It�s July 4th, memories of wearing sequined nylon blue shorts and matching top, marching and baton-twirling down the main street and then eating hoodsies dominate at the moment. But in the real time, I�m wearing my bathrobe (kind of) and sipping coffee. Getting ready to march into that kitchen! And make breakfast! Blueberry something...

Gentle snores from the boys of the house.

Took the Shecky boy out for a walk earlier and we ran into Shayla, the three legged wonder dog. She�s a real sweet treat. Shecky, as usual, chased birds and did his helicopter turn and rolled around frequently. Shayla gave some play but mostly obsesrved.

Most recent parade: After 11pm on a weeknight in May, a bagpipe parade down Market Street in Lowell. It was a weeknight. I kid you not. We were staying at the Beck�s while evacuated due to the flood. M. got the window open and a perfect breeze came in. We were just quietly laying there when we heard the unmistakeable sounds of a marching band in the distant. Was it getting closer or further away. We just had to wait it out for a bit until we could confirm it was getting louder. Therefore, approaching. Similarly, we went through a little wait-and-see about the instruments. Bagpipes? We asked ourselves. Bagpipes, we answered. We glimpsed a bit of the paraders. A small group, but perhaps 20�that is large for that time of night. What was this? Mitch wondered if it had something to do with Jack Kerouac. We still don�t know.

Must ask the Beck�s today.

How long does it last
Can love be measured by the hours in a day
I have no answers now but this much I can say
I know I'll need her till the stars all burn away
And she�ll be there

last - next