a little of this, a little of that

This dog came to be babysat for a couple days.  Her name is Sophie.

She was an excellent guest.   We had a good time.

We walked up to the park on Friday, I think.

Here she's trying to round up all the balls, but it's a hard job.

Look at the dirt, this drab March yard.  What a strange winter.

Here's a bit of basketball.

When you don't know what to do?

Feel restless and bored?

Head out there.

Oh, oh!  And this! The leprechauns came!

They're terrible.  They make a mess (or find one), throw candy around, and leave a mean note.

I have no idea where this tradition came from, but I know they used to come to our old house too.

That was in 1986 and before.   They've been hating us a  long time.

Many of their insults center around the fact that we are not Irish.

The mean note this year involved a little poem that ended by telling us we stink.

Wow.

And this:  "Come back when you're Irish."

Okay, that can't happen.  Lydia commented on this, "Talk about setting us up for failure."

His spring break is over and he went back to the university this morning.   I miss him already.

And this hilarious little festivity--Kirsten's dog turned a year old, so she hosted a little birthday party.

The cheesecake was for the humans, the little cupcakes were for the dogs.

She enjoyed the party.

This is the amazing wind chime my parents brought me from Florida.   Click on it to see the baby birds in the nest. 

I guess last night when John stopped by here to pick up his dog, he had a couple kids with him, and my sweetie swung from the long cord, had the wind chime going in mad circles.

(I was bummed. I was working and missed their whole visit.)

He didn't break it, so this is good.  Aunties intervened.

Aww, back to the dog's birthday party--

Here they are, two cute girls.

And that is the end of Sunday, which is now after midnight so technically Monday.

Wheee.

What a fun Sunday it was.  Heidi and Kirsten ran in some St. Patrick's Day run yesterday, insane fools.

Thunderstorms are on the way for tomorrow--and we'll take them.  It's bound to be better than snow.

Onward.     love always, Val