The perfect age is somewhere between old enough to know better and too young to care.

The perfect age is somewhere between old enough to know better and too young to care.


Not sure who said that or it's exact meaning. Perhaps I am not awake enough yet.


I was working on a long funny article yesterday with a program that was supposed to be automatically backing it up for me, but alas, it ate it instead,  for breakfast.


So I lost my groove. I just wasn't up to rewriting it all at that point. I growled, as I often do, when things go awry. Then I talk the puppy dog for a super long walk, looking for a possible play date for him while I have to be gone doing business for several hours. I can't take him with me and his training isn't far enough along for me to trust him alone that long.


If I had a proper dog crate, he would have stayed in that while I am gone, but I have a soft sided cat carrier. It's big enough for him, and I could put it by the window, but I could imagine him howling and crying in protest and disturbing the neighbors in this campground park.


I guess I am in a park rather than a campground. There are many seemingly year round trailers and motorhomes here. Also there is some sort of pipeline going in somewhere in the area, and loads of welders and pipefitters are living in the park. Nearly everyone asks me if I am working for the pipeline or if my husband is. 


It seems the younger generation asks if its me working for the pipeline and the older generation asks if its my husband working there. Interesting...


Well, no husband at all, and not me working there. I am fighting to get well, and it's a steady uphill battle. Today my eyes are swollen nearly shut and that's not good at all.   


I am plenty sad about my friend, Ed Morgan, of Tortola, BVI passing away.  Also, I may have touched something on the puppy then without thinking touched my eye area and now have an allergy action going on. I just don't know. I look ridiculous!