I've gotten several inquiries as to how Miss Chloe dog is doing in her new surroundings. She is quite happily adjusting to life on the farm down near Dallas, Texas. She's getting all the love and attention she needs and deserves. She has free-run of the house and fenced-in acreage. She's learned how to use the Doggie Door so she can come and go as she pleases. She is much, much happier now. And I couldn't be more thrilled for her.
I never thought I'd see the day I'd sit down and not have anything to say. That day has arrived, I think. Maybe it's because I'm bleary-brained from NyQuil consumption the past couple of days. Maybe it's because I decided to read thru my Archives to weed out some of my entries - for personal reasons - and as I read what I've written the past year and a half I wonder what in the world makes me think I'm a writer? It killed off any writing juices I have in me, I think.
I seem to be in a stagnant pool of murky musings lately. Not depressed, no. Just kind of here, like I'm existing on auto-pilot. Point me in this direction and I do what needs done. Point me over there and it's the same story. No bumps in the road. No pot holes. Just the same old scenery, day after day after day. Like getting stuck on an Interstate freeway that never ends.
I have a horrible case of the flu I inherited from the grandboys. I know a lot of the way I'm thinking is coming from how I'm feeling...rotten. So I'm heading back to bed. But I thought I should at least check in.
I'm still here.