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It is a beautiful morning in Chicago. A day of hope and leasure in a world so full of injustice and pain. Our lives go on separate paths but we are united as one as boomers who care for one another like family. Gone are the carefree days of our youth as we get older each day and our aches and pains trouble us. It is just the way it is geting older....


The gray hair or no hair replaces the luster and shine of pictures in our photo albums and the lines of passage fill our face in silent dignity. We walk a little slower or not at all. We go to sleep earlier and seem to get less done. It is just the way it is getting older...

We watch another gerneration grow up and they are having children we love even more. We meet new friends to replace some that have faded away or died. We find new hobbies to keep us busy. We give old clothes away in search of new clothes that fit our fancy. It is the way it is getting older....

We stop to smell the roses like we never did before. We count our blessings like they are the last we will enjoy. We take the time to help others who are hurting. We volunteer instead of earning a paycheck. We get melancoly at times wondering where our life went in such a hurry. It is just the way it is getting older...

This Sunday I LOVE getting a little older for it is the way it is and always shall be. I won't fight it, try to delay it or worry about my physical looks or my lack ofenergy. I will go to church today and thank God for my blessings recieved and prayers answered. And for the disappointments and failures I have had, they will float away on the fluffy, white clouds of yesterday..

Happy Sunday to all and to all a good day...

smiles, love and happiness to all. We deserve it today... Easy

As some of you know, I am legally blind due to a brain infection that left me with vision only in the right side of each eye. It's can't see, can see, can't see, can see. It is not very common and hard to explain to people and leaves me not able to see anything from center left. Looking at me, it is impossible to know I have a problem and after ten years now I have adjusted quite well but it a constant mind game I play trying to get my brain to compensate...

I bring this up because when Janet and I are walking in a parking lot or crossing a street she has a habit of getting ahead of me and I'm forced to look left and am hesitant to keep up with her. She will look back for me and apologize time and again for not remembering. If I had a cane or a sign on my forehead she would surely remember but I don't and she feels bad but I tell her it is ok and such is life with a disability that is unseen to others...

Another problem I have is when a man sticks out his hand to shake mine I don't see it coming and some have thought I was rude but that is not the case. Now, I look for body language and compensate and rarely miss it but it is a constant battle to act like everyone else...

It's the same watching TV when I see a man talking to himself and wonder why not knowing another person is to his left on the screen. This is also why I always sit on the extreme left side of a movie theater to keep the action to my right..

Probably the worst though is not being able to read books anymore because it is so frustrating not being able to know where a sentence starts. I have to look left and keep going until I find the start of a sentence. I see half words that makes no sense to me...

I have also walked into the woman's bathroom because all I can see is the M A N and not W O M E N. I have been laughed atand embarrassed when I can't find the urinal. Why are woman's bathrooms cleaner then men's??? And where is the powder they are always putting on their nose? And what kind of powder is it? Talc or baby???

I bring this up to remind others to respect and help others who have difficulty with menial tasks that we all take for granted. Every I remind Janet to run interference for me she feels so bad for forgetting and it is not her fault. She feels bad again but but I don't because it has taken me 10 years to adjust as I still forget to look left on demand. The brain simply does not work that way even though it does compensate a little...

I do get a real nice feeling when Janet puts her arm inside mine and helps me across the street whicvh she does now. And I really enjoy when she reads me the 'Nice Adams Stories' from the Hemingway book I bought a couple weeks ago. And she is very patient when I take my turn to read and I stumble over words that any grade school kid wouldn't. I am no longer afraid to read aloud and hope to be able to read a scripture in church which I did so well before my brain surgery...

Please remember that some disabled people don't look like they are and try not to laugh or lose your temper when others don't behave like most of us do. You will get over the mistake but to the disabled person it sticks with us much longer and we feel so frustrated that we are different. I don't want to be different. I want to be just like you. I want so badly to catch a thrown baseball again, to walk across the street carefree and easy. I want to be able to see all here is to see. But, I can't...

So, Janet walks on my left, sits on my right and we find love in the middle. Chicago scares me with it's fast pace and instant decisions and I didn't realize how hard it is to just get by so far away from the Penthouse Cabin where I have little to worry about. I feel privileged to be legally blind hoping that I can be an example to others to not forget us and our handicap...

