Maple rolls in $&!* ... again.

My dear H is a well educated man. Very intelligent. Intuitive. A great listener. But this year he has taken to ignoring that still small voice that tells him to attach our brown furry dog, Maple, to her lead when he lets her outside.

When he does this, WITHOUT FAIL, Miss Maple makes a dash for the nearest pile of poo and rolls herself silly in it.

So, dear H has made a number of ( loud ) promises to never do THAT again, while carrying a very stinky dog down to the basement sink in a towel for yet another bath. ( Ears down, forlorn look on face ... Maple, not him ). And a week or so goes by and somehow it seems like a great idea to repeat the entire process. Sigh.

My dear H has attended 2 major universities and is a bright and perceptive person. I love him and he can give the dog all the baths he wants.

Socks Recall.

I'm not joking about this. Children's socks should be taken off the market. As soon as they are applied to feet in this home, they are discarded and flung somewhere, creating random piles of mismatched socks around the house.

Come on, people. Work with me.

Thank goodness Spring has Sprung today and we can just dismiss the whole sock thing altogether. I am collecting all of our socks and filing them under Autumn.

Speaking of Spring ... signs of life are creeping out of the ground here at the Butterhof. Daffodils peeking out. Boys playing in the mud and swinging on the rope swing. Box Elder bugs and Ladybugs in my southfacing bedroom window. Birds warming up their voices.

A good sit in the sun is in order. No socks.