Squirrel!

Scooter the Wonder Dog is a connosieur of squirrels. He sniffs their trails, observes and reports their presence with loud joy, and demonstrates a variety of track and capture techniques ... so far in vain.

He's also the Forrest Gump of dogs. Stupid is as stupid does.

The guys were in the sunroom this morning, enjoying breakfast and Dick Williams' Sunday morning news show. Suddenly, a squirrel appeared on the railing just outside the window. "Scooter! Squirrel!"

Scooter ran to the sunroom, having heard "food" instead of "squirrel." He sat at attention, staring at their plates.

"No, Scooter. Squirrel!" They pointed. His focus on their plates never wavered.

"Mom! There's a squirrel outside and Scooter can't see it."

So, wanting to give the dog an opportunity to bark insanely, I picked up Scooter, turned him to face the blasted squirrel, and said, "Squirrel!"

He looked lovingly up at my face.

"Squirrel! (blasted dog) You love squirrels!"

He squirmed.

I put him down, he ran toward the window outside which the now laughing squirrel perched, did a quick 180, and returned to his post facing the guys and their plates. At this point, the squirrel fell off the railing, in hysterics and eager to post Scooter's embarrassing lack of canine instinct on Squirrel-tube.

Stupid dog.

Lesson: your dog may be madly, passionately, over the top obsessed with squirrels.

But food always comes first.

Good news in a bad-news week.

While mildew winnows its odors throughout the house and we await the judgment of the insurance adjuster, it's good to focus on glad tidings.

Peachtree Charter Middle School made AYP. It's nice to have that federal stamp of approval while we're undergoing Charter renewal.


Dunwoody Nature Center has a delightful new sign. At long last, after struggling through bureaucratic dodgeball over the sign (design, placement, size, and ownership), a friendly new sign directs visitors to the education center within Dunwoody Park. (Kudos to the City of Dunwoody folks who helped us cut the red tape!)

I finished knitting a pair of socks for my mother, to be shipped this weekend to her in North Carolina. I love knitting socks. I love the math, the dexterity of manipulating three and four skinny little doublepointed needles, and the magical way the heel turns, the gusset slopes, and the toe grafts so tidily into place.

Preschool Phonics is flourishing in its new home at Dunwoody Nature Center. Yesterday, I held class in the Playhouse, a huge hit with the children. We worked on centers inside the playhouse, hiked to the Treehouse for a phonics game, then went on a vowel hunt in the park. It's the missing component of the program - integrating physical movement and fresh air into the curriculum.  The children arrive so eager to begin and are showing marked progress in just three short weeks.

I found canned pumpkin! After Cathy Cobbs published her easy-peasy pumpkin bread recipe in the Dunwoody Crier, there was consternation in Dunwoody because the poor pumpkin harvest last year has led to shortages of the canned goods. I love pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin anything, so I'm glad I could stock up for the holidays ahead. (Note to fellow seekers:  Ace Hardware in Dunwoody Village has fresh "pie pumpkins" for sale.)

The Atlanta Knitting Guild is flourishing as it celebrates its 25th anniversary.  Last evening, special guest Candace Eisner Strick had us giggling with her ribald humor and awestruck by her gorgeous designs and yarns. Seems she just put a $12,000 roof on her house and needs to sell many yarn kits. I'm happy to oblige. I wish I had time to take one of her workshops this weekend (there are a few spots still available).

Stitches South was so successful this past summer that they're doing it again in April. I am SO going to be there. I can't wait . . .

I watched a kid dart into traffic on North Peachtree in front of PCMS, crossing the road barely within the green and most definitely before traffic had stopped moving through the intersection. He was grinning maniacally and close enough to one vehicle that one more step would have put him under its wheels. Heart pounding, I leaned on the horn, glared at a group of friends laughing at his antics, and called the school to rat him out. (Yes, I knew his name.) The good news? Bonehead wasn't struck by a car. 

Fall.  The weather has cooled a bit, leaves are beginning to fall, and it's really, really hard to work at a desk when all this outside is around. Fall is my favorite season of the year.

Play the "glad game" with me. Pollyanna had it right.

Here we go again

The Georgia Legislature is teasing Dunwoody once again with the prospect of letting us vote whether or not to form a city. Not too long ago, the motion died in committee. Now the motion is back, this time in a larger arena (way to go, Dan Weber and Fran Millar!).

