So, even though Eddie is a small dog, he is shedding like he weighed 100 lbs!! I brush him twice a day, and he still covers me & the house in his black hairs! I figured that getting a small dog would do away with the wads of hair blowing across the tile floor, but I was soooo wrong.
Hence, I decided to concoct a device to cover and hold in his hair until I was in a convenient location to let the hair out. I pounced on my idea with one of my old t-shirts. It's light & cottony, so it should still keep him cool.(in more ways that one) It summery, since it's a faux surf tour shirt, also.
Okay, so he's still getting used to it...but it serves it's purpose. Maybe he just doesn't like hand-me-downs.
I realized lately that I'm losing my ability to communicate well with others. I really don't get out much, and don't have a friend I chat with on the phone for hours like I used to. Facebook and texting don't count. Those are 'quick note' kind of things, and they usually aren't even using correct grammar or spelling!
I made a comment on facebook that I later had to delete. Anyone who knows me would have found it humorous, and maybe this person did, but I don't know her and she called me 'rude'. Being called rude isn't a new thing for me. (Actually, in 6th grade my teacher said I was rude so often that I wanted her to call me Rudy!) Anyway, my friend had posted a picture of her upper body sunburn. Someone had made a comment of a concoction of honey, wheat germ, some kind of oil, etc., which would help my friend's sunburn. I, joking sarcastically(duh), commented that my friend could then attract bees, and possibly even stir fry on her chest after that. I deleted my comment and apologized to the mysterious woman.
Through many years of trial and error, I have usually learned when to keep from blurting out my thoughts without censor. I have also learned, Dan doesn't always enjoy my sarcasm, so I've held back soooo many 'good ones'! My children have inherited my sarcastic gene, and when we are together Dan chooses to leave the room.
So, here I am, talking to myself about having no one to talk to...hmmm. I think I need to have a friend in the window reflection, like Anne Shirley. When I was little, I could talk to my dog, King, and he was a great listener and would console me with licks afterward. Eddie seems to fall asleep at the sound of my voice. I found it helps when I talk to him in an annoying high pitched voice, but that gets tiring for me after very long.
It doesn't help that my brain is dying, too. I was going to say 'slowly dying', but it doesn't seem to be doing the 'slowly' thing. I can't think of LOTS of words and can't remember LOTS of things that I did or was a part of. Hopefully, I'm headed to the part of my life where I can get back to blurting out whatever pops into my head without censor, and people will just roll their eyes and shake their head mumbling something about 'crazy old lady'.