I CAN see it is another wonderful day God has given me and my sky is just as blue the sun just as bright. I am a survivor in so many ways and sometimes I wonder why I have been chosen to be half blind or to have Cancer. I think sometimes it is not to wonder why but to use it as a positive to others who may come after me. It is part of my healing process. If I can help one person fight off the depression of major changes it is enough for me to smile and be happy and full of hope for a better day...

I hope your Thursday is a good one. I hope you can be an example to others of how precious this life and not take anything for granted:wink. I appreciate every day when I get out of bed and walk right by Janet who is waiting on my left for a hug or a kiss. And then we laugh....

I really wanted to connect with my Father when I was a young but I wasn't what he wanted to be and he wasn't what I expected him to be. His life centered around fixing cars and working in the asphalt paving business and I wanted to talk about books and deep thoughts of why we there was poverty, wars or racism. He dropped out of high school and I was an A student and our paths seldom crossed concerning serious issues. At the dinner table we talked about the one thing we did have in common which was baseball. He could relate any moral or belief with a baseball euphemism such as when I couldn't tell a screwdriver from a Philips he would say, "Swing and a miss". I'm not sure who was frustrated more, him or me...

I respect my Father more then any man alive because he woke up at 6 EVERY single workday, loved my Mother with all his heart and soul and today I still can't remember a day when he called in sick to sit on the couch and get lazy drinking beer. He would come home with horrible cuts on his hands and Mom would clean them up and he would head out to the garage to work on another car for a neighbor or a friend. Finding Dad was often done by following his blood trail. We always had food on the table and in the fridge and lived in a nice neighborhood in Detroit. He taught me right from wrong and when I was wrong he would let me know that the Plankey name meant something to him and I was not to do anything to shame it. You could say he was a blue collar guy and I was a stuffed shirt kid. I knew early on that I disappointed him and have been chasing his acceptance to this day....

I wanted my Father to be perfect and he wasn't. I wanted him to know everything but he doesn't. I wanted him to be rich ad he wasn't. I wanted him to like the same things I did but he didn't. What he did do was respect our differences. What he did do was play catch with me until his arm fell off or the street lights came on. What he did was make every kid wish he was their Father. So why was I so hard on him? Why didn't we sit down and talk out our differences like men should do? I guess it was because I was just a child and didn't know any better when I thought I knew it all....

When I became a man and after I got home from the Marine Corps and married I realized that my Dad was a whole lot smarter then I remembered. The things I thought were so important weren't important at all and I began to respect him for teaching me the values I have today. He is the one who gave me my deep feelings for the rights of others and to respect people who have a different point of view. He showed me by example what a Father must be to his sons while still holding on to his ways that were contrary to mine....

I remember the day when my son Jeff was 6 and got a piece of chicken stuck in his throat and I stood by while he leaped into action and extracted it from his throat like a master surgeon. I loved Jeff as much as he did but I have always wondered why I stood there so helpless while he sprung into action. I know now that it was simply because he had lived more years then me and that is almost too simple to be true. We all get a whole lot smarter just racking up the years. I relate it to a mechanic who is 50 and one who is 20. The older one knows whats wrong with the car in seconds through the experience of years under the hood when the young man will think up a million different reasons why it will not run and replace 14 things until he figures out what went wrong. Or it's like the old guy who stands on the hill with a young man who says lets run down there and see those pretty girls and the old man says, "Lets walk down there and see them"....

I bring up this topic this morning because I am experiencing a difficult time relating to my sons and I wonder why I can't and it hurts so much I can't get through a simple day without agonizing over why we can't get on the same page. Older people don't always have the answers no more then a young man does but communicating is the key. I'm sorry to say my Father and I didn't sit down and work out our differences like we should have and today I still have that same problem with my boys..

. I find great satisfaction that now we are working hard and openly to understand a problem in a reasonable and honest way. I know I could never do that talking to a man on the street I don't know. I write this today hoping your differences of opinions with the ones we love can be worked out without stupid arguments and bull headed defiance and rather with love and compassion and the realization that we don't know everything and our thoughts and idea's are not always best but if we can sit down on the deck or even on the phone and have a dialogue so we can get to where we want to be......

I love you Dad. Wanna play catch????

This is taken from the Yahoo most viewed stories this morning:



KABUL, Afghanistan - An Army sergeant complained in a rare opinion article that the U.S. flag flew at half-staff last week at the largest U.S. base in Afghanistan for those killed at Virginia Tech but the same honor is not given to fallen U.S. troops here and in Iraq.



