What happens when the plague hits

You're a grand old flag... in my windowbox.

A very, very belated happy Independence Day to everyone. I have had the plague. (Overly dramatic, but equally annoying.) I positively hate getting sick in the summer. It's a waste of perfectly good sunshine and warmth. And I have had whatever this is -- a cold, a bug, a pain in the you-know-where --since last Tuesday. I have had little interest in working outside, and even less to say that makes any sense, which is why you have been spared my babbling around here this past week. I didn't even get off my duff to go see fireworks.

Not a lot has been going on. A new layer of Critter Ridder has been put down as Alvin and her children continue to mow down on my front bed. My mother-in-law's St. Bernard, Lucy, donated some of her fur to the border of the garden -- I read somewhere that the hair of big dogs can freak woodchucks out and make them leave things alone.  We'll see about that. It would be a nice change of pace.

My parents came over for dinner last night (Hi Mum! Hi Bert!) and brought Rosie, my replacement sibling. (When I moved out of the house after college, I got them a dog. It was a good decision for everyone.)

Say hi, Rosie!

Hi Rosie!

Rosie is a rescue that was brought to New England from Puerto Rico.  At this point, we are guessing she is about 11 or 12. I think. My parents have had her around 10 years or so, and the shelter felt she was at least one or two at that point. I brought her home in my old Ford Contour and she was great the entire ride... until we got home. Then she threw up on the console. But I assured her it was just nerves, and she was going to go live with Mr. & Mrs. Marshmallow and never want for anything again. She took me on my word and went into the house with me. 

Mr. & Mrs. Marshmallow were less than thrilled when they saw her, but for some reason in the past 10 years, very few car rides have occurred without a little gray dog on someone's lap, hanging her head out the window. And for some reason, a certain little gray dog always manages to get some treats at supper. And for probably a similar reason, a certain little gray dog always has a little pillow to sit on when she comes over to visit.

Blue Steele.

Magnum.

Not that she's cute or anything.  We wouldn't want that to go to her head.