dual personalities

I met a friend for coffee this morning and rather than leave Mr. Smith in his crate, I left him in the kitchen. Free to roam. And drink some water. And eat his breakfast. But apparently, he was affronted. Because this is the face that greeted me upon my return.

I mean, if looks could kill, right? He seems to have forgotten that just the night before he was enjoying my lap.

Anyway, I had wonderful time in Mahomet last weekend. We braved the spitting rain to see the Little Bulldogs complete three cheers at the Mahomet High School football stadium, hit up two estate sales, AND went to Oktoberfest at the local brewery.

Please note, the perspective is all wrong on this. The stein was legitimately much larger than my hefeweizen. It never ceases to amaze those of us who have lived in grotesquely large cities that you can just go to a place, get a parking spot, and find a table to sit and bask in the live music and outdoor festivities. It was lovely.

This weekend, my mother and I are heading to St. Charles for a DAR event–a patriot grave marker–and we may check out some “vintique” malls while we’re there. I hope to catch up on some chores. And maybe get some fencing to block off access to underneath my deck. Of course, I know the face I’ll get if I do that.