In the article issued Monday by the public affairs office at Bagram military base north of Kabul, Sgt. Jim Wilt lamented that his comrades' deaths have become a mere blip on the TV screen, lacking the "shock factor" to be honored by the Stars and Stripes as the deaths at Virginia Tech were.

"I find it ironic that the flags were flown at half-staff for the young men and women who were killed at VT, yet it is never lowered for the death of a U.S. service member," Wilt wrote.

He noted that Bagram obeyed President Bush's order last week that all U.S. flags at federal locations be flown at half-staff through April 22 to honor 32 people killed at Virginia Tech by a 23-year-old student gunman who then killed himself.

"I think it is sad that we do not raise the bases' flag to half-staff when a member of our own task force dies," Wilt said.

According to the Defense Department, 315 U.S. service members have died in and around Afghanistan since the U.S.-led offensive that toppled the Taliban regime in late 2001, 198 of them in combat.

NATO's International Security Assistance Force said that the flags of all its troop-contributing nations are flown at half-staff for about 72 hours after the service member's death "as a mark of respect when there is an ISAF fatality."

Sgt. 1st Class Dean Welch, who works with Wilt at the U.S.-led coalition public affairs office, said the essay is a "soldier's commentary, not the view of the coalition and not the view of the U.S. forces."

Welch added that such outspoken opinion pieces are rare.

Wilt suggested that flags should fly at half-staff on the base where the fallen service member was working and in the states where they hail from. He said some states do this, but not all of them.

He wrote that the death of a U.S. service member is just as violent as those at the university last week, but it lacks the "shock factor of the Virginia massacre."

"It is a daily occurrence these days to see X number of U.S. troops killed in Iraq or Afghanistan scrolling across the ticker at the bottom of the TV screen. People have come to expect casualty counts in the nightly news; they don't expect to see 32 students killed," he wrote.

"If the flags on our (operating bases) were lowered for just one day after the death of a service member, it would show the people who knew the person that society cared, the American people care."

I was walking to the gas station for a paper this morning and saw all the kids waiting for the school bus and it seemed there were as many parents as there were kids. The kids were laughing and playing games and the parents were solemn and on guard, standing with the kids or in cars nearby and all had one thing in common. They were paying attention to the surroundings as well as me as I passed no doubt in fear of someone enticing a child into a car or snatching them away for any number of terrible reasons. It pains me to realize that it is a different world then when I was one of those kids waiting to take me to school...

I have vivid memories of riding the school bus up in Upper Michigan before I moved to Detroit in the 2nd grade where I walked the 6 blocks to school on the northwest side of Detroit. I remember how cold it was during the winter and of my buddy 'Ticky' who got his tongue stuck to a piece of metal while looking out the window. We laughed about that then and now and of the lisp he talked with for 3 weeks. I remember the smell of a bus which had a leathery, musty aroma and the fumes of an antiquated exhaust system. And I remember that my parents weren't with me and how I had to watch out for my little brother Jimmy who hated school so much he would try to hide in a snow bank to miss the bus. Come to think of it, the school bus could be hid in the same snow banks that doubled as ski jumping hills us Finn's liked to build. I think we once found a whole family living in one. Ok, that's a stretch Armstrong....

I was on the safety patrol in Detroit where I would put on my white belt of courage and prestige and hold my arms out to wait for the traffic to clear to let the kids cross the street. I liked even more getting out of school a few minutes early to get to my post and I took my 'job' very serious but I don't see that anymore either. I have read a few days ago about another adult who was hit by a car guarding the kids and one was quoted as saying it was like being in a war zone. I wonder when the world changed so much from the carefree kids days into the almost vigilante care given by parents to keep the kids safe?

Other thoughts of my school days when young are of the last day of school before the summer break when we would bust out after the bell rang and run like on a cloud shouting schools out even before Alice Cooper wrote his song and before grown men used woman's names. If we had a mail friend named Alice we would have been laughed at, picked on and went home weeping telling his parents to change his name from Gene to George....

I remember the 6 block walk to school when I tried to catch up to Phyliss Bergsman who I had a crush on and getting berated by the other boys for walking with a girl and having a girls name taboot. I remember having crab apple fights when we would rape said tree and they would be left on the pavement to be run over by passing cars. I remember stopping at the house that had a pet goose in the yard and I thought it was a weird guard goose for sure as he honked at us so pretty in white with a pumpkin colored beak. I remember the pretty flowers in the well manicured yards and the Moms who would wave to us or give us candy and the fathers mowing the lawns and all seemed so good in the city and in the world. I do not remember a kid going missing or snatched but kids sometimes wouldn't go straight home and parents would stop and ask if I had seen Mary Sue or Billy...

