Parasites!

My blog was trespassed upon by (ewwww) spam.

Parasites and scavengers in the wild are referred to as opportunistic feeders. They should add spammers and phishers under that category too.

It is very much like getting a case of hookworm, a parasite that can be gotten from just stepping in "it" - I guess the "it" in this case would be the WWW. If you don't go in and kill them first, they will polute your blog and kill it.

I activated the comment security thingy (a ha, you naughty little donkeys! Take that and die!) and deleted all the wonderful information about penis enhancement pills. I will continue to check my comments, hoping that they will continue cleanly from all my dear fellow bloggers and not - I'm amazed at the analogy here - spam infected crap.

The Fool on the Hill

Most of the time I feel as though I am the fool on the hill. Even though I have people whom I love in my life, I am separate. I am an "other". I watch. I listen and understand. I'm not really a part of the machine. I really never have been. I've written poetry about this when I was young. I am still there. I wouldn't know how to act if, all of a sudden, I was included. I know that I value my solitude. So, I guess, It is of my own doing.

My husband is definately part of the machine. I watch him moving and shaking things; connecting with people all the time, every day. I'm amazed that he loves me.
He has a gift.

It's funny. Once in a while, when I really want to participate, I try to be part of the picture. But, I'm a wrench. I am weird - a polysided peg in a round hole.

I've learned that I am loved by a few and I am who I am. I guess that there are people who are movers and shakers who are still very alone.

So..I sit on my hill. I appreciate what life has given me and I watch the horizon for what comes next.

Fun At Camp

Trudy and I are home from camp! We are both really tired and sore. If you know Trudy, you know that this is a good thing.

The people at camp ranged from typical people with typical dogs who just wanted to do fun things, to rabid "dog people" who do all sports and competitive things that you can do with a canine (conformation, agility, utility, therapy dog, flyball, lure coursing, frisbee, free style, rally O, shutzhund, tracking, field trials, cart pulling, weight pulling, go-to-ground, pier jumping and I know that I've missed something). I fall somewhere in the middle.

It was fun to sit back and observe everybody. It seems that, for some, the dogs are extensions of their own persona. Either what they would like to be or what they are. You begin to realize that there are as many types of people as there are dogs.

Trudy just loved everybody. Almost (not everybody) that she approached wanted to hug her. She is so soft and....happy. She had several best dog friends, Lucy, a spunky Shiba mix who she would play wrestle with for what seemed like hours in the evening when Mom was drinking wine and lounging by the fire with other Moms, Echo, an absolutely gorgeous brindled greyhound with an elegant tapestry collar an an silver and amber fob hanging from its loop (they played with gentle gusto at craft class and then would rest together with intertwined legs) and Adam the black "rock star" afghan hound who had a big crush on her.

Maybe she is what I wish that I could be.