6:45 am: Still chipper as hell after such a perfect weekend, I actually got part of this post done before scurrying off to work feeling quite puffy because I just might be getting the hang of not being able to write whenever I want as long as I want…
What a productive, relaxing weekend. My carpet is finally clean — so clean I’m sure one of us is bound to crash into the other considering we stare down in wonder at the unrecognizable dust collector as we drift through the house. Amazing.
Saturday, the soiree was a hit. Turkish, Moroccan, & Greek food sitting on a plate all at one time is a tastebud’s dream. The only problem I have is that when I cook for these little events, the next day, I’m wondering about which dish I enjoyed the most. A couple of them will have to hit the dinner menu a second time just so I can drool over them individually.
Ahhh, Sunday was lovely. Although there’s something not quite right about getting out of bed at 9:30 on a gorgeous day. I haven’t done that in years. So after dropping the RTR off to war monger with his buddies, the MoH and I went for a long walk around the big bay, smiled at those brave enough to show their winter skin in full style, and admire the patience of someone who can do this. I’m more someone who would be inclined to throw them instead of artfully stack them.
After hobbling to our car, we decided that some Southwicks, a plate o’ pub food and a few matches of seven man rugby on satellite from the tourney San Diego hosted this weekend would be a good way to end a perfect day. Wales edged out the US for ninth place and not one single player had dirt on his uniform. I thought rugby was supposed to be a tough sport. Interesting game, though.
Just about as interesting a game as the one unfolding over the super delegates.
I’ll save that one for tomorrow, maybe.
1:30 pm: After a great day at work, I bound home ready to take on the next part of my day…finish this post, carpool, make doughnuts (mmm…raspberry filled powdered sugar doughnuts…), and complete a food post before luxuriating in the choice of a new books since I FINALLY completed the last one I’ve slogged my way through. And then…
I saw the pile on the carpet. My clean only since Friday carpet. It was parked next to the base board almost like it was planted there on purpose so I’d see it when I was changing my clothes. I surprised myself by not having a single murderous thought about The Yack Star when I realized that it was the wrong color for the cat to have gifted me with it. So the doggo was the culprit. A quick glance at her confirmed my suspicions when she averted her perpetually adoring gaze. I swear.
Do you think Purina would answer a letter inquiring about the need for yellow food coloring in their dog food? Can dogs see things in color? Maybe it smells better if it’s the same color as the chicken from El Pollo Loco. You know, like mustard.
I love my dog.