Happy Monday! Have a Great rest of the week. I love you. I appreciate you.

So, I’m at that age when my joints don’t work like they used to, they talk more than I do, and they sure aren’t a flexible as they used to be. And, I have a dog. And dog’s make offerings to the Grass Gods, and the Grass Gods are very specific that such offerings must be properly picked up and deposited in the large green altars at each corner of the apartment complex. 

If you don’t know, the Grass Gods live at ground level. And old joints aren’t flexible, and being a good People Mommy to Mister Sammy Brave Dog, I need to pick those offerings up before the Grass Gods decree us homeless. 

So I bought a 16” kitchen tong. I slip the GG approved bag over the grabby ends, bend over a wee it, pick up the offering, pull the bag over it, and deposit it in the large green altar nearest to wherever we were. Actually, I bought two tongs. I have one in my office to pick stuff off the floor that I drop. Works great for pens, papers, pins—-hmmm, maybe I’ll get another for the sewing area.

One can go to the pet store and buy a heavy plastic pooper scooper, and I had one when my toe was operated on and I couldn’t bend my foot, in fact I couldn’t walk on it flat, only on the outer edge. It worked great on grass, if it hadn’t just been mowed, and the plastic teeth could get under the offering and lift it. But if the offering was given on dirt, on rocks (we have a lot of both) the teeth couldn’t get under the offering. Yeah. Eeeewwwww!! But the tongs? Voila!

Poetry

I have written a tick over 2 poems a day since 1 Jan. There have been a couple of days when I haven’t written a new poem, but I’ve worked on some that were already written. I have over 100 poems filed, more if you count each version 😉 And a new flash fiction! With dragons!!! HUZZAH!!

Mr. Sammy Brave Dog

He is finally learning not to bark at everyone who walks down the community hall to their door. Or when someone walks by outside. It’s nice to have him much quieter like he was before we moved here, but it was nice, when we got a package left by the door. The problem was, he couldn’t tell if it was our door or the neighbors, it it’s a delivery person, or a resident. He still doesn’t spend much time in my office, but I can’t blame him. If I had a choice between laying on the floor or on a bed, I’d take the bed, too. Unfortunately, he won’t get into or onto a dog bed. He will, now and then, make a nest of the blanket on the floor near my chair. But it’s not as comfy as the bed. And there just isn’t room for a large chair, sofa, or bed in my office.

bed shark.