Howdy, folks!

Life continues apace.

Sorry for my long absence, but this semester has been hectic.  I applied for May graduation in early October, and although I await confirmation from the Registrar, I am reasonably confident of that date for finally finishing this degree.  I'm sure I'll have more to say on that subject as the time draws nigh.  I worry that I shan't sleep for the months of April or May-- I will be in full terrier mode at that point, I expect.  I'll sleep-- lightly, occasionally-- on top of the covers with Praline, ready to spring into action at any moment.  That, or I'll be wrung out and simply too tired to spaz.  At least I have no 8 or 9 AM classes in the Spring, which makes me more happy than I can convey.  I am more the type to get up at the crack of noon, so 8:00, 9:00 and 10:00 AM classes this semester have been major factors in how tiring this session has been.

My music minor is going well.  It's good to sing classical repertoire again, and I happened into the most superb voice teacher.  I've made so many startling breakthroughs vocally, with his brilliant guidance.  It's a sort of alchemy, finding the teacher who can unravel the intricacies of how you produce sound, then strip away the unnecessary and the bits that are just plain wrong.  Singing is much easier than ever before, actually, but I'm battling decades-old bad habits.  I will participate in some opera scenes in the Spring, so that should be interesting.

I have two finals to take this week, and then the semester is completed.  I expect to finish with my highest grade tally in many years, which will be a robust boost for my GPA. 

In early October, I broke my phone, and a friend generously gave me an older phone they no longer use. One reason I haven't posted as frequently-- particularly the puppy posts-- is that the new old phone does not let me post onto blogger, for some reason.  I hope to remedy this situation within the next month.

Other news: wow, the big election happened.  Frankly, I was so sick of the news cycles and the constant blaring about Trump, and most of the media's perpetual fawning over HRC.  I remember being sick of the election a full year before it even happened.  I'm still surprised at the outcome.  I haven't been a fan of Trump, but I think he will make a better president than she would have done.  It's ironic how most of the establishment politicos and media were in lockstep to oppose him-- that was probably the best thing they could have done for his campaign.  I looked at all the negative press he received, and saw their hand-fast with political leaders present and past, and I wondered how's come they can all agree to oppose Trump down to the point that they use identical criticisms for him, but they can't be bothered to do what we hire them to do and balance the budget, or something?  I wish all the best for our country, and I hope that Trump wins some people over by doing a splendid job as president.  I am impressed with some of the early news about cabinet choices, and I think his thank you tour has shown him to be a classier act than he was credited by his opponents.  He seems presidential and dignified, and I am pleased by that.

Irony moment: HRC campaign and DNC conspired to keep Bernie Sanders from getting the Dem nomination.  Bernie had a better chance of beating Trump than HRC ever did.  I hope the DNC savor the irony for a long while to come.  In the space of about 72 hours, the news cycle turned from crowing about the end of the Republican party, to a pants-soiling lament about the end of the Democratic party.  I think the takeaway from all of this is that it's hogwash, and that we need to mine the internet for news from a variety of sources, and throw out the incumbent in pretty much every election.  

As for people who say that we are a laughing stock around the world for our choice of Trump: I am unmoved, and un-intimidated.  We are Americans: people expect us to be a little wackadoodle.  Why change now?   There's a reason for the double- or triple-meaning in the name and term "Mickey Mouse."  I'll leave that there, for now.

I entered a short fiction competition this year and did quite well, though I did not make the finals.  There were about 2200 people in the competition, initially, and I made the semi-finals of 300.  I am satisfied with the final story I submitted, and the feedback I got in every round from judges was quite useful.  I learned this week that I didn't make the final of 40 writers, and I am glad that I don't have to write a story this weekend, in addition to studying for finals.

I'll try not to be so scarce around here.  I do expect the Spring semester will be hectic, but I hope it will be enjoyable, as well.  I have two classes with favorite faculty members, so I want to do well, and I know I will learn. 

Gonna throw out a link with some important content:

Here's a link to Old NFO's Wordless Wednesday post. 

If a high ranking pol from any political party but the DNC were videotaped laughing about the prevalence of their election fraud, do you think it would be all over the mainstream media?  It would be, but this story is not.  Further, the running-scared media are lying to their audience, saying things like it's "illegal to read wikileaks" that prove how they(major "news" companies) have acted to affect outcomes in politics, business, and and international relations.  CNN wants you to feel guilty about looking at information their anointed politicians casually tossed off from unsecure servers with no concern for security, national- or otherwise.