Times change like they always do and priorities change and rules change to keep our kids safe and I wonder if this is a normal progression of life and living. Is our world so different today that our memories of them are so different from my thoughts I had this morning going to get my paper? I guess they have. It sure doesn't stop me from remembering fondly my days of the school bus and the safety patrol badge I wore a long time ago and I still smile thinking of it now....

Happy Monday to all from the home front where we bought Janet an engagement ring yesterday that sparkles like diamonds (3 of them) against the sun so high in the sky. I don't know who was happier, her or me...

Smiles and hugs and prayers for all....Easy

Did you read that the Iraqi Army is now building a wall in Baghdad that is 10 feet high and 3 miles long that will try to separate the Sunni's from the Shiites? Does anyone else see the insanity of thinking a wall can be built to keep them apart? Is this the best our government can do to figure out how to find peace? Are our troops helping build this wall? Maybe we should start building those huge archaic sling slots called catapults too. Or maybe build a wall at the Mexican border to keep illegals out. Oh wait, were doing that too!!!!

I am currently writing another Cancer manifesto which I hope will let others know what a cancer patient feels after getting the bad news and how others treated me and with the chemo I went through and what it felt like when I was told I wouldn't live to see tomorrow. It is taking time because I want it to be right and waiting for God to give me inspiration to choose the right words. Stay tuned, it will be a blog in your neighborhood soon...

I have lost my temper twice in Chicago and not at Janet but on politics and my son Jeff's battle with alcoholism. This troubles me but I do realize that I am not in the woods anymore where it takes more then a squirrel eating the bird seed to make me angry. I'm not in Kansas anymore Toto and must realize their is injustice in many more places that will make me angry and I get very angry when I get angry. I pray for guidance daily knowing I can't change the world and others. That is the up to God to inspire us and I pray to Him for help...

A special 'hope your feeling better' to Junie this morning who has been absent a bit and I know you all miss her and Pappa like I do. They are two of our super special boomerites who spread kindness, happiness and encouragemnet to us and when they blog or comment we feel better about ourselves and about life in general. They come as a package of all that is good in America and Iowa and the sunshine they bring to us is beyond words. Happy Saturday Allen and Junie from the president of your fan club.....

Time is flying by and I will be heading back to the Penthouse Cabin the first week of May and I don't know what It will be like going home to be alone again if only for a month until Janet heads north to see my paradise on earth. I've tasted her world and love it and I joined boomer to find a woman to enjoy it with and the excitement I feel is as real as the thought of going home alone. Why am I going home alone? To clean up the bachelor pad for sure and get a well drilled for drinking water. As for the outhouse? Janet says it's ok for now and she's taken a leap of faith to even say that I'm sure. Back home is a work in progress like I am. Good things are worth waiting for, eh? Ya right.....

Happy Saturday and I joined a new group on feelings you may be interested in. If you don't have feelings, NEVER MIND....

smiles and hugs, Easy

In the morning, my sweet Gracie and I sit at the dining room table drinking our coffee, 'coo'ing at each other and looking out the window which is very similar to my mornings back home at the Penthouse Cabin. I find extreme comfort in that while The nice lady next door throws bread pieces onto her roof and we watch the citified birds and squirrels attack them with a passion while stray cats and a chicken (really) wander by for the other seeds she puts out on the ground. It is so different from back home but it is still the same Bob Seger....
We laugh and smile like lovers in love do and we have taken to conjuring up stories of the people and critters who walk, scamper or fly by our window taking kids to the bus stop or hurrying to work or wherever they are off to so early in the morning. I learned this in grade school when Mrs. Fredericks would put a large picture of a woman hanging her laundry on the line on an aisle and we would use our imagination to write a story of what the picture brought to our mind. Wherever you are Mrs. Fredericks, I thank you for jump starting my imaginative mind at so young an age...

We see the same same pair of mourning doves where the male chases the female around the roof for her attention while the female is only interested in the bread crumbs and knowing they mate for life makes me wonder when she turns her attentions back to him. I think it is when the sun is high in the sky and they are high in the Oak tree away from our eyes. We see the squirrels stuck on the roof because the cats are down below and his tail waves in a nervous way wondering how he will get from the roof to the nearby tree and his comfort zone. We see the man who walks by in well worn and dirty clothes wearing beat up shoes who shuffles slowly off to the bus stop to catch a ride to work at his menial job that barely feeds his large family. I respect him for what he is and what he does as he passes by our window into the world of concrete streets of Chicago...

