Since You-Know-Who is at it again - too busy watching the Olympics and futzing with Heart-A-Rama - I have commandeered the blog this week. Note the updated selfie. Pensive, isn't it? Much better than that silly thing with the Groucho gear plastered all over my face.
I had a bout of illness in the past weeks, giving me time to read the novel you see here. There's nothing better than a good love story, and just in time for Valentine's Day, too. Henry is a nice little boy who brings Charley home to be his bestie. Henry gets to do everything with Charley. He gets to walk him, he gets to feed him, and he gets to play with him. But his parents say that Charley can't sleep with Henry. Oh, that Henry. When Charley cries on his first night, Henry walks him around the house. He lifts him up to peer out the window and look at the moon. They sing together. Love. Love. Love. I won't reveal where Henry's parents find Charley the next morning, but, let me tell you, it took me three whole nights before I made my way into a bed that was bigger, softer and warmer than the one YKW stupidly thought I'd sleep in.
YKW has a couple projects in the works, I think. Her New Year's resolution was to write one haiku a day. You know, a haiku is just three lines, seventeen syllables in all. Well, guess what? She's now twelve days behind. I have also seen great piles of books appearing from everywhere. Over the years they have slipped beneath beds, in closets, under chairs, in the refrigerator. They all have bookmarks in them. I am guessing that she plans to finally knock them off before buying and reading anything new. We'll see how that goes. This is a list of some of those dusty, bent up books that are now neatly piled on the floor next to my favorite blanket.
A Guide to Birds of South Africa
The French Lieutenant's woman
Berlin Stories
High Wind in Jamaica
Persian Pickle Club
Kate
Readers Companion to Cuba
The Book of God
The Scarlet Feather
I'll be watching that pile which is crowding my personal space. If it doesn't begin to shrink, I know exactly what to do.
Barks to you.
GB (Mrs. George Burns) the Blogging Doggy
