Before I begin my blog today, let me apologize for having taken such a long hiaitus. I have had a psychotic schedule for the past five weeks. I suppose that's no excuse. If one is to have a blog there's a certain responsibility to keep that blog up and running. After all, I have 14 followers.

Fourteen people out there are counting on me to keep you up to date on critical information about my crazy, nutty life. So, sorry. I really mean it. It won't happen again. Now, onward...

I have so much to tell you that I don't know where to start. There have been wedding doings. You do know that our oldest son is getting married May 24th, don't you? There have been book marketing doings. You do know I have a flutterbies book out, don't you? There have been vacation doings. You do know I spent a week at the lake chasing geese, don't you? (That's a whole blog in itself!) And, there have been getting ready for Spaghetti for the Soul conference doings. You do know that special day for women is April 25th, don't you?

I should have been writing about all of that. But, I didn't. So, now, I'm just going to tell you about my walk today. Francie and I just returned from a walk with Patience and the whippets. It takes three rounds to walk the whippets. Francie doesn't mind. She likes all nine of them. They don't feel the same. Well, just one of them doesn't feel the same. Mama Pajama is not that fond of her. Francie is small, hairy, and gets in her space like a rabid rabbit might. Mama Pajama doesn't find that amusing.

Mama and the new whippets, Easy and Spice, go on the first walk. They are fairly happy to ignore the short, hairy dog. The second walk consists of Fat Charlie, Delia, and Giocomino. Of these three, Delia is the least crazy about Francie. Fat Charlie and Giocomino are unconcerned with her - unless she gets right up in Giocomino's face; then, he might give her a little lesson. The third walk is the friendliest for the furry tag-along. Swede William, Lindy Lue, and Sam I Am don't have issues with small, hairy Corkys.

In fact, Francie has a crush on William. He's from Sweden, so he's got that appealing foreign accent. He's got a different look about him. He's tall, dark(ish) and handsome. She's quite taken. Smitten, you might say. She tries to snatch kisses right there on the sidewalks of Paducah. Sometimes she jumps up on the curbs to make herself taller. She yearns to gaze into his eyes. "Look at me!" she calls with longing.

An interesting phenomenon happened today on our walk. Usually - we're talking 90 percent of the time - people go goo-goo, gah-gah over the whippets. "Oh, those are beautiful dogs!" they'll say. "Are they greyhounds?" Patience thanks them, tells them that they're a smaller version of the greyhound and we go our way. NO ONE makes a comment about Francie. I am not exaggerating. Ninety percent of the people we encounter on our walks IGNORE my precious dog. They make NO COMMENT whatsoever, favoring the long, sleek, elegant whippets instead of my low-slung, fuzzy, funny-faced Corky.

Occasionally my eyes well up with tears. I try to blink quickly. I bite my lip bravely. I look to the horizon and think of something else. I try not to care. But it hurts, people. It hurts.

Today, though, today was different. Four - count 'em - FOUR people out of six or seven (not sure now) commented on Francie! They said she was cute or noticed her in a positive way! Oh, I do love those quilters. What a day! What a day!

So, you see, I had all those big doings. Wedding. Book. Vacation. Geese Chasing. Women's Conference. And, when it really comes down to it, the daily walk is what matters.