Word of the Day

Degreeorator - A digital thermometer.

I hate it when HTP is right. After watching the weather threaten all morning and then clear up with not a spit of rain, I put on my berry picking hat (this hat also serves as a fishing hat, a dog-walking hat, a gardening hat, a hiking hat and an all-purpose deerfly protection device), and I grabbed my berry bucket and headed up the driveway. As I was heading out the door, HTP says, "Are you sure you want to go out right now? It's going to rain." I snapped back, "It's been doing this all morning, I'm going berry picking." So, off I go. I got almost all the way to the main road when I heard the first faint rumbles. Well...it had done that too so I wasn't worried as I started meandering back down our 1/2 mile driveway, stopping now and then to the berries on from the other side of the driveway on my way back to the house. And it got darker and darker and darker. The rumbles got louder and louder and louder. I continued picking berries because I'd reached one of my favorite spots. But I started thinking, I wonder if HTP might be getting worried. Maybe I should head more directly home at a faster pace. And then...HTP came driving at a rapid pace down the drive. I'd been wondering if he might decide to come looking for me. Yup. He did. Well, I probably would have made it before it started raining too hard...if I hadn't found another good patch of berries that needed picking on my way. As it was, it was HTP to the rescue in a dashing red Navigator. And yes, I'm glad that HTP rescued me. But darn it, I hate it when he's right. Oh well...I can always pick berries again tomorrow.

We've adopted a little white maltese until Saturday. My folks have some errands to run a number of big cities and I told them that we'd Sassy-sit for them. She's a cute little thing. "No Tribble at All!" and all I have to do is make sure that my dogs don't eat all her food while she's not looking. My dogs are chow hounds. They'd eat until they popped if I wasn't careful.

Murphyism of the Day

Blair's Observation

The best laid plans of mice and men are usually about equal.