Pass the milkweed and don't look while I do something

This drill.

When we were little kids, my older brother asked Mom at a restaurant to "pass the sugar and don't look while I do something."

He apparently wanted to sweeten his soft drink.

This story has become famous in Trott family lore, and just last week I basically told my sister the same thing.

I had bought some milkweed seeds that Mom and I planned on planting on Saturday, but if my sister and her husband were around, we might not get very far. They might just do it themselves.

The plan was to use this antique hand drill to make holes in the ground for the seeds because Mom's fingers could not push the seeds into the soil, and while I might have been able to, I am not allowed where the planting would be.

So on Friday, I asked my sister if they'd be around. She immediately became suspicious -- it was as if I asked her to pass the sugar. She relented when she heard we were just planting seeds. But I may be in trouble now by showing the drill.

Friends at my new job

I'd be lying if I said the nostalgia for my old job wasn't still bothering me, but I had my annual review today.

I have two bosses, more or less, so they were both in the review.

The man one, who is new to the agency, said that whenever she is meets with people there and she mentions me, the people are so complimentary. At which point, the other boss said, "No one should be that well-liked."

USA TODAY in my blood

I went to a get-together of past and present folks from the USA TODAY Money section on Friday. It was awesome, and I think that is why I feel so bad.

Everyone seemed so happy to see me. No one asked about Claren ... at least not before asking about me.

It was at a loud bar, and I couldn't hear a lot. It was crowded, too, so I couldn't move easily. But neither bothered me too much. A number of people sat down and talked to me at my level, and people  came to me. It was wonderful.

I know I made the right decision to leave. I love my job and the folks I work with. A lot of the people at the party aren't at USA TODAY anymore either. I know it is very different now, too.

But ...

Optimistic pessimist

A friend at works refers to me as so optimistic and a glass-is-half full type of person.

One could argue that she knows me poorly. 

Perhaps, though, I save my pessimism and sadness for when I am home. Which isn't fair, I realize, but ...

This afternoon, for instance, I was on the floor brushing Claren, and I just tipped over. I decided to just lie there till Mom came over in 30 minutes. As the time got nearer, I decided I should try to get up to prove I could. Only I couldn't. I tried hard and could not get up. That makes you feel like crap.

So does having to get help to change clothes because you get to the bathroom in plenty of time but can't get your pants down.

And there is more, of course. It is at times like these that optimism seems silly. 

Top dog

At one point during Claren's checkup, the vet said something like "Everyone here loves her... They like you, too, but they love her."

As if I didn't know. Ever since I got her, it has been clear that a awesome as Claren is the top dog. (Actually, she's the only dog. I'm a boy.)

Even with a green cone of shame, she is more popular than I am.

Apparently, she's as healthy as any old dog with a rotten liver.