RECOVERY
Buckwheat is fine. The rest of us are fine. The weather has cleared up. I am posting a photo of my favorite TV investigative reporter and myself in Vegas. You, too, can see George Knapp on KLAS-TV when you're in LV, or read his trenchant comments about the characters and happenings in Sin City at http://www.lasvegasmercury.com
After having dropped in there myself and having read his May 18 column, I can confidently say that the Knappster will provide a stellar replacement for Art Bell on Bell's radio show this Sunday night. Go, George! As for Bell, last heard that he apparently absconded to the Philippines with his new honey.
B's little encounter with the truck has made us extra alert. I never knew I could feel so close to a dog! We're bonafide doggie people, Don and I.

Aforesaid Don and I made it to the recent California Dept. conference for the Military Order of the Purple Heart. It was quite an extension of his energy, but went well. For my part, it was breathtaking seeing my husband, fond of spending his days gimping around in his coffee-stained nightshirt, all decked out in a sparkling white dress shirt and nifty gray sports jacket....and a tie! A tie. Wow. No pic, but I'll take one next time, for sure. However many months or years that is from now!
COMING UP: Aphids and Glophids

MAY DAY! MAY DAY! MAY DAY!


My day started out with waking up to the depressing realization that Don and I had given "special thanks" in the MOPH chapter newsletter to several people -- but somehow forgot the very individual who forced the scum to the top (that's a long story), and who fearlessly began the onerous but vital process of reinstating the chapter's integrity. So I've been beating myself up all day about that; can't help it. Really an inexplicable, probably unforgiveable oversight and I'm unsure how to rectify the sitch; apologizing seems lame but we'll start with that.

A horrible thing happened on Friday. Buckwheat took off after a rabbit as I was walking him and was hit by a truck.....I heard the traumatizing screech of brakes and he was nowhere to be seen when I got up to the road. I saw the perp
leaving-- an old truck, with a lot junk teetering in the back. The fuckers didn't stop! I could barely speak but managed to tell a neighbor what happened and she had seen Buckwheat in the field next to our house. We ran there. He was SO frightened! At the vet they checked him out and except for a limp, our boy has no serious injuries, no broken bones or smashed organs, and I am so thankful to God and so freaked at the moment that I'm not sure when or how I'll be able to walk him again. But I will.

So that's been weighing on me, too, another scene from that heart-wrenching movie most of us have at least bit parts in, "The Nearly Unforgiven." This morning sucked! I forced down some puffed wheat with Mocha Mix.

Then some people came over to clean the house. Yes, those people, as in brown-skinned Spanish-speaking, very hard--but probably illegal--workers who either a) decided they'd rather have a little American money than march on crowded L.A. streets or b) decided to make the most of their clout by earning the money and demonstrating afterwards! For our part, we considered that not needing them anymore would be the logical response had they not shown up. Funny, the date was made far in advance of the walkout plan. Anyway, I was pretty sure I knew these people. Really wonderful, cheerful folks and no matter how hard I try I cannot clean like they do. (I warned Don early on that I'm a half-assed wife type. Covers a lot of drawbacks.)

Now I'm gonna go look for the Maypole. And tomorrow is another day. A new day. Not this day!