Did Ya Ever Hear a Knockin?

I honestly don't have anything to say on the subject of privacy. I just love this picture. Eustacia took it over the weekend while she was experimenting with my camera.

I don't have time to think of anything more interesting to offer you today because I am about to go volunteer for the English class this morning. I haven't been there much lately because I have either been too busy with work or not feeling well. Because the students bring their little kids for a separate learning program, they are always being reminded not to show up for class if someone is really sick. So, I thought it would be wise to follow the same advice and keep my distance. I'm feeling better today, though, so I'll read and giggle. We always seem to find something to laugh at in these reading exercises. I suspect the people who write them are easily bored and like to interject silly things just to spice up the day.

When you're finished admiring the photo of Mike trying to take a bath in peace, you can enjoy this photo of Tiger taking a nap in Eustacia's art class portfolio.

Comments

Alifan said…

Lovely pics Robyn... have a few of Oscar in some of those positions...they are comical to watch these cats....

Hope you are feeling better now....xx

10:04 AM

dive said…

Yay! Hoorah for Mike showing the world his rather attractive bottom and hoorah for Tiger being a bagpus and hoorah for Eustacia for capturing them for us.
As if those aren't enough hoorahs, hoorah for you for cheering me up with them, Robyn.

3:13 PM

Sassy Sundry said…

Oh my. Those are some great pictures!

Have fun with class.

7:54 AM

MmeBenaut said…

Eustacia has managed to win my heart. Cats are just so darn interesting to watch.

9:53 AM

Happy Birthday...

to me! Update: Since you have asked, I only got one actual packaged gift, a beautiful hand-made bracelet from a friend, but both girls were home for the weekend, and we had dinner at the lake and a relaxing weekend. Thanks to all of you for your lovely wishes!

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Scout Moves

Search This Blog