spike1.JPGA theme of the past few weeks has been movement. Moves, arrivals, departures, suitcases, boxes, luggage. Happily there remain a mere 8 boxes in our midst, all of which are heading off to storage. (To those who enquired, there were an estimated 150 boxes, but at some point we simp,y stopped counting! Out target is if we move from here, we will have less boxes!) Sadly, there are a number of suitcases and their owners who stayed only temporarily, but what a difference those visits made.

At some point we pondered whether anyone would visit us in our new digs on Roosevelt Island. Our guess? No. Reality check? Yes! To date we’ve not been in our new home a month and managed to assemble guests including a pair of excellent Australians, a superb Canadian and my mom fresh off the plane from South Africa.

No pictures though… we still have to figure out where the camera charger is. Two possibilities: 1. It is somewhere among the insane number of chargers and cords that seems to have been replicating exponentially in one corner. 2. Calvin took a liking to it and…

bbq1.jpgSo instead, for your visual delight and care of dear CR, a photo of Calvin from a recent barbeque we attended. (Which I would have blogged about had I invented hour 25 of a day.) Suffice to say, warm summer afternoon, backyard and “Dogga!”

Dogs are Calvin’s creatures “du mois.” Any sighting of any furry, four-footed animal both real or illustrative solicits yells of delight at a high decibel. For the record, he does distinguish “Gatto” or cats in Spanish, from dogs. Cows, pigs, sheep and such are distinct animals, but not squirrels, mice, or donkeys.

This was his first up-close and personal encounter with a living dog. We helped him gently pat it and… the very next thing he tried to do was ride it. Needless to note, Spike the dog was very affronted and spent the rest of the party studiously avoiding hi would-be rider.

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