Peanut butter. Oatmeal. Eggs. Flour. Sugar. The beginning of cookies. And I confess I was looking forward to them. Until Beloved added fresh parsley, mint and some chicken stock. At that point I no longer wanted his cookies. Which was fine with him because they weren’t for me, they were for the four-footed one.
He promised me chocolate raspberry sandwich cookies. Just not today. He also planned on making butter cookies. Again not today. Today was cookies for the dog and scones. The scones, he assured me, were for us.
When he had finished making his creations the kitchen was nice and warm and smelled interesting. The four-footed one decided to stay in the kitchen to find the source of the smell. She was willing o accept a scone, but the cookies he made for her were clearly what she wanted. And she wanted them now. Waiting for them to cool was apparently akin to absolute torture and was down under great protest.
If I had to wait for the scones to cool completely I might have felt the same as she did. But I managed to get a warm scone with Devonshire cream and some fresh strawberries. Beloved managed to find a way to squeeze some scone in with his Devonshire cream. He even managed a few slices of strawberry. To him a scone is simply the means of conveying the cream into his mouth. Only because I frowned at him when he ate it in a spoon. Straight out of the jar.
Once her cookies were cooled the four-footed one happily munched away, the wait all but forgotten. They smelled of nothing but peanut butter. And since she’d gladly eat peanut butter right out of the job jar they were obviously a hit with her. Just as Beloved used the scone as a means to eat the cream, the dog used the cookies as a means of eating peanut butter.
I will wait, somewhat impatiently for my cookies. They’d better be coming soon or I shall have to remind Beloved of his promise. And I may remind him the sandwiches cookies require cream! 😉
The four-footed one decided to help with yard work today. Not all of what was being done, just the things st struck her fancy. Such as raking the leaves. And pulling up of plants.
She started by running around and playing with her ball. She ignored the work being done as well as the workers. It wasn’t until the plants were being pulled up that she became interested. I think it was the noises Beloved was making at first that caught her attention. The smells of freshly uprooted plants probably kept her attention. And watching the dirt fall, the worms wiggle and such had her fully immersed in wanting to help. And by help I mean she wanted to jump into the holes that were made. She also was interested in help move the plants. She happily grabbed them to drag throughout the yard.
She was having a ball with this, until she discovered raked leaves. In a pile. Waiting to be picked up. A pile that cannot be ignored. A pile that must be investigated and rolled through. A pile that could not be picked up fast enough to avoid being spread back all over the ground.
With each stroke of the rake to gather up the spread leaves, she would go back through those leaves. Tossing some of them up in the air, letting others get caught in her fur. Suddenly raking was taking three times as long and frankly I was wondering if there would be an end in sight. There was, when she grew tired and decided to curl up in the weak sunshine and have a nap.
She slept through the rest of the raking and pulling. She slept through the bags being tied and placed by the bin. She slept through the putting away of shovels and rakes. She woke up when all the boring work was done, ready to go in and have a treat. Because yard work is hard work.
The leaves were dancing on the cool wind today. And so the four-footed one went dancing as well. Dancing after the leaves and perhaps as an effort to stay warm in the wind. I was along for the ride so to speak.
It was a complicated dance, changing pace and movements rapidly almost on a whim. The four-footed one seemed to understand the intricate steps as if she had been an understudy just waiting for the moment to step into the light. And in her moment in the light, she danced with passion and wild abandonment. To be honest I was a bit jealous of her, just a bit because I was also tired from the journey.
And like all individuals caught up in a passion, the four-footed one could not be denied her time. Nor the duration of the dance. She stopped only when the dance was finished or in our case the wind stopped dancing with the leaves. And when that moment came, the four-footed one sat down to rest. And refused to move another step, leaving me with two options: drag her home or carry her.
Obviously I carried her home, even though I was tired enough that I wondered what would take less energy.
My mama always insisted I make my bed once I woke up. She was deaf to the logic I applied, one that went something like this: why make it just to take it apart hours later to go to bed. The only time my mama allowed me to leave my bed unmade was if I were sick.
To this day, unless I am very sick, I make my bed once I get up. Beloved was raised them same way, only his Mama insisted his bed tucked in tight so a coin could be bounced off it.
No matter how hard we try, the four-footed one doesn’t seem to want to leave her beds nice and neat. I just spent the last half hour putting dog bed mattresses back into the beds, straightening blankets and such. Not because she has that many beds, but because once one bed was tidied up and I moved to the next, she tore the tided bed apart.
