Hot Legs, Wearing Me Out

Admittedly, these pictures are crap quality but I have to share because would you look at Dixie? She's ten months old now, 55 pounds and all legs. She's a goofball, this one, sweet most of the time, bratty some of the time, curious all of the time, and just the leggiest thing I've ever known. 

Homework

When I was in Fourth grade, I sat behind a boy named Kevin. I probably wouldn't remember Kevin or much at all about that year in my education, except for something Kevin said.  In Fourth grade, we changed classrooms once.  Half the day in one room and then we would change classes to another room.  I guess this was in early preparation for the full schedule of classroom changing we'd experience in sixth grade.  Kevin was in my class for the first half of the day for Reading, Science and Math. At the beginning of each hour, we'd pass our homework for that subject up to the front row and the teacher would gather our papers and quickly check through them.

Kevin, where is your Math homework?

Kevin didn't flinch, just mumbled, I didn't do it.

Why didn't you do it?

He flatly replied, I didn't feel like it.

I had never heard anyone talk to a teacher that way, of misbehaving like that. When Kevin said that, I remember being a little frightened and a little excited. It had never occurred to me that I didn't have to do my homework if I didn't feel like it.

Of course we didn't really have an option, not if we wanted to learn, but that's not what crossed my mind at the time. I was simply blown away by Kevin's defiance. 

Which brings me to this:  I haven't been around here lately because I haven't felt like it. Not to be defiant like Kevin, not at all.  It's that my job has me writing all day, which I love, but there are times when being around the computer on my own time is not exactly my place of choice. 

I'm going on vacation next Thursday though.  I'm going to London, Dorset, Paris and Versailles.  I plan on taking you with me.  Because I feel like it.

XOXO

For the time being

Sorry for my absence.  I hope you'll accept the excuse that life has gotten in the way.