We went to Trier, Germany, in the rain today. Trier was one of five official Roman residences in the 3rd and 4th centurys, and it was the home of Karl Marx.
Reminded me of Inchy in his younger days.
Das Foot
Karl Marx traffic lights
Roman ruins
Holding up the arch
Tunnels under the baths were used for maintaining the hot water for the baths.
We staoped by the Karl Marx Museum
Hour glasses showing how much time Marx spent in different cities. He lived longest in London and then Trier.
Spunk lost his tail for a few days. I finally found it. It had fallen under the steps into the library. He took it to bed for a nap not long after I put it back into his toy box.
A cat 7 was on the bed when Jake and I got back from our morning walk
Jake tried to get me up at our normal walk time, which with the time change was 5:00 a.m. I told him to go back to bed. He had to wait until the afternoon to go on a walk because I had a lot to do in the morning and early afternoon. The afternoon was beautiful. We got in a three-mile walk. Surprisingly, we only saw a couple walking their dog and two cyclists for being such a beautiful afternoon.
Silver, Glenda and Sasha stayed in bed longer than Spunk, Marble and I did. Spunk and Marble would have stayed in bed if I hadn’t gotten up.
I saw this Shelby Cobra on the way home from the store this morning. I can’t tell if it’s authentic, but it’s a great-looking car.
Spunk thinking about life, the universe, and everything after we got out of bed this morning.
Jake was seeing if the perpetual sneaker on the coyote that only coyotes, Jake, and I seem to walk on, would fit his right paw. He discovered that he got it on the wrong foot.
Almost got goosed by a couple of geese doing a close fly-by!
“What’s the password, Paparazzo? Sorry! ‘What? I don’t need no stinking password!’ is not the password. Ya wanna try again?”
Cranes flying up north from down south are passing through.
“What’s this uppity women from the Middle Ages stuff? What about uppity middle-aged cats from the here and now? I’m going to go medieval on that paper!”
Sunset
Beaver in the pink
Cranes that flew from down south, on the way north, roosting at 4th of July Point for the night.
Where cranes once foraged A lone duck stood reflecting in the shallows Silence pushed against the current Winter yawned while preparing her bed Spring stirred under leafy covers Dreaming colors that wait her awakening
Off Center & Not Even 