I don gardening gloves before diving out into the cold. I leave "Nonna" in the house watching Manga Anime and hope that this doesn’t constitute "elder abuse." I commence an hour’s hard labour, as I transfer rocks from the garden to the fence line. Thatcher, our new puppy is determined to dig for freedom. He has already adopted several favourable sites where he burrows. Broadly speaking, my neighbours are more mellow and tolerant than many, but the appearance of a 45 lb puppy in their back yards, might just tip the balance. As I heave, I think about all the other people determined to escape the premises. The deadlocks work for the children, but other "senior members" of the household are every bit as wily.
I can’t quite fathom when "exactly" life became quite so "complicated" but I’m certain that when I first installed the rock garden I had no idea that I would end up where I am now. The heavy, stability of a rock garden seemed the cement on our new American life. I never expected to be dis-assembling it for such a bizarre purpose.
I ordered it on-line as it comes with 3 homing tags. 
I’m so glad to be living in the 21st century.
And if anyone mentions wrap around services or Respite Care, I may just crack, or possibly croak, as it's strictly 'do-it-yourself' around here.
7 hours ago
