I haven’t been getting out lately, but fortunately, there always stuff going on inside. Dogs. Snow. Toys. I suppose these could just as easily be considered oddballs!
Standing in the corner wearing a tall pointy hat? Or was the tall pointy hat to prove you were a wizard? I have so much trouble remember these days.
One from Garry, three from me. There are a lot of corners in and out of the house!
Toys. What is a toy? Once you are past dolls, toy trucks, and blocks, what is a toy? The television? Kindle? Cell phone? I’m inclined to think that anything we don’t need for work, in or out of the house, is probably a toy.
We live in a watershed. What, you ask, is a watershed? Well, in theory, all the world is a watershed, to some degree … but technically, a watershed is an area of land where water arrives (as in from rain or snow-melt), then drains into a common outlet. Around here, that would be the Blackstone River and its tributaries, ponds, streams, and lakes.
Since we moved here in 2000, I’ve been taking pictures of the river, the dams. The ponds where the swans and the herons live. The ducks and the geese and the strange area on the Blackstone where about a million snapping turtles live. After almost 18 years, I haven’t yet seen even half the places we can visit, but we’re working on it!
What could be more abandoned than a Scottish Terrier facing the terror of getting clipped without someone to hold his paw? Poor Gibbs! He has been face-to-face with dreadful things during the year and a half he has been our furkid. He has had his ears treated! Oh, the horror!
No matter how good he is, people are always doing stuff to him. He cannot help but take it personally. He is alone, one brave Scottie against the world.