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Upset as I am about our beloved Blueduke's missing appendage, I can't help but chuckle. Were it possible, I'm sure someone would come up with an appropriate reliquary for His Grace's castoff. I'll keep all y'all Oldcastles in my prayers. His Grace will be proud of my composure in the following encounter: I met the grandma of one of my little monkeys at Open House. She's raising the child while mom is in Iraq. She lives in a condo development that was recently rezoned for our school's area, so they're both new to us. Grandma proudly explained that, "Sistah Girl (the granddaughter) gots to go here cause they rezoned our condom. Our condom usedta go to dat other school, but now our condom go here." I did not laugh. I did not twitch. I smiled and explained how much we enjoy Sistah Girl's company, then dragged my twitching student teacher into the workroom, where we shut the door and howled like banshees. Oh, my. In other news, Casey is now a border-collie-HUSKY mix, at least as far as our homeowners' insurance company is concerned. Akitas of any stripe, even old, confused, fat, slow, sweet ones, are taboo. Uninsurable. So I babbled about how we weren't SURE he was part Akita, that he really just looked like a panda, maybe his momma was a husky. That was good enough for the agent, so I guess Casey's now a Busky. Or a Borsky. And I'm PInnocchio. |
 
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Borsky and Stretch