Say Hello To My Little Friend

This our newest kitten - Zone V. "Five" for short.





The Day Lillies are out - looking good!



As are the Hydrangeas (am I spelling that right)? Never mind, it's late.



Molly smells a flower. Strange for her, she usually eats them. Well, to be fair, she eats more or less anything. This time, she just smelled.



Milo says hello to Five.



Mrs. Wiggy's Geraniums and Asparagus Grass. I dunno, I just take the photos. Nice, huh?



Milo is tired. What a sleepy dog. All tired out after eating our kitchen floor, no doubt.



Milo helps Mrs. Wiggy plant a thing. OK, what he's mostly doing is being a pest, but he does that with great enthusiasm. So that's good. Important to be passionate.



And Molly likes to check to make sure Mrs. Wiggy is doing OK, and if anything needs licking. Molly is good at that. Happy to oblige. If we needed a lot of stamps licked, she'd be our girl.



Your hero tries to murder Milo - but his neck is much too thick for Wiggy's weak and childish hands.



Molly giving me her soulful look. Those two different-colored eyes - creepy!



"We're innocent when we dream, when we dream, when we dream. We're innocent when we dream." - Tom Waits. Tom never met this little monster.



And that's it for a Sunday night.

Oh, one more - a photo from the Stadium Friday night. It was everything I hoped it would be...and more, my friends, and more.



I was wandering around in the Beer Garden, taking photos (really) and I came across this stalwart. I tried to get a photo - he spun around on me. I asked pretty please, he said no. Just then, a "Yuengling Girl" wandered past - he grabbed her, spun her around towards me, and demanded that I "take the pitcher now!" So, I did.

Later, won a Yuengling baseball cap - the Yuengling Girls wandered the stands, tossing out t-shirts and caps. I caught a cap, and Mrs. Wiggy asked if the girl who threw it was the one I took the photo of earlier. I allowed as I hadn't noticed, so could not recall. Mrs. Wiggy persisted - was the girl earlier blond, brunetted, long hair, short hair... I could not recall. I told Mrs. Wiggy that I was too busy trying to frame, compose, and focus. She sighed. "I worry about you," she said.

Well, I guess.

Good Night,

Wiggy