How is the average American to feel, other than betrayed by these news organizations who do not report without bias, just the facts.  They tap dance double-time to shield the facts in some cases, and to mis-frame issues, altogether.

No linkey love for Michael Moore, but various outlets are reporting that in his new film, he states that he hopes that Hillary Clinton DID have Vince Foster killed.  "That's bad ass," he is reported to have said. 

Think of how horrible a person it takes to kill another person who knows too much about their shady business dealings.  Think of the scale of vileness their dealings have to have reached to necessitate the murder of people who know what they are all about: how can anyone want a person of that character for the leader of our nation?  Even joking about that telegraphs a dark cynicism about values and ideals on which our nation was founded.    Not funny.  I'm not laughing.

Holding our noses as we go.

2016 has been rough in many ways, and the current presidential election rotation is prime among the unpleasantries this year has afforded.  Trying to decide which reprobate to reward with the U.S. Executive Branch is like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end. 

If I were a campaign strategist for a presidential candidate, I'd select the four or five worst bits of little-known dirt I could find on the opponent.  I would study the first debate meticulously, analyzing the opponent's performance from every angle.  Then, about a month before election and a couple of days prior to the second debate, I'd release one of the bits of dirt, preferably salacious detail that did not include real data related to policy-- one wouldn't want to bog down on details related to actual job performance.  This bit of dirt would need to push the buttons I've already had in overdrive for the entire campaign.  A well-primed public then would erupt with rancor over sexism or racism or whatever detail on which the dirt centered.  

Thus unbalanced by the undeniable embarrassment of the situation, the opposing candidate would face my candidate in the debate at a distinct disadvantage.  My candidate would enter the second debate well-poised to deliver a death of a thousand cuts with verbal barbs engineered to prod at tender fresh wounds.  The opponent may recover, but the seed of doubt has been planted in many of his supporters.  I would then use the coming weeks to deploy the remaining bits of dirt, releasing them to throw the opponent off-balance every time they seem to be regaining their equilibrium.  I would time the most devastating bit of dirt to release the Friday before the election, when it would be hardest to recover, and when the voting public will have the entire weekend to seethe and marinate over the new outrage.

I would rely on the short memory of the voting public.  I would bank on the fact that most of the voting public is not politically astute, doesn't pay attention, and has a short memory, anyway.  I would rely on the fact that the voting public has no recollection of my candidate's spouse doing the very thing for which the opponent is being vilified.  I would rely on the public not remembering that my candidate's husband grabbed women by the pudenda in the Oval Office, and that this predator will be the first Mr. First Lady.  I would also rely on the pat option of claiming gender- or race- biases against my candidate.  Use all the tools in the shed, yes?

If you are a Trump supporter, you really should brace yourself for much worse to come in the next month.  This is not over by a long shot, but I also think the release of the secret taping of Donald Trump may have been a strategic mis-fire on the part of the Clinton campaign:  they have unleashed a can of worms wherein secret recordings will be taken as gospel, and what do you think are the odds of either Clinton having been secretly recorded saying outrageous things?  (Funny note: I just typed in "bill clinton" on Google, and the first search term auto-filled "bill clinton cigar."  I wonder what that's about???)  Particularly  given Bill's friendship with the problematic Jeffrey Epstein. *shudder*

More to come, folks.  It's all ugly, all the time, in this campaign.  I expect both sides to play dirty, and to come out swinging.  And the sad thing is the net effect is that we will have difficulty respecting whoever wins the contest, because the whole problem was that we were already sick of politics as usual, and the policies they beget. 

I haven't written much about politics in years, here, because what is the point?  I may not write any more about politics, particularly this election cycle, because what's the point?  At least it will be over, soon, except that this election has actually made time seem to slow down.  Heaven help us.

