This is a sugar shaker that resides in our home.
It was purchased in antique shop in England over fifty years ago.
(And no, I am not the one who purchased said shaker. Since I am only forty-eight.)
Actually, Steve’s parents bought it when they lived in England and have had it around their house all these years. During our visit to their home for Christmas, Vernie brought it out and asked if we would like to have it.
It’s quaint. It’s a conversation piece. Steve uses it every afternoon to add sugar to his “spot of tea.” And it matches the colors of our house.
What’s not to love?
Still practicing with the new camera and taking pictures of everything in sight. Such fun.
It’s especially fun when a certain little guy appears in the photo. A cute little guy. An endearing little guy.
Well, Snowy is endearing except for one thing. One little ol’ thing that I mentioned in an earlier post.
Sir Snowy has now become convinced that 4:30 am is the Happiest Time! of the Day. He also believes that 4:30 is the Perfect Time! of the Day for Mom to sit in her chair with him and do her Bible reading and blog writing.
So here’s the early morning scene at the Smith House.
I am sleeping. Soundly. At 4:30.
Suddenly, in the midst of my deliciously drowsy dreams, I hear a polite little, “scratch, scratch, scratch” on the bedroom door. I groan and mutter muttery things under my breath.
Thirty seconds pass.
“Scratch, scratch, scratch.”
Then a polite and helpful pause.
I can just picture Snowy putting his paw back down, post scratch, and then sitting sedately back on his haunches and waiting with great delight for what he knows will eventually happen should he just continue to practice his own patented brand of canine importunity. (Importunity is a word from the Bible that means “not giving up.” And since Snowy is a Pastor’s Dog, he tends to think in those terms. I think.)
Finally, when I realize that he’s really. not. going. to go away, I fling back the covers, stomp across the bedroom floor, and throw open the bedroom door with less than loving thoughts percolating in my heart.
And then I see this face.
Snowy catching a glimpse of me in all my early morning, disheveled crabbiness does nothing to dissuade him from the glory that is his life. As soon as he spots me, he goes into a veritable paroxysm of delight, flinging himself around the hallway, wagging his tail frantically, and panting and smiling with a tumultuous display of the happiest kind of joy.
And I know just what he’s thinking. “Mom decided to get up and spend time with me! I am so happy! I am so excited! Life is so grand!”
Yeah. It’s grand all right. If 4:30 a.m. can possibly be referred to as a grand hour.
And so Snowy and I have become early morning buds. I let him outside, feed him, and then the two of us just hang out in the peaceful, pre-dawn hours. (Although I do realize I could go back to bed after taking care of him, I figure 4:30 is right next door to 5:00 and 5:00 is actually a fairly reasonable getting up hour. And so I usually just stay up.)
And just because he really is pretty cute, I’ll close with a few more pictures of my importune pal.