before going North on 128
North Shore lunch
Thinking about goodbyes
Something sweet, fun, and satisfying
South on 128 during tornado watch
I wish I could be paid for all the time I spend waiting for doctors
Tried a red dog like Patricia’s – it didn’t work; trying windows like Jude’s – we’ll see . . .
Spending lots of time with Jack
Something about the red dog remains is so very honest and touching.
Admitting .. up front … I am so very biased. There is no color, no sky, no cloth, no stitch, no windows, no explanations of why or wherefore-art-thous, nor anything else that might matter more than these innocent beings who are COMPLETELY dependent upon us for their quality of life.
Agreed. The color and act of stitching the poppy is a way to sit in grief, really.
Caption? tis in his eyes.
Nancy – I am tempted to leave the threads of the red dog there, just so, undone but not completely…
dee…i like that VERY VERY MUCH…leaving the threads there
It is almost like calling forth his leaving the material plane. At the very least, it very much represents that.
oh Dee, I think about you and Jack lots these days, these animals we come to love…tough, rough, painful
yes to leaving the red thread remains
(((Jack & Dee)))
oh, Jack.
love the poppy.
once heard about someone who deducted their own hourly rate from the doctor’s bill for the minutes in the waiting room.