Rodent tartare

The morning ritual is the first thing out of bed, the pups go to the backyard for the necessaries, and then back into the house for Kibble Time™.  This is the time of year when pecans are falling en masse in the back yard, and Mochi loves to supplement her diet with pecans.  The usual routine is the pups run out, do their business, Mochi has a quick pre-breakfast nut snack, and then back in for the morning meal.  Mochi often enters the house carrying a pecan she hopes she'll be able to secret in the house somewhere with Mommy unawares, but when the Sacred Kibble is in the offing, she's pretty good about giving up the pecan in her mouth to me, which I quickly dispose of properly.  I let the pups out back this morning, and at most, they were in the yard for two minutes.  When they came in, I saw Mochi throw back her head to get a better purchase on the nut she was carrying.  ONce in the house, I told her to spit it out, and I was surprised when she did so quite easily.  Without focusing on the nut,  I reached down to pick it up, surprised to find it quite warm.  Um.  And moist.  And furry. 

In my hand I was holding most of the head and neck area of a small rodent.  The eyes looked peacefully closed, as if in sleep.  There was red meat aplenty, and I could see the heart and other viscera, but most of him was gone.  The black whiskers were so short and tidy.  He was a lovely little marvel of a creature.  Poor little devil. 

Somewhere, little rats sit at the kid's table at clan gatherings, and they whisper tales of the three giant, slavering beasts who come out randomly to strike terror and fear in the hearts of hapless rodents, killing all they see and eating their corpses as they scan the horizon for movement.  Woe betide the little rat who strays too close to the nomnivorous fanged beasts who rove my yard. 

The morning is bright, and full of terrors.

This has me re-thinking puppy kisses.  Yuck.

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: it's laundry, and I helped!

Mochi is a good and supportive helper around the house.  Whatever is going on, she wants to get her paws into it!

Fall in full swing.

My penultimate (hopefully) undergrad semester started at the end of August, and I'm now about a third of the way through.  I managed to swing a class schedule of MWF this semester, so I have two full days for study and other things.  It's a relief to not have to be on campus at 8:00 AM every day.  Thursdays I still spend most of the day on campus, but Tuesday is free for working at home and studying there, plus the prospect of sleeping in a wee bit.  Unfortunately, I tend to wake up pretty early on the days I don't have to, it seems. 

I participated in a large short fiction writing competition this summer, and two weeks ago I found I'd placed well in my group.  The second heat has happened, and I should get feedback on my second story in about a month. I hope to place again, and to advance to the third heat.  It's good to get feedback that helps tighten up my writing. 

I've been tutoring students with their writing, and I've been pleasantly surprised how that process has helped me to view my own writing critically and objectively.  I also enjoy that process, although thus far it has been a single-serving interaction: students make their corrections and submit their paper, and they don't often come back to share the outcomes for their work.  I find myself wondering at knowing only half of a story.  I felt that way about the patients in nursing school clinicals, too: you do your shift, and do all you can for a patient in a 13 hour period, and you will most likely never see them again.  It's an odd interaction that is intensely personal and then is suddenly no more.

The puppies are well and in fine fettle.  They seem happier with my new and improved schedule, as I am home with them more often.  They are convinced a demon is living under the lawn mower, and they circle and menace it tirelessly.  I tip the mower so they can look and sniff under it. "See? No demon.  No varmint.  Just grass whiskers."  They are not buying it.  They are a perpetual delight.

I am considering my next step after I graduate in May.  I am stepping up the writing, and am currently researching information on East Texas for a work of fiction I began last year.  I wrote a few short stories with a character I placed there, but now I want to do a full-length fiction for her, and I am reading as much as possible on the area.  I've picked up "Tales from the Big Thicket" and a few other books.  I appreciate any books or websites you folks might recommend on East Texas history and lore.  My character lives near a made-up town, but it's in the region south of Tyler. 

I'll try not to let so many weeks elapse between posts, next time, but life continues apace.  I confess that this election year has been vexing, and I will not be sorry to see the back of it.  We've got -- what? -- five weeks to go until election?   Someone accurately said that trying to decide for whom to vote this time is like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end.  Quite.

I'll try to get a Puppy Sunday post up.  Y'all is owed one.  I hope you all are well and thriving and happy.

Ray of light.

This summer has been a bit rodeo.  I posted here that in late May, the gunblogger community lost a stalwart member, and I lost a personal friend.   Although Ray battled some health challenges, our tribe hoped and prayed he would come through them.   Alas, it was not to be. 

