April has arrived in North Florida with warm temps and some rain. This morning the sun is shining in my eyes as I attempt to write something that is not rubbish.

My dear husband, Don, has finally been called back to work. It has been nearly a year since a Union job has become available. Thank goodness the economy is looking better. Maybe, we are starting to see the come back of good things.

So, here I am in quiet solitude. Oops, no not really. Lyle Love-It (the basset hound) has just knocked on the door with his morning, "hey, come love me and feed me and call me Lyle". He is so dang funny and sweet at the same time. However, he seems to think that I am here only to do his bidding. We need to have a long talk about who is the human owner and the dog. Maybe the word owner is not the word to be used. He picked me as much as I picked him. So there really is no ownership involved in our relationship. Then again, I am sure he thinks he is my owner. It is truly a dog/slave relationship. Ha, guess who the slave is? Yep, that would be me.

I have found that at 60 years of age, I really don't mind being owned by my dog. He doesn't complain much and he is always ready for a love, a song, walk, or "hey, look at how silly I can be". I think he has the trick to a good life. Always be ready for a love, a song, a walk, or some silliness. There really is so little else that matters in life.

I think I'll take his advice and take a good long nap.