Apparently Halvers’ Banana Republic sweater was hang-dry only.
The sweater shrunk and now belongs to Gertrude.
My Rottweiler only wears the best fashions.
Posts about Ingrid the Labradoodle and Gunter the Chiweenie.
Remember how this is my week of restful bliss? Hah. Well, Gertrude and Harley decided that 4:30 a.m. is the official morning dog-walk time. This isn’t going well.
The snow is melting but I still have all these unedited snow-caked pictures! Excuse me while I toss them on the page for the record…
What a bizarre two weeks.
I had my normal schedule of work, class, lake trips, Jeset Bar dance-offs, and adventures around the metro:
I think they are over the cold.
The morning dog walk was a disaster.
I load the dogs into the car and the radio informs me that the air temperate is -10 with a -25 wind chill.
Winter is a weird thing. White above, white below, buildings and trees on the horizon.
Bits and pieces:
It’s a little too high for the dogs.
There is an unofficial rule that you can have your dogs off-leash in the more wooded parks.
…in which Harley brings up the rear of the dog-train:
I put in a lot of commuting miles this week.
My mornings usually begin at 8 a.m. in a St. Paul courthouse because I clerk at the St. Paul Public Defender’s office. I spend my time observing clerks and attorneys interview clients and prepare for bail hearings because my student certification has not gone through yet.
She gets a little fierce sometimes.
The newscasters say that this is the coldest week of the year. It’ll reach -20 soon, but we are still jumping around Lake Calhoun.