I launched into summer, ready to get much accomplished and to get some rest from school, as well.  I was tired, and the gut-punch of losing Ray sent me into a bit of a tailspin.  I came down with a flu that lasted two full weeks, topped off with a cough that lingered.  The cough hung on until my second annual 50th birthday float on the Guadalupe in late July, but the active time outdoors seemed to clear that up, finally.  Floating on weekdays combined with broody, rainy weather to yield an almost deserted river.  I felt my feathers smoothing out as I glided down a quiet river under ancient cypress trees swagged with long streamers of Spanish moss.  The sun stayed away, mostly, and the temperature remained warm but not hot.  Unmolested by shrieking rednecks, myriad turtles sunned themselves on rocks and driftwood, and all manner of birds were to be seen on the river.  In one golden moment, we floated past a pair of fawns getting their lunch from their mothers on the bank.  It was a moment of pure beauty and happiness.  I thought about things, and I felt myself healing.

Laughing and smiling about Ray is feeling more natural now than despair, although my heart aches with his absence.  He would call at least once a week during his commute home through Seattle traffic, and we had big plans.  We hosted a gathering at the Gingerman in Houston during the NRA convention, and we were looking forward to throwing a soiree at the Dallas NRA in 2018.  I miss our talks, and sometimes the phone ringing during that time of day makes me think it's him, for an instant.  But it won't be.

Last night the Perseid meteor shower peaked, and I stood outside with friends for a bit, looking at the sky.  A bright orange streak burned southward, and thoughts of Ray came rushing to mind.  I saw a few more streaks of light before I went in for the evening.  I awoke this morning at 5:00, put on some shoes and let the pups out, and I went out, too.  I scanned the sky, expecting the meteors to appear at a different point in the sky, when I looked overhead in the same spot of that first orange streak, and there came another orange streak.  The fiery ray made its way with purpose and intensity, but unhurried to the southern horizon.  It felt like a "hello" from Ray.  I was comforted.

Happy birthday, Dad!

I've said it here before and in many ways. I'm humbled to have such a splendid father. I hope your birthday has been wonderful, Dad. I love you and I couldn't be more proud of you. 

Sunday, Puppy Monday: slow on the draw

Sorry for late and spotty puppy posting. This summer has been full rodeo since it started.   I think Chuy had only pulled a muscle, and he seems fully recovered. However, he quite liked being lifted onto and off of things like the bed or the sofa. Now that he's feeling better, I'll catch him jumping on and off things, but he still does a "Princess and the Pea" routine, waiting patiently for his curbside service at every turn. Ha!

First attempt cleaning old textile: Venice Tapestry

When I was about 20, I began collecting vintage images of Venice, particularly antique photos.  When I came across this badly damaged tapestry of Venice, $4 didn't seem much of a risk or gamble-- even in its world-weary state, I still love it. Plus it's a chance to try my hand at cleaning stains from an old textile.  

Based on the spill/fade/soil patterns, I think this cloth was on a buffet or some horizontal surface, maybe with small objects displayed atop it, as there are less-soiled squares that might have been the bases of vases or candelabra.  I did a bit of research, but most information was on cleaning, and not on removing extensive stains.  These may be mildew, but they don't smell bad, so I think it's more likely something was spilled on the piece. 

Sorry, but I should have taken a photo prior to spot cleaning.  We shall see how this goes.  The first real area of concentration was the dome area, (which I DID snap before cleaning) which was the worst staining on the piece.  I soaked the piece with glycerin, waiting 30 minutes, then blotted the glycerin through with a damp cloth, frequently changing the cloth underneath.  You can see on the under-cloth the progressive blottings.  This part is a test, and if all goes well, I'll do this method from one end of the piece to the other, probably in stages.  Hopefully this will yield brighter colors, as well. 

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: Chuy in crisis

Chuy had a health scare yesterday, and we had to go to the vet. Hopefully it's just a pulled muscle in his back, but there's also the danger of IVDD. He seems to get relief from the pain killer they gave me for him. Hoping for the best.

Update: Chuy has been on painkillers for a week, but gradually he showed improvement in mobility and comfort levels.  I think he must have pulled a muscle.  Now he's his usual spry, jaunty self, to my delight.  :)

Sweet thoughts of my Dad on Father's Day

     On this Father's Day, and every day, I'm so grateful for my excellent, wonderful Dad.   He is the personification of all the finest traits you could hope for in a man.  He is good-natured, always quick with a smile or a good word, and he is a great and present help to all around him who might need a hand.  He is industrious and energetically attacks any task that needs to be addressed.  He is unflinching in his morals and integrity, and stands for what is right.   I am truly blessed, and I love him so very dearly.  Happy Father's Day, Dad, and thank you for being so wonderful. 

