And I am right there with them, too. Boy howdy. Totally with them. If I lived all alone, that is. And didn’t live in a slushy area. And have a black cat. Or drink red wine.

Like, ever.

white couch
Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash

Yeah. Totally there.

Gah, I just had to let Dog out for the second time. She paws at the back door to be let out, then she walks around to the front of the house to be let in, waits five minutes and then paws at the back door again. Pretty sure she wants a walk.

What I should do is grab my coat and take her outside, but, you know, it’s in the dryer. And my other coat is way too warm for 25°.

The annoying thing is that the whole time Dog is outside, and I’m meaning the whole time, Merricat, who is not allowed outside, meows. On and on and on, she meows. And she doesn’t stop until Dog comes back inside.

Merricat in window

Oh dang, I just missed Dog at the front door. When I got to the door she had already turned around and was walking away.

She’s pretty much deaf now, so the only way I can get her attention is by throwing something at her.

Snowballs work, but I’ve got lousy aim. So now I have to wait until she’s facing me again. While Merricat sings the song of her people.

Don’t you wonder about dogs when they go deaf? I mean, they don’t know they’re deaf right? So they’re probably wondering why we’re not talking to them anymore.

Or maybe they feel bad for us. “Oh, my poor human. Her mouth is moving but no sound is coming out. I wonder if she knows?”

Dog

You know what I think my problem is? (I’m off the topic of deaf dogs now, she’s back inside.) This is regarding coming up with ideas on what to write.

I think it has to do with my title, Feeding on Folly. It’s hemmed me in. Fact is, I’m not seeing a whole lot of folly nowadays.

There was a time when folly was all around me. Working at a high school in an affluent area, people taking themselves too seriously, taking their jobs too seriously, taking everything too seriously. Especially the secretary who worked right across from me, the one who left anonymous notes in the breakroom regarding coffee cups she never used. Man, she supplied me with countless example of folly.

But now, working at a convent? There’s a woeful lack of folly. It’s weird, but of all people who probably have a right to take themselves seriously, nuns don’t.

chapel at convent
Sacred Heart Chapel (just down the hall from my office)

By the way, did you know they’re not technically nuns? Technically speaking, nuns live in a cloistered community. If they work outside the convent as teachers or nurses or whatever, they are sisters. All nuns are sisters, but not all sisters are nuns.

Fascinating, don’t you think?

Not that it matters much. One of the sisters told me most Catholics don’t know the difference either, so they don’t worry about it. If people call them nuns, they just roll with it.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, a lack of folly. What to do, what to do…

Here’s some ideas:

  1. Write about the convent, what it’s like to work there, what I encounter and such, keeping in mind very little of it is folly-related. OR,
  2. Now that I no longer work at the school and there can be no repercussions, really let loose on the folly I witnessed there. OR,
  3. Alternate between the two, cause why not? OR,
  4. Write whatever the hell I want. Folly or not.

You know, this is about the time we should start questioning Andrew’s wisdom, but maybe he was on to something. (We probably shouldn’t tell him that, though. He’s a nice guy and we don’t want him to get a big head.)

Oh hey, my coat is dry and oooh, it’s so white and clean! Guess I’ll be taking Dog for a walk after all.

Okay, so that’s it for this post. Stay tuned til next week when we’ll be talking about nuns… I mean, sisters… or my folly-filled memories, or whatever the hell I want.

Keep it real, friends.

Author: CJ Hartwell

After spending most of her life in Phoenix, Arizona, CJ Hartwell moved to the middle of Minnesota. Is she nuts? Probably. For updates on her sanity, click on the link to follow by email.

55 thoughts on “On white decor, deaf dogs, and a folly-challenged blog”

  1. Every once in awhile, I play a concert requiring me to wear a white shirt. It always presents a dilemma because every white shirt I have has yellowed (bleach ain’t what it’s cracked up to be). So now I wear an unbleached muslin shirt when it says “white shirt” for concert dress. This is concert dress for more casual (POPS style) concerts anyway.

    More formal (and typical) concert dress is all black, which promptly gets covered with my Jack Russell Terriers white hair. Life is sometimes black and white for French Horn players.

