HARLEY: HEAD COLD AND HEAD GAMES

Head colds are so stupid.  They make you feel soooo sick, but then, it's "just a cold".  My latest cold virus hit me last night and kept me tossing and turning most of the night.  I often heard Harley, my little mixed terrier,  sighing from his bed in the corner; I guess I kept him awake.  Around 4:30am I got up, took some ibuprofen, emailed my boss that I was not coming in, and went back to bed listening to a CD-book.  I also remembered to turn off my cell phone and my alarm.

At 6:30am I awoke with a start when someone or something jumped on my bed.  Going to sleep with a Stephen King story being read can make your mind go funny places.  It took me just a few seconds to realize it was Harley and for my heart to retreat from my throat.  I closed my eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.  Harley wanted me to wake up and stuck his nose in my face.  He pawed at my exposed hand.  I put my hand back under the covers.  He barked.  I managed to croak a stern, "Quiet!" and he laid down on my bed and stared at me.  I didn't open my eyes to confirm he was staring at me; if he saw my eyes open he would take that for me being awake and would start the pawing and barking again.  I felt his gaze on my face, though, felt it like a hot nasty dog breath on my face even though he was at the foot of the bed.  'Way too much Stephen King.  I tossed and turned some more which made him finally jump off the bed, and I finally fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke later he was ready to go out and I took him out first thing.  He had been "good" and not had an accident (like anything he has done has EVER been an "accident"..) and I fed him his breakfast and gave him 2 OK release commands as a gift.  (He's still jerking me around with that OK release command.)  He laid next to my chair as I snuggled with a blanket and box of Puffs tissues.  Every time I got up - to move a trash can next to my chair for all those Puffs, or to get a glass of water, or to make a cup of tea - he got up and followed me.  He even looked concerned.  I was touched.

I made myself some homemade chicken noodle soup and set it on the dining room table.  Harley was sitting on the arm of the sofa looking back and forth from me to the window.  I felt a tug on my heart and decided to give him a treat; I also decided to take his halter off.  I called him over and removed the halter and hung it in the laundry room.  When I returned - talking out loud about getting him a treat - he was jumping off the dining room chair.

*FLB.

I don't know if he stuck his nasty conniving nose into my soup or not.  I ate it anyway.  And I did NOT give him a treat.

*FLB.

Don't worry.  He's fine.  I just told him to go to his bed in the living room.  I wanted to put my slippered foot up his butt....but....butt....but....I didn't.

=*freakin' little bastard

KICKIN' BACK IN KENNESAW GEORGIA - AND WITHOUT A GUN

Destinations really make the vacation, don't you think?  A vacation to...say...Trenton, New Jersey...should not be compared to a vacation trip to...Dublin, Ireland.  Not to put Trenton down.  Although, if you read Janet Evanovich's series about an inept but daring bounty hunter in  Trenton, you could then put Trenton down.  Her description is - to say the least - unflattering; however, there must be fun places to visit and fun things to do in  Trenton.  Otherwise, why would anyone live there?

I just returned from my vacation to Covington, Georgia.  My daughter, son-in-law, and grandson (darling Noah - see above left!) live in Covington, Georgia.  We never actually visited or drove by or through the actual TOWN of Covington.  Their mailing address is Covington, but they live in a very rural part of Newton County.  Covington does have a very picturesque town square which you may have seen if you ever watched the TV series In the Heat of the Night starring the now deceased Carroll O'Connor.  My daughters were raised in the neighboring town of Conyers and had occasion to see some of the stars of the series and to actually watch a scene being filmed one time.  Watching a scene being filmed is like watching paint dry; however, meeting celebrities - that was fun!

We were dining in Po' Folks Restaurant** one Christmas season and who should walk in?  Alan Autry!  He played Captain Bubba** Skinner on the series.  My daughter Mary Lee watched every episode of In the Heat of the Night and was enamored of Bubba.  She cried out his name as soon as she saw him.  He was being escorted by our booth and stopped to say hello.  He looked at Melissa's Santa hat, and said, "Nice hat."  Melissa retorted, "Yours, too!"  He was wearing his signature cowboy hat.  He laughed and moved on to his booth.

I did not see any celebrities in rural Newton County or in downtown Conyers this trip.  The weather was cool and crisp, and, although leaves were being blown from the trees, there was still quite a bit of beautiful fall color to enjoy.  I set aside the last two days of vacation so I could spend Saturday and Saturday night with my friend Susan, then drive home to Florida on Sunday.

