Tuesday, April 21, 2015

It's that time of the year again.

There's a big Firefighting Conference thing going on in Indy.  Why is that important?  Well-- I have some squirrel friends that  work as volunteer firefighters and attend using their vacation and their own dollars. So every year, my home in Indy, which is now my crash pad, is the docking station, with showers, laundry, food and a place to hit the rack, for one or all.  Barkley used to love these visits as they'd send the coolest high tech, high energy dog toys out in advance of arrival, something to enjoy in my previously fenced yard.

It looks like a testosterone bomb went off in here and Abby is looking perturbed that couch, futon and all extra sleeping spaces are no longer hers.

There's many years of history here, and there will be some tales told under the "Cone of Silence" where a toast is raised and at least one tale will be told about a wrong way tank and a Bosnian goat (a tale that's in my next book but not told here tonight).   I don't have a real little brother of the blood kind, but I really do have my own band of little "brothers", and for that I'm grateful for their presence.

We think we have also lured Tam over for Poutine and Beer on Friday night.

I'll be back tomorrow.