And there was light. . .

Bill spent the past day or two alternating between playing with the puppy and wiring the mudroom. I'm proud to say that the sunroom lights are wired (and they work, too). Now this may not sound like a big deal, but Bill had to un-do one three way switch and re-wire it as a different three way switch if that makes sense. This involved much crawling around in the attic on a hot humid day. I know as much about electrical wiring as I do about neurosurgery--in other words, not much. The two things seem about equally complicated to my way of thinking. But I do know that we now have a three way light switch from the kitchen to the mudroom, another from the mudroom to the garage, and another from the garage to the--um, I don't know. I'm lost. Let's just say that the mudroom is wired, shall we? I'm pretty excited. Time to start shopping for light fixtures.
And the puppy. . . He is still the most wonderful puppy in the world. It's true. We've done an informal survey and he is indeed the best puppy ever! Still only three accidents to his name. There is something to be said for having two older dogs around the house to role model appropriate behavior for a puppy. Sadly, just a few minutes ago, the puppy decided to lie down on the air conditioning vent between the kitchen and the sunroom. Those of you who have been around our house in the summer know that this particular vent is the sacred spot of one fifteen and a half year old labrador named Angus. Yikes! Fortunately, Angus didn't see the puppy lie down on HER vent--not sure what she'll do when she does see him.
You may have noticed that I've referred to the puppy formerly known as Rufus and Ferdinand as "the puppy" in this post. Yes, we're still not completely committed to a name for TBPITW (The Best Puppy In The World). At first, Ferdinand seemed perfect for him because he was so, so mellow for a puppy, just like Ferdinand the Bull was so, so mellow in the classic children's book. Now, however, TBPITW has become a bit more puppy-like. He's wrestling. He's chewing on us. He's pouncing on a clump of crabgrass we pulled from around the patio as if it's a wild boar. So, I've given Bill an ultimatum. (No, I'm not leaving him; it's a puppy ultimatum.) I told him that the sun could not go down until we had a definitive name for TBPITW. He said, "Let's call him Mr. Puppy!" so I had to alter my ultimatum to include include the word appropriate. Now, don't get your hopes up. We have eliminated a few names from contention. TBPITW will not be named Otis, or Egor, or Tiny, or Felix. Sorry, folks. We have our limits. Names still in contention include Augustus (Gus), Rufus, Beauregard, and, yes, Ferdinand. (Bill just came in and asked what Scoobert was doing--sign. Perhaps I'll have to name him myself rather than go the democratic route.) After sundown, we'll let you know the name. The important thing is that he really is a sweet, sweet puppy. He awakens only once or twice a night (if you don't count 4:45 AM as nighttime). He's currently sleeping under the couch, and chances are he won't fit next week. He better enjoy it while he can. More later!