A blog by my friend, Kippy... Click on the link to see more photos!

A Killer's Killers ...
Apr 25, '08 7:38 PM

I just came upon a set of 20 photos ... they are of some of the pit bulls rescued from Michael Vick's "kennel".
(photo by Eric Risberg for The AP)
With wet eyes and a lump in my throat I have absolutely nothing to say but .. awesome.

This morning, shortly after we got up, Jorge said to Tatiana, "Oh, Ana called for you."

Startled, Tat answered, "Who's Ana?"

"How must I know? Call her anyway," he replied, handing her the piece of paper with the name and number.

Tat ambled over to the phone. "Ugh! Mom! Look at this!" She pointed to the name, 'Ana Conda'.

"That is probably just your dad's idea of a joke," I said. "Call her anyway."

Tat is a good girl and listens to her parents.... sometimes. She called...

I tried hard now to remember her reaction, but Tat suggested that it wasn't repeatable. It went along the lines of... "Argh! What the.... DAD!!" Yes, that was a more simplistic version.

Why all the fuss? The number was to the local zoo. Naturally. Where else would Ana Conda live?

 

With this theme, you get a little peek into my world, or should I say, out of it. I took this photo sitting at my computer. The window next to me was open. The photo I took was of the reflection in the window and our neighbour hanging out her laundry and, yes, the security bars too. Every door and window here has security bars. Before we moved in, the people who lived here had been burgled three times in as many months. Everything had been stolen. We took no chances. We would move in on condition the owner improved security. Between the bars and our dogs, I guess we're safe enough.
So this week, I don't have a very aesthetically pleasing photo. I came up with bars, bars, and more bars. I have photos of some lovely bars and fences, if something like that can be called lovely, but they're not very original as photos. Perhaps this photo will also give you an idea of why I crave wide open spaces...
Do visit Picture Perfect to play along! While I think about it, you can see another choice I had for today's theme here.

I have proved it conclusively.

As some of you know, I have been trying to get fit... to my downfall, of course... quite literally. Trouble is, I tend to tackle things with gusto. If there's a new anything to be learnt, I climb in, boots and all and learn it. If I take on a new hobby, I never start small. I jump in at the deep end and either sink or swim. I have always held to the belief that if you're going to do something, do it with gusto and with gusto is the way I go.... down.

I have been feeling rather energetic. Actually, that is a lie. I have not been particularly energetic, as I've been sleeping badly, but, thanks to the exercise I have been getting, when I have been on the move, I have not been as out of breath as before. Last night, we needed some bread to go with our soup. I offered to dash up to the bakery, two blocks away. The air was cool... lovely... so I skipped out of the yard and prepared to run up. I had hardly gone half a block, when I found myself airborne.
You know that old expression, "The bigger they are the harder they fall"? As I was telling a friend, I came down like a felled Redwood. We live on a very busy road, a thoroughfare between two major roads. This was right in the heart of peak hour. Need an audience? I will find one. I think the ground vibrations stopped traffic. One biker pulled up next to me and asked if I need the hospital. It is worthy of note here that he didn't get off his bike to help me up from my nose-to-the-ground position. "No, no," I assured him, wishing the ground would do its job and swallow me up. After all, it must have been a huge hole in the ground to make me trip like that, right? Another one of the milling passers by helped me to my feat (deliberate typo... that was a Feat). Thank goodness for the dark. They couldn't see my red face.

Now, I'm weird. I usually, at this point, try to pretend nothing has happened, so I took a few wonky steps in the direction of the bakery. Then I looked up and saw the crowd in the doorway of the pub across the road and the people buzzing in and out of the bakery further ahead. Memories of the queues at this time of the night and the curiosity of the natives made me back off. No way could I face that, so I hobbled home.

At this point, Tat took over as chief nurse in residence. Jorge went to the pub to fetch some bread. On his return, "Did you trip over that crack in the sidewalk outside so-and-so's house?"  Poor delusional man. No matter how much I told him it was a crater, he just missed the point entirely. Truth is, it doesn't take more than a hairline crack to topple this biped. I think I will just stick to walking in future. We all know I can't run to save my life *sigh*