Nausea. Nausea and sporadic, severe stomach cramps with no other problems. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t like it. Happened Monday, then I thought I was over it. Ate a BLT after the gym Tuesday morning and was fine. For hours. And then I wasn’t. AT ALL. However, since there are no other symptoms, and Lindsey gave me some anti-nausea pills, I’m taking a wait-and-see attitude. Those of you who I’ve promised to put in my will? I didn’t. So get that gleam out of your eyes.
My hair is so terrible I refuse to look at myself in the mirror. I have an appointment for a cut on Thursday. This little stomach thing had BETTER NOT interfere.
Speaking of getting my hair did…
Lynne went out of town for a few days on business, and we got to keep Minute and Sparky at Camp Compound. Those of you who know of Margot’s very emo, get-the-hell-away-from-me-you-freak personality (she may or may not take after me) might be surprised, but she and Minute played hard every morning. Outside. In the dirt. And Minute is white. Or she’s supposed to be. Then in the afternoons, Minute played hard with Pixie and Rex. In the dirt. With the addition of Pixie saliva.
Would you let a friend come back to find two fuzzy mudpies at the end of the leash (Hi, Jeffrey!)? I thought not.
Before the groomer:
After the groomer:
Minute following a shampoo and comb-out, and Little Blind Sparky following a full grooming. Sparky was SO PLEASED with himself! Minute hated her bow. In spite of being little and white and fuzzy, Minute thinks she is a wolf. She does not want to be cute and pink.
Bonus photos, because you’re nice and will patiently allow me to try to sleep off this pestilence (Hi, Greg!) and so not do a Hump Day Happy post for a few hours.
Guinness ponders whether or not she will ever get another meal. Margot denounces as slanderous any implication that she ever plays.
Pixie is happy to demonstrate a playful attitude. Rex watches over his harem. And would also like a ride in the CAR! please.