Triskadeckaphobia!

It's Friday the 13th! One of my very favorite days. I don't really understand the fear of the 13th day of the month when it falls on a Friday. Fridays are Fridays and 13ths are 13ths. If some ill wind is blowing, it's blowing. Wing it if you can and if not, don't walk under ladders, cuddle with black cats but do throw salt over your shoulder if it makes you feel better.

I like to dance naked under the moon - full or otherwise - on the 13th. Scares the beejeebees out of nosy neighbors. "There's that witch, dancing again!"

Actually, only one neighbor can see me - our property is fenced - and he's trying to get a peek through binoculars from his 2nd story bedroom window. He's also pushing 98 so if this makes him happy, so be it.

"You're gonna give that man a heart attack!" the giant squid says when he tries to catch me dancing naked in the backyard.

"But he'll die happy," I laugh.

"You're not gonna be happy when I catch you and toast your tush!"

"You gotta catch me first, squid!"

We go back and forth like this while he stalks me and I dance away. Sometimes he tackles me early on and a serious tickling session ensues but he doesn't want me lying on the wet grass so usually we go in the house right away. If I can elude him for a while, he gets "sealy" and makes unpleasant threats.

Unfortunately, those threats usually spur my vocabulary... I cast doubts about his ability to hold his own with Army grunts, Air Force flyboys and those muscle boy Marines. He ignores the remarks about grunts and flyboys - that just makes him roll his eyes. But Marines... that's a challenge and he's ready to take any of them on. His pride is at stake.

And let's face it... the giant squid's pride is healthier than his ego and his ego is bigger than Detroit... Minneapolis/St. Paul, Chicago and...

"When I get my hands on you..."

Uh huh. As if I'm a marine. Tsk.

Moving right along...

We had a joyous spring holiday. Passover was wunderbar! And Easter was great fun. You understand that the religious significance is not as important to me as the FOOD and enjoying the company at my table. To each their own.

Contrary to what the squid posted in his ramblings about our celebrations, I did NOT steal any chocolate bunny ears. I simply said thank you when several... okay, a couple dozen or more... were offered. As for the jellybeans, I plead the 5th.

"Did you steal jellybeans from the kids' baskets?"

"Moi?"

SWAT!

Tsk.

"You're not supposed to take candy from children, Sar."

"But... it's so easy!"

SWAT!

Tsk.

"She took mine, too!" David, the marine complains. (Most of his lady bimbo friends gave him an Easter basket.

"Another easy mark," I smirk.

SWAT!

Tsk.

"Wouldn't you be disappointed if I didn't take them? You wouldn't have an excuse to swat me."

"Don't need an excuse, bambina."

SWAT!

Double tsk.

So... for a Friday the 13th breakfast for me and the pups, I made a glorious meal of pancakes, bacon, and strawberry milkshakes. Both Cowboy and David knew better than to expect me to make their breakfast.

We're headed home tomorrow. It's been about nine weeks since we left and I'm anxious to see friends and spend time in my garden. I fully intend to dance naked in the moonlight as soon as possible. My elderly neighbor isn't getting any younger and it's my sworn duty to make sure he's a happy peeper.

Did I tell you I got a new foster pup? Just one - he's a giant of a pup and still hasn't figured out how to place his big clumsy paws in the right place. He's a Neapolitan Mastiff - a real beauty, about 9 months old. His people gave him to the animal rescue society because they claim they didn't know he would grow to be the size of a pony. He's pushing 160 lbs. and has a ways to go. I'm giving serious thought to buying a saddle for him. His name was "Dawg." Tsk. I've renamed him Hadrian - an ancient Roman name - and the birthplace of his breed. His favorite activities are eating and sleeping - ergo! The cats adore him.

A group of friends sent one of those email surveys. It was a fun survey and one of the questions was: Did you ever milk a cow?

Yes, I did but as I told my friends, the cow wasn't very happy about it. It kept turning its head and muttering ugly words in my direction. I told Cowboy I must have pinched something wrong. On the other hand, it might have been one of those boy cows and this city girl shouldn't have been pinching anything. A similar thing happened when I tried to milk a goat. Needless to say the Neanderthal I live with continues to tease me about this.

Just for that... I'm stripping and going out to the backyard to dance!

~Sar~