HNY

If you’re tired of seeing us I remind you the Interweb is vast. Plus, we’re not going to remain this pretty forever.

The powder blue mound oozing into the photo is a dog bed. One of several. There are days when it seems to me like we’re running a canine hostel here. The rug is from my parents. They bought it for me in Santa Fe almost fifteen years ago now. It’s gotten around — New Mexico –> Alaska –> Ohio –> Alaska. There’s a pad under it to make it cushy when you walk on it. Harry likes that. Our house is nicely decorated, thanks to Happy Wife. I’ve had almost no input in the decorating decisions around here. I’m not unhappy about that. If such things were left to me our house would be rather bland. The other day she came out of the crawl space with a souvenir I’d purchased about twenty years ago while on vacation in Roratonga (Cook Islands). I didn’t bring a lot of valuable stuff to our relationship; what there is of it is in the crawl space. So I like to joke anyway. In that way I think she felt sorry for me when she emerged from the hole in the floor, “Here,” she said, “maybe you’d like to put this somewhere?”

I didn’t want to offend her generosity of spirit, so I said, Okay, how about right there, on the ledge over the fireplace. It’s a small wood statue representing the god of fertility. Clearly, right? I mean if you can’t be fertile with that bugger what’s the point. Anyway, yes, over the fireplace will be fine, dear. Her face tightened, half dismay half pity, and then she wondered aloud if maybe I’d like put it some place less… you know, conspicuous, honey pie? No, I said, I think that will do just fine. And so there it stays, at least for the time being. Until I tire of it. No doubt I will, eventually. But I must say it matches the wood motif rather well, don’t you think?