"If I tell your dog..."

It's raining! The bad thing about this is that we were supposed to go to the beach, and now we can't. The nice thing about this is that I can sit in the yard and get wet and there is a different smell in the air. It smells like winter. Bracha and I stood outside and watched the rain come down and listened to the thunder, and she assured me that there would still be beach days left, and that soon the ri ver would fill up and I could swim there again.

Thursday we got on a bus to go to the board meeting and then got off that one and got on another. Bracha wasn't too sure where we were, so she asked the driver to tell us where to get off. He politely offered the seat right by the door and I sat down and looked out the window just as I like to do. When we got to the stop he told us that we had to get off here and started to tell Bracha that we had to walk up to the stoplight, cross the street, and turn left. We already know how to do this, but Bracha knew he was just being helpful, and she could tell he was a bit concerned because that corner is very complicated to cross. He looked down at me and asked, "If I tell your dog hwhere to go, will he understand?"