This morning, Woody and I got together in the back yard. I
drank coffee, he ate grubs.
I complained: “You know, sometimes it feels like I'm just
beating my head against a wall!”
He looked at me like I was crazy: “You talking to me? I've
got a headache 24-7 and you're crying to me like some little girl?”
He was right, of course, a good lesson in perspective. I
made a silent vow to buy him a nice cup of meal worms next time so we could sit
and talk quietly, without all that banging...
Love your blog. Think I am gonna go with Blogspot. See you in cyberspace. :-)
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