Of course, a few days after those pictures were taken we had a windy night and now all of the flowers are just bare stalks. I don't think they're coming back after three days, either. Oh well. They were pretty while they lasted.
Ripley says hello. Yes, there are no less than seven actual pet beds in the house and yet everyone must fight over the box. I'm sure there's a reason. Eventually Scooter will put an end to the strife by peeing on it, allowing me to get rid of the box with a clear conscience.
I'd have more to talk about, but it turns out that I missed all the excitement of the meth-head son of the people who live two doors down getting arrested at gunpoint last week. For the record, these are the people that complained to the city about my next door neighbors (legally) having chickens in their yard. I think perhaps they've been focusing on the wrong problems...
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