C.O.D.!

Today was a good day even though not much happened. This morning after I walked twelve miles, I caught up with my e-mail. My good friend Denise Stevens sent me a video to watch and I loved it, because it was funny and made me laugh out loud. It was done by the BBC and it is animal voice overs and I hope that you will check it out.

Kinky called around ten-thirty. "Hey, Nance. What's going on?"

"Not a lot so far, but it's still early," I said. "I just finished walking twelve miles! Can you believe that?" Then there was a moment of the sound of silence on his end.

"What! Twelve miles. That's crazy, Nance," Kinky said, followed by a laugh. "You definitely are  O.C.D." I started laughing.

"What's C.O.D?" I cluelessly asked. "Cash on delivery?"

"It's not C.O.D., Nance. I said, O.C.D and it means obsessive—compulsive disorder and you need to get a hearing aid." We both started laughing.

"What?" I joked. "No, Kinky. I don't think I have O.C.D.," I said.

"Yes, you do," Kinky teased. "You walked twelve miles today—inside your trailer. And that's called O.C.D. and it is totally crazy." Not wanting to get into a debate with Kinky, because I knew he could win any debate with me or anyone else—hands down, so I laughed and then I tried to defend myself.

"Kink, the reason that I walked twelve miles today is because I have fallen way behind on my 2010 New Year's resolution schedule to walk 1,825 miles before the end of this year and..."

"I'm sorry, Nance. You have O.C.D. period."

As he chuckled I said, "Kinky, I do not have O.C.D. The reason that I walked twelve miles today was to catch up with my walking schedule and now I only have thirty-five more miles to walk in the next four days. And, I promise you that I will walk the remaining thirty-five miles to reach my goal before January first rolls around..." When we said goodbye to each other—we were both laughing about it.

Around twelve-thirty I heated up some homemade, frozen leftover gumbo soup and made a salad for lunch and T. told me that the soup tasted better—the second time around.  At one-fifteen, Tony and I took Maude to Hoegemeyer Animal Clinic, in Kerrville, to get her checked out, because last night she gave us a really big scare, when she suddenly fainted from excitement when Tone walked inside the trailer, like I used to do over fifteen years ago, because she loves him so much. Fortunately, she quickly recovered in less than thirty seconds and was back to being her old self again.

After we dropped off Maudie for tests, Buttermilk took us to Wolfmueller's Books, to see our good friends, Sandy and Jon Wolfmueller. Mary Jo cheerfully greeted us from behind the front counter, when we walked inside Kerrville's favorite bookstore and as always it was bustling with customers and tourists. "Sandy's not here right now," Mary Jo said, as she checked out a happy customer's books."But Jon is. He's back in the office." So, T. and me took off to the back of the bookstore to find Jon.

As always, we had a fun visit with Jon, but because he was so busy helping his customers find their books—we adios-ed him and left Wolfmueller's Books and came home.

Right before six o'clock tonight, we found out that our sweet, little Maudie, who has stolen our hearts, but doesn't even know that I exist, because she is so madly in love with T. and is Tony's dog, has heart worms. After talking about her to Dr. Jay Rydberg, he verified that Maude is definitely old, at least twelve years old or older, so he suggested that we treat her with the "slow kill method for heart worms," which will still be hard on our Maudie, but much milder than the standard treatment for heart worms. So tonight, please say a little prayer for our beautiful, little, lovable old lady, because she has stolen our hearts and we love her.

Y'all have a great evening!