Day Five Hundred and Sixty Four

We had a nice walk this morning. In the empty pond. Where the ducks like to swim. In the summer.  It is a nice pond. I have my own path. Right in the middle. Then behind all the trees. Ha.

Niamh and Zita did not get home until way late. I had to stay up and wait for them. It is my job. 

Craig was in the den. With his new book. He is a knight. With a sword. And a nice friend. Only a little castle. Too small for ghosts. Oh well. 

Zita is writing for Mr. Saint Paul's. A lot. I am helping. On my comfy duvet.

It is Saturday. Craig did not go to breakfast. I do not know why. 

We did not have toasts. We had croissants. Croissants are French. Like me. We put them in the stove. So they are nice and warm. I always get the pointy ends of the croissants. That is good. 

Today is Niamh's dance all day long day. She had to get up early. Me too. Oh well. 

Emmet had to get up too. He is studying all about long ago people fighting about who had the nicest colour of roses. That is silly. You can not eat roses. We have green beans and carrots in my garden. We have beautiful flowers on my patio. Not roses. Roses are prickly. Silly people.

The television was right. More too much snow. When I came home from our nice walk I was a soggy dog. 

I saw Jamie. Jamie likes the too much snow. Oh well. She does not get so cold. Like me.