After the St. Patrick's Day parade, and a two pints of Guinness each, we were walking George back home. Passing the post office, a giant SUV with a strange license plate pulled into the parking lot and the little dog inside started climbing all over the nice Japanese man who was driving, barking at George. The guy rolls down the window, points at George as if to instruct the little dog, and says, "That is dog."

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Another walk in the woods today, one that was too long for George, which means that from now on there will be George walks and us walks. I guess this means I can't use George as a reason why we shouldn't go any further anymore.

Oh, and someone needs a bath now, after sinking down into the mud, squish, squash, several times. Mud is good on hot day for dog.

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More than a little sad today, as the wonderful to ever have given us the space and the time Max has announced that our screenwriting workshop will soon disband. I imagine that some of us will stick it out in some capacity, reading each other's work. It's an awesome group, and I feel priveleged to have ever been a part of it. And so, yes, very sad that it will end soon.

All good things, they say...