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Yesterday on our walk Porter proved that she's the mistress of the timber bridge. She led the way the whole walk, except when I shortened her leash so she didn't run into the street, and the scary bridge was nothing, NOTHING, to the fearless lead dog--except one noisy semi that sent her racing back to me and one ginormous thorn that made her limp until I plucked it out. We made her stand still for a nanosecond to take her picture with Maggie, her walking pal. Don't they look cute together? They're happy to walk me and Skully whenever we want them to. I get to sleep over at Porter's house this weekend and when DS & DIL1 are in German
March 13--Attributed to Mukunda Painter, Khamma of Amir Khusrau Dihlavi. "The storm winds blew themselves out and all the boats when out on the lake so the king or rajah or whatever he's called could go swimming." This is the dumbest assignment we've ever had in all of fifth grade. Scott squinted at the post Ms. Challe had pinned up on the board and then hunched over his paper again. What did he care what was happening in this picture painted over five hundred years ago? But Ms. Challe was convinced there was a story and they had to guess what it was. "The guy in the white turban and the pink robe sat in the back of the boat trying to show off that he chased the storm away." Yeah, that was good.
So the gutter guys are here, ripping off the old gutters, and then they'll put up new ones with leaf-preventer things over them. We decided I'm getting too old to be climbing ladders in the middle of thunderstorms. *sigh* Will I miss the icy cold water running down my arm into my armpit? Not on your Nellie. I did Wii Fit Yoga, goofed around with downloading a book onto my Kindle (didn't go well), and now I'm doing this daily posting. Soon I'll eat, take a speed shower, and book out of here for the peace and tranquillity of the dive shop, Kindle, iPod and knitting in hand. I know how to spend the day, don't you worry 'bout me.
--Barbara
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