It Was Inevitable

but we are not amused.

Well, okay, amused enough to step outside for a couple of snapshots.

It rained like Noah's deluge throughout the morning. Shortly afternoon it changed to snow. And it snowed, and snowed; and the wind blowed blew and blew.

We didn't even make it through November. But almost!

Rocket Science, 1948

Above the main building on the west side is the parking lot.* It has a gravel surface. It is the scene of an escapade of two boys who shall remain nameless in the interest of protecting any parties who may be in need of such protection.

The boys conceived the idea of building and launching a rocket. The power source was a matter of serious discussion. Having no access to liquified gasses, and the concept of atomic power just now being mastered by Oppenheimer and others, the boys concluded that a solid fuel propellant was required.

But how to obtain the "solid fuel"? Resourceful as these young minds were, it did not take them long to realize that three substances would suffice to provide sufficient force to propel their rocket into suborbital flight. The reader would do well to realize that the V-2 rocket only three or four years before this tale unfolds had been used to attack the British from the European continent. Also realize that it was yet a matter of more than twenty years before anyone launched an orbital foray from Earth.

Stage set, on with the tale. One of the chemicals required was "in stock" in the boys' chemistry set. Another was readily available with a little work around the dregs of a recent "campfire" in their backyard. The third item, however, was not easily accessible, but a little thought brought them to the realization that every drugstore in town had a supply of this magic ingredient. Thus, it being a lazy summer afternoon and with nothing more productive to do, the boys ambled to town and assayed to purchase the item at Walton's Pharmacy. The druggist questioned the boys as to their need of the material, found their answer unsatisfactory, and refused to sell it to them.

Not discouraged, the boys applied what they had learned as they strolled to another drug store a few blocks away. This gave them time to brainstorm the solution to another interrogation. They formulated a brilliant scheme, probably involving such things as "My mother needs it..."
or, "His dad uses it for..."

So we they entered the store, and actually found a half-pint jar of the substance on an open shelf near the rear of the store. They took it to the lady at the cash register who rang up the purchase and for the sum of twenty-nine cents, our heroes were in business, no questions asked.

[to be continued] © 2011 David W. Lacy

*refer to map here, if you need memory refreshed.

V-2 missile development: http://www.centennialofflight.gov/

For God So Loved

"Tell me the old, old story of Jesus and His love." -Katherine Hankey (1866)

Pastor Mark's message is based on John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosover believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

November is missions month and each Sunday a missionary is featured and the sermon is missions-oriented. Missions started in the Heart of God. God is a mission-minded God.
We serve a compassionate God.

The three fundamental truths about God's love.
1. His love is extravagant. He loves us with everlasting, unceasing love.
2. His love is exhaustive. He loves the world. Text, also II Peter 3:9, I Timothy 2:4
3. His love is expressive. He gave His only begotten Son.

Missions work is hard work; requires sacrifice. Why engage in missions?
1. Compassionate act, even as God is compassionate us-ward.
2. Compelling message. Romans 1:14 - 17 The gospel is a distinct, dynamic, particular message; a powerful message.
3. We are a commissioned people. Mark 16:15 - 16. Jesus said, "Go."

And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.

New May Not Be Better

What do you suppose this means? Yes, it means that vanilla got a new computer. After the nine-hour transfer of documents and stuff, he has a new computer he hates.

The new operating system begs the question why is it necessary to rework and jimmie up what already works well? To provide employment for software engineers perhaps. This is maybe a good end-in-itself. For someone, anyway.

Then there is the keypad. I expected it to take some time and practice to get used to the keypad. And time it is taking. Primarily because there is a numeric calculator pad which my old machine did not have, the alpha keyboard is offset to the left of the machine. Thus, I always feel off-center. Oh, dear. Perhaps I am. I always seem to place the fingers, not in home position, but rather om yjod swlstf doyisyopm/

Not to mention the fact that, yes, the data transferred, but I cannot access it. I can find it but can't open it in many cases.

This is going to take some getting-used-to.

Sorry about the photo. It was correctly aligned when it downloaded, but when I transferred it to blogger this is the result. Oh, joy.

THEN I went to publish this post, and nothing happened. javascript void. Had to go to old computer to get this online. Growl.

