Well, here we are. Finally I figured out what a Blog is. They didn't teach that at the computer school I went to. They didn't even know what a Web was back in the DOS days. So, here I am beginning one. Recovering from a mild case of food poisoning at the same time.

I went to get a chicken, that good rotisserie kind from Albertson's and some strawberries for my grandsons last Saturday after Church since I was babysitting for the that evening. When I got home, neither of them wanted chicken, only the strawberries which was a blessing, because I ate the chicken. I got sick. They were fine. and still are, now, several days later, I still have the sweats, wobbly legs and no desire to eat Chicken any time soon. The store offered to give me a new chicken when I called to tell them that they might want to consider tossing the chickens 3 hours after the dinner hour and thank you very much, but I did not want to think about chicken soon or maybe ever. They could reimburse me. Our bodies weren't made to swallow upwards if you gt my drift. My ribs hurt, I can't cough and I have spent so much time lying down that my little dog wonders what in the world is wrong with me. Of course it is his job to lie down next to me at all times, but usually has has the opportunity to chase squirrels several times a day. That first day, I think he went out twice.

Freddy is his name. A brindle dachshund whose sole purpose in life at this moment is to make sure none of the squirrels in our backyard succeed in eating the squirrel food. That food incidentally is put there purposely to entice them to entice him to chase them so that he will lose a pound or two to be able to fit in a pet carrier to go under an airline seat in a couple weeks. He is almost to the limit. After my husband passed away 4 years ago, I decided to have him fixed, it was a guy thing before not to do it, but within just a few weeks he turned from a sleek little pooch with a waistline into a sausage. Now he weighs about 1/2 lb too much, but we are working on it. He is also wearing the calluses off the bottoms of his little feet. He is the same color as the mulch under the hedge, so he will silently wait there until they creep down the tree to leap into the big coffee can nailed to the tree to get a snack. Then he will bound out from under the hedge and chase them back up the tree where they belong. Or he will watch out the window from the back of a chair until there are 3 or 4 arguing about whose turn it is to get in the coffee can, and he will tear through that doggie door like lightning to do his God given job.