Watermelon Farmers

My Daddy and his best friend George like to think of themselves as "farmers". Every year they plant HUGE-ass gardens and every year they grow more food than we can eat. And, again, every year, Daddy says he's gonna sell the produce and never does and ends up giving it away. They drove up tonight with this giant truck load of watermelons and forced me to take two.

Sunny Marie

My lovely dog Sunny died on December 14, 2006. I buried her here and planted a rose above her grave. So far the rose bush has bloomed three times this summer. I took this picture because I miss her. Gilligan got in the shot.

My dinner (as if anybody cares)

I read somewhere, probably on Twisty's blog, that nobody cares what you ate for lunch. Or supper. Or breakfast. So I thought I'd test that theory and put up a picture of the beans that I snapped for my dinner. As you can see, this activity requires nicotine and alcohol along with a communication device. And, since it occurs outdoors, there is also a profound need for DEET. Unfortunately, I ended up drinking too much of the wine and talking too much on the communication device and never got around to cooking the beans. I did get them snapped, though. And this photo reminds me that I have some serious repairs to make around the homefront, like repaint the table and re-upholster the chairs. Life is always a work in process.