It’s National Rescue Dog Day!

National Rescue Dog Day

It’s National Rescue Dog Day – A Great Day to Celebrate Your Dog!

It’s National Rescue Dog Day.

We’ve always rescued our dogs.

The first one was Schatzi.

We got her as a puppy.

She is the reason we prefer to rescue older dogs.

Puppies are destructive.

She grew up to be a very good girl, though.

Our next dog was Dave.

He was a senior rescue.

We named him after David Brenner.

We didn’t think that one through.

Things could get awkward around guys with the same name.

Dave spent his golden years with us, being a very happy doofus.

Wrigley was our special dog.

We had her for 15 years.

She raised the boys.

Although all dogs are the Best Dog Ever, Wrigley really was the Best Dog Ever.

And now we have Blue.

I had just started her on obedience training when I wrecked my knee.

She has taken full advantage of my injury.

She has been very naughty.

Just this week she chewed up some socks, got into the trash, and ate some meatballs that were meant for our dinner.

I’m going to have to improvise some knee-injury-worthy obedience training.

I simply can’t sacrifice any more meatballs.

Happy National Rescue Dog Day!


Yay Purple! Purple Blossoms Make Me Happy In The Springtime.

Yay purple!

Yay Purple – There is Never Too Much Purple

Yay purple!

The chaste trees in the back yard are starting to bloom.

Yay purple!

The Catawbas outside my office window are also starting to bloom.

Yay purple!

I miss the Jacaranda tree at our old house.

It would be starting to bloom a stunning purple right about now.

I also miss the wisteria that I had growing over the patio cover.

It would have bloomed purple earlier in the spring.

There is never too much purple in the springtime.

Yay purple!


Shrieking. How To Make It Stop. And How To Go Insane In The Process.


The Shrieking Was Driving Us Insane.


The front hall fire alarm started shrieking.

There was no fire.

At least none that we could detect.

But what if something was happening within the walls?

We inspected every electrical outlet in the house, looking for smoke, listening for odd noises, feeling for heat, and sniffing for any burning smells.


We checked the attic, the garage and all the outdoor fixtures.


We tried new batteries.

That didn’t help either.

All morning long the alarm would silence for awhile, and then it would start shrieking again.

Bob got mad and removed the entire fixture.

Since we’ve got smoke detectors all over the house, and since none of the other ones were going off, we figured that the problem was the sensor on that unit.

A new fire alarm was purchased and installed.

We are now the proud owners of glorious silence.


I’ve Never Been Disappointed!

Never been disappointed.

I’ve Never Been Disappointed – Every Single Meal Has Been Delicious!

I’ve never been disappointed.

We always eat at a Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives place when we travel.

This road trip was no exception.

We ate at Mas Tacos Por Favor in Nashville.

This wonderful restaurant had a Cuban flair.

We ate tacos with black beans and plantains.

It was a perfect meal.

On the trip home, we stopped at The Root Café in Little Rock.

They served an amazing curried sweet potato soup.

I’ve never been disappointed by a Triple-D recommendation.


What Are The Odds That We Would Meet On A Random Hotel Elevator?

What are the odds?

What Are The Odds?

What are the odds?

On a random hotel elevator in Nashville, Tennessee, I met a woman who grew up in my hometown in Southern California.

It turns out that we went to the same schools.

That’s an odd coincidence.

But it gets odder.

We lived in the same neighborhood.

It makes sense that we went to the same schools.

But it gets even odder.

It turns out that we grew up on the same street.

However, she had moved in after I had moved out, so we never knew each other.

Now both of us have moved away.

But what are the odds that we would meet on a random hotel elevator in Nashville?


Seriously? Is This A True Story?

Seriously? Is this a true story?

Seriously? Is This True?


We used a lot of rideshares in Nashville.

Most of the drivers were musicians.

All of them were very friendly and were happy to talk about their city.

My favorite driver was David.

He may or may not have been a musician, but he was certainly a comedian.

He grew up in Nashville.

David told us that way back in the day, Tootsie’s would hire kids to shoot pigeons away from the building.

The kids got paid in beer.


They hired kids to shoot birds at a crowded honky-tonk?

They paid kids in beer?

I want to know if this is true.

Who grew up in Nashville?

Who can confirm this story?

If it’s the truth, then we heard an outrageous but hilarious story about growing up in Music City.

If it’s a tall tale, then we spent an engaging moment in the company of a brilliant BSer.

Either way, I want to know.


It Was An Amazing And Unforgettable Road Trip

Road Trip!

