Golden retriever, poodle mix

Maddie was glad to see me this morning. I spent some time playing with her after checking all the plants, but had to quit when the claws came out. We larked as soon as I got home, which was pretty late. It was hot out. We met a couple of people on the Heller road--a man jogging, and the woman with her Golden who warned us about the rattler last time. She didn't recognize me until she was right close and I was talking to her dog, though. Maybe because I was wearing different camos and a nonmilitary t-shirt? Hm. Anyway. Despite the heat, I managed to maintain a good brisk pace, even back up the hill on the way home, so maybe there's something to be said for long pants? Or something. I've also been thinking about borrowing Syd's bike, which she suggested before she left, but I'm still not sure I want to. I'll probably just procrastinate until I get home.

Owen, as requested, sent me some brother-pics. The one most to the point was Mom standing between Peter and Doug--and looking up at Peter. Quite a ways up, in fact. 

Urk. Maybe I should take a few weeks of Krav before I go home.

After lunch I decided to make brownies. Grandma had shown me where everything was, and I had just cracked the first egg, when the doorbell rang. Oops. It was the folks from JJ Caulking, come to inspect the situation. Jackie was along, apparently an irregular occurrence, plus her husband, Sam, and one of the boys, Clint. I use the term "boy" loosely, as he's twenty-seven. Anyway. They didn't stay very long, and then I got back to the brownies. I'd finished, and was initiating cleanup, when a deer caught my eye: there was a doe, probably once a nice bright red, standing on our side of the edge of the Seamans' driveway. Her presence, in itself, was unusual; besides it being the middle of the day and all, Grandma says the red deer rarely come up here, and it's true that she's the first I've seen beyond the Heller estate. Besides that, however, she looked awful. Her ribs were showing through her faded, patchy coat, and there were suspicious little black marks that made me think of very fat flies all up her neck and along her head. It was pretty sad. I think she was probably old; her movements were measured and slow, like Cassie's, and when Lark dashed into the greenhouse and began barking up a storm she turned her head, examined the situation, and then decided the dog was no threat. She remained wary, however, and after a minute or so she began to move slowly off.

The brownies came out very well. :) Now I'm wondering if I should take Sam up on his teasing and really make brownies for the painters when they come. If I don't I know he'll tease me, and I'd love to see his reaction if he thinks I took him seriously......mweheh.

Larked after dinner. We met only one person, a familiar jogger with his little poodle. No deer. It was fairly nice out, there having been a downpour during dinner, but there didn't seem to be anyone taking advantage of it. There was a police helicopter, though, flying back toward the far end of the little Heller valley.

15 pushups, form improving; 20 situps--note: don't count in English.

Finished Mistress of an Age, reading for three hours straight.....