Oh! Look what Sharkbytes did for me. I used the code she put in the comments. Thanks, Joan. But. To get it to post, I had to copy the code, paste to an email, send to self, open in desktop computer, then copy and paste to blogger. Isn't this fun~ Hmmm. Now how do I smallify it?;

Good Friends, Good Food, Good Day

Thanksgiving Day roses, chez vanilla, Perfect, Indiana,

Black and white dog, and would you believe black and white shoes.

The turkey and all its wonderful gustatory accompaniments have been "put away."

Fun, games, good conversation completed the perfect day!

We are Thankful!

Ellie

5/1/26 - 11/24/98

Thanksgiving Wishes

It is time once again to prep the turkey and dressing. I was advised last year that this bird was much too scrawny to feed the gang, so I kept him on the premises in an attempt to fatten him up for the next Thanksgiving. Clearly, my efforts have failed.

This is one smart old bird. He has figured out that eating just enough for sustenance and the daily chore of obtaining enough provender against the next day, he has a much better chance of survival.
As, I might add, would we all.

He has so frustrated me that I am tempted to wring his scrawny neck purely as the vengeful treatment he so richly deserves. But I won't. May I have another slice of that "tofurkey" please?

I wish you enough. Be thankful.

Doctors, Art and Wearing Out the Car

Between the two of us, we have visited entirely too many doctors' offices in the past sixty days. This is not a plea for sympathy. We get our entertainment where we can find it.

Monday, though, we drove the thirty-five miles to visit a specialist for BBBH. This office is in...
Hospital name on banner over atrium.
(Click on the blue "B" to bigify.)And the interior of the waiting room is shown in the other two photographs. I am not an interior designer, interior decorator, or otherwise involved in selections of decor for any place outside my own home; and BBBH does that

I nominate this as the most hideous waiting room, medical professional category. The design in the carpet, beige on gray, is enough to give the steadiest of individuals a migraine. The odd chair is less an accent piece than it is a nightmare waiting to be dreamt. And the other chairs are nothing to look at, either.

The tiles on the wall are some one's nod to "art" or "decor" or whatever. Pretty stark, overall. I do not know if this was chosen by medical staff, or if it is standard "hospital" selection. I'm guessing the latter, for the people in the office all seemed normal.

As you read this, we are taking or have taken the thirty-five mile journey yet again, as we did Monday and the previous Thursday, for I am getting a 60 thousand mile, I mean 60 day checkup on the plastic surgery. Sigh.

November 22, 1963

November 22, 1963. The very thought of the date evokes a string of memories surrounding the assassination of a young and very popular United States President, John F. Kennedy (Profiles in Courage).

It is of some interest that on the very same day two other personages of considerable fame and influence passed from this mortal coil. These men were Aldous Huxley (Brave New World, Point Counterpoint) and C.S. Lewis (Chronicles of Narnia, Mere Christianity).

John F. "Jack" Kennedy 1917 - 1963 Writer, Politician, President, Died too young

Aldous L. Huxley 1894 - 1963 Novelist, Philosopher, Essayist, Dramatist, Poet

Clive S. "Jack" Lewis 1898 - 1963 Novelist, Philosopher, Christian apologist, Professor

Snake! #T

A while back, my sister related to me that they had had a snake on the premises. I wrote the following to her.

"Seeing your snake yesterday prompts me to ask you if you remember Dad's story about killing Uncle Chris's bull snake?

Dad, of course, growing up on the High Plains, had an aversion to snakes, because rattlers were everywhere. One day while living in Scott County, Virginia, he went to the corncrib. Snake! which he killed. Uncle Chris was quite upset, for it seems the snake was a pet, and moreover a working member of the family, for it kept the rat population under control.

Once upon a time when I had the little Volkswagen camper, we were traveling through Nebraska. On a dirt sideroad there appeared in front of us a very large bull snake. I pulled up very close to it, but did not run over it, waiting for it to clear the road. It, however, was annoyed at our presence, turned and struck at the front tire. I was watching, head out the window. He bounced pretty good, but struck again before slithering off! Yours for snake-free living." End of note to Vee. This is the rest of the story.

Many miles down the road, but still in Nebraska there lived at that time my Uncle Ellis and Aunt Velma. Naturally we stopped there for a visit. During the course of an evening, the snake story was related. This got Uncle going on snakes in Eastern Colorado back in the old days.

