It's April

Different week--different circumstances. Mr. Pickel was not accepted to the doctorate program. He's now applying to two other schools. One in Oregon, the other in Virginia. Oregon says they'll still consider him as an alternate for this year. We'll see. I've counted my eggs too soon before. Trying to emotionally ignore the process until there are answers.

Dogs are good. Cash has been de-coned and de-stitched. He's a happy boy now.

Weren't we surprised last week to find that Mr. Pickel had no withholdings on his Navy retirement pay. How special to owe thousands and have no time to come up with it. Annoying and distressing.

On the bright side--there are more and more earthquakes these days. Perhaps the end of the age is near. Wouldn't that be a relief.

It's Monday

Even if the weekend is wonderful, it doesn't seem like any kind of break when you spend it with many of the same people you work with during the week. But that's life for me right now. I have many blessings to count so I'm telling myself to get over it.

We're awaiting news on Mr. Pickel's application to grad school. That will start in motion either a series of huge life changes or a big, fat chunk of status quo.

Johnny Cash, or "Cash," our very big Black Lab, is recovering from his recent surgery. He had a lipoma removed from his hip. He doesn't seem to mind the sutures, the drainage tube, or even the enormous cone around his neck. No, his complaint is being sequestered in one section of the house while the rest of us are primarily in the other. He's so needy when it comes to company that he will whine literally all night. So, during this recovery time, me--sucker that I am--have been camping on the kitchen floor with the dog. This seems to be the only way I can get any sleep. It's been two weeks already and we're expecting one more. Ugh.