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Copyright 2002-2005,
Pamela Hennings
7.18.2008
Check out my stuff for sale. Browse, yet, browse wisely. Then, hit the Contact link over in the right column there --->, and talk to me.
7.08.2008
Taking 4 sarongs to Oz, a wardrobe staple... specifically a beach and/or spa staple. Wrap one around the upper body, tie in the middle. Wrap another around the bottom, tie on the side. Hopefully the two clash like heck because no one cares, especially you, and that is the art of living.
6.29.2008
Yesterday morning driving to Big Basin, an SUV struck a piece of wood in the fast lane on 280 and flung it directly toward my windshield. God was certainly watching over me because it struck the hood, flipped once and hit the passenger side of my windshield, hard. Dented the hood, did not crack the glass. Lucky...18 inches to the left and had I been going faster, who knows what could have happened. The wood was about two feet long, about 4x4 with jagged ends. Not like construction wood, more like a piece of broken furniture such as a table leg or something big. Dented the car hood. I saw it flipping through the air towards me with real torque on it, and I was doing about 70. Thank you, Lord. Some wake-up call.
6.27.2008
I know this is sick, but I just had to describe TJ's (my dog's) new hood ornament.
Well, as some of you know, TJ loves to dig. He is ten years old and still just revels in a good, satisfying, deep-down dig in the back yard. Both dogs dig behind the two benches, and it's fine, they're not destroying anything so I just let them have at it. I don't think he's burying anything, more just creating a cool place to lie down in. So, for years he's had this minor little booboo on his big black nose that heals, then he re-hurts is and it's just cyclical. Lately, it's become a work of doggy folk art. It's formed into a big V that overhangs his nostrils in this thin little wing-like pancake, and white hairs have gotten caught up in it and when he eats and licks his chops he works at them and they're just all kind of knitted into the flying V part, like a lacy doggy doily. Dude is stylin'. Acts like a sun hat or something. It is interesting, gross, and I'm not EVEN touching it.
Well, as some of you know, TJ loves to dig. He is ten years old and still just revels in a good, satisfying, deep-down dig in the back yard. Both dogs dig behind the two benches, and it's fine, they're not destroying anything so I just let them have at it. I don't think he's burying anything, more just creating a cool place to lie down in. So, for years he's had this minor little booboo on his big black nose that heals, then he re-hurts is and it's just cyclical. Lately, it's become a work of doggy folk art. It's formed into a big V that overhangs his nostrils in this thin little wing-like pancake, and white hairs have gotten caught up in it and when he eats and licks his chops he works at them and they're just all kind of knitted into the flying V part, like a lacy doggy doily. Dude is stylin'. Acts like a sun hat or something. It is interesting, gross, and I'm not EVEN touching it.
Fantastic news: Carol Anne made the Dean's List at West Valley College! She has worked hard for this achievement and I do believe I'll reward her with a fabulous trip to some beautiful, ancient, faraway land. Hmm, how about AUSTRALIA?
6.18.2008
I found a fascinating article about the Granddaddy of Them All. The story is just slightly inaccurate in that it says the composite photo is comprised of 24 smaller photos, but I see 33. Can't fit this Baby in your pocket.
6.10.2008
In dreaming of Oz the mind wanders long
over oceans of clear azure blue
with clouds lazing low
the sands gleaming gold
the seabirds sweet calling to you
the morning's so fair
you never know where
your feet are about to take you
In dreaming of Oz it will not be long
till I'm breathing her clean coastal air
swimming long hours
this life is but ours
we'll begin it the day we get there
over oceans of clear azure blue
with clouds lazing low
the sands gleaming gold
the seabirds sweet calling to you
the morning's so fair
you never know where
your feet are about to take you
In dreaming of Oz it will not be long
till I'm breathing her clean coastal air
swimming long hours
this life is but ours
we'll begin it the day we get there