Today was an outside sort of day. The tree is felled (complete with the ceremonial shout of “timber!”), the hosta are planted (hostas? I’m not sure), and Booker and I had a wonderful time digging in the garden.
This time when I say “we dug” I actually mean it. Booker got the scent of something and tracked it down by the drain. Where it disappeared. And he began to try to figure out how to get to it. Not surprisingly, he followed his nose, only his nose wanted to go further than it could reach. Booker began to dig. It probably would have been more effective if he had bigger paws.
The baby did the best he could with his miniature paws. He pawed. He sniffed. He dug some more. He sniffed a lot more. It’s possible he inhaled more dirt than he dug up. He never found the varmint but he kept himself occupied for more than an hour. And for someone with a pea-brain like his, that’s saying something!
Did you know you can finish a seam by felling? I haven’t quite figured out what that entails, but it’s another use for the word “felling” according dictionary.com.
It’s also been an allergy-filled day. Everyone is sneezing and snorting and sniffling. It’s a good day to own stock in antihistamines and Puffs.
I tried to find something interesting about the phrase “Shiver me Timbers!” It’s used as an expletive, but no one seems inclined to agree on what it actually means. Therefore (obviously) it falls to me to clear up the confusion. (Are you taking notes?) “Shiver me timbers!” means “Yark!” in Pirate [a language commonly spoken by people wearing eye-patches, drinking rum, and generally ignoring proper hygiene].
Timbre relates to the quality of a sound. No one ever yells, “Tim-bre!”
BTW—MOST excellent dinner.