I am not yet ready for the weekend to be over. Even thought we’re home now (no traffic on a Sunday morning, so driving was easy and I did all of it. Terry napped) and the dogs have quit telling me all about the horrors of being left in Will’s care for 2 days, I am still not ready for it to be over. Therefore I have turned in the chair a little bit so the pile of overlooked dog poo (they do that when they’re disgruntled about something) is out of my line of sight.
Because I am a paranoid worrywart, and the person left in charge of the house while we were gone didn’t ever answer his phone or respond to my 127 text messages, I was slightly (only very slightly, mind you, which is a vast improvement over times past) concerned that someone had broken into the house in the middle of the night and I’d find his dismembered corpse in the bathtub and all the dogs hides stapled to the living room walls. I’ve said before that my mind is like a chapter from a Stephen King novel.
Instead, what I found were 4 dogs who tried to convince me they’d not been fed for a week (we were only gone 2 days, but dogs have a lousy sense of time) and the person left in charge was awake and cheerful and the house (other than the small pile of poo I am trying to ignore) was in good order.
It took a bit of time getting all the purchases put away, but it is SO satisfying to have the empty mason jars filled again with purple barley, kamut, and wild rice. (and other stuff necessary for culinary creativity). I get a great deal of satisfaction in having such variety to choose from, and plenty of herbs and spices. The Dekalb Farmers Market has a nice selection of fresh herbs, in big bundles for Not Much, so I buy the ones I don’t grow, and freeze them- dill and tarragon, mainly. Those are herbs that really need to be fresh, as they lose most of their OOMPH when dried.
Oooookay. I guess I’d better go clean up the poo. At least, with the food we give them (Pedigree Small Breed ) their poos are small and hard, and don’t smell like much.
Terry was happy that we got home in time for him to see the race, and I have to figure out what to fix for supper, tho I might pull out the “I never cook on Sunday” excuse, even though I didn’t cook on Friday or Saturday.