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Crofton, MD, 21114

A long-running personal blog shared by two authors with completely different approaches to life. And a lot of large, beautiful photographs of dogs and nature and places we've traveled to. Rich in commentary and irreverant in style. 


We started blogging a long time ago. Our work hours never aligned with recommended psychotherapists and we needed to get our thoughts out. We are great friends, total opposites and long-time housemates. This was a way to communicate. With each other. With strangers. With consumer marketers. With sub-par meteorologists. With distant friends who wanted to see pictures of stuff we were up to.

This is the place. Our bucket of thoughts to share. You are welcome. 
(We realize that most of you are here for the dog pictures.)

First Name Basis


My kid just called me by my first name.
This confused me. So I asked him about it. It seems that he believes he can call me by my proper adult first name when I wear my glasses.  I find that interesting.
I guess because I have been playing a similar mind game with him. I named his reflection. It’s George. George is kind of the Anne Frank of our family. He is only really ever seen in my bathroom. (Similarly this is the only room with both a step stool and a mirror). George is always excited to see my son.

There is a woman that lives with George that has a startling resemblance to me. Uncanny really. It’s George’s mom. Her name is George’s mom (she does not wear glasses so she has no independent  identity).  Well my son actually believes that I keep these people hostage in the bathroom.
This is a rumor that – if it got out – could ruin my reputation. So I told my son that George and George’s Mom do go out occasionally. But that when they leave the bathroom they become invisible to maintain their relative safety in public. Like the Beckham’s.

Well last night at dinner at the Four Season’s in Gambrills – I happened smell George’s mom’s perfume and I alerted my bored son to this fact. He’s a very quick kid…he scanned the restaurant – then in true Watson fashion shook his head and laughed to himself. “To the bathroom! Now!”
And low and behold – George and George’s mom were in the restroom at the very same time. We had a gleeful reunion. “Where are you sitting? Did you get the noodles with cheese? They have free bread WITH Butter”…

I noted a woman perched on the toilet straining her one eyeball to comprehend what was going on at the sink through the stall door crack.  As I was lifting my child to conversate with his close friends I just shifted my weight to block her view. This is why Brad Pitt and his family have no friends. There is always someone peeking in on them. Trying to gain access to their glamorous life by way of jiggling the lock.