Tomorrow The Girl’s horse get’s that shot and enters the pastures of Paradise.

I can think of nothing more painful for her, although she will not be there. The Father will be there, as we know how it feels to watch a beloved pet die.

I am convinced that some day we shall sing *Happy Days Are Here Again,,,,,*

I have had a subscription to National Geographic since I was about 8.

Today it was canceled.

Ok, The Boy did not get a birthday card, nor any dough, fine.

But I do have to wonder what the fudge my Father is doing.

And my stinking email doesn’t work.

Do I have a *whine, whine, whine* category ?

If not, I should.