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Archive for the ‘e-scrapbook’ Category

You, small male child: build things!

I got these Tinker toys as a Christmas gift, perhaps in the hope of encouraging my engineering skills. And there I was, with my nose stuck in a book.

Looking to pare down possessions, I look at this stuff now and wonder if anyone might want it, before I toss it out.

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Good luck to … Pinky?

We had a stray dog in our house for a day. She was a sweetheart … rambunctious, but a good girl.

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I encountered an old friend recently. Our re-acquaintance came about through this blog. Ms. Maria del Mar found my post on Salinger’s  Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters (Roof Beam, to us) which I had ended with a note on the odd wedding gift at the end of the story, wondering why anyone might send cigar ash.  She commented that it is explained in the next novella of that collection, Seymour — an Introduction.

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Only one day left of this ridiculous campaign. Much as I love to have NPR on as I potter around the house, today I think I will maintain radio silence.

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In January we briefly adopted an Anatolian shepherd named Roxy from the local animal shelter, until she stalked the semi-feral cats living in our garage. Sadly, we had to return her, although she was otherwise a very sweet dog who’d had a rough life, living on the street for several months before the animal shelter was able to capture her.

Tuesday evening I was walking our two dogs around the track at the local high school, when I noticed a guy walking two dogs, a small dark Chihuahua and a large tan dog, outside the school fence, paralleling us. They were on the marina access road so I saw them in glimpses, actually on the other side of the track’s grandstand, as well as a long hedge. But the larger, tan dog looked enough like Roxy to remind me of her.

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Home for a Holiday

I went home to my parents house in Rochester, Minnesota for Thanksgiving. While waiting at baggage claim I got an email from a former coworker, who wrote:  “Pretty cold there right now, huh?”

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I took a year off from college once and traveled around the country. For a while, I stayed out on the farm where my grandmother had been born, living with my great-aunt.

I was helping my grandfather paint houses. I came home one day to find that my great-aunt had darned a couple pairs of my socks.

Really: she took needle and thread and created these deft cross-hatchings that patched holes. I remember I was touched.

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