I'd rather be at the beach! Way too cold outside for humans and dogs. Coldness chilled my bones and I got under a quilt with four dogs. Foxy's legs too wobbly to get on bed, so she was on the floor wrapped in a fleece blanket, feeling rather special. Me? Toasty warm with my Chi on my neck and three dogs curled around my legs and arms. The body under the wrapping looked twice as big as I. Dogs are fun to snuggle with to be warmer, but where is a man to make things hot?
Dinner with a friend and a glass of Pinot took the chill off early evening. My good friend, an antique dealer and artist, with her blonde white hair so straight and cool looking we gabbed on men and life. She gets it. Kicks butt too. But her man is keeping her warm tonight. I am on the computer again at the most ungodly hours.
Changing the background colors on here to match my mood of quilts. Patchwork of colors everywhere around me in bed today and suddenly my blog looked dull as dirt.
As dull as that 49 year old guy who explained the widow rule to me over dinner my first fall alone. Watching paint dry was more exciting. He's in my book under the snooze dates. A cougar with her prey and I had to send him back to his den, he wasn't coming to mine. The god of bad dates got me home quickly.
So now my blog is sparkly with color, the way a date with a much younger man should be. But all I got was grey.
Widow Lesson Learned: Just because a guy is younger does not mean he is good for anything.