Not tryin’ to be all emotional on you


But I need to throw out a few things. Bullet-style, because it’s all I can muster today.

  • The other morning, it was cool out. Maybe 70 or so and as I stepped from the glass door with the dogs, I could instantly feel the change in my soul when I remembered that Autumn is around the corner.
  • My mother related this story the other night: she was tidying up the dining room (the depository for all things junk and whatnot) and she found a pile of things from Barney, the Beagle they put to sleep last week. In the pile was his collar and tags and when they jingled, their greyhound came running in, looking for “the little dog”.
  • On that note, my dad took Barney’s passing very hard. He said he didn’t cry when his mom died and he didn’t even cry when his dad died but as they put Barney to sleep, there in the cold, hard sterile veterinarian room, he said he was crying like crazy.
  • On Saturday, at the birthday party previously mentioned, M asked if we all wanted to throw a boomerang. I had never done it or seen it done in real life. What an experience! M used to make them so he was rather a skilled thrower. (Tosser?). At one point, he used one boomerang to launch two others in sync. Very cool.
  • Elliot has a fever today but it’s not quite at 100, which is the sending home point for day care. I feel sorry for the little guy and hope it’s not that 24 hour stomach flu that’s going around.
  • On Friday night, I made spaghetti and gave some to Elliot. He was less than impressed. I, on the other hand, had a little mommy moment because at the beginning of the week, he went to daycare not understanding the concept of a straw sippy cup. As I offered it to him after some large bites of french bread and noodles, he was drinking. Right there, like a big boy. Yeah, my eyes welled up a little.
  • Last night I was walking Elliot around the neighbourhood and saw a girl- maybe my age or a bit younger – come out of her house with a little Yorkie on a leash. She wore workout clothes and held a bag, for poo. She was friendly, as was her dog, but then I saw it: The John McCain sign in the yard. And for a moment, I was saddened by the fact that for a brief moment, I judged her based solely on that piece of plastic and metal, crammed into her grass. But then I thought, WTF, mate? How can you possibly…? I don’t quite get…? Ahh whatever.
  • I have been slaving away at work all day and I am ready go to home!

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