You start out side by side in cribs and your friendship lasts a lifetime. How wonderful.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Support Bird TLC
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Another cornerstone of civilization crumbles
According to a horrifying news story, Facebook is going to start a gift service. Not only can you send gifts to friends from Facebook, but they can “unwrap” them online and if they don’t like them, exchange them for something else.
First of all, nothing says love and friendship more than a gift that can be exchanged before it’s actually received. Shows your friends really know your likes and dislikes.
Secondly, your world is about to be inundated with Facebook gifts that will multiply like rabbits in you home… and they will all mostly look alike.
Thirdly, and I can’t
Yeah, I may be small but I’m tough
And if you have any doubts about that, talk to my buddy. He handles all the complaints.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Sad but true
As the monsoon continues, I open my back door, look at my little dogs and plaintively query, “Want to go out?” They haven’t been out in hours. And the look on their faces as they gaze at the pouring rain from the comfort of their dry doggy bed tells me they never plan to go out again. So I’ll continue to tread carefully as I walk through my house and hope they understand the use to the little puppy pads with which I have papered my home.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Sigh…
Young fat versus old fat
I’ve been cold all summer and now that fall is here, it just seems like more of the same. I can’t believe I used to walk in 20 below weather with my dog and not think a thing about it. When it gets to zero here now, I put on a t-shirt, sweat shirt, coat liner, my long lady’s parka, a muffler, hood and two pairs of gloves to walk the dogs. I look like man mountain trying to waddle down the street. I can’t figure out how all this fat used to keep me warm when I was younger
Hello Barrow!
Forty years ago today I first stepped foot in Barrow. I loved all 28 years I spent there, strange though some of those years might seem in retrospect. But mostly I like to think that I lived up to my philosophy, best summed up by the following quote from I don’t know who.
“Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO HOO –
Meet Alvin
Alvin is an “older” dog who has just been adopted from the pound by my friend Sherrie. He doesn’t know it now, but he is one of the luckiest dogs in the world.
Have you checked out your local pound for a friend to keep you warm through the winter? Some of the best friends you’ll ever know are there.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I can’t believe it’s been forty years
Forty years ago today I arrived in Anchorage from Brooklyn, NY. I thought I’d traveled to the end of the earth. Then I found out that in a couple of days I would be traveling two more hours to get to Barrow. I don’t know who cried more my first night in Anchorage, my parrot Adeline or me. I know I was pretty sure there was not was enough earth left for me to fly yet two more hours to get there.
It was the beginning of what could only be called one wild and crazy ride.
Perhaps a bird overdose
I opened the grate to my fireplace last night to start the first fire of winter. I saw something in the darkness. I couldn’t tell what it was. Before I even knew what I was doing, I heard myself saying out loud, “Please don’t let it be a dead bird. Please don’t let it be a dead bird.” It was, in the end, the leftover piece of burnt wood from the last fire.
I wonder how many other people would have that same first response?