Written last night:
Dear Friends,
This morning Zing walked behind me, not prancing ahead as he usually does. He was slower, and I can only assume that his tail was still wagging. By the time we got home and had coffee, I was worried that Zing was dying.
I do let him nose in the bushes sometimes, because I think he misses sniffing along trails in the North Florida woods. Maybe he ate some poisonous old thing. Or maybe I rolled over on him in the night, snuffing out his oxygen.
By the time we got back home he was lethargic, just lying on the carpet — not even going to his favorite pillow. I tried not to panic — Clark would have calmed me down — and I waited until noon or so. Finally Zing perked up and we went for a second walk. He seems to be OK tonight. Maybe he just had a little bug. I heard him sneeze once.
Today I was going to get us started on the Clonidine anti-anxiety routine, but I put it off until tomorrow. These things are more complicated than they sound.
I learned that I love having Zing around. The idea of being without him was pretty bleak. Yes, he’s trouble! But I guess that doesn’t matter.
Love,
k
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 27, 2017
Weekend: Lost and Lovely. (Care to join the Anti-cooperation League?)
Friday, Feb. 24, 2017
Dear Friends,
I got a cheery 5:30 a.m. (8:30 EST) call reminding me of an upcoming doctor’s appointment in Tallahassee. That one fell through the cracks;I should have canceled before. Oh, well, I like to get up at 6 anyway.
I first thought it was Jennifer, who had planned to call at 8, my time. In the dark stupor of sleep, iI wondered if she meant 8 her time. This is the way it is when you take a giant step west.
Thanks to Jennifer, several friends joined for a FaceTime get-together. That is exciting -- being able to connect from over here, across the continent.
Then Zing and I went for a long walk (it was sunny, finally) to check out development on R Street (bars, restaurants, lofts — in buildings old and new. One house that’s still occupied dates to 1910.
We also did a little shopping. I made a wrong turn, but was able to nose along the back streets and get where I was heading anyway. I’m learning.
And what do you think of the Washington Post’s new slogan: Democracy Dies in Darkness — ? My journalist friend Eve likes it, and I hate it. On Facebook Noreen asked why. Here’s what I think:
While I certainly agree with the statement, it sounds like it was written by a committee. It lacks conviction, It doesn't even sound sincere. It's coming from negativity, and it sounds like SOS before the ship goes down. I want the press to lead, not despair.
Eve is an editor on Florida’s East coast. Here’s her link:
On that note, have a great weekend!
Saturday, Feb. 25, 2017
It's barely 9 p.m. and I'm ready for sleep already.
Just came in from final walk with Zing, and there were two fire trucks at the complex next door. Zing and I walked right past — calmly strolling by that awful flashing light.
Earlier today, we walked around the Arena.
Got lost going to Walmart.
Ended up at Land Park, and Zing whimpered. So I pulled to the curb and we walked around Fairyland, which was just waking up. Fathers and their kids. Moms and Grandparents. When we returned to the car, a man asked if it was OK to park there, since there are no parking meters. “Yes, I park here all the time,” I told him confidently.
I didn’t tell him I only ended up there because I was lost.
Later, on Third Street, near our condo, Zing and I walked past a couple of restaurants, and everyone seemed to be looking out the window at Zing. When I finally realized this was happening, I smiled at the diners, and they waved back. Zing doesn’t have to do anything — he simply charms people from the sidewalk.
I’m organizing the studio. Finally. The last step toward making a new home.
Just came in from final walk with Zing, and there were two fire trucks at the complex next door. Zing and I walked right past — calmly strolling by that awful flashing light.
Earlier today, we walked around the Arena.
Got lost going to Walmart.
Ended up at Land Park, and Zing whimpered. So I pulled to the curb and we walked around Fairyland, which was just waking up. Fathers and their kids. Moms and Grandparents. When we returned to the car, a man asked if it was OK to park there, since there are no parking meters. “Yes, I park here all the time,” I told him confidently.
I didn’t tell him I only ended up there because I was lost.
Later, on Third Street, near our condo, Zing and I walked past a couple of restaurants, and everyone seemed to be looking out the window at Zing. When I finally realized this was happening, I smiled at the diners, and they waved back. Zing doesn’t have to do anything — he simply charms people from the sidewalk.
I’m organizing the studio. Finally. The last step toward making a new home.
No wonder I’m tired.
Sunday, Feb. 26, 2017
Nothing much happened today. I took Zing to Grateful Dog — waiting for when I can leave him alone on a quiet Sunday morning! I went to Mass — lucky to be close to a church that is very much in the open spirit of St. Francis. I do not like the Church’s authoritarian and paternalistic history (among other things!), so I skim off the comfort and peace.
Then, at the farmers’ market under the freeway — the one that doesn’t admit dogs — I bought oranges. I told the guy that I’d gotten rotten oranges (squishy and black, deep in the bag from Safeway) “You’ll be back for more next week!” he promised. “We harvest them ripe from the tree. Supermarkets don’t do that.” Tomorrow at breakfast we will see. I love the taste of a ripe orange, and they are decorating trees along the streets here now. Must be the season.