Susan lives in Kennesaw, Georgia.

Now, if you Google "Kennesaw GA" you will get some basic information links (like the original name of Kennesaw was Big Shanty - - nice - -) and several links that refer to "Gun City".  You see, on May 1, 1982, the city passed a law that required every head of household to "maintain a firearm together with ammunition".  It was passed partly in response to a 1981 handgun ban in Morton Grove, Illinois.  Now before ya'll get all scairt - this law was amended in 1983 to "exempt those who conscientiously object to owning a firearm, convicted felons, those who cannot afford a firearm, and those with a mental or physical disability that would prevent them from owning a firearm".  Phew!  I wonder how many financially disadvantaged conscientious objecting disabled felons purchased firearms before the amendment? 

Another interesting sight to see in Kennesaw is Wildman's Civil War Surplus.  Also known as the "Best Little War House in Kennesaw".  RoadsideAmerica.com describes the shop as being "run by a gun-loving bigot".  Susan has offered (threatened) to take me to Wildman's several times, but, since most gun-loving bigots are misogynistic, too, I've been concerned that I would burst into flames as soon as I entered such a place.  So far I haven't been treated to a visit there.  Even though I was having to enter the city limits of Kennesaw I was still excited about visiting my dear friend Susan.  We always manage to have fun.

A couple hours after I arrived we were sitting around drinking coffee when we heard a big WHUMP and the power went out.  The power stayed out, too; however, it was a sunny and fairly warm day and we didn't need no stinkin' electricity to have fun so we just kept talking.  Susan's boyfriend Karl checked with the neighbors and confirmed the outage was not just us, so we all figured a transformer had blown.  Susan and I decided to go shopping and hopped in my car for the short drive to Wal-Mart.  (Hey, better than Wildman's!).  We got to the neighborhood entrance and found several cars stopped.  Uh-oh.  Maybe it was more than just a blown transformer.  Oh, you bet.  We parked and walked out to the main road.  Looking to the right we saw this truck and this pole tilted and these power lines in the road.  

This is what I could see using my zoom lens.  The pickup is pretty well trashed; that was a camper shell on the back. 












The accident happened "a ways down the road" from Susan's neighborhood, but you can see the lines block the entire street in that direction.

We walked to the left to get this shot - this is what you would see looking left from her neighborhood.  A firetruck had blocked the street and the power guys were shoring up the lines that had been pulled and snapped when the truck hit the other pole.

What is unbelievable - besides the fact that the two people in the truck sustained only minor injuries - is that the truck hit the pole so hard that it BROKE OUT A PIECE OF THE POLE (see behind the left rear wheel?) which then went over the truck and destroyed the camper shell before landing behind the truck.  Speed limit on this street?  35mph.  Driver's story:  He had a sneezing fit and that caused him to floor the gas pedal and swerve into the pole.

Right.

Susan (pictured at left) took a lot of ribbing about the "good time" she was showing me in Kennesaw.  Once the cops decided that we could turn left out of the neighborhood without wildly swerving to the right and plowing into the downed lines, they let us out one by one.  Then the good times really started:  Wal-Mart - didn't have what either of us wanted; however, I did have a snack of 1 (one) Pringle (served on a napkin) with a small swallow of Coke Zero.  I believe that is the only time in my life I have only eaten one chip.  Ever.

Then Susan took me to Kroger where some redneck woman and her son tried to run over us several times in the liquor aisle.  Then she took me to the Dollar store where I picked up Christmas bags really cheap.  It is truly the THOUGHT that counts.  Then she took me to Publix where she introduced me to Bob who had just prepared samples of Greek Tilapia and Greek Cucumber Salad.  Since I hadn't had anything to eat since 10:00am (well, except for that chip and swallow of Coke Zero) and it was almost 4:00pm I was very grateful to Bob for this sample.  I even thanked him after I growled, snatched it from his hand, and stuffed it in my face.

I will admit that Susan later took me to Taco Mac (with her boyfriend Karl and her sister Meloney) and Taco Mac had the best frozen Margaritas I've ever had!  And good food!  And even the Florida State (SEMINOLES) and University of Florida (GATORS) fans hollering at the multiple screens broadcasting the annual rivalry game didn't bother me; in fact, it was like being back at home in Florida.  We did get out before the Georgia-Georgia Tech game started; that would have been too much excitement. And bloodshed.

