what the hell and kitchen duty

briefly.
So the missus fosters dogs in what free time there is.
The other day as I headed out to work, she mentioned there
was a dog that needed to be picked up. In the middle of a
quick run down of whatever events lead to whatever dog
needing a foster home, I heard 'young lab'.

I was also in the middle of looking for gloves, shoes,
my helmet and an extra tube. I followed with a quick
'sometime after 6', and headed out.



That small horse in the kitchen is NOT a Lab.
That 'small' dog under the horse is 'Bella',
our 75 lb Old English Bulldog (the large kind).
Bella (sorry for the unkind shot) somehow thinks
she can actually play with this thing.



I love ironic. Yes, his name is Tiny.
Tiny ruined my dog.
I thought my dog was big.
Big like a cow. That's what I called her.
A deaf cow.
Now Bella is small, small like a purse dog.
(I'm not Paris)



On another 'what the hell' note.
No it's not Denver, and the 'Brown Cloud'.
That my friends is road salt. A road salt cloud.
I ride a steel bike ALL winter.
I always thought I'ld like to own a bike shop.
But I hate working on dirty bikes.



Tonight I destroyed the kitchen I just cleaned.
I cleaned the crap out of that bike.
Then I cleaned the kitchen.
Again.