After polishing off some morning articles, I spent the rest of the afternoon making cobblers and teaching the (young) dogs (new) tricks. Shackleton is learning "put 'er there" (his macho version of "shake hands") very quickly, but Cromwell has some difficulty with "charmed" - when he lifts one foot off the ground, he tends to just tip over.

Then I abandoned work altogether to devote myself wholeheartedly to Go Fug Yourself (thank you, Bill). I'm not usually one to wish I was friends with celebrity bloggers, but anyone who can describe a dress as "a beer wench at a French rodeo" is someone I want to meet. In this case, two someones.