We discuss who will make breakfast and I usually win that honor because it is such a pleasure to see her smile and say, OK. We discuss what is in store for us this morning and today it is cleaning the garage to find room to put our new car in which we shall have soon. We waste away a morning in a wonderful way of happiness and joy discussing the ways I can find the time to best feed the blogging beast in me. We discuss a way I can be comfortable sitting here writing while she catches up on her computer stuff as I do the same in another room. Comfortably numb, comfortably apart, comfortably comfortable. It is a unique learning process that we are still honing and are amazed when we suddenly look up and it's 10 or 11 and we wonder where the morning went and why we have not accomplished anything but are having so much fun doing it and we realize it went by in the way of love, don't you know...

The honeymoon isn't even over yet before it even begins as our days and nights fly by as we pinch ourselves lauding the virtues of each others good qualities and personalities we have brought together into one super personality that we hope to offer to others in love and compassion. We don't have to work hard to get there from here as it comes natural to two people who look to God for all the answers to life that we cannot explain and that is a wonderful thing for sure....

Isn't the sun a little brighter, the air a little fresher, the mind a little clearer and the problems a little less important when two people can share the good and the bad in the course of a day that God has given us to enjoy to the fullest?? Gone are the days of boredom and the wanting of a significant other to share the ups and downs equally and they don't seem so important as when worried about alone. Life is not always a picnic in a meadow of wild flowers but when two can share it together it is a piece of wedding cake to be savored and tasted for the beauty it and life is meant to be. It is a feeling beyond describing no matter how many times I try to put the thoughts to computer screen for you to read this morning when nothing happens but everything is happening as we drink our coffee and look out the window to Chicago and the people and the critters we see pass by....

Happy Thursday our friends one and all and our wish is that you also have this morning of joy and contentment that life is there for us to take and hold like there is no tomorrow and to realize there is no tomorrow but only today and it gives me chill to offer this thought to you....

Smiles, prayers and love to all!!!....Easy and my sweet Gracie..

I was walking to the store a few days ago when I saw a man on a motorcycle that had a 2-3 old kid nestled in front of him on the bike (neither had helmets) and I wondered why police are never there when this guy needed to be put in jail. I didn't wonder long as I saw a police car behind him pulling him over and I watched as he was handcuffed and put in the back of the police car while another policeman took the small child in his arms and sat in the front of the car. What possibly possessed this man to endanger the life of this child who probably was his son and what would this child remember of the experience? It is a crazy world these days and we have only to read about what happened at VTU yesterday to validate our concerns....

At the end of the month I will be going back to the Penthouse Cabin before Gracie comes up to visit in June and I really don't know what to expect when I get back to the Penthouse Cabin. It seems my life is changing again in ways I had not expected but am enjoying very much as much as anyone can when my life takes a left turn onto a strange street.

Gracie is sleeping in this morning because she had trouble sleeping last night and here I am at the computer alone like I did back home. This is the first time this has not happened since I have been here and it reminds me of back home when I wrote out of boredom and my life had more questions then answers. Now the question I have is will I get back my urgency to write and write and write more.

Gracie wonders also about this and brought up an intriguing idea that many authors live eccentric misguided and erratic lives and Hemingway comes to mind as a typical poster boy. After all, he did take his own life in the end. I wonder now that I have stability and happiness with Gracie here in Chicago whether I have lost my proverbial writing edge. My counselor of many years, also named Janet, has told me over and over to keep writing using it as therapy as I cope with a divorce, losing my eyesight and having cancer. I have thought about this alot and haven't been able to come up with a decent rationalization. I no longer feel like I have to write every single day and no longer feel like I have to jump into writing a sequel to the Trout Falls Chronicles. Now that I have realized my dream to write and get a book published have I lost that desire to write?? I wish I knew the answer like I wish I knew why this gunman had to ruin so many lives and the lives of their loved ones.....

Having said this I want to tell all of my friends that I am sorry I have not commented to you like I have once done in the past even though I have always felt guilty in this regard and I think we all share this burden about not keeping in contact with the people who mean so much to us. 'The news these days seems overwhelming at times' and this is a quote from Tony Wolf that is right on this morning. So many puzzling questions of people gone crazy that affects us all in troubling ways. It seems when we get a handle on life and get into a comfort zone we lose it like a vapor of wind that passes us by on a warm day. When our hope for the world is damaged by one lone gunman it brings us back to Lee Harvey Oswald who took away our Camelot not to mention John Kennedy. So, what do we do as we read of more soldiers dying in an insane war and having our President being a laughing stock around the world that has led other countries to hate us with a passion that leads them to suicide bombings and chaos???