    (I thought I should comment in the “just start writing” style of this entry. I could go on for pages but believe it would be prudent to stop now. Besides, I really need to finish my taxes, speaking of which …)

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    1. There’s a Chico’s in the mall here and in the window was a white shirt with a sign that says “Finally! A stain-proof, wrinkle-proof shirt!”
      I should have checked to see how much it was, but I was too distracted by the memory of an old movie with Alec Guinness, where he invents a white fabric that’s stain-proof and wrinkle-proof. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it, but I know it ended badly for him.
      All this is to say, if you’re looking for a new shirt, check out Chico’s. Only I beg of you, proceed with caution. 😉

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        1. I just checked their site — it’s $79.50. Definitely pricey! Also they’re careful with how they word it: “stain-resistant” rather than stain-proof.
          Well, heck. You could probably get that with a can of Scotch-guard.

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  3. Well, thanks for the mention. A couple of points though: I didn’t think altos were allowed to talk to sopranos (guess it’s okay if they second sopranos, but altos wouldn’t talk to the soprano soloist). About white carpet – just after I moved to my house (20 years ago) I decided that the brown rug in the living room should be professionally cleaned. Three minutes after the guy started the steam clear he said, “I don’t think this is a brown rug, might be beige.” Later that month I purchased new carpets.

    and a white coat? There’s your folly right there. Kind of self generating really. I’ve known a few sisters (well now that I know they weren’t nuns) and they had plenty of folly, but seemed fine with it, which made it difficult to write about as it just seemed normal.

    So keep not thinking. wait, that doesn’t sound right …

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    1. I had to mention you, Andrew. Someone had to take the fall if it didn’t work out. (Seriously though, thanks for getting me out of my head. I needed that.)
      As for altos, we can do whatever we want to do, capiche? And yeah, usually we don’t want to talk to sopranos. We’ll make an exception for seconds though because they’re alto-wannabes.
      On to your carpet story: Eww! Though now that you bring it up, I wonder if there’s a carpet cleaner with a tell-all blog? Wouldn’t that be great? I bet they see some pretty interesting and mildly horrific stuff on their job. Plenty of “ew” factor.

      And hey, don’t knock the white coat. Around here it’s camouflage!

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      1. I take blame well. 😉 . My wife is an alto, I know all about your section. I think my first words to the carpet cleaner were, “Just burn it.” White? Oh, snow is white. Got it. Frozen water falling from the sky – weird concept.

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    1. I had a (sort-of) white bedroom in Phoenix, I loved it! The flooring was a dark wood laminate and the walls were a hint of grey. The trim, furniture and all bedding was white, and I found this big shaggy white rug for the floor. It was beautiful.

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  6. “All nuns are sisters, but not all sisters are nuns.” Thanks for the clarification 🙂 and for the mental venn diagram that looks like the eye of a very angry dog – circle with another circle pat in the middle 🙂 Laughed and smiled through the post…and I needed just that.

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  7. All four possibilities are good for your future posts. Really, though, you should be rethinking this camouflage thing. What if you get buried in a snow drift?! No one will know you’re there. Big problemo!!

    Now the deaf dog – that is just too funny!! Poor Mom is trying to talk and nothing comes out. 😂😂😂😂

    And I loved white clothes until my mom started making me wash my own clothes. Hmm. Dark colors looking pretty good!

    Carpeting in dining rooms?????

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    2. Must admit, I missed the grossness potential of carpeting in a dining room altogether. Surely they just didn’t use their dining room, right? Maybe they just used the table to assemble jigsaw puzzles.

      I see your point with my camo gear, but even so, I like blending in to the elements. Tell ya what, if I hear a snow plow coming my way, I’ll be sure bring a red handkerchief for signaling in case they bury me.

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  8. I love this kind of post and conversation. When I run with a friend we will ramble from topic to topic like this. Pure joy! Oh, I bought a white puffy jacket, only because I found it at Goodwill for cheap. Otherwise, no white clothes except white race tshirts. Going to check out your post about the woman at school who left notes.

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  9. I know what you mean about being a bit limited in writing due to your blog title. I used to have that problem. So I changed my blog’s name to be Untitled Press. But then I couldnt get anything done in life, that I closed that blog. When I decided to go back to writing again, the title Untitled Press was taken and even UP2! So I decided to do an acronym like thing and made up my current title. Hope nobody asks me about sandy shores or moose-hunting, though.

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    1. I had a heck of a time finding a name for my blog, it seemed like anything I came up with was taken. And usually by defunct blogs! So when I finally stumbled upon this one, I snagged it fast.
      Yours is cool, like a west coast radio station. 🙂

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  10. Great post! I enjoyed your just-writing. 🙂 My former mother-in-law loved white furnishings. It did look wonderful, but my it was a lot of work, even for people with no small children or pets. Btw, club soda, if applied right away and in copious amounts, will take red wine out of a white carpet. Watched my MIL do it and almost couldn’t believe it. I’ve since used this fix a number of times.

