Well now, we all know that's not true I'd totally be a liar if I said the whole of the last 25 weeks has been a bundle of barrel-wearing fun monkeys.

But it HAS been remarkably smooth, all things considered. And, especially the way the last few weeks have been, I am counting my blessings.

On Thursday, we hit the 25 week mark...175 days. We have achieved, what many studies consider to be, the mean survival time. WE'RE BETTER THAN AVERAGE!! Woo Hoo! And maybe I'm biased, but I'd say we deserve WAY more than a C+ for our efforts :p

At any rate, there it is. I would have saved the festivities for next week, which would be six calendar months...a full half-year, ladies and germs, but as I type this we are headed up into the wilderness (no, really, the ACTUAL wilderness), and so  will be disconnected from both teh interwebz and from Sam-Dog.

On the upside, though...while I worry and fret about leaving him alone (well, alone with his five siblings, I suppose) for 10 days, esp. when we seem to be slowing down more than I'd like, Sam isn't worried at all, as he gets to celebrate his anniversary with his girlfriend Jacqie, our erstwhile housesitter, friend, and vet tech. And really, what dirty old man DOESN'T want to spend his big day celebrating with a hot 26-year-old nurse, right?

So, we'll head into the Boundary Waters, Sam-Bernadino will hang with his naughty nurse, and we'll have to mark the big day separately... but next Thursday, we will all be smiling and marking six whole months--a victory, for sure