She grabbed one of her mattresses and decided to pull it into the bathroom. As if to say she might need to crash there at some time! It isn’t so much I want her to make her beds, but I’d like to not have to retrieve mattresses and such from various parts of the house.
The other day Belved found her mattress with his shoes. She carried it down five stairs and through a narrow doorway. Just to place it on his shoes. When he went to put it back she pounced on it and refused to let him remove it. (He was able to move it a few hours later, by that time she had another mattress somewhere else.)
And here is the kicker, she rarely sleeps or naps in her beds! Yep they become play things. Because she has our bed, and when she needs to nap there is either a welcoming lap or some feet to curl up on. Because she’s, well,our four-footed one!
Today: Squash, Pumpkin the sign proclaimed as the car drove by the neatly lettered black sign with a cheerfully sketched pumpkin at bottom. A nice drive out in the country is what Beloved had in mind so we were on some back roads enjoying the sights and sounds of the rural areas.
We weren’t in a hurry and no specific destination in mind when we set out. We simply gathered up items and the four-footed one and headed out to the car. Beloved opted to drive and I was content to simply belong for the ride.
We stopped to let the four-footed one stretch all four of her legs. We stopped for Beloved to take pictures of the landscape. We stopped to listen to the cows and horses in the fields. We stopped when a small animal darted across the road in front of us. And we stopped to visit the squash and pumpkins.
Actually we initially stopped because Beloved was in the midst of being awestruck by the landscape, scenery and red barn that was just off to the left of the road. He had just started to drive on when he noticed the sign and decided we should stop for squash and pumpkin. Although to be honest part of me suspects he wanted to tell the people squash and pumpkin is all the same.
We slowly drive up a long, gravel and mud filled drive, past some goats and a few cows. We stopped at bit back from a shed of some type and Beloved clipped the four-footed one onto her leash. He reasoned that she needed to stretch again and what dog wouldn’t want to check out a farm.
After a tea with the lovely older couple who own the farm, three types of squash and two small pumpkins we headed for home. The four-footed one did not enjoy the farm as per say because like myself she is a city being. She is, however, fascinated with the produce we brought home. And while I rest up from today’s little trip, Beloved is eyeballs deep in recipes to try with his “lovely” find!
The four-footed one decided she shouldn’t have to get out of bed this morning. I get it. Other than food, a walk and play time she has nothing pressing to do. And let’s face it, those of use who have more added to our lives also have moments where we just want to stay in bed.
Unfortunately for the four-footed one she had to get up and get going because her humans needed to get going. It didn’t mean she had to like it, it didn’t mean she couldn’t protest, but it did mean she had to get started with her morning.
Normally the four-footed one wakes up happy and ready to start her day so naturally we assume something was a little off for her. Turns out she had no desire to walk through horrible weather. It was blustery and chilly early in the morning. Ah yes, nice warm bed versus cold wind in your face. What would you decide?!
To be fair, Beloved took her for a walk this morning because he wind and cold was too much for my own body this morning. I had warned Beloved, long before the weather people did that the weather was changing. He doubted me. But when he came back from his walk he said he didn’t know why he doubted me.
Of course me handing him a warm coffee may have had something to do with that too! And the four-footed one spent the afternoon resting on the bed, beside me. Because by noon I could no longer handle the over-the-counter pain meds for my pain. And I was tired. Chronic pain can be exhausting and tiring. And if a cute four-footed creature wants to curl up beside you, all the bettering!
Beloved was head down into research on Martin Luther when the four-footed one decided to lash him with her monkey. Actually it was probably more a case of he got in her path of playing even though he was stationary on a chair. The monkey is long and flat. The four-footed one adores running and flinging this monkey throughout the house. She also enjoys whipping it around side to side and woe be those in her path.
Beloved abandoned his research, even though he was appropriately at a part of research where Luther physically punishes himself to relieve the guilt, to be a good person, to chase the four-footed one and the monkey. Because sometimes there is a monkey that must be chased or thrown around for a little while.
If you were to ask the four-footed this should happen regularly and research should be given to just bits of time here and there. The four-footed one believes we do not have enough play time in our lives and so she attempts to create a balance, at least in her mind, between work and play time. The fact that play time should be at least two-thirds of the time versus sleep, work and eat time makes no difference to her. I isn’t her fault, it’s in her nature. And since we share life with her, it fills into our lives and slowly becomes a part of our nature to some degree.