Pup is suffering terribly as a result of his surgery. Physically, he's in pain, and he looks as if he can't stand the ignominy of wearing that ridiculous cone around his head. It catches on everything, and he just has the most pathetic look on his face. We've traumatized our dog. I feel terrible for him. He's also having the most difficult time taking a whiz. Poor Guthrie. When we got Gomez and Zelda fixed, they recovered likity splikity. Maybe it's different for cats. I guess we'll see when my daughter's new little kitty gets neutered. I know. Don't say it.
Erm, what else? I have a trillion things to do in my capacity as Class Mom, Assistant Class Mom, and Real Life Mom in the next week and a half. And time is running out! Parties to plan and run, gifts to buy. Husband and I are taking this weekend trip in celebration of fifteen years of marital bliss--our first ever without the children since we had 'em. Then next week, our VA friends are stopping by for a night on their way to Massachusetts. Then we have to drive daughter up to sleep away camp on the 29th. I took her to buy boots and a duffel bag and a new bathing suit this afternoon. This trip is costing a small fortune, but I know she's going to have a wonderful time. I loved
camp. Of course, I spent the whole time either riding horses or making out with cute boys. Would be kinda cool if she got to do the same. Is there anything on earth that is more fun than kissing? I can't think of any. Greatest pastime ever.
And, because I cannot help but pretend that everything that interests me may interest you, here are a few links for your pleasure: First up, a discourse on theodicy
entitled Holiday in Hellmouth. Ah, religion! You never cease to astound me.
Next, Hertzberg's mini commentary
on Hillary's campaign. Think one crucial mistake he makes is that although the overt brutality committed against blacks cannot be denied, the notion that women have not and do not suffer in much the same way is one of the greatest, most misunderstood myths propagated in the history of the mankind.
And finally, a somewhat amusing diatribe on insomnia
. This lady is singing my song.