My kids are home from homeschool co-op; they started laundry and now they have taken the baby upstairs and are entertaining her. I have GREAT kids.
Doug is out getting groceries. I have a GREAT husband.
I hit my freelancing quota miraculously early, which means I don’t have to work this weekend for the first time in several months.
There is a dog on the arm of my chair.
There are three more dogs on my feet.
The older girls and I have entered into a “farmgirl pact” – we’re going to raise chickens and sell eggs, and next year we’re going to do a real vegetable garden again for the first year since the fire. I am currently nestled in front of the pellet stove, looking at seed catalogs.
Doug and I have blasted through all the Inspector Lewis episodes and are on to Wallander. We are taking time every night to sit on the couch together for 42 minutes.
We dropped a few activities in our lives that had stopped feeding us and started feeding OFF us; deep breaths.
Sorry for the hideous photo quality – camera phone was the only one I had on hand.
Harper has been here for a week, and just went home a few minutes ago. In my list of things to do this week, beside the entries for “answer all my e-mails” and “respond to Facebook messages,” was “go have photo shoot with Harper.” However, if you haven’t noticed because all my blog posts have been like seven words long, this week has been pretty craptastic and I’m honestly just glad to be at the end of it. Harper, however, is always a bright spot.
She went home the way she always does – skinny and exhausted. The former is because she is not used to having to competition – we feed the dogs separately, but there’s no way she can do what she would like, which is snack on her supper and come back for more – and because she runs 20 hours a day with my pack of hooligans. The latter is because of the running and also because of THE KITTEHS.
The kittens have tag-teamed to make her life a hell this week; she wishes to chew on them and they desire not to be chewed on. However, they desire in the following way – by rubbing all over her and then leaping over the baby gate and laughing at her from the other side. When she falls asleep on the couch they both jump up and start licking her, and when she moves they swat her ears and bite her eyes. Poor Harper ends up having a fit at the end of the sofa, impotently chewing on the blanket and howling while they gaze calmly at her and lick their lips.
After ten days, I sent back a puppy who eats at the speed of lightning (sorry, Dave; she’ll pretty much take your arm off at this point) and who has been completely beaten into submission by evil kittens. In this photo Percy had shoved her leg over and was fast asleep after sucking on her paw for a while; she didn’t dare to move, but kept darting desperate glances at me.
And then gave up, accepted her completely pwned life, and fell asleep.