Search Results for: sully

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


  • Photo: Sully waking up… (Susan’s Photo)
  • Sully background

Lightly Child, Lightly

I’m tired.

I want to build a cushion nest in a space under one of the windows where there’s a patch of sunlight and go to sleep.

— Jillian HortonWe Are All Perfectly Fine: A Memoir of Love, Medicine and Healing


  • Photo: DK of Sully taking a nap in sunlight. (Wed, April 13, 2022)
  • Sully background
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

23° F. Forecast: Feels like -1° F.

Sully is hunkered down. It’s been a long day.

Sunday Morning

+ Sunday Morning. Sully waiting, not-so-patiently, for his pancake breakfast. And blueberries, ah so sweet blueberries, hand picked from the hills of Peru, they go down first.  + This morning’s walk. 40° F, yet feels like I’m traipsing through Antarctica, without the ice pack. Wind gusts up to 35 mph, finding exposed skin on the back of my neck. “To enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself.” (Moby Dick) + Email 8 weeks ago, I concluded it was spam. Trashed it. Same email 4 weeks ago, this one catches my attention. It was related to a blog post, a silly, innocuous blog post, including a photo from the internet, source attributed in the post, and without knowledge of any copyright restrictions. Email threatens litigation, claiming copyright infringement and seeking payment. This blog has been, is, will always be non-commercial. A hobby. Post removed. But chill remains. Hump Day is over, or maybe it’s just beginning. + And, so it is. Story not yet fully told. A trace of acid lingers on the tongue.  (Jeff Foster) “Life will eventually bring you to your knees. Either you’ll be on your knees cursing the universe…or you’ll be brought to your knees by gratitude and awe, deeply embracing the life that you have, too overwhelmed by the beauty of it all to stand or even speak. Either way, they’re the same knees.”  + And then it’s back to this morning’s walk, and here we are. Walking, on these same knees. And yes, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.


Sunday Morning is for….


Sully and for Pancakes…
(note the drool)

Sully background

5:00 P.M. Bell! S-1 & S-2

S-1 (Sully) and S-2 (Shroooooommmmm aka Giant Puffball Mushroom @ 1 week’s growth). (DK Photo @ 2:30 p.m. today).  Initial post on our Giant Puffball here.

I like Sunday Nights

It’s Sunday. I like Sunday nights, and this particular time always puts me in a good mood…

A transition into Monday, a waiting room.

—  Brenda Lozano, “Loop.”

Photo: Sully.

Saturday Afternoon


  • Nap Time! Sully fast asleep. Head strategically placed on top of the air conditioning vent. (Thank you Susan for Photo)
  • Background on Sully here.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (Let’s Go!)



  • Rachel’s Sully visiting for the weekend.  (Thank you Eric for the video)

Walking. With Cristian Pavón Peneda.

291 days. Consecutive. Like in a row. Cove Island Park daybreak walk.

I approach the gate to the Park. The Park gate is unlocked, the Park Keeper has never missed a day. And, I’ve never seen him. (Or her.)

Park is empty.

Me. My camera slung over my shoulder. Triple layers up and down, except hands, a pair of wafer thin gloves that allow me to trigger the camera dials.

27° F, feels like 17°, fingers are tingling, wind gusts pierce the thinsulate fibers. I slap my hands together trying to get the blood flowing. It’s not working.

I step off the path into the snow, piercing the layer of frost on top of powder snow.

I walk further out to get my shot.

The snow thins out, my right boot falls six inches down, water gushes in. I yank my foot out, grateful to have kept my balance and not immerse the gear. It’s all about the gear.

I get the shot. That shot, up top. Certainly not that good, or worth all that.

I walk.

Fingers are now ice cold. And the right boot, right sock, right foot are slopping in the sopping wet boot. Sh*t. Damn sh*t.

Mind drifts to Alison Luterman’s “Because Even The Word Obstacle Is An Obstacle.” It opens with…

Try to love everything that gets in your way:

and continues with some moving lines that you need to read here

And then closes with…

So your moment
of impatience must bow in service to a larger story,
because if something is in your way it is
going your way, the way
of all beings; towards darkness, towards light.

My fingers numb, right toes tingling. I’m cold. Damn cold.

An 11-year-old boy in Conroe TX died in his sleep of hypothermia…found unresponsive under a pile of blankets in a bed that he had been sharing with his 3-year-old stepbrother… after the family’s poorly insulated 40 year old single wide mobile home lost power during record low temperatures. Boy had been playing outside the previous day …excited…as it was his “first time” seeing snow.

I take the boots off in the garage. Wet socks come off too. I come through the back door in bare feet. The oil furnace hums in the basement. The warmth hits me. The house is quiet.  Our Rachel is visiting this weekend. She sleeps under a down comforter. Eric, living with us through COVID, sleeps soundly as well, two doors down. And Susan, further down the hall, sleeps with Sully. Still. Quiet. Peaceful. Warm. Blessed for this family…

And Cristian Pavón Peneda’s 3-year old stepbrother stirs in about an hour. His Mother’s arm is wrapped tightly around him.  Both are asleep in the same poorly insulated mobile home, on a mattress on the floor.

One will soon wake and look to play with his older brother.

And the other, towards darkness, towards light.


Saturday Afternoon

Sully visiting this weekend. (Feels like 10° F outside) 

Weekend Plans

Photo of Rachel’s Sully.

Sunday Afternoon

It felt as if one’s entire world was one, long Sunday afternoon. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go.

—  Ralph Gibson

Photo: Eric Kanigan of Sully and me. More on our Sully here and here and here.

Saturday Morning

Guess who came to visit!?!? Sully!

More on our Sully here and here and here. (Thank you Susan for taking photo)

T.G.I.F: My New Work-From-Home Assistant

Sully is visiting Grandpa DK for the rest of the week. My new Work-From-Home Assistant peed all over my rug and was then quarantined in the penalty box.

More on our Sully here and here and here.

Photo: Eric Kanigan, March 18th, @ Home.

Saturday is for…

Saturday is for Sully and for napping…Guess who’s visiting?!?!


Mission Complete

The casket of former President George H.W. Bush will reportedly be accompanied by his service dog when it’s flown to Washington, D.C. CNN, citing a source familiar with the plans, reported that Sully, a yellow Labrador, will make the trip with the late president before going back into service to help other ex-veterans.  Bush’s spokesman, Jim McGrath, shared a photo of Sully appearing to sleep right by Bush’s casket.  “Mission complete,” McGrath wrote on Twitter, using the hashtag

CNN noted that Sully is a highly trained service dog that worked with Bush starting in the summer of this year. He served Bush starting shortly after former first lady Barbara Bush died in April…

Bush’s funeral in Washington, D.C., will take place on Wednesday at 11 a.m. at the Washington National Cathedral. He is set to lie in state in the Capitol Rotunda from Monday through Wednesday morning.

~ Justin Wise, George H.W. Bush’s service dog to accompany his casket on trip to DC: report (The Hill, December 2, 2018)

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