Uncle Ellis was, of the eight Lacy brothers, closest to my father in age. Thus as boys their exploits often involved both, or one might say mischief multiplied itself when they worked together. Anyway, Uncle regaled me with stories of Delbert (that would be "Dad") grasping rattlesnakes by the tail, shaking them to straighten them, and snapping their heads off.

On my next visit to the male parental unit, I confronted him with this tale. "Pshaw," he said. "Ellis always was one to embellish a tale. It only happened once, and it was a bull snake, not a rattlesnake."

Well, whatever. It was a snake, wasn't it?

Image, texassnakes.net

Salvation to the Gentiles

Preacher Joe
Acts 10:1-6 There was a certain man in Caesarea called Cornelius, a centurion of the band called the Italian band, a devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway. (More)

Cornelius is a very important character in the Bible.
1. God has chosen to use man to demonstrate the need to turn completely to Christ. The Angel could have told Cornelius, but God uses a man to communicate the message.
2. God will orchestrate the opportunity to communicate the message. II Corinthians 5:20 Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.3. God does not look at any man as unable to receive the grace of Jesus Christ.

Cornelius was the first non-Jew to be saved. The door is opened to gentiles. Acts 10:45 The Jews were "astonished" i.e., "out of their minds" in amazement.

God gives privilege and responsibility: the privilege of membership in God's family (I am a child of God); the responsibility to carry the message of hope and salvation to others.

II Peter 3:9 The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

Earning My Keep

Here's the map again. I call your attention to the area immediately surrounding the red brick school building. On the east side, the area labelled "5" is all lawn, enclosed on the south and east sides by road, on the north side by a lilac hedge, and on the west by the building itself.

Also, there is lawn to the west of the building, enclosed by a fairly high wall on the west side and by lesser walls on the south and north sides, because of the slope of the terrain. These two pieces of land, then, is what I mean when I refer to "the lawn."

My summer job on the premises was to mow the lawn. This was during the years I was 12 and 13. I don't recall for sure whether or not I started when I was 11. Anyway, for this task, remember heavy, steel-framed reel-type push mower, I received the munificent stipend of twenty-five cents, U.S. Yes, one shiny quarter!

What could be obtained for a quarter? The price of Mechanix Illustrated was fifteen cents. That was a monthly expense. A bottle of pop was a nickel, as was a full-size candy bar, bigger than you get for a buck these days. Clausen's used book store consumed much of my time and financial resources. Good titles and interesting reading could often be obtained for ten to twenty-five cents, though occasionally one had to ask Mr. C to put a title back while he saved up enough to cover the 75 cents or a dollar. Used comic books at Sol's were usually a nickel apiece, six for a quarter. New titles were a dime, and avoided because of the profligacy of spending enough to get two books in order to get one. Moreover, if one didn't damage them too severely, they could be exchanged, three for one.

Now focus on the "gravel parking lot" in front of Building #9. Should I gain sufficient courage to do so, I may in a few days relate a story, the culmination of which is set in this lot.

Walter Tell

Turtle duck turtle duck turtle duck duck duck!

We all recognize instantly the phrase from The William Tell Overture. But this article is not about opera, or music, or Rossini.

Today, if our legends are to be trusted implicitly, is the 704th anniversary of the famous cross-bow shot in Switzerland by one William Tell. It is a story that casts William Tell as a larger-than-life hero. I am of the opinion, however, that the real hero to be memorialized on this date is Tell's son, Walter. In case you need to brush up on your fifth-grade lessons, Tell refused to salute the hat raised on a pole which represented the Habsburg authority in Altdorf. Gessler, Austrian ruler of the dorf, was a harsh and unforgiving despot. He had Tell arrested, and because of Tell's fame as an archer, he required that Tell shoot an apple from his son's head, or both would be executed.

My father never earned any medals for it, because he never entered any competitions. But he had a clear eye and a steady hand which enabled him to be a crack marksman with a rifle. Prior to hunting season each year, we would go to the range to "sight in" the rifles. I have seen him shoot, and he was good. And yet. And yet I think that to persuade me to stand before him with an apple on my head-- oh, no. No, thank you very much. And thus I nominate Walter Tell as the hero of the tale to this point.