So my vacation ended on a high note:  power outage, redneck car wreck, Wal-Mart, and football.  Kennesaw.  I'm writing a review for tripadvisor.com and giving Kennesaw a thumbs up!

**Po'Folks Restaurant - yummy Southern cooking including fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, mashed taters with white gravy.  Good eatin'....

**Bubba - not just a rural legend - this name exists and is found frequently south of the Mason Dixon line.

VACATION OVER - PICTURES FOR THE RECORD

"Disney World" for dogs.  Harley loves this backyard.  Picture taken from backdoor/patio..steps lead up to pool (closed for winter).  Blond dog with curly tail looking at the camera is Lilly - named for a character on Days of our Lives.  She is 9 years old and the alpha dog - Queen - of the backyard.  The little dog behind her is the *FLB.

*FLB=freaking little bastard

Bo and Harley being friends for the camera.  Bo (also  named for character on Days of Our Lives) is the no-way-alpha-ever dog and just LOVES Harley.  Bo shares his doghouse with Harley on cold & dark winter nights.  Unless they are all in the garage - on REALLY cold nights. 

Lilly looks on as Bo & Harley frolic. 

My daughter baked a homemade chocolate pound cake from my grandmother Maxwell's recipe.  She set it on the dining room table while we were working on something else in the kitchen and I advised her NOT to cover it for awhile.  It has a nice crunchy-brownie-like crust on the outside and if you cover it tightly the crust softens.  A few minutes later I noticed a little face peeking out from behind the cake.  The little face seemed to have crumbs on it and looked rather pleased.  I motioned my daughter over to the door and we both watched.  Then she went and examined the cake.

Yep, someone had been scraping off pieces of the cake.  Some 2-year-old grandson!  Noah (NOT named for anyone on TV)  was mighty pleased with himself and we have a Thanksgiving story.

HARLEY - ON VACATION

Harley is having a great time on vacation.  He loves it in the backyard here.  It is completely fenced and about a half-acre in size.  Imagine you are a 20-pound mixed terrier and your greatest obsession is marking your territory.  You are let loose in a large yard with lots of bushes and trees.  Heaven.  Add in two more dogs for company and you have the perfect vacation for a dog.

The other two dogs are named Lilly and Bo.  Lilly is a blond & tan 50-pound mutt of indeterminate origin.  She has a long, crooked, curly tail, the long sleek lines of a greyhound, and  the rounded nose and floppy ears of a hound.  Bo weighs in at about 80 pounds and has the unfortunate genetic background of Basset Hound and Labrador retriever.  Unfortunate because he is as thick and heavy as a Labrador, but his big body sits on Basset Hound legs.  He also has Basset Hound ears and can raise the hair on the back of your neck with his howl.

All three dogs have been adopted and all have their own issues.  Put them together and they get along fairly well.  Lilly and Harley skirmish over alpha status.  Bo follows Harley around the yard while Harley marks his way around the perimeter of the fence.  Lilly and Bo make Harley wait until last before he can eat.  Sometimes they all bark together at some imagined threat or noise.  One afternoon the fire station about two miles away released the trucks, sirens blaring.  All three dogs howled.  And Harley and  Bo play in weird dog ways; this afternoon Harley was lying on his back and Bo was licking his belly.  It was a little too Caligula for me.

It's dark and chilly tonight.  Lilly is snuggled in her dog house; Bo and Harley are bunking together in  Bo's doghouse.  I don't ask and they don't tell.

BAREFOOT AND ...NOT...PREGNANT

Thanks to the Merriam Webster online dictionary:

Main Entry: ¹va·ca·tion

Pronunciation: \vā-ˈkā-shən, və-\

Function: noun

Usage: often attributive

Etymology: Middle English vacacioun, from Anglo-French vacacion, from Latin vacation-, vacatio freedom, exemption, from vacare

Date: 14th century

1 : a respite or a time of respite from something : intermission
2 a : a scheduled period during which activity (as of a court or school) is suspended b : a period of exemption from work granted to an employee
3 : a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation
4 : an act or an instance of vacating

I'm on vacation.  I am enjoying a respite from work and the daily routine, and for the first few days I have enjoyed suspending a lot of activity.  Every once in a while I feel a twinge of "should" as in what SHOULD I be doing?  I bat it away with a shake of my head.  It's almost noon and I'm still in my pajamas and barefoot and wearing my daughter's Snuggie. 

