Today was technically a work day for me but I worked from home (and from Zingerman’s at the Plum Market) and I will be honest enough to say that I was not all that productive. I had a lot of complicated thoughts about working (or not) from home and how my work situation(s) and thoughts about working (or not) from home have changed over the years and I was thinking about blahgging about that and then my long-simmering hankering for a GPS for my automotive vee-hickles boiled over and after running the gauntlet out to Best Buy twice (yes, twice, don’t ask), I have just such an aminal in my hot little hands to install in the Ninja tomorrow morning, when I will be bumpety-clunking over to a family event north of the Motor City. Disclaimer: I do not NEED a GPS to get over to the northern burbs of the Motor City. Or anywhere else in this god-forsaken state. I’m just an insufferable geek!

Anyway, in the late afternoon, I walked downtown to meet the GG for cocktails and dinner at the Old Town Barrooooom. On probably one of the most gorgeous evenings we’re going to have for many months. I ran into TWO of the most friendly dogs I have ever met. And I don’t mean the kind of friendly dogs who are jumping on you all the way up to your neck licking you as their owners rather insipidly yell, “He’s friendly!” from 50 yards away. I like dogs and I *know* they are just being friendly when they do that but… Both of the dogs I met on my way downtown tonight were venerable old souls who were sitting out on their respective sidewalks *alone*. I’m sure they were left out there alone because they could be trusted to greet a non-threatening passerby just as they did me. By slowly walking up with a wagging tail and uplifted head, asking for a pat. Which they definitely got from me, along with a sincere “Goooood dog”. My childhood dog Tigger, who was as obnoxious as all getout in her youth, especially if you were the milkman, learned to do that as an old dog. The GG wanted to hang around downtown for a while after dinner but I was reaching the absolute end of my rope, so we headed home. The dusk was deepening as we got over toward our west-side neighborhood and, when I saw a young man walking slowly along the sidewalk carrying a little girl, I knew exactly what he was doing. Dark Walk was once one of my more successful techniques for getting my spirited little mouse to settle down enough to make the transition into sleep. And then, a pit stop in Miller Woods (yes, you do know what that means) and home to write a higgledy-piggledy babblety-babblety blahg entry of incomprehensible blather. G’night! -KW.

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