Just (proudly) finished cataloging the backlog of Saranac Lake's stuff. Books on tape and videos. The last one was a 1965 Sandra Dee, Bobby Darin video, which I had to do all original cataloging for, as no library among the 40,000 in the data base we use for cataloging confesses to owning it. My favorite subject heading in the whole bunch I just cataloged came from a recorded book: Jesus Christ--Drama. Isn't that appropriate for our lives these days. My father used to say Christ on a crutch! but that seems to take a long time to say when you're looking for an expletive. We used to try out Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, but that, too takes a long time to say. I was thinking this morning of two things my sister taught me when I was a child. You'll see the relevance in a moment. One was that, water does NOT come out of a hose faster if you put your finger over the end to make it spray harder. Oh I wanted to believe she was wrong about that, but she was seldom wrong about things of that nature. This came to me while I was filling the dogs' water bowl. The other was the meaning of the word shit ("Know what SHIT means?" no. "It means poop!" This conversation took place in the basement of 625 Rome Avenue, where Henry had his electric train set, where we had our television--black and white--set up, where we had "the pink shelves" full of canned goods that I took comfort would get us though survival in case of a nuclear attack, and where we kept some of our pet rats, also to where these pet rats would occasionall escape). This came to me as I was on my hands and knees cleaning up Jackson's diarrhea (to which I know I've referred to too much already in this blog lately) this morning at 7:30. If I cared more about this dog I'd be concerned but it seems my only real concern is that my house is starting to smell really bad. And yes, Kristen, you're right: dog shit smells at LEAST as bad, if not worse than cat shit. Hell, it's all bad. At least he has the good sense to poop on the vinyl floor and not the rug. I guess he gets points for trying. I noticed this morning that his tail and underpants are also green, adding to his charm, I guess.

I was awakened this morning by a pebble being dropped on my head by little Tess, who had found my stash of Sicily stones. Where she found them I'm not sure, but she has an uncanny ability to find things I don't want her to have. So boink! she dropped it from a standing height above me, hit me square on the forehead. Who could really mind waking up to that, when I love the way a dog's chin looks from below. You never really got the full effect of that with the dachshunds we had as children.

It's supposed to rain for the next 4 days. Guess this means I will NOT mow my lawn, but it will instead grow and grow while I wait. Some people mow their lawns BEFORE the grass is shin-height. At least I went to the dump this morning on my way to work. The dump man liked me, he said I had a good sense of humor. Nice to be appreciated by someone. Dump men are not easy to please, either.