Every now and then I stop to read the news
Tonight was “Mambo Italiano”, a sampling of Italian wines at our favorite Friday night haunt.
(picture: snow covered fern pot on our front porch)
Pesky Lawn Care Man ~ Outside window clearing snow ~ I ask you, “How much?” (~ A Pomku ~)
(picture: the pom who wrote the ku)
Fridays should never be “hurry up and wait” days; they should be sampled at leisure, savored like a fine wine.
(picture: our tree behind the house)
Cork dropped a bundle of humor into my mailbox today in the form of some untitled cartoons.
(picture: newly painted stairwell leading to our basement.)
This might be Mattie’s last day.
(picture: our Mattie. This was actually taken in May, but I choose to remember her like this, strong and curious.)
July 1st – a relaxing day.
(picture: sunset the day before my birthday)
Do you ever get the feeling that today is just not your day?
(picture: our 'fridge, with two shelves of tomatoes from our garden. They became sauce the next day. It's an Italian thing.)
This fellow was clinging to our window screen today.
(picture: the bug)
The interview that left O'Reilly speechless.
(Picture: the toad that lived in our garden.)
(picture: old barn at the Christmas Festival)
Gennaker passed away on December 11.
I look back on this year and say, "I need to approach life with more vigor." My writing is not due to the normal "mental blocks" or a hectic schedule. We endured many painful things this year, including the death of two animals who have been my shadows ever since Better Half and I were married. The year's events have taken a toll on me, emotionally and physically.
I take refuge in my husband's love. I throw the ball for our other shepherd, daydream about my garden for next spring, and remind myself that mental ward food tastes terrible.
Besides that, they are going to put in a brand new gas main line and connection lines from it to the houses: 2.2 million dollar project and I simply MUST oversee my lavender. Besides, construction workers are HOT. They should be: this entire area is populated by Italian stallions and corn-fed bulls. Really, Better Half, I just moved here for the moo, I mean, view.
Now I fee cheerful. The thought of Better Half scowling at me in that special "haha you so funny, NOT" way always does that to me.