thisendoftheswamp

. . . is not about used car sales.

It poured rain all day yesterday. Sheets of rain, and then it would rain ever HARDER. Golly absolutely refused to step foot off the carport, wandering listlessly from one side to the other. I couldn’t convince the poor puppy that it was actually raining on all three sides. He obviously had to “go”, as he was farting like a tea kettle, but he flat out would NOT step out into the yard.

The Squire opened the van and grabbed an umbrella, which I opened. Golly immediately leapt into the back of the van and refused to come out, not even with treats. I finally had to close the umbrella, just to get him out of the vehicle. I took hold of his leash, dragged him out into the yard, and raised the umbrella again.

The fool dog jumped up and grabbed the umbrella, trying to pull it down and destroy it! I’m five-six, and obviously had the umbrella above my head, so this was a pretty good leap.

We completed our perambulations without the bumbershoot.

This is Golly’s official portrait, taken just before we left the Humane Society. Probably the last time the dear critter sat nicely and smiled for the camera.

So far, he has pulled his run out of the tree, and totally destroyed not only four tennis balls, but managed to yank on his collar hard enough to break the clasp. And took down the clothesline in the process.

And then came inside and chewed up The Squire’s nook.

I was walking Golly around the pond last night and he tried to follow a frog into the water. Mud up to his knees! Where Blazer hated the water, Golly enjoys it.

The Squire went down and bought him a new collar this morning, and I got him another tug-of-war toy. It should come as no surprise that he totally destroyed the first one we bought him.

Oh, Golly, what are we going to do with you?

The Squire has been working on that fallen pine tree off and on, in between rainstorms, cutting the trunk and larger branches into stove lengths, while it laid on its side, sprawled across the lawn.

When we came home from the store the other day, we discovered the silly stump had set itself upright. Apparently, the weight of the roots had balanced out the remaining trunk, and the tree had flipped itself back into position.

I really wish we had seen it happen!

For quite a while the people in my office have been wearing purple on Fridays, in honor of the Ravens. Apparently, this is a big Baltimore tradition. I don’t particularly follow football – I’m a baseball sort of girl – but yesterday morning I dragged out my one and only purple garment, a dress I bought to wear to my sister’s funeral in 2010.

I was the only one who wore purple to the office,

When I asked about this, I was informed that the season is over. “But you did try. Better luck next year.”

As I said, I don’t follow football. I don’t anything orange, so we’ll have to see what happens when the Orioles play.

When I raised the curtain this morning and peered through the rain and mist, I thought somebody – somehow – had pitched a tent in the front yard last night. It took a few moments for the fog to clear, and I realized a tree had fallen over.

Poor Jim had to go out and cut out the top before church. People were simply driving through the tree without slowing down or even trying to swerve around it. He collected two pieces of plastic – what looks to be the back of a mirror, and part of a bumper. I swear, common sense seems to be nonexistent.

This doesn’t answer the question about a tree falling in the forest, because it fell across the road.

Without his hearing aids – which is most of the time – The Squire is as deaf as the proverbial post. A few days ago, he went out to feed the birds without noticing I had not turned off the alarm. Loud enough to disturb people a mile away, and he’s totally oblivious. This morning I put something in the oven and set the timer beside him while I got dressed for work. When I came downstairs, the timer had gone off five minutes ago and was still beeping, to no avail.

I have suggested to him that he treat those hearing aids the way he used to treat his glasses. First thing in the morning, after he’s washed his face, put them in his ears! I just don’t understand. People are willing to wear glasses, which sit on the front of their head for all the world to see, but refuse to wear hearing aids, which hide in your ears, and nobody needs to know about.

Yeesh!

Eldest Daughter came up from Charleston on a flying visit to exchange Christmas gifts, so we decided to meet at the local Waffle House. I don’t know where they recruit their short order cooks, but the fellow who was flipping eggs the other day was a HUNK.

Narrow hips, broad shoulders, and he certainly didn’t get those biceps pouring pancake batter! Oh, my.

He can come cook in my kitchen any time his little heart desires. Even The Squire could understand the appeal, while The Kid and I drooled all over the tabletop.

A friend of mine posted this link, and it is soooo true!

Enjoy!