A Glancing thought

Have always been a clothes horse, it's the nearest I've lived to the Animal Kingdom. I did spend numerous summers on my grandparents' farm, where my grandmother kept hens and a healthy little business selling the eggs, but I had a complete and total aversion to both the chickens and the eggs, and in a way, to my grandmother.

But more on puppy pads after I've been to the pet store. Just realized I have to set up all the stuff I buy before we bring the puppy home. Poor little beast.

Two thoughts on women and Poodles (yes, the p is capitalized), neither germane to today's activities, but such are the ramblings of an old Jewess's mind:

On modesty (this I must bear in mind to support me through this tense day and night) Reinhold Niebuhr said it best: "Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope...Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore we must be saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness." I hope to apply the latter to myself as well.

And a further thought on the French Poodle from Arthur Miller (well, he wasn't specifying the FP, but I am extrapolating): "Glamor, that trans-human aura or power to attract imitation, is a kind of vessel into which dreams are poured, and some vessels are simply worthier than others... A beautiful woman [Poodle?] can turn heads but real glamor has a deeper pull...Glamor is the power to rearrange people's emotions, which, in effect, is the power to control one's enviroment." I bow to Miller and will refrain from any ludicrous insights for now. But, I plan to put to use in my own life every sage's and solon's wisdom concerning French Poodles and life.

Soon, soon to the pet store, where a bewildering display of shopping in which I'm so far utterly uninterested awaits me. Maybe buying a French navy striped sweater-coat for Sugar-Suga-Shabbes will get me in the mood. Ah la la la la, as the Frenchwoman said when the cat slunk about her silk-stockinged ankles.