I woke up alive. Give thanks, rejoice! Thank you to my wonderful angels, fans, readers, framily, subscribers, amazon shoppers and a silly dog. You make my life possible in so many ways. I feel like I should say THANKS every day to every one the moment I wake up. Can I speed dial dozens of people simultaneously?
What about those that live elsewhere? What's the area code for heaven?
What a beautiful day! C-c-c-cold but awesomely gorgeous. Went out to walk the doggy, who insisted on a sweater and vest before he would put his paw outside the rolling doghouse (also known as my wheel estate).
Maybe I need to write a glossary of Dear Miss Mermaid terms:
Rolling dog house (ramshackle motorhome dog lives in)
Wheel Estate (rolling dog house I caretake for owner)
Cruising Cottage (rolling home)
Caravan (Brits and Aussie's favor this term for movable accommodations)
Harley's Ride (doggy's bicycle)
Monkey (my foolish pooch who looks like a wet squirrel when he is bathed)
Life is goof (testament to my lousy typing skills and eternal optimism)
Watching my hair (taking a shower without a sower cap, more evidence of erratic typing)
Sower or Shower Cap (bowl cover for my silly head)
Efficient living (teeny tiny itsy bitsy budget)
Vet Tutoring (what I told Harley when he was going to be neutered, he is still confused)
Dark Ages (my life before the millennium)
Broom Closet (where I hang my broom and keep a toilet stashed, it's really not as big as a broom closet but I like grandiola terms)
Grandiola (delusional living)
Oh and back to the rest of the story...
While walking the doggy, I noticed the campground was having a church service behind the playground under a covered shelter. I figured the powers to be would forgive us for being late but since we had so much to be thankful for, perhaps we could rejoice with the others. Doggy and I tiptoed up and stood in back just outside the open-air structure in the sunshine. A man I had previously met on the beach (he was laughing at our antics) kindly motioned for us to come under cover to sit down at a bench or picnic table. I was afraid Monkey would get cold and start shivering and shaking rattling up his tags noisily. (I think he enjoys this sound as a way to let me know he is either cold or needs a flea treatment or is tone deaf).
I pointed to the dog who had flopped down quietly in the sunshine. He craves any little piece of sunshine, a smidgen of proof that he must have some bit of chihuahua in his DNA as they are famous for craving a spot of warmth. Luckily he stayed perfectly quiet and found no need to rustle up a dog tag concert.
I must commend the family in attendance with 4 children under 4 years old. (Must be cold where they live!) The children were extremely quiet, though looking a tad bored except for the baby who occasionally let out a joyful yelp. His mother came out to pace in the sunshine cradling the baby who still gleefully muttered the odd babble now and then.
I was pretty cold in spite of my sweater and jeans, wishing I had put on more clothes, so the sunshine was helping to keep me warm. It was a breezy 65F degrees and it felt like a freezer. I don't think my mermaid blood is ever going to warm up.
After the service, people came out in the sunshine too. They were very friendly and nice. Harley was smitten to discover a cute immaculately groomed girl doggy came waddling out with the people. He tried to flirt with her, but she just looked at this ragged waif, stuck her nose up and thoroughly ignored him.
Poor Harley has such a hard time finding a girlfriend. He did recently fall in love with this great big black Labrador doggy that was camping here for a few days. She romped around with him with pure love in her eyes and in spite of his tutoring at the vet, he made some silly attempts to breed her. Sheesh. The lab owners were amused when I said "Stop that, pick another game!"
Seeing Harley rebuffed by the girl doggy, the chaplain came over to greet us and play with Harley. He introduced me to his wife and was telling her all about Harley's antics on the beach. Thankfully he didn't mention our bicycle fiascoes.
Several times he has driven his golf cart to the far reaches of the beach where Harley and I are often very alone, checking to see if we are OK and giving us icy cold water.
I just figured either he has a 6th sense or he is another earthly angel. Imagine my surprise when I learned he was the visiting chaplain. I guess he is a man of many talents.
