At loose ends
Yesterday was a mass of activity, primarily because I frittered away most of my free time this week playing Rock Band 2. Since I was having people over yesterday afternoon, I only had the morning to try to make the house presentable.
My initial focus was on beating the lawn jungle behind the house into submission, lest anyone see my not at all suburban approved "lawn" through a window. I decided to ignore the front yard completely, mostly because the weeds masquerading as a lawn there are much shorter. Meanwhile, B. was wielding the magic vacuum wand inside the house to remove as many traces of Ding hair as possible.
About an hour before folks were scheduled to arrive, I dropped Ding off at the vet to board for the weekend. It's been a (long) while since I last boarded Ding there, electing instead to have someone come stay with him when I'm away. That didn't seem like an option, considering that instead of me leaving, I was merely inviting 20 or so people to arrive for a meeting. As I didn't want my attention diverted from the meeting by trying to keep Ding out of everyone's hair (and Ding away from those who have delightful allergies to consider), I decided to board him.
This marked the first time that I left Ding at the vet that he tried to leave with me, rather than go with whomever was leading him on the leash. *sigh* I've been preoccupied since with wondering if he's all right, and wondering if I perhaps rely too much on having him around. Since he is coming up on 12 years old this January, that may not be a good thing.
Evidently, I was talking a lot in my sleep last night about being worried about Ding. I had a bit of a dream about him too, but I don't remember it nearly as much as the other dream about going to a play, being called up to participate in a scene but not being able to do so as I was trying to escape from a fellow playgoer who I'd reported for shoplifting and who was now trying to kill me. It turned out I wasn't her first target. She'd dismembered many people before and had neatly organized all their body parts in various refrigerator drawers - all the left feet in this one, hands in that one, and so on. I thought I'd be able to get away from her if I could get to my car, but then everyone else was looking for their cars as well, and I couldn't remember where I'd parked. An elderly gentleman offered to drive me around to find my car, and I got out when I thought I'd spotted it. There was more panicking when I realized the car I'd thought was mine wasn't, but I was fortunate to wake up before I found out if the shoplifting murderer was going to find me and kill me.
Last night, B. & I made sushi (yellow tail & salmon), which I'm pleased to say turned out quite well, though we both need more practice to get our rolls tighter. It was odd not having Ding around to beg for food, eat it when we weren't looking, or to clean up anything that was dropped.
My initial focus was on beating the lawn jungle behind the house into submission, lest anyone see my not at all suburban approved "lawn" through a window. I decided to ignore the front yard completely, mostly because the weeds masquerading as a lawn there are much shorter. Meanwhile, B. was wielding the magic vacuum wand inside the house to remove as many traces of Ding hair as possible.
About an hour before folks were scheduled to arrive, I dropped Ding off at the vet to board for the weekend. It's been a (long) while since I last boarded Ding there, electing instead to have someone come stay with him when I'm away. That didn't seem like an option, considering that instead of me leaving, I was merely inviting 20 or so people to arrive for a meeting. As I didn't want my attention diverted from the meeting by trying to keep Ding out of everyone's hair (and Ding away from those who have delightful allergies to consider), I decided to board him.
This marked the first time that I left Ding at the vet that he tried to leave with me, rather than go with whomever was leading him on the leash. *sigh* I've been preoccupied since with wondering if he's all right, and wondering if I perhaps rely too much on having him around. Since he is coming up on 12 years old this January, that may not be a good thing.
Evidently, I was talking a lot in my sleep last night about being worried about Ding. I had a bit of a dream about him too, but I don't remember it nearly as much as the other dream about going to a play, being called up to participate in a scene but not being able to do so as I was trying to escape from a fellow playgoer who I'd reported for shoplifting and who was now trying to kill me. It turned out I wasn't her first target. She'd dismembered many people before and had neatly organized all their body parts in various refrigerator drawers - all the left feet in this one, hands in that one, and so on. I thought I'd be able to get away from her if I could get to my car, but then everyone else was looking for their cars as well, and I couldn't remember where I'd parked. An elderly gentleman offered to drive me around to find my car, and I got out when I thought I'd spotted it. There was more panicking when I realized the car I'd thought was mine wasn't, but I was fortunate to wake up before I found out if the shoplifting murderer was going to find me and kill me.
Last night, B. & I made sushi (yellow tail & salmon), which I'm pleased to say turned out quite well, though we both need more practice to get our rolls tighter. It was odd not having Ding around to beg for food, eat it when we weren't looking, or to clean up anything that was dropped.