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some dog in my living room |
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some guy in my living room |
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can now make a poached egg exactly the same every time |
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Trotsky's cousin |
The week on the Peninsula is now the stuff of myth and I must deal with a cold head a lot. Mr. D is growing old; in the new math for dogs' age vs humans' he will be 40 in a few months. S may have found an answer for her cough. R is packing and repacking her Corolla to see if she can make it bigger for the peregrination to Pittsburgh. As to walking, that has fallen-off with the chemo, but I still have to walk the dog and get the spicy bread and butter pickles from the cheese lady at the Greenbank Farm, so there's that.
It was girls night yesterday, but Langley could not offer any table space at any suitable venue, so they came home to my house. They were nice to me with some joking around and they were outside in the backyard so it wasn't a bother. Z came for to play with D.
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Mothers Day travel pill box (1 of 2) am & pm |
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made by me apparatus for recliner cockpit |
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the entire Mothers Day collection with a rendering of D to look like a character from the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show |
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and if you've come this far, you deserve this |
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