At any rate, Tell's shot cleanly split the apple. This is pretty much the end of the school-child tale as I recall it from my ten-year old experience. But Gessler had noted that Tell had taken two bolts from his quiver prior to the shot, so he asked, Why the second bolt? Tell replied had he killed his son, he would have put the second bolt through Gessler himself. Irate, Gessler had Tell arrested. One might like to read the rest of the tale, for it ultimately cost Gessler his life, and forever immortalized William Tell as a Swiss Hero.

Indiana Fall in Black and White

A long time ago, another time, but in this place, I shot a lot of black and white film. I processed the pictures myself. I never got really good at photography, but occasionally I got lucky and came up with a decent picture. This one has long been a favorite of mine. It serves here as a header to "Indiana Fall in Black and White."

This was the vechicle which I drove back and forth to work. It is already twenty-six years old at the time this picture was taken.

Hangers-on. The leaves don't all fall at once.

Hmmm. If we rake now, we'll have to rake again. Decisions, decisions.

Falling leaves. Serendipity, for one cannot simply "order" the leaves to fall in front of the lens.

My daughter's car in the driveway. If you can identify it you are a true "car geek."

Two gables. Jerkinhead gable; straight gable.

Sixth Grade Party Protracted

August, 1959. I walked into my classroom in an old school house in Brown Township. For the very first time, I walked into a classroom as the teacher, the teacher of the twenty-four sixth graders who would presently fill the seats in front of me.

November, 2011. I have been invited to a dinner party at a home in a village about fifty miles from my residence. Of course BBBH and I will be there, for the invitation came from one of the ladies who had been a student in that class fifty-two years ago.

The hostess, Sherry, had invited some of the other students whom I had taught at Brown Township School. Present at this wonderful reunion were Gloria, as I knew her, who is now called "Jeanie" and her husband, Craig; Jan and her husband, Dennis; Kathy; and Sherry. My spouse and I completed the group.

Sherry had prepared a wonderful meal which was enjoyed with much gusto! Kathy provided a marvelous dessert, two desserts, actually; and naturally I had some of each.

The catching-up, the tales of children, grandchildren, achievements, "what ever happened to" went on well into the evening. But we eventually had to take our departure. After all, we had an hour's drive to get home. And we really aren't as young as we used to be!

Skunky Prequel

Yesterday we shot the skunk. We retrieved a shovel from the shed and interred the carcass below the ditch bank. We went home and related the evening's doings. Which reminded Dad of his youth, and so he regaled us with stories from the "early days" on the high plains.

The most memorable account of the evening was a tale concerning Dad and his brother, Carl checking their live traps before going to school. One of the traps contained a skunk, so Carl opened the gate and the critter crawled out. But instead of running off, it stood its ground. The boys knew that so long as the skunk did not have its forefeet planted that it could not spray them, so Carl quickly grabbed the animal by the tail and hoisted it into the air. They went merrily along the way, thinking it might be fun to release the beastie in the school yard.

But of course to get out of the field and onto the road, they had to go through a four-strand barbwire fence. "You go on through," said Carl, "and I'll hand him to ya." So Delbert crawled through the fence. Carl lifted the skunk to pass it over, but as Delbert reached for it, the skunk grabbed the top wire with its front paws. And Carl was the recipient of the angry animal's expression of displeasure!

Chicken Thief #T

Our last visit to the neighborhood involved the egg gathering and the milking lesson. Today, we will focus on the same vicinity. Just below the chicken house (12) there is a little drainage ditch which goes through a twelve-inch culvert under the road. We had been losing some chickens to some feral culprit, the most likely guess being a skunk.

One evening while my mother's Aunt Bessie and her family were visiting us, there arose a clamor in the hen house. Dad said I should get the .25-20 down and take care of the situation. So mother's cousin, Phil, and I headed up the hill to the scene of the supposed carnage. Not that it makes any difference to the story, but though he was my mother's first cousin, Phil was a year younger than I.

Anyway, as we arrived at the henhouse, there ran from beneath it a critter. It headed down the hill and dived into the culvert. It was a skunk. I lay down in the ditch and shined the light into the tunnel. Placing the barrel of the rifle in the culvert, I pulled the trigger. It was a direct hit: in fact, it would have been impossible to miss. We got a length of bob warr from the shed, stuck it in the pipe, twisted it into the carcass, which we retrieved. The wound in the side was big as my hand (remember we are talking twelve-year old kid here).