Every morning so far (this is my 3rd day of vacation) my grandson Noah and I have enjoyed coffee together in the dining room.  We discuss the view outside the French doors which includes trees, leaves falling from the trees, rain (yesterday), sunshine (Saturday), clouds (this morning), and Harley.  We discuss the deliciousness of the coffee while stirring our coffees with our spoons.  Mornings are the best.

I have to admit staying TV free has been a challenge.  At home I've rarely been tempted to watch since I unplugged 9/1/09; however, here in my daughter's house temptations are everywhere.  My first afternoon here the family went to a birthday party (for a 1-year-old) and I stayed here to take a much-needed and appreciated nap.  I snuggled on the couch with an afghan and a magazine.  The magazine, Entertainment, had the Twilight-series' stars on the cover and lots of talk about the movie New Moon, but lots of the magazine was devoted to current TV shows and what's happening on various series.  Suddenly I was salivating about Dexter and wondering about new shows I had never seen!  I put the magazine down, pulled the afghan over my head, and slept soundly.

Later that day my daughter was laughing at the latest Survivor shenanigans and told me she wished I was watching it this season, because one of the "survivors" was really sly, manipulative, and smart.  (Not always a combination you find on the show.)  He's president of an oil company and doesn't care (or at least he says so) about the million dollar prize.  I found myself laughing at his antics as retold by my daughter, but not really tempted to watch.  Then I asked her about Amazing Race and she told me about the gay brothers who pretended to be straight to woo the girl teams, and the Harlem Globetrotter team members who were very down-to-earth, and funny as all get-out.  Why did I ask?  Self-torture.

Last night I was listening to my audio book in my room as I relaxed before bed.  When I realized I was dozing off and missing whole sections I decided it was time for lights off.  I walked into the living room to say good night and...my eyes were drawn...unwillingly...to the TV...to the episode of....Amazing Race...that was playing.  A little voice in my head screamed, "Nooooooooooooooooooo."  I turned, I turned back.  There was Phil, the good-looking and wry host of Amazing Race.  I gasped, "Where are they?"  My daughter answered, "Prague".  Oh my, the Czech Republic.  Maybe I'd just watch for a minute.  I confess.  I watched almost the entire episode. 

Was this a slip?  Would I have to attend TA* meetings again? Did I have to call my sponsor?

Naaaahhhhhhh.

I went to bed with an almost-clear-conscience.  About 96%.  Pretty good for a recovering Catholic.

This morning the TV is on and Noah has watched an episode of Backyardigans, some Einstein show on the Disney channel, and now some dinosaur train show on PBS.  They are just background noise while I catch up on email and blog.  I did stop to sing the Backyardigans' songs.  I'll be getting dressed eventually; it's still cold and overcast outside.  My daughter has a cold so we'll be staying in today.  Whatever.  I'm on vacation.

*Television-addicts Anonymous

Audio Books and Driving

Blogging remotely from Covington, Georgia

When I decided to spend Thanksgiving with my daughter's family one of the most important items on my to-do list was :  get audio books at the library.  The drive from St. Augustine to Covington is six to seven hours depending on traffic congestion, road construction, and determination in "making good time".  I've made it in seven and I've done it in six.  Audio books keep me entertained and awake, two important ingredients for driving long distances by myself.  A third ingredient is plenty of caffeine:  I know all the Starbucks on my route.

So last night I had the *FLB in the backseat; he sits in the pink Princess car seat that my other daughter gave me last Christmas so my granddaughter could zip around town with me.  Harley doesn't seem to mind the color or the Princess logo repeated all over the seat; he's secure in his sexuality - or what's left of it after I had him neutered.

In the front passenger seat was my CD player, the audio book A Most Wanted Man by John LeCarre', backup audio book for the return trip Nightmares and Dreamscapes by Stephen King (a collection of short stories), and my purse.  You might be wondering why I had a CD player on my front seat instead of using my car's CD player.  Well, the car's CD player finally died earlier this year.  It didn't quit working all at once; no, that would be "normal".  Instead, like all things electronic in my family, it died piece by piece.

It was the kind of CD player where all the CDs are loaded into the CD changer in the trunk.  A wonderful invention where I could load 6 music CDs or 6 Audio CDs and listening to all 6 would get me almost to my destination.  When the CD player started to die, it died one CD disc holder at a time.  So on one memorable trip up to north Georgia I listened to DISC#1, then DISC#2, then DISC#4....WHAT?  At least for that trip I was listening to Christmas music and not an audio book; skipping whole chunks of a book would have driven me nuts.  Over the next couple months the CD player continued to quit working one disc at a time.  Finally it just died.

