I came out Wednesday morning with the dogs to find out someone had left a half-eaten crabapple and part of a ginormous mushroom on our deck railing, snugged into a corner for ease of snacking. I'm sure whoever left it will return–once the mushroom wears off, that is.
All that's missing is a sign saying "EAT ME"…
What you can’t see to the left is Miss B’s own super-fancy office-bed. She and Sir Boxnoggin have reached the stage of acquaintance where they will bask in sunlight with their hindquarters touching, or synchronize their sleeping positions. By the time winter arrives fully, I’m sure they’ll be happy enough with each other to sleep in a pile of limbs and fur, especially since Miss B has the lovely long coat and Boxnoggin runs warm.
It’s a good thing, to have a buddy.
Apparently the fairies were dancing in the neighborhood lately. I’d harvest these…but better safe than sorry where the Good Folk are concerned.
I couldn't figure out what to wear last Saturday, so in time-honored fashion, I spread a bunch of things out on the bed and tried to keep the dogs from rolling in them. After a while, I took the one thing they wanted to roll and dig in the most, and was quite pleased with the result.
Dogs: not only great for depression, but also fabulous for fashion decisions.
This Friday’s photo is actually a photo-plus.
It is that most glorious time of the year: PUMPKIN, CANDY, AND SKELETON TIME. I was so, so tempted to get one of these and stick it in the birch tree in the front yard. I’m sure if I did it would be stolen by neighborhood kids in no time, but it’s nice to dream, right?
And then there’s this. I was playing around with Design Wizard the other day, and this made me laugh.
I do have a couple editing client spots opening up, if you’re into that, and I’m still doing cover copy surgery and creation too.
But right now, it’s a Friday, there’s yoga to be done and dogs to walk, and a massive tankard of tea to drink before I attempt either.
Over and out.
The season has turned; it’s much cooler at night now and the crickets, cicadas, and frogs are taking notice. There’s a frenzy of insects eating and mating before it gets even colder, and the spiders are well placed to take advantage. A spiderweb is math and engineering made flesh, and it delights me. (Though I really hate math, and have since myself second-grade teacher used to shake kids who got the wrong answer.)
Between the two pillars of birth and death, we weave. Fall is a time to remember that, and look up from our work before winter’s long nights arrive.
So yesterday while I was blogging the dogs took it upon themselves to show this rabbit–and its belly-squeaker–who was boss. They worked together in true pack fashion and stuffing-guts were strewn in multiple locations. Forensics would have a hell of a time piecing it together, but we think the attack started in the living room, moved to my bedroom, and finished in the office, where you see the corpse’s final positioning here along with some splatter.
We still haven’t found the squeaker. And neither dog shows any evidence of contrition. In fact, this morning they’ve moved on to a tiny stuffed bear…