Licorice was invited to come speak at Hippie School, today. Well, okay. TECHNICALLY she was just invited to come in. I think the understanding was that she probably wasn't going to talk. But part of the fun of Hippie School is that they do a lot of hands-on stuff, and that means that while they're doing a unit on animals, the kids get to bring in their pets. Super fun, right? [Sidebar: For this unit Monkey is doing a research project on badgers. I don't know how he decided that this was the animal he wanted to research, but now I know more about badgers than I ever wanted to or thought...
I kind of left you hanging, this week. I'm sorry. I would tell you all about it, but I'm currently still in the "I hate everyone and everything" phase on several fronts, so give me a few more days to return to some semblance of humanity. In the meantime, here's a dog: She says she absolutely was NOT sleeping in the sun when I crept up on her, and she was NOT attempting to lick the drool off her whiskers when I insisted on taking her picture. Also, I love how even she is giving me the hairy eyeball. GET IN LINE, LICORICE.
We interrupt your regularly-scheduled Reporting On Very Serious And Also Fairly Depressing Things to bring you this important update on where we stand in my campaign to convince Otto we need another dog*. Mario's family went away for the weekend, and so we had Kaiser here with us for a couple of days. (You remember Kaiser! He is Licorice's boyfriend and partner in random barking, as featured in this post about our recent camping adventures.) I was thrilled because next to Licorice, Kaiser is perhaps my favorite dog. And I figured they would play together and it would be delightful. And also...
It's Tuesday, and that means I'm over at Feel More Better. Today I've written a little love letter to Licorice, because that's what my life has come to. Love letters to my dog. (Normally I just sing to her, you understand. You are my pupshine, my only pupshine / You make me happy, when skies are gray. / You'll never know, pup, how much I loooooove you / Please stop snarfing butter, okay?) (I'll be here all week!) If you've ever loved a pet the way I love her (that is to say: beyond reason), you should definitely come check it out. Yesterday several of you asked for the chocolate muffin...
This morning we set alarms (and got woken up early, anyway, by our trusty I-saw-you-breathe-it-must-be-kibble-o'clock prancing canine alarm) and got up early and the boys went back to school. Monkey's first day back to Hippie School, and Otto's first day back to teaching. Of course I made them pose. (Please disregard the fact that Otto really needs to polish his shoes and instead focus on the fact that Monkey's feet suddenly do not seem all that much smaller than a full grown man's. ACK.) Last night as we lay in bed, I commented to no one in particular, "Well, I'm ready for our summer to...
I have become the Queen of Inappropriate Laughter. This isn't entirely new; I have always had a bent towards the unintentional snicker at less-than-optimal times. But now---mired in grief and worry---I go entire days in complete numbness, it feels like, only to have the odd comment strike my funny bone. I laugh until I cry. And that's a nice change of pace from just crying. Otto and his brothers text each other all the time. The other day, Nearly Nickless sent Otto a text that had him guffawing. I asked to see it, and at first I wasn't sure what was so funny. It was a picture of Nickless...
"You know, I'm just catching some waves, enjoying some time with the family, sneezing for pieces of banana, and the cameras still follow me wherever I go. This isn't even my good side! And my tail was all tangled! Hmph. I need a drink. Hey, is that bacon grease?"
Did you know that school is finished for the year here in just a few weeks? (And before the usual slew of "No fair! You get out so early!" comments that this usually brings, allow me to point out that the kids went back to school the first week of August. They've had a whole year.) Anyway, it's true. School is nearly out for the summer. Just a few more weeks to get through, which means that everyone's Great Big Hairy Meltdown is right on schedule for... now. This happens every year. I have no idea why it surprises me, every time. But the children are... oh, a little on edge, let's say....
Easter was a relatively low-key event 'round here. Thanks to my last-minute grocery store run, we had enough food to feed a small army. This isn't my fault; given our plans to just have a quiet dinner of the four of us, and given that one of us doesn't eat meat, my intention was to buy a few ham steaks and we'd just cook them out on the grill. But it turns out that the day before Easter, giant hunks of pig are actually cheaper than smaller, more manageable hunks of pig. Naturally, I opted for a small ham because it was more food for less money (and that's my particular mental illness, that I...
