Hunting s Broken Necklace

This a good day already, because when I moved my chair this morning, I found a pair of missing earrings.  I usually lose an earring almost every week. They eventually appear—sometimes in the washing machine or folded laundry, or even in a shoe on the closet floor. Last week  I was sure my missing earring was lost on a shopping trip, and gone forever. Yesterday I found it on the ground in front of my mailbox out by the street.

Somehow, finding my earrings this morning set me on the trail of a favorite necklace, broken and set aside for mending, many years ago. Please don't ask about the mental process that brought this about, because I haven't a clue. Anyway, three boxes of broken strands of beads, broken chains, and old wristwatches later, the necklace is still missing, but two forgotten ones were found. On the right, a strange pewter design needing a longer chain; right, a 2" square of aluminum topped with a disc with apple blossoms.

The original chains holding these old beautiful aluminum discs, are made of large hammered aluminum links. They are ugly. Very ugly. That may be why this piece was in the junk box. I found a more delicate chain and converted the disc into something wearable.

But still no sign of the missing necklace. It's here somewhere. These stacks of boxes are proof that I haven't thrown it (or anything else) away in years. That's good, right? I love the  two salvaged goodies above. So I pull out a promising box stored beneath my desk and open the lid......

Obviously, it's filled with things to good to through away. That's an almost new can opener—the kind I'll be wishing for the next time the electricity goes off, and I want to make a tuna sandwich. And how about that box of corks, or that wonderful little tin box holding those mini tools? Never mind that if I can't fix a problem with a hammer, screwdriver, or pair of pliers, it's time to call for help—preferably a son-in-law.

Then there's that doodad that draws perfect circles. I needed one a few months ago. I don't remember why, but I definitely needed to draw a circle. Then there's that Prince Albert tobacco can. If I could open it, it would be a good place to keep matches—in case I needed matches. Or maybe I'll sell it on eBay. Some people collect these tins, and I've already sold two. On the other hand, this the only one I have left, and like I said—if I could open the lid.......

    I need to take a serious look at the contents of this box. I may throw away that red-handled whisk. It's supposed to whip things like eggs, with an up down pumping motion, but it won't do that anymore. I'm trying to think of some reason to save it, but I'm afraid it's doomed.

I'll tackle all this another day. Right now it's time to watch interviews with presidential candidates.
I expect my thoughts on that  will need careful editing.

Later,
Dannie                                                                                             

Dandy Promises Free Advice

Woof, Woof. I didn't intend to be away all summer, but nowadays, naps are taking a large part of my days. Besides, My Lady is keeping the computer busy —at least she thinks she is. I wonder if she knows that staring at it doesn’t make it work.

I expect I’m a lucky dog. Two other ladies come in often, and I can depend on them for a lot of human chatter, treats, and nice cool water. Yep, I have my own water bottle in the refrigerator. My Lady kind of rolls her eyes about this, but she allows it. I think she vetoed ice cubes in my water bowl, but on really hot days my Sylvia Lady sneaks in a
 few.

With this kind of pampering I shouldn’t have any complaints—but I do. In fact I have a long list. And losing my eyesight  tops that list.  Almost as bothersome is my poor hearing. Loss of hearing is great at naptime, but it’s a real handicap when someone is yelling, “Treat time,” and I can’t decide where the voice is located.

There are other problems, like climbing doggie steps or taking

long walks, but I dealt with those problems real quick.  My Lady helped me make that last jump from my steps onto the bed several times, but being helped is a little embarrassing for a guy like me.  Shucks, I remember when I could jump from the floor to the bed in one easy leap. Anyway, the second time I tumbled to the floor from that top step  I walked away and never looked back.

 It didn’t take long to take care of that long walk situation, either.  I’m very determined (I like that word better than stubborn, don’t you?) so when I decided long walks were a thing of the past, I lay down and wouldn’t move. After my Lady discovered she was leading an empty harness, and I was relaxing back on the shady porch, that issue was settled. 

In case you're interested, I can make putting on a harness very difficult.

Well folks, if I get another chance to grab this computer, I’ll tell you more about what my vet calls “getting old.” It may happen to you someday, and how I’m coping may help you deal with it.

Woof!