So with a fresh set of 8 "C" batteries and my first CD disc loaded I headed north towards Florida.  Just as I merged onto I-95 my cell phone rang; it was my long-time best friend Bonnie who lives in St. Petersburg.  (Florida not Russia)  We hadn't talked in weeks, so we spent the next hour catching up.  I had to be careful; traffic wasn't too heavy,  but the last time I got in a cell-phone discussion with Bonnie while I was driving long distances, I overshot my destination exit by 15 miles!  This time, HA!, I saw the sign for I-295 WEST just in time to cut across two lanes of traffic and make it.  We talked all around Jacksonville and hung up as I merged onto I-10 West.  Traffic was very heavy by then and I had to pay strict attention.  Besides, Bonnie had to go.

I listened to my first CD disc of A Most Wanted Man after I filled up with gas in Macclenny,  Florida.  And may I just say that Macclenny was a bit nerve-racking.  There was a Wal-Mart with a gas station on the outer perimeter of its parking lot, and people were lined up for gas like it was on sale or something.  (It wasn't.)  Just past the gas station a couple had parked their pickup truck on the grass and she was holding up a hand-lettered sign that said FREE PUPPIES and MOMA FREE TOO.   "Moma" looked like a pit-bull-mix as did the puppy that the man was holding up.  No thanks.  And please, they couldn't spell Mama?  Momma?  Anything but MOMA.

I spotted an oasis in this rural outback - STARBUCKS - and got myself a grande vanilla latte at the drive-thru.  Thus fortified I returned to the gas station and grabbed a pump without any problem.  Once safely out of Macclenny I started my CD player and enjoyed the first installment of my book.  By the end of the disc I was in Georgia.  It was dark as pitch and I didn't think I should be changing discs while hurtling along I-75 north in a construction zone.  I waited until the construction zone ended and at the next exit pulled off for a drink (LARGE diet Pepsi with a shot of cherry) and a disc change.  I also took the *FLB for a "walk".

The 2nd disc finished just as I passed Macon.  I couldn't tell you one detail or memory of that part of the drive.  I must have been watching the road, but I don't remember it.  My mind was totally on the book.  If I thought about it much I guess I'd be scared, but Harley and I made it to my daughter's house in one piece.

Epilogue:  This morning when my grandson ran into the living room to see his darling Grenah, he ran PAST me and to the French doors where he hollered:  HARLEY!  HARLEY!

*FLB=freakin' little bastard

ONE HOUR (USED TO BE ONE TV DRAMA OR TWO SITCOMS)

Last night I babysat my granddaughter for just over an hour.  Now there's not a lot you can do in just an hour.  The previous week I babysat for about 2 hours and we managed to squeeze in a trip to Staples, a walk to Barnes & Noble, chocolate milk in the Starbucks Cafe, a bathroom break, playing with the train set in the children's department, and a quick walk back to Staples to meet mommy.

For our hour last night I thought we might have a picnic:  get a bite or a drink at the drive-in, and sit at one of the outside picnic tables and just enjoy the evening.  (Grenah was a bit TIRED.)  Kinsey got out of her mommy's car with a milkshake in one hand (forget the bite or drink!) and her daddy's flashlight in the other.  I buckled her into the Princess seat and as I buckled myself in, she told me, "I saw COW!"

This was exciting news.  Cows are very important to Kinsey and me.  You see, Kinsey has always loved stories and books.  And when she was very small, just toddling-around size, about 12 or 13 months old, she was staying with me one day and learned she could close the door to the laundry room.  My back door was bolted (so she couldn't escape!) and the laundry room was fairly safe, so I didn't immediately open the door and check on her.  I knocked, and she opened the door, and I asked, "May I come in?"  She LOVED that.  For a couple weeks just playing with the door was enough.

Then one afternoon she let me into the laundry room and we were just kind of standing in there and she asked me to tell her a story.  I didn't have any books in there and I really don't know why this story came out of my mouth, but I told her a story about Kinsey playing at Carousel Park and COW drops in for a visit.  And COW wants to swing, Kinsey says NO, COW gets on the swing anyway, CRASH goes the swing.  And the same with the slide.  And the carousel.  Then Kinsey tells COW that it's time for COW to go home.  So Kinsey rides in her car (with mommy and Grenah) and COW follows.  They find a farm and the farmer is very happy they brought COW home, and COW is so very glad to be home.  The End.

