Got

Got--one of the all important words. Seems like lately my "gots" are things I find on the floor to take to Mama (perhaps as a commentary on our joint effort at vacuuming each day). Today I found a (probably one of many as they are still falling in large quantity in the yard) stray leaf that made its way into the house.

Popcorn

The art of making popcorn hasn't changed much since Mama and Daddy were kids. I've gotten the hang of walking and pushing it as well as picking it up to redirect its path when I hit a wall, the door, or Pete. Pretty proud of my flexibility, I can pop popcorn while knee-ing across the floor too.

My bed: Pete's bucket

Pete's bed (it's called his bucket)has become the hot spot for me. Most of the time he senses that I am coming toward him and graciously gets out so I can get in--today, not quite happening. I pet/pestered him for a minute or two and he finally got the hint and I got his bucket. Pete certainly is good as gold.

Sneaking in Pete reaches for a lick or two, not quite sure how serious I am about wanting him to get out of the bucket All mine!

Noise maker

There is absolutely nothing quiet about my entrance into a room. Mama purchased those little bells to keep my shoelaces tight (and to jingle in case I got too quiet for her liking I guess)--absolute waste of money as I want you to know where I am.