On the terrorist attack in Orlando:

Blaming the implements used in this attack is like blaming fertilizer and rental trucks for the OKC bombing. It's like blaming rooftops for the murder of all the gay men thrown from them. 

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: mini pup-tent on the recliner

Home from Dallas, relaxing with my furballs. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: knackered puppies

Should auld acquaintance be forgot...

Today I am reeling from the loss of my friend Ray Carter. 

Ray was a remarkable person and my dear, close friend.   We'd often share conversation during his commute home through ungodly Seattle traffic, and we've logged hundreds of hours of phone time over the past eight years, since we first met at Blogrado.  We hosted a party together at the Houston NRA convention, and had plans to host more.  Last week he told me we'll host the first gunblogger party in heaven.  I'm holding you to that, Ray.  And thank you for being my friend.

R.I.P.

My bedbugs

Wise words:

Doggie stretch:

So funny:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CB4KFsV7Bqk&feature=share

Oak leaf hydrangea

They smell of honey. 

If you form a lap, they will come.

They pile up like furry monkey bread. 

In which your humble narrator levitates:

I've been fraught with anxiety over the grading of my big paper in The Hardest English Class I've ever taken. In truth, it's been quite technical and in the weeds, of necessity. It's a Senior/Grad course, and I've struggled a bit. The research paper makes the bulk of the grade, and I was worried about passing.  I went with my gut and wrote in a personable manner , rather than presenting the information in a technical, formal style. I guess my instinct wasn't too bad:

I am ecstatic. So relieved, and so happy to see a good payoff for my work this semester. Worth it. 

Oh, you beautiful doll!

You great big beautiful doll!

So happy to see these grand sprays of blooms. *le sigh*

School will be out in 11 days, and maybe I can get some gardening done, then!

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: a proper lie-in

Here are all three pups. Praline is sentinel puppy and is permanently on watchdog duty, mostly. The wiener and chiweenie, however, will eke out every possible second of snuggles. They are my teeny tiny toasties!

Read 'em and steep:

I have the most outstanding coffee/tea mug that I found at an estate sale recently for .50. I near soiled  myself when I saw it, honey, because it was awesome. Awesome. 

I saw Shakespeare by the frame, and looked on the bottom of the mug: Wedgwood, honey. 

Wedg.

Wood.

I've been enjoying tea and coffee in this mug all the more for the mug. I decided to peek at eBay and see if I could find more. 1964, Stratford-Upon-Avon Advisory Council.  Crap. I've seen the last of the fifty cent versions of these: there's a buy it now on eBay for $55.00. There's also a buy it now version for $21.96, but it's in England, and I'll bet the postage makes it closer to the $55 version. 

Turns out this was one of a series of five lithographed mugs designed by Wedgwood artist Victor Skellern to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the birth of Shakespeare. 

Well, no spares for me, but I'll contininue to

enjoy my cuppa, Bard-style. :)

Or maybe I should sell it...?

It's still here:

These photos were taken before the big storm on Tuesday night. Fortunately, nothing too dreadful happened in my neghborhood during the storm. 

Squeeee!

Oh, you beautiful doll!

So glad I'll get to see my oak leaf hydrangea blooming this year. I've been watching daily for a plague of caterpillars to rob me of my pleasure. The first wee blossoms have emerged. 

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: my little prince

Chuy is the most excellent boy. :)

Eagerly anticipating

My Oak Leaf Hydrangea is finally about to bloom!  I bought my house in 2010, and the plant was blooming when I planted it that spring. However, a year later it was ready to bloom when a marauding army of caterpillars came through and ate everything that was blooming, and half of what wasn't blooming. The plant survived, but never out flower spikes out again until now. I'm so excited. :)

My little murder machine

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: she's at it again

My sweet precious baby girl finally got hold of the sadistic squirrel that's been teasing her for six months. There'll be no more of that mess. 

Chuy followed up shortly by killing an adolescent squirrel, but his kill was much more tidy. 

Sunday, Puppy Monday:

Sorry for the belated post. This is one of the busiest semesters ever, but in a good way. I sang the mezzo part in a famous opera quartet in a recital yesterday, and I had a grand time. 

Here's a puppy photo of my velvet fur-tube:

House cleaning.

