Ageless.

Our deerhound, Randir, will be 12 in August. That will be an exceptional age for a male Scottish Deerhound.

That pales in comparison to Geenie the Greyhound in Florida. Wow.
HT Mary L Kenworthy.

Spring Has Sprung!

The calendar says it's closer to the beginning of Summer than the beginning of Spring. But in Michigan, I don't consider it to be really Spring until the Trilliums bloom!

Trillium Grandiflorum

A member of the lily family, the Trillium that we know in Michigan, is also plentiful all across the Upper Midwest and Northeast. It's also known as the "White Wake-Robin", and in French, "Trille Blanc".

Following the link under the photos will take you to information about this complex and scientifically important plant. It will also explain the inexplicable: those leaves? They're not leaves. And the stem's not a stem. WTF??

Around here, it's just the final sign that Spring has sprung.

Feelin' Like Hedda Hopper..

Sometimes I get to be like one of those Hollywood gossip columnists.

The ASFA trial this past weekend was a carbon copy of the previous 4 weekends.. one good day, one day of rain. The trend had been rainy Saturday, and pretty nice Sunday. As a change of pace, this past Saturday was gorgeous.. probably the best trial day of the year so far, and Sunday.... let's just say I'd finally had enough of the rain and wind and cold, already. I walked off the field!

While hanging out around the Express watching Margaret work ;-) I spotted this license plate.


I didn't think much of it at first, figuring it was just another vanity plate purchased by a dog fan who had an affinity for the United Kennel Club. Then I started to "put two and two together." Judging at this particular trial were two "high elected officials" of ASFA. Ok... the two highest officials. During lunch I noticed these two officers in earnest, private conversation with a mysterious dark-haired woman I didn't recognize from the trial.


What could it mean?


I keep coming up with "Four".

"Grapes."

If you don't know who this is, I feel sorry for you. Got a rare chance on Saturday night to watch the Red Wings game on Hockey Night in Canada on CBC out of Windsor, Ontario. After the game we got to see this.. Is that a great suit, or what upholstery? And that's not all.

Uh... Thanks!.... Somebody.

I owe somebody a big "Thank You". Wish I knew who. This very outrageously colorful item of headgear arrived with our weekly mail forward.

Let me back up a bit and explain how our mail works.

Full time RVers, like Margaret and I, get to pick where we call "home". Pretty cool, huh? After a lot of research, back in 2003, we chose South Dakota. Thousands of other RVers call South Dakota home, as well, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because there is no state income tax, no vehicle inspections, and vehicle insurance rates that rank among the lowest in the nation.

Where there are incentives like that, there are numerous businesses that sprout up to cater to people like us. One such place, in the tiny town of Emery, SD, is My Home Address, Inc. When you send something to us by USPS, that's where it goes. It gives us a street address in the community that allows us to get driver's licenses, vehicle registration, voter registration and more. For all intents and purposes, were South Dakotans! Unlike many of the people who use this service, we actually stop in from time to time and pick up our mail in person. That lets us go to the bargain hot lunch at the Senior Center, and meet and chat with our "neighbors".

Usually once a week we call Ron at My Home Address and tell him where we'd like that week's mail sent. And that's where we came in...

Last weeks mail delivery came in two packages.. one Priority Mail envelope, containing all the bills, and checks, and magazines, and other flat stuff. and a small box. The box had the hat, in a plastic bag, and nothing else. No shipping notice, no notes. Just the hat.

The folks at My Home Address had to obliterate the original address and return address before they put their address label on it, so the original return address is mostly unreadable. I can make out the last three letters on the first line: "son", (maybe "sson"), and the last digit of the zip is "5" (maybe "45", maybe not).

So there it is... somebody knows about my checkered military past, and sent an appropriate gift. If someone doesn't fess up here, it will forever remain a mystery. But thanks... whoever you are. I wore it at the MGA trial this past weekend.

Prom Season

1967

Fun With Photoshop Elements.

...and a distorted window. Just for fun, while we wait for the wildflowers to bloom in Michigan. Expecting Trilliums any time now.