Squig got a haircut yesterday.  The dog groomer opened.  Squig is a Schnauzer.  Schnauzers don't shed.  So his hair just grows and grows and grows.  He was starting to look like a huge fuzz ball.

He is getting older.  No longer jumps on me to wake me up in the morning.  Now I wake up first, and he just lays there and watches me put my house shoes and robe.  He waits until I pick him up off the bed and set him on the floor.  I don't want to think about what might come next.  I adore my dog.  He is 12 years old.  They say that is 84 in human years.  He's older than I am. 

My friend Jeanette calls me every day between ten and noon.  We neither one have anything new to say but manage to talk for awhile about nothing.  My friend Carolyn calls and we do the same.  One thing is for certain.  If we didn't have a phone, this quarantine would be miserable.  

Pat called to tell me that a mouse somehow got into the glove compartment of her pickup truck, (she lives on a farm) made a nest, then gave up the ghost.  She doesn't know how it got in there because the compartment was closed.  It had to come in from behind.  She said the smell is horrible and she can't find the mouse.  It's in a vent somewhere.  The car is not usable at the moment.  Windows are open....  But.....

I've started counting the number of cups of hot tea I drink every day.  Darjeeling.  I'm addicted.  Basically when I finish one, I get another.  I'm at around 6 to 8.  I hope hot tea is good for you.  

Just rambling today.