These things used to be mine, I guess they still are, I want them back

Puppy E bounced out of bed and down the hall this morning and promptly smashed the champagne flute that was sitting on the end table, left there from last night. A nice thing about inexpensive dishes is that when they break you don't feel any real concern other than for the potential glass cuts in puppy paws while ushering him gently back to bed. Daddy is still in bed; go cuddle him; keep him warm while I clean up the glass.

There was sunshine yesterday, enough so that it was possible to go outside awhile and walk the dogs. Enough that Shawn got a little sunburn on the tip of his nose. And now it's raining again. I always forget how much rain there is in the summer, even here.

Last night G & R came over for drinks to say goodbye to Shawn as he prepares to leave for Vancouver. I always find them easier to take when I'm drinking. They walked home, leaving their car in the driveway and effectively ensuring that we'll have to see them again this morning sober when they return to fetch it. It's a strange thing that when I've had alcohol the night before I always wake up early unable to fall back asleep. We walked them home at 1:00 in the morning to convince them it couldn't be such a long walk if we were able to manage it in both directions. Puppy E came with us.

Today is Father's Day. It is special because I adore my father - and it's a time that nothing I can say on the subject is adequate to express how fortunate I feel to have been raised by such a man. There's a kind of allegiance that never changes when you have loved and been loved this way. I no longer let other things interfere.

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