I am elated that Jaxon is getting better.  He is even more his usual self, wandering in the yard when he is out, lounging on furniture when he is in.  My heart is resting easier.

The postal delivery yesterday contained a surprise.  I love surprises!  There was a box wrapped in brown paper, well taped, with the address written in handwriting I recognized.  It was a parcel from Grandma Margaret!

The past days have been exhausting.  Poor Jaxon.  It is so difficult to watch a pet suffer. Like a baby or small child, they cannot tell you what is wrong, or where it hurts.  It is up to us to put together all of the pieces of evidence, big or small, and figure out what is wrong.  I am grateful for good veterinarians.

This weekend I received news of a tragedy.  Not in my own family, but affecting someone I know, and I have been feeling pain for them.

Today I took Jaxon to the local dog park for a play date.  His play date was an Australian Sheppard named Zoey.  She is in his training class and they get along quite well.  Zoey likes to run and catch her Frisbee.  Jaxon likes to run and catch Zoey.  It worked well to tire him out.  With Jaxon primed for a rest, I could wander away from the homestead for a couple of hours.

Today started with a bang.  Literally! 

Thunder.

I am thrilled it rained today!  We got a good, long, soaking rain.  It has been hot and humid the past few days.  It was wonderful to hear the rain on the roof and listen to the low rumble of the thunder.  I love the rain.  The garden and lawn also love the rain.  Jaxon does not love the rain.  He dutifully goes outside as necessary, but with ears back and head down. 

Poor Jaxon.

Today I feel like a slug.  No offense to slugs.  Nature created them to do a job and I am sure they do it well.

I am having one of those days.

I have always enjoyed spending time with people older than I.  When I was a kid, I enjoyed visiting my grandparents.  I loved hearing them tell stories of when they were younger people… what they did… where they had been. 

I like the term “oldster” to define people significantly older than me.  “Old person” is not an attractive label.  I use the term “youngster”, so why not “oldster”?

We are celebrating Independence Day in the United States today. 

Ever since I was a child, I remember this day being about picnics, campfires, and fireworks.  There was always a parade somewhere nearby, and Mum would take us to sit on the edge of a street, usually with some of our cousins, and await the fire trucks and marching bands, and the clowns (apologies to all of you reading who fear clowns :-)).

This week, my lists are taking over.

I have so much I want to do, and seem to keep falling short.

Is there ever enough time in the day?

It takes almost an hour to get to Mum’s house from the homestead.  The transport of the “Hello Kitty” cake to the birthday celebration was without incident.  My niece gave her squeal of approval with a very loud “Aunt-Aunt made me a Hello Kitty cake!”

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