I've listened to varying opinions among friends and neighbors, responding with a noncommittal "mmm-hmmm." I've followed the news coverage and letters to the editor of the AJC and the Dunwoody Crier. (This particular letter- http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/printedition/2008/03/09/myviewno0309ns.html - just makes me sigh.)

I respect the diverse viewpoints. No one knows if cityhood would prevail with a majority vote, but it would sure be nice to have the opportunity to choose.

My vote? Yes! Let's call ourselves a city and have a greater voice in the quality of life and future of our community.

You know you're in Dunwoody . . .

I'm sure every overachiever community like Dunwoody has its share of quirks. But since this is my habitat, Dunwoody's special flavor is an everyday experience.

Dunwoody is officially an unincorporated part of DeKalb County, an urban metro Atlanta landscape that is really too big to attend to its distinctive communities. I equate our set-up to the area around Boston. Instead of one government body trying to run the entire show, there are a multitude of small towns and villages, each taking care of their own business.

That's what we want for Dunwoody. Only problem is, we're the majority tax base for the rest of the county. They love our money. Hate dealing with us.

Right now, we're trying to become a town. If only the Legislature agrees we should make that choice for ourselves. (They're bogged down in "they don't really know what's good for them - we know ever so much better" discussions at the moment.)

What, in addition to a desire to self-govern, makes Dunwoody special?

• You can't eat ice cream, have a cup of coffee, buy groceries, or pick up a prescription without running into people you know.
• Our town hall is a farmhouse.
  
• Even though rush hour traffic snails its way down two-laned Mt. Vernon Road and Roberts Drive, we are in no hurry to widen the roads. We LIKE slowing people down. Many neighborhoods even have "traffic calming" devices such as speed bumps and road islands to make sure everyone is driving a decorous Southern 25.
  
• If you're stuck on a side street trying to enter Mt. Vernon Road, you can rest assured that someone will slow down and let you into traffic.
  
• One of the busiest places at dinner time is the local Fresh Market, where harried commuters grab gourmet bites and a cup of funky coffee before heading home.
• The Dunwoody Publix has the best outdoor grill around on weekends, stationed right beside the entrance - you can buy tasty hot dogs, hamburgers, and slabs of ribs as you exit the grocery store. The prices are amazing and the food is delicious.
• If you have small children, you can fill their entire week without leaving a five-mile area: preschool, soccer, t-ball, swimming, music lessons, karate, art, playgrounds, doughnut holes, ice cream, Sunday School, and more are right here. As they get older, you can add Cotillion, movies, Youth Group, Scouts, fencing lessons, ALTA tennis, swim team, and more to your daily rounds.
  
• Social calendars have a distinctive Southern twang: Dunwoody Woman's Club, Rotary, Dunwoody Homeowner's Association, Friends of the Dunwoody Library, Dunwoody Preservation Trust, Dunwoody High School Boosters, Dunwoody Country Club, Dunwoody Nature Center, and more are opportunities for civic participation. Depending on your neighborhood, you can add Book Club, Garden Club, Bunko, and Progressive Dinner to your agenda.
• We have our own newspaper. The Dunwoody Crier covers our town with a charming mix of small town news bites (who made the dean's list? who just earned an Eagle?), political discussion, columns by elected representatives, investment advice, historical tidbits, and letters to the editor that are downright entertaining.
  
• We're close enough to Buckhead, midtown, and downtown Atlanta to ease the commute but perched just outside the perimeter to keep a sense of separate identity.

There are also some rather quirky aspects of Dunwoody that make me wonder why the county wouldn't WANT us to take care of ourselves.

Hey, nobody's perfect!

No city for Dunwoody

We received a terse email last week from the head of the Dunwoody Homeowners Association, the closest thing we have to a council. Our long struggle to become a city died in committee thanks to county administration representatives (who don't want to give up their cash cow) and an elected representative (who no one can figure out). This week, the disappointment was front page fodder for the Dunwoody Crier and the Northside edition of the AJC.

Right on, Dick Williams.

I confess to feeling really low about this. There's nothing like someone taking away your right to self-determination.

DISAPPOINTED!

Ah, well.

Back to knitting.