A Day in the Life

Yarn, meet dog.

I guess it's time to baby-dog-proof the yarn stash, which has been living in a wicker laundry basket on the floor beside my loom.

Perhaps a new, soft, pink toy that looks like a fresh dust mop will be a good stand-in for a mouthful of good wool?

And it squeaks. Over and over again. (My husband almost opted for the hedgehog toy that farts, but wasn't sure that I was approve. Also passed over: a sheep that baaaaas continuously. Even a dog would go insane.)

An array of toys. Maybe it's the influence of the yarn stash (now on top of the loom behind the chair), but Parker likes to organize all his toys into one area.
Asleep. He took a header into the tiny little pond in the back yard as he leaned in for a drink, then dashed madly about the yard in perhaps an effort to distract any onlookers from his klutziness.
And I promise that this will not become a log of Parker's every move, but I'm giving myself a week of blog indulgence and then it's back to the knitting and the yoga and the cooking and reading. Maybe.

Comments

Anonymous said…
From my own experience, I would say the dog stories have to go somewhere to let off the pressure. . . and they fade out after oh, 2 or 3 years. ;)

(Hi! I got here via buymeaclue, and I'm a mostly recovered dog-story-telling addict.)

CathEmery