To dig the sandy shore

While I was on vacation, we were able to take Duke to the beach for some playtime.

I saw myself never going back

Happy Friday! Let's have a dose of funk.

heads lifted or lowered into scent

Duke is now just about 2 years old, if our guesses, and those of the vet, are correct. He has filled out and muscled up, as young males of all species tend to do as they mature, and he is swift, strong, and agile.

grandiose silence of the snow

Early this morning, at Belfry HQ:

these melodies best when the moon is up

Warning: much that follows will seem like gushing because it is gushing.

This is Duke.

I believe in a heaven I'll never enter

The transition of summer into autumn means, among other things, that I can keep working in the garden after 10 am. This is a good thing, both for my health (physical and mental) and the garden, which has been neglected for most of the past month.

My heart is too empty to speak true of sorrow

I could go into the details, but the only thing that really matters right now is that our beloved Boo Dog is gone.

It was sudden.

Where Sleeping Dogs Lie

I'm sure I've grumbled before about the jet lag-like effect of the biannual time change, or if I haven't, you can probably fill in the blanks.

Purgatorio

So.

Yesterday, I leave work at 3:30. I manage to dodge the accidents on the Beltway and 50, break free of another one at the intersection of 450 and 3, and am making reasonable, if not good, time.

AUGH!

You know how, in the old Peanuts comic strip and animations, Charlie Brown would tilt his head back and cry out in anguish when something too insufferable to be borne happened?