Poor little Major Domo he is going to get traded in just like a used car – merchandise being returned. I feel for the Major. Perhaps one of those robo vacuums would be better.
It cleans rather than makes a mess. You can turn it off when annoyed by it. True its not very cuddly and one has little empathy for it, but that is true of all merchandise, once removed from its plastic shrink-wrap.
Well anyway Brenda has worked out a three way trade – the Major goes somewhere with kids, and she gets a two year old house trained Yorkie. And I did not even have a chance to tell the Major farewell. Brenda will name the new one Mick so that her granddaughter will not know that she traded the dog she found for her it in – Major Domos paper name was Rielly Mick. I will refer the new one as Robo Dog or maybe Major Minor (how cruel of me - no I will probably not). Bye bye Major!
January 6 - my father would have been ninty today but died three months before. On the same day that he was born, Theodore Roosevelt died
And then my nose picks up
An aroma – fresh brewed coffee, no
The grinding of freshly roasted beans
This is not the popping of the seal
On a can of Folgers – this is not
Your mother’s coffee anymore
And if my ways are not as theirs / Let them mind their own affairs. / Their deeds I judge and much condemn, / Yet when did I make laws for them? – A E Housman
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