One of my granddogs lives here. Cathie's dog is Chewy, short for Chewbacca Brownie, a chocolate cocker spaniel. (Even her nose is brown.)
But now there is another.... yes, but not Leia or Luke. It is Mister Spock.
Eve and Aaron have adopted a beagle puppy. This video was when he was 11 weeks old. Eve says he is about twice this size, now that he is 18 weeks.
He isn't doing much in this video. But he's being little and cute, which is enough.
This may be the new house. I am not sure. It sure doesn't seem possible it could have been over 7 weeks since they moved. Wow!
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Can you hear me now?
I think I need to start yelling at people.
No, I really hate that idea. It does something to my insides.
I purchased a card to send something to a friend of mind on Tuesday. She lives north of San Francisco. I live north of Nashville, TN, in a rather small town. But we do have a local art gallery. So I bought a card with a reproduction of a watercolor, an autumn scene in Kentucky. Very nice. I talked to the gallery director about the weather (here and in San Francisco), upcoming art shows, and the current requirements for art reproductions for sale.
I wrote a message to my friend inside the card. I labeled and sealed the envelope, and then I waited in line at the post office. There were liberty bell stamps and flag stamps in the vending machine, but I wanted something pretty and different for the card. My friend notices things like that. Thinking of the smile that would be on her face when she saw it made me smile, too.
"Can I help you?" said the woman at the counter, when it was my turn.
"I'd like to mail this card," I said, extending the envelope. "I didn't want to get one of the stamps from the machine. What kind of stamps do you have today?"
She punched a button swiftly, tore off the stamp that popped out, and slapped it on my card. I watched as the envelope disappeared into a slot. She looked back up at me.
"Anything else? You need a book of stamps or anything?" she asked me, obviously unaware I had been saying anything of importance.
"No, nothing," I said. I left.
The woman at the gallery must have better hearing or something.
No, I really hate that idea. It does something to my insides.
I purchased a card to send something to a friend of mind on Tuesday. She lives north of San Francisco. I live north of Nashville, TN, in a rather small town. But we do have a local art gallery. So I bought a card with a reproduction of a watercolor, an autumn scene in Kentucky. Very nice. I talked to the gallery director about the weather (here and in San Francisco), upcoming art shows, and the current requirements for art reproductions for sale.
I wrote a message to my friend inside the card. I labeled and sealed the envelope, and then I waited in line at the post office. There were liberty bell stamps and flag stamps in the vending machine, but I wanted something pretty and different for the card. My friend notices things like that. Thinking of the smile that would be on her face when she saw it made me smile, too.
"Can I help you?" said the woman at the counter, when it was my turn.
"I'd like to mail this card," I said, extending the envelope. "I didn't want to get one of the stamps from the machine. What kind of stamps do you have today?"
She punched a button swiftly, tore off the stamp that popped out, and slapped it on my card. I watched as the envelope disappeared into a slot. She looked back up at me.
"Anything else? You need a book of stamps or anything?" she asked me, obviously unaware I had been saying anything of importance.
"No, nothing," I said. I left.
The woman at the gallery must have better hearing or something.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
