No Addled, You Do Not Have A Soft Spot

My attention span is akin to a flea, so I have not been posting, plus I am irritable. Yesterday, Wookie went under the knife and had her spay operation. I went to pick her up, and I swear she thinks that I personally performed the alteration. Right now, she is lying in her crate, looking at me with narrowed eyes. Onyx, and Stella have been paying vigil by her. I have to keep her separated from the other dogs, so Onyx will not bother her stitches. Onyx has decided to go on a hunger strike, as his mother is sedate. He won't leave her side (well, he is lying in the crate next to her). Stella strolls by and snorts. This morning, Tibbles squeezed into an electric orange shirt that was so tight, it looked like she was a day-glo stuffed sausage. Gibbles told her that it was too tight for school, then all hell broke loose. Emo versus Tween Queen. Words flew, and although I did not take part in the altercation of words and snotty looks, Tibbles again, marched to school without waving. There are still little lumps of snow, remnants of the winter, but I have tulips and other plants poking up through the grass and my "garden". I use the term "garden" loosely, because, to me it looks like a piece of shit. I think I am going to pull up all my Rose of Sharron's and replant them elsewhere. They are by the fence and were crushed by the heavy snow. My side yard is absolutely covered in pine cones. Not little ones, but long thin phallic ones (well I guess pine cones are a misnomer, because they are spruce cones). Puppy class tonight. I haven't done my homework. Too busy, too sick. There is a horrendous bug around Blyth, some people have lost their voices (I hope more do, like specific ones), others have been drowning in phlegm. My Nose Netti is banking overtime hours. I have learned C, G, F, D, C7, F7, G7 on the mandolin. Just chords, no songs. I came clean to Adam regarding his fontanel, I am not sure if I had mentioned that I told him that his soft spot had not fully filled in. He was under the impression for weeks that I could off him at will. (Like sticking my thumb into a raspberry pie). After all these years together, you would think that he wouldn't take me seriously. It came up at the luncheon at WB's. . .her sister took me seriously when I said he "had not calcified", Addled was sitting next to me and WB and I were just killing ourselves.