Category Archives: Letters

Letters from Tahn, part V

I know some of you come to my blog to solely read about Tahn. Sorry there has been so little about her!

But, since she’s not with me in San Diego I’ve gotten a few Letters from her.

Enjoy.

_______

(These letters were written on 10.20.11)

First, from my dad:

I couldn’t tell you this until now, because I didn’t want you to worry, but Tahn has been in Egypt looking for Gadhafi.
She found him and killed* him this morning, so she’ll be flying home this afternoon.
________
Then, from Tahn:
Dear Mum,
Well, I’m back from Egypt.  Everything went OK.  The news says Libya, but we know they always get it wrong. However, there are problems here.  G-pa put on his shoes and socks, which means we’re going for a walk.  Instead he went to have “coffee with Mick”. I’m going to kill him when he gets home, so you will be an orphan.  Sorry, but it has to be done.
Love, Tahn
_______
Although I miss Tahn like crazy, I know her Grandpa is taking great care of her.

She's a happy girl. She LOVES her Grandpa

*Tahn thinks she’s SUPER tough. She thinks she’s a fierce hunter. We always joke about her “hunting” and “killing” things. The reality is that Tahn is a lover and not a fighter and probably couldn’t ever fight to save her life. Well, maybe to save mine. 🙂

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Filed under Crazy Dog Lady, Family, Letters

An Impostor

As you may know, since my move to San Diego, I’ve been dealing with a few adjustments. I’m embracing the changes, and learning to deal.

I cannot, however, accept this…

______

Dear “VONS”,

The jig is up. I know who you are. I don’t even know why you’re pretending. Who do you think you’re trying to fool?

You’re Safeway.

Why are you trying to be something else? And, where in the hell did you come up with your dumb name, “VONS”? Why aren’t you happy to be you, a Safeway?

And, what kind of a name is “VONS”, anyway? I know Safeway isn’t much better, but c’mon, it’s who you are!

I go into your store, and guess what? Your store is exactly like the Safeway is used to go to all the time in Sacramento. The produce section, the aisles, the checkout stands and the Starbucks conveniently located at the entrance.

You look like a Safeway, you walk like a Safeway, you even quack like a Safeway. You’re a freakin’ Safeway.

Don’t worry, “VONS.” I’ll play along. I won’t blow you’re cover. Just know that I know.

Yours truly,

A Safeway Customer

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Filed under Letters