And in other news...

It's fig season for us. 

Unfortunately for my figs it's been a really wet summer, so some of them are splitting. 

Some were being eaten by a rat.  May he rest in peace. 

And while we're on the subject, let's talk about those freeloading ferrel cats living in the gulch. 

I mean, really, if your going to squat on our property and drive our dog nuts-o the least you could do is catch the rats that are eating my figs. 

New Marxist rule in our garden. All cats are proletariat.

Bailey had her turn with this trophy. 

I can't remember what they won it for.

Which sounds really terrible until I tell you that at their last game none of the parents even knew the score.

Awesome. 

Growing romaine from the bottom of a head. 

I kind of feel like a rock star doing this. 

For doing absolutely nothing. 

Rock on. 

Bailey got her school laptop. 

I don't even know what to say about that. 

(Thought stream: I didn't have a computer til I was in my twenties, she doesn't even have a phone, have you seen what her room can look like?!?, is this necessary?, can I get it permanently encased in bubble wrap?, she doesn't even have a job!)

In summary:

Cats must work or face eviction. 

We love our soccer team more than their score. 

I grow lettuce therefore I am a rock star. 

Bailey's a lucky dog.