TIME: What is it and where has it gone?

It just can't be possible that I have not blogged in two months. Yet, I stare at the last blog date and know it is true. A writer now, working on my book, the saying  "life interrupts writing" does not fit. In my case--- writing has interrupted life.  I have not recorded all those priceless moments with Poodles in my Poodle Parlor.

The socked feet pitter-pattering along, dusting my wooden floors these last days, has been a treat.  I love listening to Britton and Kenley, with their Swedish dialect, bossing their demands on each other,.  Of course, I understand their language perfectly, since the "unrecognizable vowels and consonants"  passed down from the Kuersteiner side of the generation pool is familiar.  Once again, I am transcended to years gone by when Garrett and Sara Britton spoke this same language. Someone once asked me if they talk in tongue. I smiled and told them it was a new language.

Allie Boone is pulling up, her little padded toes in perfect point, as though she just slipped off her ballet slippers. I predict she will walk before she is ten months old. Her infectious smile radiates our room-- beaming love to our hearts. We are more than blessed. 

The last day of Summer has passed and we are gazing through a haze of heat towards our Fall. Our family beach week over July 4 was filled with sand, surf, shopping and sharing poodle love with Sassy and Pop. All nine of us, piling into a charming condominium, worked better than we thought. Estrogen and Testosterone neatly packaged in a bundle, tied with the pink bow of little girls.