I wish I had an answer to these questions in my life and yours but I don't and that makes me angry this morning. Even more angry then after reading the news today. I pray to God when I don't have the answers and that is the only answer I can find today and in that I find some separate peace for sure....

It is even difficult to tell you to have a happy Tuesday and end it with a smile and I even think God is not smiling thinking of what us humans can do to destroy such a good thing we have going here on planet earth....

Yesterday was a decent day in Chicago with the sun high in the sky and the air was fresh and free and I decided to take Pippen the wonder dog for a walk to the park down the road. It was warm enough not be put his jean jacket on (whew) and Gracie showed mew how the yoyo leash thingy worked and I noticed a small yellow baggie tied around said thingy and I asked her what that was for and she said that it was for the poop problem and I realized that maybe I shouldn't walk the dog and wait for him to act like a bear in the woods. I have this aversion to dog poop or any form of poop and asked her what is the politically correct way to collect said poop. After hearing her describe how I reach down with my hand in the bag and pick it up and reverse the bag I knew I would get it wrong and get poopified for sure. And how do I carry this collected poop? Do I carry it like it is my lunch in a brown bag or do I put it in my pocket?. I made a mental note to bring air freshener along too. I prefer lilac.......

Coming from the woods up north this was a shock to me and when did walking the dog get so complicated and disgusting? I surely do love Gracie and Pippen so I gave in after asking her when the last time Pippen had eaten and she said last night so I took some comfort in that. When I asked her what I should do if he has diarrhea I conjured up thoughts of having to bring my Rambo knife to cut a swatch of grass and wondered where I should put a sod replacement. She said my backpack silly. Silly is as silly does....

We got off to a good start on our walk but I soon realized the dog was walking me and not me walking the dog which I have only used as a metaphor in comment to others. I also realized that Pippen the pooper dog has a bladder problem too. He had to stop at every tree, fire hydrant and pole to raise his leg and leave a squirt or two. Then he would dig his back legs into the grass and kick sods of dirt faster then a speeding bullet that only superman could deflect with his hands. I wonder how he handled the poop problem knowing that poop was my kryptonite for sure....

I kept waiting for the poop party to begin but it didn't so of course I wondered if he needed a laxative but knew I wouldn't ask Gracie about that for sure. Pippen tired very quickly and his tongue hung out so far that he was tripping over it and I thought of the "Kiss" guys tongue and wondered if that happened to him when he walked. Knowing his shadowy past with substance abuse I wondered who picked up his poop....

I've had a hard time getting used to this city lifestyle which is as foreign to me as a "Foreigner" and I smile getting two rock bands into the scoop on poop. When we got back to home I sat on the porch much relieved that he hadn't pooped but I didn't care if he did because technically Janet was responsible for his poop or her front lawn that I am just getting used to calling our lawn. Am I right or what????

Pippen went into a semi colon trouble free coma from being pooped out and laid on the lawn like he he wasn't in shape and maybe not so much a wonder dog as I wondered how often he does take walks and poop. I have now taken on the responsibility of getting him into shape and now call him Private Pippen and I am his drill instructor basking in the glory of rememberance of my lousy Marine Corps D.I. who could hand out the poop with the best or worst of them....

I have come up with a sure fire poop proof way of walking him from now on. Rule #1: Pippen shall fast until I take him for a walk after I finish my blog on hopefully anything but poop. I went from Hemingway to poop too fast and I wonder more about this city life I have enjoyed until the scoop on poop came up. I realize that my love is so strong I can put my poop fears behind me like I can try to stay away from Pippens behind for obvious reason. Rule # 2: If he does poop I need a hefty bag with surgical gloves and mask and a clothespin for my nose......

What really scares me is I know I will get more of a response to my blogs writing of poop them I will Hemingway as I wonder if Ernest walked the dog that pooped too. Oh well, I'm all pooped out now and have no one to pick up after me. Such is life and living in the city....

Happy Saturday and please forgive me for the scoop on poop but to me it is as important as walking the dog and I always want to do the right thing while Pippen does his thing on lawns all over Summitt, Illinois.....

smiles and lilacs for you......

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