I am wore out, as we here in Hanover County like to say. I haven’t been this good kind of happy tired in a long time. It’s been a good day.
First off, I should mention that blogging is currently being made more difficult by a 17 lb. orange cat in my lap who’s doing his darndest to keep me from typing. Meet Colonel, this message’s contributing editor.
Yes, folks, I’m at home on the farm, in my favorite pj’s and right comfortable, thank you very much. I just got in from Charlottesville, where Debbie and I went to the UVa/Georgia Tech game (I was mistaken in yesterday’s entry when I thought we’d be playing Florida State. Oh, and did you hear? NC State beat Florida State today! At home! Go, Wolkpack!). UVa won today! It was, by far, the best football game I’ve ever been to. I’m hoarse from screaming, which is not going to help when I try to teach Sunday School tomorrow…and no, I’m not being a hypocrite by enjoying the game when I wrote earlier that I don’t like sports. I love going to a good game. I just don’t like watching it on t.v. There’s a difference.
The really good thing about the game was that I fell back in love with UVa. I’ve had a bitter taste in my mouth for the past few years about my alma mater, because my depression first kicked in at the beginning of 4th year and basically ruined it for me. I’ve felt ashamed ever since. But now, enough time and therapy have passed to permit me to get over it and love the school again…and I do. Especially College Inn (pronounced “kol’ezh een”, for the uninitiated). Their bread sticks…baked spaghetti…fried mushrooms…chef’s salads…um. Now I’m thinking seriously about driving back out I-64 again tonight and hitting them before they close…
Colonel, move a little more to the left leg. Okay, that’s better.
The other big news from today is that Debbie adopted a puppy this morning. We met him last night at his foster home, along with his brothers and sisters. Debbie knew right away that he was the one — he so perfectly matched what she was looking for. Tri-color Border Collie mix, male, 8 weeks old, not too dominant and not too runty. He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen (good thing Colonel can’t read) — I got to carry him around PetSmart while Debbie shopped for food and collars. She’s bringing him home tomorrow. And life at the farm will expand, again. I can’t wait — this place just isn’t right without a dog.
Oh, and she’s naming him Earl, on my suggestion. To get to the farm, the last bit of directions is “Turn left at the mailbox marked ‘Earl'”, which always amuses people. Plus, it’s the name of the dog in “Mutts”, one of the greatest comic strips ever created.
So things are good. Except…ow…Colonel…stop digging your claws into my leg…ow…ow…signing off…