I must do better at updating this old blog. It's neglected. There is only so much time, and so many things I want to accomplish, and somehow time passes and I don't accomplish much on my list. I'm blogging in bed with coffee this morning, after dipping a toe into Twitter. I'm @bossylittledogs there, if you are a Tweety sort and want to say hi. I've been on Twitter for years and barely use it - I skim it and occasionally retweet something, but never quite got the hang of it. But it is where the cool kids hang out, so I've decided I need to start spending more time there. I'm hoping it will be like my initial scoffing at Pinterest - I just didn't see the point, until I started using it and became hooked on organizing recipes and other things. Now I rely on it. I can pop open the app on my phone while I'm in Publix and review the ingredients for that curry I want to make, etc. So handy. So I may decide I like Twitter after all. It could happen.
Of course, this morning I peeked at Twitter and of the first handful of tweets, two were about people losing their beloved dogs. Yeah, perhaps this wasn't a good week for me to take up Twitter. I can't even bring myself to replace Murphy's picture yet.
Sophie's doing fine. The runny poop was gone for a good ten days, but it might be coming back a bit. We still have no idea, but she's happy and eating and all that good stuff, so for now I'm chalking it up to Just One of Those Things. I was walking her yesterday when Porch Cat came a runnin', all happy to see us, until he realized what he was doing and skidded to a halt, turned away, and peed on a bush. "Coming to see you? Don't be crazy! I just had a sudden urge to mark this particular holly! Nothing to do with you! Nuh-uh!" My initial impression that PC is a boy appears confirmed. The marking, and the fact that it's been several months now and I haven't woke up to kittens on my porch, yeah, he has to be a boy. He appreciates the bed on the porch and his catnip sock and the occasional meal, but he has no interest in becoming a house cat, and that's fine with me. A cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do, and as long as I don't wake up to a cat giving birth on my porch, we're cool like this.
I have no fun plans this weekend, which makes two weekends in a row of behaving like a responsible adult and doing housework and taxes and boring grownup stuff like that. Adulthood is so overrated. I do have a couple of Disney trips planned for April, but yeah, this weekend I must be a grownup. The car is filthy and needs a good cleaning, ditto the windows, there's clutter everywhere (it's amazing how the mess just builds up during the week when I'm the ONLY ONE HERE! - I blame Sophie). It's 7 a.m. and I'm fully caffeinated, so it's time to get started on Responsible Adulting.