Speaking of puppies, isn't she growing like a weed? I have no idea what she weighs now, but I would guesstimate 10-12 pounds and ALL LEGS.
Play position. She cracks me up begging me to throw a ball, toss a shoe, or let me let her chew on my toes.
Too excited for rawhide.
Finally, big enough to get on the couch all by herself. This presents a problem since we'd taken to stashing all of our things (including shoes and her leashes) on the couch out of her reach. It required a whole new level of puppy proofing. Pardon the weird lamp in the corner. We used it one night when she was younger, scared, and in a different crate. I haven't bothered stashing it back in its hiding place just yet.
So maybe I wasn't completely worthless this weekend. B. and I put new red mulch around our shrubs (which required digging out the existing pine straw and pulling up a plethora of wild onions) and installed this GORGEOUS new rose bush. These are Mardi Gras roses, and I'm in love. I've wanted an orange rose bush for ages now, but this orange/yellow/pink hybrid captured me immediately.
Finally, and this is really the best part, I have bookshelves!! Two, 6-foot, cherry bookcases to be exact. And guess what? They hold ALLLLL OF MY BOOKS with almost two whole shelves left over. I'm trying my best not to fill up those last shelves. I have a stack of books to donate to the library and I pass them off via Bookmooch when I can. I only keep the ones I really love and will re-read.
In reading news, I'm still not. I've decided to wipe my plate clean (bye-bye Cat's Eye and People's History of American Empire). I'll come back to them, but I need a fresh start. I grabbed Angela Carter's short story collection, The Bloody Chamber, from the shelves before I left the house this morning, but now I sort of wish I'd taken the 7th Fables installment, Arabian Nights (and Days).
And since Chris tagged me for the 6-word Memoir meme, here are several I came up with on Friday:
Late students, late papers, migraine headache.
Reading is what life's all about.
Dazed, confused and utterly put out.
Hungry and tired, not dead yet.
Mean, green, and not very lean.
Oh, and if you enjoy irony, remember how I named my car Pandora? Pandora like the goddess that opened up the box o'trouble for the world? Welp, the car has to go to Toyota tomorrow because the bladder inside the gas tank isn't filling correctly. Yep, shot myself in the arse, I do believe.
Finally, this week's "Finicky Reader" column is about how my teaching has affected my reading. Give "The Cold Stare of the Disinterested" a read if you have a moment.