Today's word of the day is Ear candy (music that is pleasing to listen to but lacks depth) - I'm listening to a mix of music from the sixties and seventies - a lot of ear candy - but fun to listen to.
This morning I ran across a poem I had saved a few years ago. Its not quite like the other poems I've posted here, but does speak to dog owners - I just have to share:
A poem - Ode to poop
(author Unknown)
But, hark! What brown does yonder glisten
Left prior by the dog now pissin'?
A turd, most glorious and neat
Fortuitously not beneath my feet!
Softly nestled upon yon grass
'Tis data from my dog's ass
For wisdom's gained by those who snoop
'Mongst particles and bits of poop.
This poem seems especially fitting as my friend Cynthia used to call our place "Laura's Place of Poop" cause with 3 dogs, 2 cats, a bunch of parrots, and a few horses - it seemed like every time I turned around I was doing something with it.
I'm practicing not using my mouse today. I'm getting better, but have reached for the mouse a few times. Once I'm good without the mouse I can feel young and hip again (ha ha). This past weekend when we were out shopping we were served by several young men - in one store the young man had a nose ring and this other weird u-shaped nose ornament as well - I hardly look at him - and felt like an old fuddy duddy! At another store the young man had hair halfway down his back - it was nice hair and well groomed but he seemed so many generations away - I felt like I was 100 years old - not just 48. Now I know how my parents and their parents, and on and on, must have felt as we stretched the bounds of what was considered normal. I guess I just really don't get out much!
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