I hope I get used to having a dog. As of right now it still feels … weird. Like I am not quite sure what to do with him, just as he isn’t quite sure where the hell he is and what the fuck is going on. Ah. Adult dogs fresh from the track.

I got an electric sander this weekend. and after ten minutes of coaxing Pluto down the stairs to the basement, was able to use it on a bookshelf I want to refinish. I guess I was expecting a miracle. That it would take off the old varnish and splattered paint with one or two magic rubs of the sander and be gone! However, that is not the case. IT does sand, but going through old chemical crap is something of a chore. I told Tim and he said that it had to be stripped first. I am beginning to think I just might do that. There is some leftover stuff in the basement. I could take it outside and give it a go…I just don’t want Pluto coming up with his skinny long nose to sniff what teenagers consider to be fun.

I also need an am/fm radio downstairs to make my old man workspace authentic.

This weekend I went to my Dad’s. He and Barb were pretty quiet. I think Barb needed some alone time because she had just gotten back from three weeks of visiting her son and grandchildren. We rode bike, made fire (which I accomplished with only two matches — the first going out right away), Tim caputured a feral little kitten we promptly named Fang. Boy was he a tiny, ferocious little monster, but such a cutie when he stopped being scared.

Scared animals seems to be the order of the week.

Now it is September. What do I do with myself? I need to be inspired.

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