Then please tell me more story - so I'm thinking this is easy - and it's Kinsey at the beach.  Here comes COW.  COW tries to do human things like surf, boogie board, build sand castles....disaster results...Kinsey takes COW home.

And so on.   COW in Target. COW at Grenah's house.  I had a million of them.   And for weeks she would take me in the laundry room and ask for a COW story.  I was a hit.  A star!  THE GRENAH OF THE AGES!  She would pass these stories down to her grandchildren and tell them what a loving and wonderful Grenah she had....oh...the immortality...the fame...the love.................

Then one day we were in the laundry room and she clung to me and asked if COW was there?!  She was scared!!!!! of COWS!?  I went from a loving Grenah to a PHOBIA-CAUSING NUTCASE.  The stories never had COW as a villain - more of just wanting to be a little girl!   What was I going to do?  And Kinsey still wanted COW stories, but she would hold my hand and peer around me looking for the maniac cows.  This couldn't go on!  I would be vilified!  The topic of therapy sessions and tell-all autobiographies.  The example of evil in every grandparenting book!

So we entered our PC phase where we talked about how COW was lonely and just wanted to have some fun.  I bought her a couple of little stuffed cows - she wouldn't touch them!  We learned the Old MacDonald Had a Farm song - especially the MooMoo here and MooMoo there.  Still scared.  When we were driving or riding around I would point out COWS everywhere I saw them - kind of desensitization therapy for 2-yr-olds.  Luckily, Chick-fil-A is big on COWS and there were big friendly COWS on their billboard, and inside the Chick-fil-A the welcome mat had a big picture of a COW, and there was a cardboard cutout of a COW near the counter.  Lots of pointing and touching and talking about COWS.  I also watched for any and all books that featured COWS in a positive light.  TIME will tell if I'm truly successful.  She seems more fascinated than scared now.  If Kinsey becomes a large animal vet or studies agriculture or marries a farmer - not so bad.  If she becomes COW-phobic,cannot venture outside any city limits as an adult, and needs years of therapy, I will deny deny deny.


So back to last night, Kinsey tells me she saw a COW and she's very excited.  I realize her milkshake comes from Chick-fil-A (It's called a CLUE, Grenah!) and that must be where she saw the COW.  (Her mommy confirms later in a phone call that Kinsey was very excited and yelled "MOMMY, LOOK!  COW!" while she was ordering.)  So I tell Kinsey we are going on an adventure and looking for cows.  It's only a 10 minute drive west to farm country; it's at least 40 minutes to sunset.  Plenty of time.  So we head west and then my cell phone rings.  Can I bring the car by the mechanic's just for a minute?  They have to SEE the hose they are replacing so they are sure to order the correct part.  Sigh. We do a U-turn and I tell Kinsey we have to run a  5-minute errand.  She doesn't mind.  She says, "We go get Harley and go on adventure."  (You see, she's decided the *FLB is her **"best friend" now.)  I say, "I don't think we'll have time to go get (gritting teeth) Harley."  She just nods her head and says, "We go get Harley.  Harley my best friend.  We take Harley on adventure."

That damn dog.

We wait at the automotive place 30 minutes instead of 5.  Kinsey is fascinated by the constant stream of people in and out, and by the picture of the Daytona Race Track painted around the top of the waiting room.  She alternately chews her straw and sucks her milkshake.  Several people speak to her and get the 3-yr-old mute stare.  I tell John the owner that she will not speak to him and he promises me that she will.  When we leave I say, "Bye, John!" with a smirk, and Kinsey says, "BYE!".  He laughs us out the door.

Now we have about 30 minutes left.  No time for Harley (HA!) and no time for COWS.  So we drive one mile east and around the big curve and park at the beach.  We spend the next 30 minutes walking and racing (well, she raced and I pretended) and picking up shells and climbing on mounds of sand and having a great time.  We get back to the car just as the sun truly sets and darkness surrounds us.  We meet her parents, shake off most of the sand on her shoes and rear end (when you climb you have to slide and fall dramatically, don't you know), hand her daddy his flashlight, and hand her mommy a milkshake cup with shells.

All in one hour.

*FLB=Freakin' Little Bastard

**A couple weeks ago Kinsey arrived at my condo and I took Harley out on his leash to meet her.  It's the first time she hasn't run to me and jumped in my arms.  She screamed, "HARLEY!" and ran to him. FLB.