Husband is gone for the duration. Saving lives, solving problems, hopefully not reading this.
Me. I’m enjoying a nice summery beverage.
Straight out of the bottle while standing at the kitchen sink in case I gag. Bad reflex when one is not use to drinking. I use to drink. Pretty pink and soft snowy colored drinks with fruit. Dressed up with girlfriends, going out,dancing, pretty, flirty.
See what happens when you have kids! You are reduced to slugging booze over the kitchen sink. Effects the same though.
I in turn have learned to bark. So between his English and my barking we’ve pretty much got the dictionary covered.
It turns out Cujo greatly resents my keeping an organic kitchen, and frankly I can’t seem to remember why I do either.
I don’t really care about cows. I’d eat most any animal if it’s seared properly and has a nice char.
Cujo would be yummy I bet.
Americans, we don’t eat dogs or cats.
It’s a cultural thing.
In the Asiatic countries people eat all sorts of
crap delectable yummies. Monkeys, dogs (including border collies) bats, snakes.
I’m certain if Taco Bell made a Border Collie Burrito we’d all be chowing down no problemo.
Where my little buddy Cujo go?
Cujo, here Cujo.
Cujo actually goes in and out of the house through the opening in the screen at the door.
Alas, since last evening he has lost all ability to speak..and won’t come near me.
I’m sure in a few weeks he’ll get over it.
This is gmom,