Picture Sunday!

Hello, blogees! Hello, end of weekenders! Hello, all!

It's been forever! How are you all?

Let's try a little Picture Sunday!

Well, how the hell are you? I listened to the oddest opera in the world, and then -- well, silence. I promise, it wasn't the opera that silenced me, it was just life and laziness.

But after many completely benign weekends, I had a weekend that forced some pictures from the old - old? new! - camera, and so I thought I'd try to make a Picture Sunday.

Well, let's start at the beginning. I'd spent many days this past week wondering what in the hell I was going to do this weekend. Mainly because my boys, the Hackensaw Boys, were at my favorite venue, 123 Pleasant Street in Morgantown, WV, this weekend. I mean, how could I miss that?

Well, as it turned out, I could. The Dear Nephew couldn't make it, and my cousin Jacob couldn't make it, and as odd as it may seem, for some reason that made me realize I myself couldn't make it. I felt I could drive the five hours with someone, or could even drive the time if I was meeting up with someone, but driving by myself and going to the show by myself? Well, I guess times have changed and I have gotten old. I just couldn't fathom it. I said "no."

And I would have been more depressed than usual, but I had a back-up. Turns out that same Saturday night my second favorite live band, Southern Culture on the Skids, were in R'noke that same night! Mr M said he'd go with me, as did the cousin Jacob! I got tickets for the three of us, and we all made the trip.

Now, I have to tell you, though SCOTS are based out of North Carolina, Mary(bassist) and Dave (drummer) are actually based out of R'noke. So it was a bit of a homecoming for them, so the show was something of a festival.

The show was held at the Jeff Center, a very nicely remodeled theatre. We got there early, and got second row seats. However - we were told that the little wooden section in front of the seats was going to be reserved for dancers, so if we wanted to sit in our good seats, we'd be looking at peoples' butts.

And though I loved those seats, after the opening band I figured, "Hey, I don't want to look at local peoples' asses," and headed to the little dancing area. Luckily, cousin Jacob followed suit. (Mr M did not.) And after a wait but right on time, Southern Culture took the stage.

And they played their hearts out - it was a great show. I think I've mentioned it here before, but bassist Mary Huff (an R'noke native) is my heroine. She is cool beyond belief. She did all her greatest solo numbers. In blue wig and sunglasses to match!

















But the whole band tore it up all night.
























When it was all over, we headed back to the car. I thought it was just me, but found out soon enough it was me and cousin Jacob - there comes a time when you are just too old to dance for 2 1/2 hours non-stop. (Had I gone to the Hackensaws last night, I fear I would have been taken out of the venue on a stretcher!)

But we made it home. After an hour or so of hilarious conversations between Jacob, Mr M, and me that had us laughing till breathing was hard to do. I tell you, when you make each other laugh till you can't breathe anymore, that is a gift.

Then I woke up this morning.

I woke up this morning barely able to move from all the dancing the night before. But I drug myself up, got Milo out for a pee, got to Mr M's kitchen to make some coffee, and set about the business of waking up and getting ready to get back home today.

Then! Mr M got up.

As I was getting ready to go home, Mr M started telling me how I should take Milo by the dog park on my way back home. I wasn't so keen. I mean, the day before, the day of the concert, it rained so hard we couldn't even see a foot past our window. I had no idea what the dog park might look like today.

Well, Mr M was having none of that. "Who cares if there's mud? Who cares if it's dirty? If you're not prepared to have Milo get dirty, you have no right to have a dog!" he said.

Well, I was dubious, but you know, Milo did need a run, and it was sunny and fairly warm today, and so, oh, fuck it, I thought I'd take him to the dog park.

And Milo had a ball! There weren't a huge amount of dogs, but he found a Fox Terrier and a Yorkie he loved playing with, and there were even bigger dogs that all played with him, and all the dogs were having a great time.

For about 20 minutes. Then for some reason, Milo ran up a little mound by a tree, then tumbled, side-over-side, right - *plop* - into a mudhole. His entire right side was covered in wet mud.



















His tumble was magnificent, and my reaction was too. I screamed. And - the entire dog park crowd erupted in cheers and applause!

Well, upon seeing the reaction, Milo - Mr Entertainment - went right back up the hill, tumbled down again, and landed with his entire left side in the same mudhole!

















Thank God I keep a fitted sheet in my car. I had to put it over the passenger's seat to get Milo home.

When we got home, I loaded all my own luggage from the weekend into the house, then got him, led him into the house and to the bathroom, stripped down, stripped him of harness, leash, and collar, then we both got in the shower, where I wrangled with him for 20 minutes trying to get him clean.

Then I had to step back into my clothes and go to Walmart and walk every inch of it shopping.

It's one of those stories I said might be fun a year after it happens. But you know what? It's only a few hours out, and I'm already giggling.

I guess that's the Power of Milo.

Happy week.