I was so sick of turkey after Thanksgiving that I couldn't even stand to look at the pictures.
But enough time has passed now. And I must say, I'm pretty proud of my first turkey.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Her Milkshake Brings All the Boys to the Yard
Daisy and I were playing ball out in the back yard last Sunday morning. I had her tied to the clothesline. We were alternating between the soccer ball and the tennis ball (the soccer ball is tougher for her to get her mouth around, but Daisy finds the way it bounces around simply delightful. And tennis balls are magically delicious...). Just then, I heard a rustling in the leaves off in the distance, and somebody yelling repeatedly. Suddenly a chocolate lab comes running around our neighbor's yard from the side and starts to head right for us.
He comes up to the fence and stops short. He's leaning against the fence, looking for a way to get over into our yard. Seeing he's fairly friendly and doesn't look too aggressive, I lean over the fence and grab him by the collar. I yell out "OVER HERE!" to whoever it is yelling off in the distance.
He sees his owner coming around the corner, then leans back and slips out of his collar. He takes off in the other direction toward the road. Dammit.
The owner finally makes it over to where Daisy and I are standing. I hand him the empty collar. Our fugitive's name is "Mocha". He had been left in the car for the last two hours while owner-guy was at the Quaker meetinghouse. Mocha saw his chance to get away as soon as the car door was opened and he ran for it (apparently, Mocha isn't big on the whole "silent meditation" thing).
Daisy is all kinds of crazy by this point. NEW PEOPLE! OTHER DOGS! SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF! JUMP JUMP JUMP!
I calm her down enough to get the leash back on her and we head out looking for Mocha, with Daisy as the bait. We live on a fairly busy road, so in the back of my mind, I'm hoping Mocha isn't roadkill by the time we find him.
After a few minutes walking up and down the street yelling for him, we see that he has somehow circled back around and is in our back yard again. We head back over to our house, and he meets us in the driveway.
I hang on to Daisy's leash with one hand, then drop down and give him a bear hug and hold on to him tightly. Mocha's owner makes it over and gets the collar and leash back over Mocha's head. But he wouldn't have been going too far at that point. He wasn't going anywhere until he gave Daisy the complete sniffing.
Daisy was exhausted after all that excitement. We headed back inside for a nap. I was glad that she made a new friend, but I don't think Mocha's owner is going to be bringing him to services again anytime soon. Maybe the Lutherans have singles night for dogs...
Daisy and I were playing ball out in the back yard last Sunday morning. I had her tied to the clothesline. We were alternating between the soccer ball and the tennis ball (the soccer ball is tougher for her to get her mouth around, but Daisy finds the way it bounces around simply delightful. And tennis balls are magically delicious...). Just then, I heard a rustling in the leaves off in the distance, and somebody yelling repeatedly. Suddenly a chocolate lab comes running around our neighbor's yard from the side and starts to head right for us.
He comes up to the fence and stops short. He's leaning against the fence, looking for a way to get over into our yard. Seeing he's fairly friendly and doesn't look too aggressive, I lean over the fence and grab him by the collar. I yell out "OVER HERE!" to whoever it is yelling off in the distance.
He sees his owner coming around the corner, then leans back and slips out of his collar. He takes off in the other direction toward the road. Dammit.
The owner finally makes it over to where Daisy and I are standing. I hand him the empty collar. Our fugitive's name is "Mocha". He had been left in the car for the last two hours while owner-guy was at the Quaker meetinghouse. Mocha saw his chance to get away as soon as the car door was opened and he ran for it (apparently, Mocha isn't big on the whole "silent meditation" thing).
Daisy is all kinds of crazy by this point. NEW PEOPLE! OTHER DOGS! SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF! JUMP JUMP JUMP!
I calm her down enough to get the leash back on her and we head out looking for Mocha, with Daisy as the bait. We live on a fairly busy road, so in the back of my mind, I'm hoping Mocha isn't roadkill by the time we find him.
After a few minutes walking up and down the street yelling for him, we see that he has somehow circled back around and is in our back yard again. We head back over to our house, and he meets us in the driveway.
I hang on to Daisy's leash with one hand, then drop down and give him a bear hug and hold on to him tightly. Mocha's owner makes it over and gets the collar and leash back over Mocha's head. But he wouldn't have been going too far at that point. He wasn't going anywhere until he gave Daisy the complete sniffing.
Daisy was exhausted after all that excitement. We headed back inside for a nap. I was glad that she made a new friend, but I don't think Mocha's owner is going to be bringing him to services again anytime soon. Maybe the Lutherans have singles night for dogs...
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Mark
We spent last weekend in Ogunquit (one of my favorite places within a few hour's drive of here). Mark was our waiter at a relatively nice restaurant Saturday night. He was the aging hippie type. Thin, longish hair, late 40's. Slight southern drawn (maybe South Carolina-ish). He was both waiting on us and tending bar at the same time, although he didn't really seem to have the attention span to be doing both.
When delivering our shrimp cocktail:
Awww man... Those are AWESOME. I ate like 12 of them this morning when I was doing my prep work.
While dropping off Jen's dish (vegetarian ravioli):
Awww man... That's my FAVORITE. I get that all the time here.
It wasn't until we were walking out and I actually looked him right in the eye that I noticed how bloodshot his eyes were. But it totally explained why everything we were ordering sounded so good to him. Whoa.
We spent last weekend in Ogunquit (one of my favorite places within a few hour's drive of here). Mark was our waiter at a relatively nice restaurant Saturday night. He was the aging hippie type. Thin, longish hair, late 40's. Slight southern drawn (maybe South Carolina-ish). He was both waiting on us and tending bar at the same time, although he didn't really seem to have the attention span to be doing both.
When delivering our shrimp cocktail:
Awww man... Those are AWESOME. I ate like 12 of them this morning when I was doing my prep work.
While dropping off Jen's dish (vegetarian ravioli):
Awww man... That's my FAVORITE. I get that all the time here.
It wasn't until we were walking out and I actually looked him right in the eye that I noticed how bloodshot his eyes were. But it totally explained why everything we were ordering sounded so good to him. Whoa.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Stonewall Kitchen
Jen found the company store in York, ME over the weekend.
Wow.
It's worth the trip just for the samples.
I've never been crazy about jam in my whole life. But man... The stuff they had out for sampling was amazing. I ended up buying two jars.
I highly recommend the red raspberry and wild Maine blueberry.
There's no chemical or processed taste to this stuff. Just an amazing real fruit taste that pops in your mouth. I couldn't stop babbling about it all afternoon. I'm sure I drove Jen crazy.
Jen found the company store in York, ME over the weekend.
Wow.
It's worth the trip just for the samples.
I've never been crazy about jam in my whole life. But man... The stuff they had out for sampling was amazing. I ended up buying two jars.
I highly recommend the red raspberry and wild Maine blueberry.
There's no chemical or processed taste to this stuff. Just an amazing real fruit taste that pops in your mouth. I couldn't stop babbling about it all afternoon. I'm sure I drove Jen crazy.
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