This resolved the chicken-theft problem. Fifty years later, Phil was visiting me in Indiana and said, "Do you remember the night you shot the skunk?" Well, yes; but I probably hadn't thought of it in many decades.

Postprandial Productivity

Pretty pal, Joann, picked pears from her property, put them in a poke and plopped them in our pantry. Preparing pears, spouse peeled and I pared and parted them into pieces, put them in a pot.

Sparing details, we processed them and packed them into jars, part of them pints, and part quarts. Lids !pinged!; we are pleased. Partaking of pears later will be a pleasure.

Picked and packed a peck of pears. Pleasing productivity.

Vanilla and BBBH: What a pear pare pair!

11th Hour, 11th Day, 11th Month

In previous years I have written about Armistice Day, and Veterans' Day. The important thing today is to remember that our past is filled with heroes who made our present possible. Remember them, honor them, particularly those who in service to their country defended our freedoms, many of them giving their all.

At 11:00 A.M. I will be on the courthouse square, along with as many of my fellow citizens who will brave the elements for a brief ceremony honoring those who served in the Armed Forces. The local high school will have a contingent from the band to provide patriotic mu

sic. It does my heart good to see that the next generation is learning about their past, and it ge

nerates hope within me that our future will be bright!

Update: We assembled on the courthouse lawn.

The Tipton High School band plays.

Judge Jack Richter honors Veterans.

Riflemen, 21-gun salute.

Trip to the City

This. This is one of Beautiful's favorite places. Anywhere. You may take my word for it, you really don't want to stop here with her. Unless of course you've nothing planned or hoped for for the rest of the day. Seriously. She. Will. Not. Leave. Until she is ready, and who knows when that will be?










Some women, I am told, can spend hours in a boutique or shoe outlet. Not BBBH. She wants to be in the home improvement store. (An antique shop will also serve on occasion.)






Then should you pass this place after she has finally decided to leave the Big Box, you can plan on stopping again. The blessing here is that you get to wait in the car. Watching the ladies entering and leaving this establishment makes you hope, fervently hope, that the store has an abundant "supply" of "beauty" for it is much needed. Well, except in the case of BBBH, who, well, er, ah-- I seem to have dug myself into a hole here.



Always have a camera at hand, for one never knows when he may hap upon a train wreck. I most assuredly assure you that no matter what business I might be engaged in, I would not spend my neon budget in this manner.

Shucks, pleasant aromas wafting from a bakery or eating establishment can be quite enticing. But this sign evokes, well olfactory "images" that are not necessarily appetizing.

Let the aroma advertise for you. Spend your neon money on, say, an "OPEN" sign.

Picture Box

Pawing around in the loose pictures box yields not only images, but memories. This may be the principal reason for taking photos and snapshots of people. The examples here were taken in the fall prior to our marriage in February. The little lady checking her watch there in the kitchen may have wondered why I had yet to arrive. Well, as you can see, the refrigerator has morphed into a Dodge Caravan, against which I am leaning. I am enjoying a beautiful fall evening and who knows what I am thinking? I don't even remember.

This may have been the very evening during which she asked me to marry her. At any rate, it is all the beginning of something good, something exciting, and so far, something lasting.
Might I say it is all good? I might, but is there such a thing as any marital relationship in which it is all good? In this instance, it started out good and just gets better and better!

To Decorate, and When; or Not

He won't be squawking about this, or anything else, after the twenty-third.

When should the Christmas decor go up? There are about as many opinions on this as there are households that celebrate Christmas. My sister commented the other day to the effect that too early and too long were both wrong. A niece commented that they were putting up their trees and decor as they removed the Halloween stuff. Also, she indicated that her Hubs required it to stay up until the end of February. Yes, I see that, what with the veritable fortune they have invested in the decorations.

I rather leaned, at least while my kids were still at home, to putting up the tree on Christmas Eve and removing it on January sixth. I am leaning now, strongly leaning now, toward no decoration at all, save possibly one eighteen-inch tree on a table in the entryway.

We'll see how that goes over with the Missus.

