It's roughly quarter til twelve...and the best way to start this post is that I've been up since seven a.m. (cursed barking dogs...lovable because their mine...but some days) on top of three hours of sleep because I thought it would be a good idea to have some Internet playtime last night...which I enjoyed and really needed... even though I knew today needs to be a productive writing day...Okay, so dogs wake me up an hour before the alarm...I'll survive.
If you really know me...and know how much of a morning person I'm really not...you can appreciate the sarcasm in that statement.
It's raining, great...
It is great, really, we need the rain...what is not great is that one dog is now condemned to the garage most of the day (don't worry, he's on a fairly long lead he'll have lots of outdoors roll in the mud time before I drag him back in for the bubblebath that will make him house friendly again...the other dog, cute puppy girl in heat is condemned to spend the day at my feet and not worshipping the ground he walks on...(usually, he worships ...but today she thinks it's the end of the world because they can't play.)
So he's outside barking...
And she's inside whining...
I'm really not getting any writing done.
Maybe I should take her for a walk? Sounds like fun...yes, it's raining...but it's only a drizzle, maybe a little heavier than a drizzle but I'm not going to melt, ya know...
I put her on the lead (all I need is an escaped dog in heat) and we go out the back door. The smell of death is immediate. I know ewww welcome to my life...
So I'm ready to kill the cat that has probably returned from a night out prowling for dinner (but honestly I really didn't believe it was a fresh kill or kitty prey size) too much stink...
And Jazzi girl is all over it...
She's pulling and jerking and whining and really just bound and determined to find the dead thing...and all I can think is I hope the coyotes didn't take down the deer I saw limping around a few days ago...
Curiosity peeked, we tromp out into the prairie behind the house in search of death...
It's still early by the way...still lots of time to write...later...
We don't find the dead thing and I think we're both a little disappointed but by now we are both fairly soaked through...it was slightly harder than a drizzle at some points...
And I look down...
And my beautiful girl is covered from head to toe with burrs...
I look down at me...
You got it...covered.
So now, I get to de-burr the wet dog(did I mention mud covered too?) before we can even go in the house...easy for me, I just strip at the back door...
So how long does it take to de-burr a wet, not impressed long haired pooch? I'll just say the morning is gone...
And after all of that Petey is still barking, Jazzi is still whining...there is something bigger than a dead bunny somewhere in the back field...and I haven't written a single word on the ms that still isn't complete and should have been wrapped up two weeks ago...
Also...since it is painfully obvious that I am not writing...I found Lady Talks A Lot, a blogger who asked the question, "Would you have sex for a million dollars?"
OMG...how many arguments have I had over this very question (especially when the two movies that dared ask this question in the eighties were hot topic material.) If you so desire...you can go there to see my answer in the comment section...but I beg, if you comment there...please come back and share your thought here as well...
I am always so amazed at how many people get righteously offended by the question...
I guess my POV is highly affected by life experience and then there the life experiences of others who really put a different spin on trading sex for money
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