First week of spring.

We took our iced coffees to go, walking under the new-blossomed pear trees that look like little bits of heaven and smell like rotting seafood. Cloudless sky, killer wind.

I’m committing to feeling this good all the time.

I want this.

This is a book called “Knit Your Own Dog.” Description: “The knitted dog is indeed the ideal companion: There’s no feeding, barking, shedding, or vet’s bills, and he’ll live forever!”

Why is this knit terrier riding a bike? Why not?!

Reasons why this is great: 1. He’ll live forever! All heartache over forever. 2. I have so many dog name ideas: Astronaut Mike Dexter, Puzzles, Ron Swanson, Friendly, just Dexter, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Lil Sebastian, Sufjan, Free Willy, Buster, MmmBop, Lemon, or Beyonce.

I’ll be a crazy cat lady. But with dogs. And the dogs are made of yarn. Shit just got crazier.

Pinkie, Snuffles, The Rural Juror, Gonzo...

Dad says:

“I’ve been thinking. There are only two requirements you need to worry about. You either need to get a job somewhere you really want to be … or find one that’s exactly what you want to be doing. One or the other and the rest will fall into place.

I had a veggie sandwich at the airport and it wasn’t as bad as I expected.”