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current mood: mushy
Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars...
Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars...
Here's a bonus button. This one is from Lynne's collection, but I think I may have one like it deeply buried in my container o' buttons.



Tom and I have been gradually giving The Compound's main residence a thorough cleaning over the past two or three weeks. I knew Greg was coming for his signing this past weekend, and my sister was hoping to visit Bobo Butterbean with her dog Harley at Thanksgiving. I wanted everything to be in order before their arrivals.
I THOUGHT I'd taken care of all the dust. But then Tim's boss dropped by to do an inspection, and you can see by her expression that I missed a spot. The Big H is so relentless about these things.

Apparently, for me, Halloween was all about the tricks. I tried for hours to upload my Halloween photo set to Flickr--a photo set I've been working on for several weeks just for the holiday, including costuming and setting--with help from Tom on enhancements to The Compound.
Belatedly, from our coven to yours:

Thanks for lunch! And, er, what were we just saying about the need to stay vigilant?
Nausea. Nausea and sporadic, severe stomach cramps with no other problems. I don't know what this is, but I don't like it. Happened Monday, then I thought I was over it. Ate a BLT after the gym Tuesday morning and was fine. For hours. And then I wasn't. AT ALL. However, since there are no other symptoms, and Lindsey gave me some anti-nausea pills, I'm taking a wait-and-see attitude. Those of you who I've promised to put in my will? I didn't. So get that gleam out of your eyes.
My hair is so terrible I refuse to look at myself in the mirror. I have an appointment for a cut on Thursday. This little stomach thing had BETTER NOT interfere.
Speaking of getting my hair did...
Lynne went out of town for a few days on business, and we got to keep Minute and Sparky at Camp Compound. Those of you who know of Margot's very emo, get-the-hell-away-from-me-you-freak personality (she may or may not take after me) might be surprised, but she and Minute played hard every morning. Outside. In the dirt. And Minute is white. Or she's supposed to be. Then in the afternoons, Minute played hard with Pixie and Rex. In the dirt. With the addition of Pixie saliva.
Would you let a friend come back to find two fuzzy mudpies at the end of the leash (Hi, Jeffrey!)? I thought not.




Today, Tim and his boss had to do an off-site inspection. Afterward, they dropped by The Compound, where The Big H immediately took over the conference table and had a meeting with Rex. I was there to document their interaction.



Current Photo Friday theme: Dawn

Photos behind a cut to save your monitor space.
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