From Pam Houston’s new book Deep Creek: “Where there is life, there is hope, a veterinarian I loved for the way he loved my dog once told me. By which he meant, as long as we are living, there is always time to expand the story.”

I read that this morning by accident, as I have just checked the book out of the library and haven’t started it yet, and was flipping through it while sipping coffee after I had walked my recovering from surgery dog Pearl, very slowly, in the yard, on a leash (she is doing great) and then my completely healthy and rambunctious other dog Trixie down the beach trail tossing sticks and charging at crows.

Do you wonder why words find you when they make the most sense? Do you think it is random, that in the middle of what I’m calling my dog days, I came upon this? I don’t.

Today is Palm Sunday, and I’m taking my grand daughters to church so they can know what it is like to tickle or whack each other with palm fronds and what they feel and smell like and to give some spiritual weight ( even if they may not feel it) to Easter next Sunday. The weather is good for the annual Blessing of the Fleet this afternoon, cloudy, a light North wind, and it’s supposed to be in the 40s by then. The choir will sing and prayers for a safe and successful season on the water will be said, and we will remember the dead, and that ┬áreminds the living that we still have time to expand the story.

(Also, I hope this works, as it is my first attempt to post in the new format.)