June 9, 2008

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For some reason

I had a compulsion,

From my little prison,

To write some fiction

Using the diction

of Adam Sandler’s Cajun minion.

What a desecration

Of words held so often in jubilation!

Yet, I wait in anticipation

For the next line in my creation.

Without great satisfaction,

For I have lost traction,

And now have to cease without proper action.

The End

Colleen Sohn



So, this is what I wore on Friday  – a wool turtleneck sweater and a wool jacket.  I was still cold.  Friday was June 6th.  As you can imagine, I was awfully disappointed.

On a happier note, here is our little Princess Buttercup.  Look at that sweet face!  She is lying in the cat house Gregory made.  The cats were not actually using it, and I thought we should get rid of it, but then, whaddya know?  The little miss suddenly had to take a nap in it.  So, it stays.  Cutie.

Finally, how gorgeous is this sky?  We had a bit of luck yesterday, sunny and warm enough to work outside all day.  This was my present as I sat in the back yard to admire the fruits of our labor.  I weeded, trimmed a couple trees and bushes, cut up branches, dead-headed the iris, and made some peony bouquets for the neighbors, so nice after Friday’s turtleneck disappointment.

Gregory mowed the lawn, did some painting, finished a brick border, and made a little door in the north side of our fence for the cats.  Really, the cat, Paris, because she has an awfully hard time getting back into the yard once she’s exited from the door made expressly for her on the south side.  Why a little door?  Well, that cute kitty from the photo above does not scale fences, no siree, not becoming of a princess, I suppose.  Anyway, she must have thought that the first door was exit only because she would cry and cry in the front  or by the north gate to let her in.  As soon as we showed her the new spot, she went around and around the house in a loop at least four times.  I was weeding on one side and Gregory was laying bricks on the other and we would holler with delight at each other, “Here she is again!”

It’s the small things…