“Language is a living thing. We can feel it changing. Parts of it become old: They drop off and are forgotten. New pieces bud out, spread into leaves and become big branches, proliferating.” — Scottish writer Gilbert Highet

Our kitchen is being re- worked and is in the early stages. All the dust has decided to settle outside the kitchen floor. It preferred to settle on the wood floor and the linoleum.

This is causing confusion for Echo and Ptolme. What was left of the kitchen floor is not accessible for their food trays, at least for now.

As for Mello and Fred, they both were stationed in the backyard to avoid their barking in the house with the carpenters. Mello occupied the doghouse and Fred rested in front of Mello’s door.

Now they are back in the living room wrestling on the floor and taking breaks to chew on dog bones and do some occasional barking directed outside the windows. They are wrestling again, and I’m trying to stay calm.

One of my favorite mobiles I had attached to the kitchen ceiling I can’t get put back together again.

The last few days I have been attempting to read the “Galley Proof of You Much Crazy.”

As for getting it read I am on page 95, titled “Christmas 1967” with 70 pages to go.

Of course I have had some barking interventions from Mello, especially after school when I’m attempting to type or I’m out in the front yard digging out dandelions. This has been a bumper crop compared to last year’s, or as my old friend Dugger would say, “They’re thicker than snot.”

I don’t think dandelions really grew in California; that’s where Dugger hid out.

We used to be neighbors in what we called the ghetto and played Frisbee on Larchwood.

He lives with his dog next to a golf course close to the ocean.