We owe so much gratitude to so many angels, here on earth and those above us for watching out for us.
Life is goof!
What about those that live elsewhere? What's the area code for heaven?
What a beautiful day! C-c-c-cold but awesomely gorgeous. Went out to walk the doggy, who insisted on a sweater and vest before he would put his paw outside the rolling doghouse (also known as my wheel estate).
Maybe I need to write a glossary of Dear Miss Mermaid terms:
Rolling dog house (ramshackle motorhome dog lives in)
Wheel Estate (rolling dog house I caretake for owner)
Cruising Cottage (rolling home)
Caravan (Brits and Aussie's favor this term for movable accommodations)
Harley's Ride (doggy's bicycle)
Monkey (my foolish pooch who looks like a wet squirrel when he is bathed)
Life is goof (testament to my lousy typing skills and eternal optimism)
Watching my hair (taking a shower without a sower cap, more evidence of erratic typing)
Sower or Shower Cap (bowl cover for my silly head)
Efficient living (teeny tiny itsy bitsy budget)
Vet Tutoring (what I told Harley when he was going to be neutered, he is still confused)
Dark Ages (my life before the millennium)
Broom Closet (where I hang my broom and keep a toilet stashed, it's really not as big as a broom closet but I like grandiola terms)
Grandiola (delusional living)
Oh and back to the rest of the story...
While walking the doggy, I noticed the campground was having a church service behind the playground under a covered shelter. I figured the powers to be would forgive us for being late but since we had so much to be thankful for, perhaps we could rejoice with the others. Doggy and I tiptoed up and stood in back just outside the open-air structure in the sunshine. A man I had previously met on the beach (he was laughing at our antics) kindly motioned for us to come under cover to sit down at a bench or picnic table. I was afraid Monkey would get cold and start shivering and shaking rattling up his tags noisily. (I think he enjoys this sound as a way to let me know he is either cold or needs a flea treatment or is tone deaf).
I pointed to the dog who had flopped down quietly in the sunshine. He craves any little piece of sunshine, a smidgen of proof that he must have some bit of chihuahua in his DNA as they are famous for craving a spot of warmth. Luckily he stayed perfectly quiet and found no need to rustle up a dog tag concert.
I must commend the family in attendance with 4 children under 4 years old. (Must be cold where they live!) The children were extremely quiet, though looking a tad bored except for the baby who occasionally let out a joyful yelp. His mother came out to pace in the sunshine cradling the baby who still gleefully muttered the odd babble now and then.
I was pretty cold in spite of my sweater and jeans, wishing I had put on more clothes, so the sunshine was helping to keep me warm. It was a breezy 65F degrees and it felt like a freezer. I don't think my mermaid blood is ever going to warm up.
After the service, people came out in the sunshine too. They were very friendly and nice. Harley was smitten to discover a cute immaculately groomed girl doggy came waddling out with the people. He tried to flirt with her, but she just looked at this ragged waif, stuck her nose up and thoroughly ignored him.
Poor Harley has such a hard time finding a girlfriend. He did recently fall in love with this great big black Labrador doggy that was camping here for a few days. She romped around with him with pure love in her eyes and in spite of his tutoring at the vet, he made some silly attempts to breed her. Sheesh. The lab owners were amused when I said "Stop that, pick another game!"
Seeing Harley rebuffed by the girl doggy, the chaplain came over to greet us and play with Harley. He introduced me to his wife and was telling her all about Harley's antics on the beach. Thankfully he didn't mention our bicycle fiascoes.
Several times he has driven his golf cart to the far reaches of the beach where Harley and I are often very alone, checking to see if we are OK and giving us icy cold water.
I just figured either he has a 6th sense or he is another earthly angel. Imagine my surprise when I learned he was the visiting chaplain. I guess he is a man of many talents.
We owe so much gratitude to so many angels, here on earth and those above us for watching out for us.
Life is goof!
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Life is goof!