Word from Lily:
dinky
balalaika
poony
barnacle
malingerer
succulent

I stand guilty of malingering. (I really thought that word meant something else. I thought it meant “skulking”, as in mal (bad) + linger (hang around). But, insterestingly enough (what an odd phrase), the second definition of skulk is also “to avoid responsibilities and duties”. How odd that those definitions fused in my brain like barnacles to a tasty rock.)

Well, instead of producing dinky excuses I shall write. Did you know dinky also means “one of an affulent couple with double income, no kids? Dude, I so want to be a dinky. Dinkyhood here I come! Although, given the other definition, one wonders if it’s meant to be a pejorative rather than a commendation. No matter. I think the benefits of dinkyhood speak for themselves.

I looked up ‘poony’ in every definition I could find. Well, that’s only partly true. But I Googled it and got bupkus. Leading me to wonder if perhaps the esteemed author meant ‘pony’ or ‘peony’. Going with that assumption, and just to be safe, let us say that I would much enjoy purchasing a few ponies with my future dinky fortune and perhaps a gardener who could install some peonies in my yard. I say install because I’m sure in these high-tech days they wouldn’t need to be real peonies. Virtual ones seem so much more interesting. They could rotate on a daily basis, new species, new subtypes. Hell, they could even be fanciful creations of my dear gardener, who I shall call Lou.

Lou could dream up magnificent succulent shrubbery for the dinky-half and me’s front yard (and back yard, and gazebo, and pool area, and let’s not forget the endless balconies that float out from the house like ballerina’s tutus.) They would be clear though of course, so as to not obstruct the view from below. Hmm, but maybe not because then it would be awkward to dilly-dally upon them (wink wink nudge nudge). Well, we’d let the architect deal with  that issue. And how to muffle the sound from Lou’s dreadful balalaika playing.