This is the question I've been pondering recently. Can dogs get embarrassed? I think of it whenever I take Otter for a walk, oddly enough. He doesn't seem to have the exact look I usually see when he takes his dump, but trust me: there is one -- a sort of "hey, close the door" look. I see it on other dogs, too.
What about the algae eater in my aquarium?
What does he think about all day as he glues himself to the side of the tank? Does he think his life sucks? If there's a God -- and I'm not saying there's not -- what was he thinking when he created the algae eater? If there's reincarnation -- and I'm not saying there is -- what the hell did the person do in his/her previous life to come back as an algae eater? Is there, like, a pervert in my aquarium?
These are important questions.
It's been a quiet, non-existent spring here in flyover country, although the first real signs of summer -- hot and humid days -- have finally arrived. But the days are getting shorter. I want to believe that summer just started, but the days are getting shorter.
I'm trying to figure out my schedule for the summer. I've got Oshkosh for a week at the end of July. Then I have to go to Denver in August to cover the Democratic National Convention, then back home to St. Paul to cover the Republican National Convention and that takes us to.... Labor Day!
Where the hell did summer go? It's times like this I look forward to retirement. I want my summers back.
In around-the-house news, the weird spring weather created a first. The delphiniums bloomed before the peonies did.
By the way, the yellow siding and blue trim will be disappearing soon. The roofing and siding guy is stopping by today. We're picking a new color. I'm leaning toward colonial red -- both my and Carolie's parents' homes are colonial red, although it's a color that may work better in New England. The dark color may fade quickly, though. Anything but beige, I guess.
Continuing our tour: In the backyard, wouldn't you think the hummingbirds would be all over this beast?
Alas, no hummingbirds.
And what is this plant:
It came back to Minnesota a few years ago when I dug up some bee balm at my mother's house. I transplanted it from the perennial garden because it was clear it was going to spread. It makes a nice ground cover, even though it's heading for the grass and will probably be a major pain in the neck. It'll probably attack the neighbor's house soon. Good.