Apparently, the third of july is another of the firework holidays.
My dogs are not impressed: Connor is lobbying for emigration to a firework-free country where it never gets too dark and there are plenty of slow-moving rodents, Molly is doing her best to become a hat, and Oscar, as always, advocates saliva as a cure for all ills... resulting in statements like "Muppet, honey, the fireworks don't need kisses. No, my elbow is very clean right now, thank you."
Connor's been having a tough go of darkness lately... he keeps falling down the stairs and getting stuck in the yard on his morning potty breaks, so I'm trying to come up with a way to give him a terrier-sized headlamp with some sort of paw-switch. Also, nightlights are on my shopping list.
Bobby was let go from work today. sigh.
On the plus side, I've had my first commission for side work, and I have all sorts of fabulous ideas for pre-apprenticeship programs for women in the intermountain west. If I get inspired, i may spend my weekend in the coffeeshop writing up business plans and price lists and such, and doing some looking for grants and things.
Of course, it will need to be in between the cat-sitting and plant-watering and Q-detailing and negotiating for Denver and pony sale preparation and dishes and laundry and jellyfish and book publication research and motorcycle class (thanks, mom!).
Now, however, it's time for herbal tea and a nice thick book and my featherbed.
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