My Next Dog

The computers were down this morning, so I read the classifieds while I waited. And found an ad for Great Pyrenees/Bernese Mountain dog mix. I am intrigued (I know dogs of both breeds; love them dearly, but boy are they hairy). I look them up. I want.

( Great Bernese Profile )

Writer's Block: Sins of c/ommission

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I regret gazillions of both. I'm an irredeemable Monday Morning Quarterback.

Is It Too Much To Ask?

I mean really, is it?

I'm driving my mother to and from Williamsport, PA tomorrow so she can visit her older brother in the nursing home. That's 180 miles each way, an entire day spent either behind the wheel or waiting in a nursing home. So I don't think it's too much to ask for her to tell me exactly where in the hell we're going. Seriously. She won't tell me the name of the nursing home, much less a phone number or an address or directions. Just 'I used to ride my bike there'. That's all she'll tell me. She doesn't even know what the visiting hours are or whether her brother will even accept a visit (he refused them before) and won't call to find out, and I can't call to find out (or find out where the place is) since I don't even know the name of it. I did check Williamsport for nursing homes, there's 10 of them.

I don't have high hopes for tomorrow. I really don't.

Remember Your Old Commercials?

( Campbells recalls 15 million pounds of Spaghetti O's )

All together now:

Uh oh! Spaghetti O's!