Saturday, and a better day than before.

Hi Readers...

If you haven't picked up on it... I'm a bit down this week. And I want to apologise for dragging all of you folks down into my own personal dumps. It's my own problem... And I'm finally beginning to work on it.

It's the common "male" complaint... Married, and in America, that still means "Bread-winner," and frankly... I haven't two pence, sorry... Pennies to rub together.

Ger.

But... I'm turning over a new leaf... I know, now, that I'm doing all that I can, and I just have to wait for it to start taking effect.

Right?

Anyhoo... 'Cause I've been doing this lately... A photo:


Tucker in the studio

Okay...

What have My Lady and I been up to today?

Errands.

Man the shite one has to do some Saturdays. I bought strings (so did my Lady) for our instruments... And currently, I'm taking a break from stringing. I have three instruments that I play on occasion... A Mandolin (eight strings) an Octave Mandolin (eight strings) and a 12-string guitar. Regular acoustic guitar for me? Hell no... I have to play a fucking 12 string one.

I've been stringing for the past hour and a half, and I still have yet to start on the bloody 12-string.

Gah.

But anyhoo...

We went out, also, to get some batteries, and some zippo fluid, as I've been using a freaking Bic lighter, and that's just "Not On!"

And finally... I drove all the way from Bloomington, down to Apple Valley (about 12 miles south) and then from Apple Valley to Maplewood (36 miles) and then back through St. Paul (another 20 miles) before coming back home.

Why?

We're looking for a puppy.

Yep... A puppy. I need one... Fiona would like one, and the matron of the house is more than willing. So... My Lady and I spent the day travelling to different "Pet Warehouse" stores... Not that they warehouse pets, but the biggies... PetCo, and Petsmart etc... Places that sell all sorts of shite for pets... (Brits, think Asda for pets... Yanks you should know, but think Walmart for Pets.) Anyhoo... The various pet-rescue societies go to these big stores to show off, and attempt to convince people to adopt the found/rescued/or un-loved puppies and dogs.

We didn't find one. Not that there wasn't a few EXTREMELY CUTE little ladies out there... Man... We almost got this "hound-mix" puppy. Don't really know what the heck it would've turned into as an adult, which is why we didn't get it... But it was just the hardest thing... Here's my deal. I firmly believe that a puppy has to respond to you in some manner, and then "that's" the dog for you. Well... Both Fiona and myself saw this little sweetie sitting in the pen with her litter-mates and they were all really insane, yet she was contentedly sitting there chewing on a toy, and being stepped on by her sibs... And she was just adorable... But I thought to myself... "Nope, I'm standing here, and NOTHING, not a glimmer. Obviously, she's not the puppy for me." And what happens? Just as I think this... She stands up, comes over to the little fence thing, and jumps up and looks me FULL in the BLOODY FACE!

Damn that dog.

Damn all mind reading dogs!

So... It was close. We almost bought the damn thing... But.

But.

It was $270.00. Two-bloody-hundred-bloody-seventy-bloody dollars!

I couldn't do it... Not only 'cause of the "not having two cents to rub together" but because... Look... If it's a dog I really want, and know the breed... Etc... Then I'd do it. But not knowing what this "hound/hound/hound" thing was going to be... I just couldn't.

So... We're going to keep looking.

I want one.

I want a cute little sweet... Adorable little Lady to match my ACTUAL Lady.

Wish me luck... I'll keep you all posted.

Finally... Wish me a happy Birthday! It's my birthday on Monday, and I'm really excited. Yay! B-day!

Well... I'm off!

Smiles,

Tuckmac