What is your tradition in this regard, or your preference if you don't follow a specific routine?

Collateral Reading
Yesterday I read an article by Marybeth Hicks which is well-worth the time, probably three minutes, it takes to read it. I have posted it over on Retrotechnocracy.
In this article, Ms. Hicks deals with five things she believes mothers should have taught their children who are now involved in the OWS fiasco.

1. Life isn't fair
2. Nothing is "free"
3. Your word is your bond
4. A protest is not a party
5. There are reasons you haven't found jobs

Fortunately,

these ads won't be published again. My friend, Larry, sent me a collection of old advertisements that he asserts will not be used again, ever. Okay, except that I will use them here as a reminder of how far we have come in the past eighty to one hundred years

My grandma started me on coffee when I was five, but I probably never had cola until I was seven or eight. Today, I will drink fifteen cups of coffee a day, but maybe five colas in a year.

Note that the organization which ran the ad resolved the issue of whether the stuff should be called "soda" or "pop."

They opt for either and/or both.

The notion of raising a Blatz baby just seems way beyond the pale. Of course, the idea of coming home to a "Blatz Mama" isn't all that appealing, either.

Oh, yes. Eat, drink, be merry-- and smoke; for tomorrow we die.

This one rather gives a different point of view on the "coke baby" thing, doesn't it?

What ads that run now will be shocking, nay, horrifying to a future generation? Among others, perhaps this one, if the food police have their way. Maybe sooner than you expect. Bon appetit.

God is Good All the Time

Pastor Mark's sermon emphasized one attribute of God, namely His Goodness.
Reading Psalm 34
In John 10:11 we find Jesus saying, "I am the good shepherd."
Pastor asked, "What does 'God is good' mean?" His message was the answer to this question.

1. God will always meet my genuine needs. This is not to say God will meet your wants. Phillipians 5:19, Matthew 6: 25-30

2. He will always forgive me of my sins. I John 1:9 "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

3. He is always up to something good for my life. Romans 8:28, Jeremiah 29:11

4. He will always love me personally. Jeremiah 31:3
I cannot do anything that will cause God to love me more than he already does. He loves me with perfect love. He cannot improve on His love. I cannot do anything that will cause God to love me less than he does. Grieving God does not diminish His love. God's love is everlasting. Jeremiah 31:3

5. He will give me the grace I need all the time. II Corinthians 12:9
Grace = God's riches at Christ's expense.
Why does grace show up in my life? Because God is good, all the time.
Grace abounds; in His mercy we do not get what we deserve. God is good.

Because God is good, He will lead me to repentence; I will live for Him; I will be with Him eternally.

Heroic Police Officer

November 1, 1950 this man, Leslie W. Coffelt, gave his life in service to protect the President of the United States from an assassination attempt.

Two Puerto Rican nationalists, Collazo and Torresola, undertook to breach security at Blair House where President Truman resided at the time. Torresola approached Coffelt at his station and shot him three times, the wounds proving fatal. Torresola continued on his mission and shot two other agents, Donald Birdzell and Joseph Downs. Coffelt, who had a reputation as a marksman, managed to rise and fire one shot at the gunman, striking him in the ear and killing him instantly.*

"I was the only calm one in the house. You see, I've been shot at by experts and unless your name's on the bullet you needn't be afraid – and that of course you can't find out, so why worry." So said Harry Truman.

The three agents shot in this episode and Tim McCarthy, shot during the attempt on Ronald Reagan's life, are the only agents ever shot in presidential assassination attempts.

Collazo was convicted and sentenced to death. President Truman commuted the sentence to life in prison. President Carter more than two decades later commuted the sentence to time served. Collazo returned to Puerto Rico and died in 1994.

Leslie W. Coffelt 1910 - 1950 RIP

*Distance of shot, 31 feet.
Source: Wikipedia

Right Here at Home

Waving Grass
Catalpa on Blue; Vignette on Front Stoop; Holly

I wrote a beautiful post in thanks and praise for the blessings I have. I lost the whole thing. I've no idea where it went. Enjoy the images; I enjoyed the stroll around the yard. The bonus for me was that Cookie walked with me. He has become such a slug that lying around is about the most activity he gets. This evening, though, he seemed to enjoy the walk.

Who am I to be calling my pooch a "slug"?