Hurrah for Spring Break!

A year from now I'll be preparing for graduation, so that's a Good Thing.

School is going well, and I'm involved in various musical projects, including a part in a fabulous opera quartet, but more on that at another time.  I'm in voice lessons at school, and my teacher is outstanding, and each week seems to bring a vocal breakthrough.

In December, I closed my booth at the antique market, and good thing, too.  I've never had proper time to devote to maintenance, and this semester is as time-sucking as any other, although this time it's too much of GOOD things.

Based on conversations in passing with the professor, I enrolled in a Shakespeare class for the semester, and the professor asked me to lead the class on one particular discussion.  That was the third week of February, and it went wonderfully well.  In fact, the professor asked me to submit an abstract of my lecture to a regional writing conference (5 states, not regional merely to Texas).  I have not submitted  the proposal yet, but I hope to within the next week.  The great honor was in having the teacher express such confidence in me.  Honestly, if the Fall semester is like the Spring this year, it might be too stressful to speak at a conference on top of school commitments.  We shall see.  I have two major research papers to produce for the semester, and I'm going to the campus library to work in earnest on that starting tomorrow.  The break this summer is bound to be well-earned.

This week I'm doing a bit of tidying and I hope to get a fair bit of sewing done.  I sewed a dress in dotted Swiss lawn over the Christmas break, and it's my favorite garment I've made, so I'm feeling excited about making More Things.

I noticed the puppies are asleep in most of the recent Puppy Sunday photos, and I promise they are not always comatose.  It's just that they are easier to photograph when they are zonked. :)  The last handful of days to sleep late all cuddled up with them has been glorious.  Curses on 8AM classes-- HATE them.  Hate.  And yes, a course I must take next semester is 8AM, but at least it won't be 4 days per week, as is the Spanish this semester.

Spanish is going somewhat well, but it is wit-addling to work on memorizing arias in Italian while working on memorizing Spanish with verbs and boatloads of conjugations.

The entire winter has been the Spring We Never Get.  Now that Spring has sprung, I expect it will be bloody hot in no time.  Yes, I need more frocks in dotted Swiss lawn, toute-de-suite!  Back to the cutting table!  I hope that you all are having a pleasant Spring, and thank you for the comments while I've been so tied up. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: snooze fest

It's chilly tonight, and it's a little ironic for the first day of Spring, as we've hardly had a winter. The energy bills have been wonderfully low, so yay. For now, there's puppy snuggles:

Happiness is a raft of new (old) hankies

Hankies are great for throwing in fabric projects here and there, but I also like carrying a hankie. Found some pretties at an estate sale this weekend. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: drowsy doggy edition

The pups are cuddled up for a nap, as they are clearly exhausted from watching me Do Stuff around the house. They are excellent supervisors. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: study buddy edition

Mochi never misses a chance to snuggle up to me when I'm studying on the sofa. The pile of fresh laundry merely sweetens the pot!

This is lunacy

At this point, I might be a one-issue voter and vote for anyone who will work to repeal the ACA. It's a sham and a power-grab. This is obscene. 

http://www.thenewamerican.com/usnews/health-care/item/17216-another-obamacare-surprise-estate-recovery

...and while we're on the subject of the election, choosing from this field of candidates is like trying to pick up a turd from the clean end. No Bueno. 

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: Mochi in the morning

This post is a day late, but my weekend was pretty hectic. Mochi is always the first to wake up because each morning brings the shiny new promise of a fresh bowl of kibble. 

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: puppy monkey-bread

They are so sweet!

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: puppy monkey-bread

They are so sweet!

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: paws for effect

These little paws delight me:

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: snuggly-wugglies

It's a bit nippy here, only Chuy really likes keeping on a jacket.  Sweet pups. I'm having a wonderful, peaceful day at home, listening to early music and sewing. Sweet times. :)

The Rose Ensemble - Bogoroditse Devo, Sergey Khvoshchinsky

This is one of the most ridiculously beautiful things I've ever heard. Glorious.

dead can dance-saltarello

John Renbourn - Trotto / Saltarello

I was absolutely thrilled to hear this wonderful melody on my Pandora station, as I know it from the version recorded by Dead Can Dance, which sounds ancient. Wonderful stuff.  This is perfect listening as I'm home sewing on a snowy day. :)

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams - I Get Along Without You Very Well