Food's been somewhat of a bore chez nous. Nutritious and satisfying, but honestly, another photo of minestrone?
I have something I'm dying to write about, but it's warm-weather eating. These days, we're hunkered down in puffy coats, not particularly interested in a confection from the freezer. So that'll have to wait.
Ah, but. I always have my other preoccupation. The puppy.
She has been growing and maturing, and bit by bit, I find my equilibrium returning. We've spent nearly seven months training the demons out of this doggie! She was never evil by nature, but she was always jumpy and feisty and chewy and jumpy. Not really barky; we were lucky. But we had to teach her how not to run herself into a helpless frenzy. How not to eat every stick in the yard. How not to stand on our chests, with those sharp, hard little paws digging into our ribs, while she looked imploringly into our eyes. I'd ask her, What Do You Want? I will do whatever you want. Tell me, please.
But little puppies find it hard to talk with humans. Sometimes a jab in the chest means "poop" and sometimes it means "I don't frigging know; I'm a puppy."
Well, things are coming along. Today I found myself saying, "This is the dog I want." I feel that she has developed and learned, and she's a fine dog, indeed. Maybe not finished yet, but doing very well.
Suddenly, jeepers! I thought: "She's not wiggling! She's holding still! I can take a picture!"