An Amazing Road Trip

Road Trip!

Nashville is called Music City for a very good reason.

We heard a lot of amazing music all week long.

As we listened to live bands, as we toured museums, as we attended the Grand Ole Opry, I felt my mom’s spirit was with me.

She taught me a lot more about country music than I ever appreciated.

I realized, as we toured the city, that I already knew an awful lot about the genre.

Thanks, Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day.

I wish you could have come to Nashville with me.

It was an amazing experience.


How To Tell Who Is A Jerk And Who Has Good Manners

He's a jerk

He’s A Jerk

I went on a Costco run.

At the end of the shopping trip, as I was navigating the parking lot in an electric cart, a 50-ish gentleman crossed my path.

He had just put his cart in the corral, and he was returning to his car.

He was obviously in a foul mood.

That’s understandable.

He had just finished shopping at Costco.

We’re all in a foul mood at that point.

When he crossed in front of me, he gave me an angry gesture with his chin, and he flicked his hand rudely, indicating that I should get the heck out of his way.

I was so shocked that I did move out of his way.

And then I was angry at myself because I should have stood my ground.

He’s a jerk.

Two Costco employees who were collecting carts saw the whole thing go down.

They rushed over to help me load my trunk and take my cart.

If anyone wants to disparage today’s youth, I would like to point out that it was the middle-aged guy who more or less pushed me, with a knee brace and an electric cart, out of his way, and it was two 20-somethings who rushed in to help.

Our youth is doing just fine.


My Funky Knee Makes Everything More Difficult

Everything is more difficult with a funky knee

My Funky Knee Gets A Zero-Star Review

My funky knee makes going to the grocery store difficult.

I need to use the sit-on, electric shopping cart.

I can walk, but I can’t walk the entire store, stand in a long checkout line, haul my load out to the car and then carry it all into the house.

That’s way too much standing.

The electric carts are a pain in the neck.

They go way too slow.

I can hobble faster than those stupid carts, even when I floor it on max speed.

I understand that they have to go slow for safety reasons.

But do they have to go THAT slow?

I will occasionally stand up and walk to get an item that I need.

I’m afraid that other customers are surreptitiously taking pictures of me and mocking me online as someone who doesn’t really need that cart at all.

If you see me as a meme, I swear, I really do have a knee injury.

The other day I tried to go to Costco.

They didn’t have any electric carts available.

My only choice was to wait for a shopper to be done and bring a cart out.


By that time, the cart would be out of juice and would have to be recharged.

I could end up waiting an hour or even more.

Yeah, nah, I skipped that shopping trip.

I am not enjoying my funky knee.

I do not recommend it.

I give it a zero-star review.


Three Good Reasons Why My Knee Doctor is Making Me Cranky

Yeah, I'm Cranky

Yeah, I’m Cranky.

I’m down to only one working knee.

I saw the orthopedist.

And I have a few objections.

My first complaint is that there was an awful lot of walking in this office.

I had to walk down a very long hallway to the x-ray room.

Then I had another long walk to get to the examination room.

After that, I had to walk all the way across the building to schedule an MRI.

Finally, I had to walk back across the entire suite to check out.

At the Urgent Care, back on that first day, they saw me hobbling in the parking lot.

They hustled out with a folding chair and told me to sit down and wait because someone else was coming with a wheelchair.

Now that’s good service.

You’d think an orthopedic office would have wheelchairs.

My second complaint is that examination table was real artsy-fartsy.

Which means it wasn’t practical at all.

Most examination tables can raise and lower, and many have pull-out steps.

This one did not.

It was huge, and I couldn’t even try to climb up on it with only one working leg.

The doctor was fine with examining my knee from the chair that I was in.

The technician who came in to fit me for the brace wanted me on the table.

Ha, ha, no way, that’s not going to happen.

The tech wasn’t happy.

But seriously?

Shouldn’t an orthopedic office be prepared for orthopedic injuries?

My final complaint is their phone service.

I received three different calls before my appointment.

None of them identified the medical group.

One of them said, “No caller ID,” and the others simply listed a number.

I never answer calls like that.

It’s probably a scammer.

A lot of time was wasted playing phone tag.

OK, that’s enough cranky ranting.

I liked the doctor.

The brace is amazing, and I can walk with it, and I’m feeling a lot better.

My MRI is scheduled.

I hope I don’t need surgery.

I would prefer to skip that and go straight to physical therapy.

I get a say in this, don’t I?

That’s how it works, right?