Grass cutting and other stuff
The big boy dog is gone. According to the poems, etc. that we got from the pet crematorium, he is waiting for us at the rainbow bridge and when we get there we will all cross together. It is kinda sweet, I guess. And it is kinda hokey, too. It can, if I think about it, make me tear up, but I no longer cry.
This box is labeled so no one will accidentally open it!
I can't decide what to do with it. Eventually we will bury it in the back yard but a lot of work has to be finished there so the burial will have to wait. He is now on the end table.
Would the coffee table be a better place? I would like to plant a box of grass and put him in the middle because he like grass so much, but I think that might not work too well for very long. Decisions, decisions! Maybe a box of grass on the back porch until it gets too cold. DH suggested the mantel but I vetoed that.
Our painting class this last time was looking at the impressionists and doing a painting somewhat in their style. Here is a cabin I was always stuck by when we passed it on the way down the mountain when we went to Sylva. Up close it looks like a lot of dots and splashes but from a distance I like it.
Do you know about gurgle or glugging pitchers? When you pour from them they make gurgling noises as the liquid leaves the tale and is replaced by air. Lots of fun. I couldn't resist this one.
I should warn you. Do Not go cut the grass after giving blood when the temp and the humidity are both over 85. I did it and ended up fainting and being hauled to the hospital in an ambulance. After blood tests, x-rays and rehydration they let me go. Here is the truth. The grass can wait.
Bella, Dean and I are hanging in there. We are getting accustomed to being just three, but I think we will always miss Jackson a little (or a lot).
All is well and all will be well