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    1. Well, it makes me feel a little better that even people with no little ones have a rough time keeping their whites white. And thanks for the club soda trick — I’m putting it on my list! 👍

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  11. Rumor has it this time of year is prime for white sales. I always wondered why. Aren’t people getting tired of white and looking forward to green?

    What makes a dog go deaf? Too much walk and roll? Do their noses go deaf too?

    I suppose a lifestyle oriented around inner peace would tend to minimize folly. Whereas others, enamored with pinballing from one folly to the next, would think of such an approach as being pure nun sense.

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    1. Sweet mother of God, Dave, how do you do that? I mean, does it take years of study to do all that in one comment, or just one evening of heavy drinking? 😉

      And yes, as a matter of fact, Dog has a great fondness for Heavy Dog Metal. Her favorite band is Canine Inch Nails.

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  12. First, I think I might win the “white carpeting in odd places” sweepstakes challenge that we are not really having: When I first bought this house, there was white carpet IN THE KITCHEN. And it was pristine, nary a noticeable blemish anywhere. This meant the lady I bought it from did not have kids, did not have pets, and apparently never cooked or ate anything, ever. She was probably a vampire and just failed to mention this in the “fair disclosure” section of the contract I signed.

    That kitchen carpeting was gone within seconds of my taking ownership.

    Second, I would love to enjoy more of your spontaneous, no-fixed-destination writing. I apparently went to the same school as Andrew, as 97% of the time I sit down to write with no goal in mind. I let the words do the driving. Granted, this does result in some mishaps that get chunked into the “work on this later” folder, but then that folder becomes a source for those days when my writerly mind is a complete blank….

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    1. Good gravy, who puts carpeting in a kitchen? That’s lunacy! — No wait, I’ve one better — we once had an apartment with carpeting in the bathroom. And we couldn’t do anything about it. So on the one hand, you get out of the shower and ooh, soft and warm floor. But, ewwww, how many people have stood on this and what all did they do and did they aim well?!

      I don’t know what made me think I needed a reason to write before I wrote. Really, I should know better than that. Thank you for the affirmation. I’ll do my utmost to remember it. 👍

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  14. CJ
    I like your folly-cular writing. I think you should write about folly or no folly, whatever. I am sure you have enough words in your head to make folly out of straight stuff too. Sisters and nuns, I think I knew that. For fodder among sisters or nuns, watching the movie ” The Sound of Music” might say otherwise- there was plenty happening in that nunnery.
    I worked at a hospital run by “sisters” and there was much fodder there- mostly related to internal politics and food . Some sisters are good cooks and appear on cooking shows like Chopped( I think) and that is great too.
    I wait for next week’s post anxiously watching out for fodder in my own folly-cular land.
    Susie

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  16. I admire your bravado. Your meandering folly makes more sense than much of what I’ve been reading lately. Note to self, disconnect MSM. You sharing similar weather with my corner of the country seems to have leveled the playing field. I like this write it as I think it thing! But tell the truth, did you edit? Watch out for slush balls, my friend.❄💙

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    1. Well, of course editing was done silly. I tried locking my editor in the basement, but somehow she found a key. Even so, the bones of the post remained, she just tidied up the syntax. 😉

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  17. I love the stream of consciousness, makes one feel like James Joyce. I’ve tried it a few times, woke up the next morning and didn’t understand a dam thing I wrote. that was my folly… jc

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  18. If the only thing stopping me from buying a house I liked was a white carpet – then I think I’d change out the carpet before I’d buy a house I liked less. But I can’t really sing, so maybe I’m missing something here…

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  20. I loved this. The whole dog going out/dog going deaf was hilarious. Never occurred to me that an animal wouldn’t understand they’d gone deaf! As for tales of whiteness; I love colour and could never imagine painting my home white. But in our new home, the previous owners had freshened it up for selling and painted the WHOLE house white. Two years later; it’s still white! I’ve learned to love it, even though you know, red wine, black cat……… Although laminate floors and lots of colour in the furnishings 😉 P.S #4 🙂

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    1. We’re four-ish months here and still white walls, unsure if I’ll change it mainly because I’m too lazy to paint. But colorful throw pillows? That I can handle!
      And thank you for the vote of confidence on #4 🙂

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