Rottweilers. Computers. Cameras. World Domination. Not necessarily in that order.
When Dan first planted chrysanthemums, we didn’t realize they were perennials nor that their most beautiful blooms are in the fall, and were kind of puzzled as to why the plants we thought would be flowering all summer were just a big green mass o’ leaves until fall. Now we look forward to the flowers’ return every year in late September or early October. I’ll post another photo when the whole pot is fully in bloom.
(NaBloPoMo | October ’10: 8 of 31)
Yikes, what a mess. I have more than a week’s worth of posts that are somewhere in digital hell. Some didn’t publish on schedule (I’m really bad with scheduling and drafts vs. published posts, so that’s not too surprising) and some seem to be trapped inside my BlackBerry. Sorry to those who read via RSS for the upcoming glut of posts leaving limbo.
Apparently one bad commuting day was not enough. This one started off with my car displaying the low tire pressure indicator light. I am happy it did this in the garage, rather than several miles down the road.
There were several contraptions featuring air hoses scattered about the garage, so fortunately my husband was still home to tell me which one to use (note to self: later, ask if we really need that many things with air hoses). The one I needed was tucked out of plain sight, recharging so it would be ready when we needed it:
The air compressor part of this device solved my immediate problem quickly and my commute was saved for the day. But why didn’t I think of having this thing with me on my out-of-town dog show trips? Especially since some of those were during the dead of winter, when low batteries and low tires definitely have a high chance of happening. This is why I am not the person you want to have around in case of a real emergency; I never think of these things!
(NaBloPoMo | July ’10: 22 of 31)
I want to shoot the whole day down.
I know I risk sounding somewhat psychotic, but that’s how my morning and evening commute made me feel. The parts of the day that didn’t involve the commute were fine. Nothing to write home (or sadly, write here) about, but nothing bad either.
The commute, however, started out in my own alley with a blindingly stupid bitch (human) walking three canines (I don’t know if they were dogs or bitches) singlehandedly causing a traffic jam by my garage. The only time all day that more than two living beings were even in the alley at the same time, and she turns it into a cluster. Good going.
The Cloak of Invisibility was also spread over my car at this time, so once I finally got to the highway, I was apparently invisible to people attempting to merge into traffic. Then once I got to the parking lot, I am behind an even more blindingly stupid individual who doesn’t realize that if she moves her car up just a couple of feet, it’s still approximately where the lot attendant wants it, and then the ass end of my van won’t be blocking the sidewalk and hanging out into traffic. But, no.
The commute home was just as bad. Since the Cloak of Invisibility had not blown off the car yet, two extremely large commercial vehicles, which to my knowledge are not even permitted in the express lines of the highway, seemed blissfully unaware of my existence as they drifted much too close for comfort. It was such a relief to finally get home and see my alley completely free of any human, animal, or inanimate obstacles.
I don’t want to stay negative, but there’s been a lot of sadness lately. I just want to send out some thoughts of love and care and hope to some of my friends who have very recently gone through the losses of some special canine and feline family members. The Rainbow Bridge has just welcomed some much-loved critters and reunited some long-separated pals. It seems so unfair that such wonderful spirits can stay here with us for only such a very short time, and yet we are stuck with some humans who are not wonderful at all for many decades.
(NaBloPoMo | July ’10: 19 of 31)
My muse has gone missing. The Rottweilers swear they did not eat her, but I’m still suspicious. Rottweilers don’t seem to have a problem with consuming totally inappropriate items when given the opportunity. There are no actual signs of muse carnage or overstuffed Rottweiler bellies, so I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt for now.
I’m trying to lure her out of hiding with the usual tactics. My reading choice didn’t appear to inspire her, but on the bright side, I’m now caught up to Chapter 7 of American Gods for #1b1t. As for music, so far she is not liking my teenage tragedy selections, anything from the Glee soundtrack, or some older Foo Fighters stuff.
Now I’m wondering if she left in disgust because her tastes are so different from mine. There are nine muses, right? Hopefully one of them will show up in time for some weekend catch-up!