Rosie Returns.

Hello my friends. Rosie's back after a busy, busy week. And I apologize to Sister Hawthorne who, along with everyone else, has gone repeatedly to my blog and seen the "same picture of what looks like a white pig's ear." Sister H even called to inquire as to my health. I am fine. Thanks for asking.
So, let me get started on sharing the intricacies, nuances, and exquisite and excruciating minutiae of my ever so exciting life, all of which I know you've been dying to hear about.

This was the view from my back deck the other morning. The haze is from the wildfires

burning in North Carolina, about 60 miles from us. The smell is quite strong here. The fire is believed to have been started by a lightening strike and has spawned an interesting weather phenomenon - a thunderstorm.

I went outside an hour ago to water some plants and the air was fairly clear and there was no smoke smell at all. Then a few minutes later I looked out and apparently the winds had shifted. The air is filled with smoke.

It's oppressively hot.

Of course, no blog post would be complete without some pictures off my flowers, so I offer you these.

My glads have started blooming. I really like this coral color.

Ooh ... I like the purple too.

Back in January, I bought me this orchid for my birthday present to me.

After several months of blooming, the blooms dropped off and a new stalk started growing, and here it is blooming again for the second time.

Yay! I didn't kill it.

Here's another view.
Aren't you proud of me, Marilyn?

Now, in addition to my not killing my orchid and it blooming again, another very exciting event happened in the Hawthorne Household this week.

Youngest Hawthorne gradumacated from high school. His last name starts with a W, so that's him in the last row, seventh from the end.

95 degrees. Half-mile walk from the parking lot.
Interminably long speeches.
Did I mention it was H.O.T?

Guess who that fine, handsome young man is, striding across the stage to get his diploma.
Congratulations, Youngest Hawthorne.

Hats, beach balls, and silly string in the air.

I'm sure you've been wondering about Dixie's tentative relationship with Beau.
Not much has changed.

Beau still likes to sniff Dixie's butt.

And Dixie still gives Beau a growl, a sneer, and the Evil Eye.

What's this???

Dixie fell asleep on her rug and Beau came over and snuggled up to her.

Dixie wasn't happy when she woke up.

Strange bedfellows, indeed.

I've had friends tell me that if they could be reincarnated, they'd want to come back as one of my dogs. Rosie was my first dog, a black Lab, in Doggie Heaven now. And Dixie is a Chesapeake Bay retriever. They're both water dogs and love it. Very different temperaments though. With a Lab, all you have to do is ask nicely and they'll do anything. Chessies require intense negotiations. They insist on knowing what's in it for them before they do something.
Dixie is very feminine. Whenever she lies down, she will daintily cross her paws. Check out her nails. Mr. Hawthorne painted them the other night.

She loves to float around on her rocketeer.

This is one happy dog.

She's smiling.

She like to rest on the top step and keep cool.

Dixie, chilling in the pool.

It's a dog's life.