Busy with the new dog. No time to blog. Usually I can stay up late, but I think this puppy is emitting some kind of sleep ray, because every night I crash like I've been drugged and I can't pull my usual night owl routine.
Tomorrow at last, maybe, ends the soccer season that will not die. Annabelle's team is playing a rain-out game long after most teams have disbanded. I think there is something very wrong with this.
I'm posting this picture in honor of Bob Dylan's birthday, which was May 24th. I toasted him with a bottle of beer at a cook-out, but failed to mention it here. What kind of shoes are those he's wearing? Looks like's he's in Europe, so there's no telling. When I turned eight my sister Michele gave me the book, "The Red Balloon." I still have it, along with her inscription, saying that soon I would be "setting the world on fire." Yes, didn't I though? One of the things that struck me the most vividly in that book were the pictures of little boys wearing sandals with socks. I knew it was because they were European, so it was okay if their clothes were a little odd.