I know, I know, I KNOW that I haven't continued the travelogue yet (but come on, have you come to expect anything less from me than this stellar standard of procrastination I've been maintaining since starting this blog?!).
You may have noticed that posting has been a tad lighter than usual (Really? you ask, looking so utterly perplexed that I simply have to believe that you haven't noticed anything different than usual).
This is because the computer has been unplugged so that its private quarters can be painted. Yes, in this house the computer is one of two appliances with its own private quarters. The other is the coffee maker. Its room is one which most other people refer to as "the kitchen." Here, it is simply known as The Coffee Maker's Private Quarters.
So where was I? (I must be the only person in the Universe who loses track of her train of thought while writing.)
Oh, yeah... blogging light due to the paint. (Head also a bit light due to the paint, but that's another story, and a not altogether unpleasant one at that.)
The painter must've known what kind of emotional upheaval the lack of a computer (and therefore, internet connection) would cause the likes of me, a self-diagnosed (even though it isn't even in the Time/Life A-Z Medical Encyclopedia!) CD (Computer Dependent), because he brought me something to try and compensate for the bleak, empty computerless hours that I had to face this past week.
Here's what he brought me.
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No, not the laptop (that came courtesy of the boy)! The lapDOG! (Although of course HE thinks he is large enough to take on a Rottweiler. He certainly has enough attitude to take on an entire pack of wolves and other large-fanged creatures, but unfortunately those of us who ever had to contend with bullies who outweighed us know that it often takes more brawn than brains to win such a fight.)
Ladies and gentlemen, meet Spike. In spirit, a dog of mammoth proportions.
In real life, a chihuahua.
He has been coming here every day this past week to keep me company and to assist his 'dad' with the painting. The result of that 'helpfulness' has been evident in tell-tale, tiny paw prints - matching the various wall colours - mysteriously appearing all over the stairs and the floors.
Speaking of tell-tales (or rather, tails): Yesterday, when they left, Spike had a streak of paint on his tail. It dried really fast, because he is always wagging it profusely.
As you can see from the above photograph, when he wasn't painting, he chose to relax by reading my blog. (Okay, okay, I'll admit: I made him do it as punishment for barking at the neighbours' big dog and, in the process, nearly scaring the poor beast to death.)
I don't know if he found my writing to be quite as intellectually stimulating as the three of you do, my regular readers (hey, let me fantasize, please!), but if you look closely you'll see that the top of his head is slightly furrowed. And surely that is a sign of some serious pondering going on, no?
So WHAT if he is pondering: "What on earth IS this crap?"
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