My feed reader is full of bloggers hailing from Northern climes who are all atwitter about the signs of spring in their particular locales. Snow is melting! Sun is shining! Crocuses are… croaking! Well, folks. I’ve got your “signs of spring” right here:

Ninety by Thursday. Phooey. Every year I complain that it’s too soon for it to be getting hot again, and every year I’m RIGHT.


Bill and I went out to lunch in Scottsdale last Sunday. He recalled seeing The Grotto, a little Italian place on a corner in the Old Town district with an outdoor patio. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to stuff a pancake (yes Bill, I know it’s a crepe) with a mixture of veal and chicken, then smother it in cheese sauce and spinach, should have a statue erected in their honor. Even if I could only eat two thirds of one. Gotta remember to split plates at that place.

It was a beautiful sunny day, low 70’s and breezy. When I thanked Bill for the “date” he kind of looked at me funny, then said, “Yeah, I guess this would make a good date if we were going out.” To which I responded, “We ARE going out. Permanently.” “Yeah we are!” he said, and grabbed my hand.


We adopted a new pup back on February 19th, from the HALO Animal Rescue. Her name is Piper and she’s what our vet affectionately calls a “Pocket Pit”. I call her a sport model. She’s a Pitbull, pure bread as near as we can tell, but she’s tiny. She’s probably about year old so she’s pretty much fully grown, but only weighs about 32 pounds and is quite a bit smaller than Bailey (who weighed close to 55 the last time we went to the vet). She must’ve been the runt of the litter.

She’s extremely sweet and affectionate. She and Bailey get along very well, and we’re working on teaching her manners. She has “sit” down pat, and we’re working on “stay”, “wait”, and “come”. As well as “GET DOWN” and “STOP LICKING ME.” She walks well on the leash and strange dogs don’t phase her a bit (as compared to Bailey who STILL freaks out at other dogs). Piper came to us with a tail injury which we tried to get to heal, but in the end the vet determined it had to be amputated. That happened last Friday, and now she’s suffering the indignities of the Cone of Shame. We’re ALL suffering from the Cone of Shame – it’s at shin height to those of us who walk upright, and the edge of that plastic is sharper ‘n a mutherfucker. Bailey finds the cone handy, though – she can grab it with her teeth and force Piper to do her bidding.

I’m looking forward to the first time we take both of ’em Jeeping. THAT’S gonna be an interesting day.


Apparently, 209 5×7 photos weighs 2.4 pounds.

You see, while I adore photography I very rarely have my photos printed. They adorn the Internet but not my walls. I recently got it into my head to create some sort of a photo board or collage. Last weekend I went through the photos that I’ve taken over the past several years, chose a couple of hundred of them, and got them printed.

They arrive on Wednesday. I still have only a vague idea of what I want to do with them. Suggestions?


Speaking of photography, I posted an article about spending a day with a macro lens over at Beyond Megapixels. That day was lovely, too.

And that’s all I have for today. I miss this space.