Then, with Zing back, I took a nap on the purple couch, organized my studio some more, ate pasta with butter and cheese. Now I’m going to read the history of the world.
Love,
k
 |
| We passed the Anti-Cooperation League |
Feb 24, 2017
Zing, the dog who smiles
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Today was for Zing. We spent the afternoon in Davis -- with Dr. Karen at UC Veterinary School. This is the third or fourth time I’ve driven there (down there? up there? still not sure!) Oh, down — 20 minutes southwest of Sacramento. I was going to say I feel like I know Davis now, but obviously I’m still learning. I’m glad my friend Susan the terrier-lover suggested (gently) that I see UC vets before putting a citronella collar on Zing.
They (Dr. Karen and two student-observers, who were madly taking notes) asked me what I hoped to get out of the visit.
“Put a spell on Zing,” I begged. “And maybe on me too.”
I just want this anxiety barking thing to stop. I want to be free and easy again. I even said that I come first: I want to be able to leave the house without Zing barking anxiously. I’m not so sure what they thought of that. After all, their priority is Zing. But Zing understands.
Here’s what Dr. Karen said — and I double-checked it with her before we left:
“Separation anxiety is a dog welfare issue,” she said. “I have two concerns here. First, I want Zing to not have the anxiety at all. Second, I want him to be less anxious along the way to getting well.”
I told her I hate Clonidine, because I think such drugs can be bad for people and therefore also for dogs, and because it makes Zing a less energetic person — I mean dog — it dulls his personality. I said a citronella collar sounds less nasty than drugs. Dr. Karen told me Clonidine doesn’t hurt in the doses she’s prescribing — not even if we use it every day, which she kind of recommended. She said I should use it more so Zing will get used to being home alone. The idea is that after a while he is weaned off the drug.
She also said research shows that while citronella probably will stop the barking, through discomfort and fear, it will most likely increase Zing’s anxiety when I leave.
There’s more, but this is enough for one day!
Of course, while we were there Zing charmed everyone. Dr. Karen even video-ed him because she said she’d never seen a dog smile before. So he smiled at her, and she said “Perfect!”
Love,
k
Dear Friends,
Today was for Zing. We spent the afternoon in Davis -- with Dr. Karen at UC Veterinary School. This is the third or fourth time I’ve driven there (down there? up there? still not sure!) Oh, down — 20 minutes southwest of Sacramento. I was going to say I feel like I know Davis now, but obviously I’m still learning. I’m glad my friend Susan the terrier-lover suggested (gently) that I see UC vets before putting a citronella collar on Zing.
They (Dr. Karen and two student-observers, who were madly taking notes) asked me what I hoped to get out of the visit.
“Put a spell on Zing,” I begged. “And maybe on me too.”
I just want this anxiety barking thing to stop. I want to be free and easy again. I even said that I come first: I want to be able to leave the house without Zing barking anxiously. I’m not so sure what they thought of that. After all, their priority is Zing. But Zing understands.
Here’s what Dr. Karen said — and I double-checked it with her before we left:
“Separation anxiety is a dog welfare issue,” she said. “I have two concerns here. First, I want Zing to not have the anxiety at all. Second, I want him to be less anxious along the way to getting well.”
I told her I hate Clonidine, because I think such drugs can be bad for people and therefore also for dogs, and because it makes Zing a less energetic person — I mean dog — it dulls his personality. I said a citronella collar sounds less nasty than drugs. Dr. Karen told me Clonidine doesn’t hurt in the doses she’s prescribing — not even if we use it every day, which she kind of recommended. She said I should use it more so Zing will get used to being home alone. The idea is that after a while he is weaned off the drug.
She also said research shows that while citronella probably will stop the barking, through discomfort and fear, it will most likely increase Zing’s anxiety when I leave.
There’s more, but this is enough for one day!
Of course, while we were there Zing charmed everyone. Dr. Karen even video-ed him because she said she’d never seen a dog smile before. So he smiled at her, and she said “Perfect!”
Love,
k
 |
| Zing on the day Clark and I took him home |
Feb 22, 2017
Chocolate pots de crème and more
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
The stars are in alignment, and today I saw Patrick and Steph at lunch and Keith and Judy for dinner. I love being with them. Lots of catching up.
Before that, I spent a couple hours writing short business letters. Each started long; the work was to make them short. For those dog lovers among you, I’m including the letter to the UC vet concerning Zing. More interesting will be Dr. Karen’s response.
Also, I made a richly repeatable dessert, chocolate pots de creme (recipe below). Keith and Judy brought Thai food from The Coconut, and I was not quite sure what would go with it. Fruit, I’m afraid. So I sliced a couple of oranges and served them on a blue plate. But then, chocolate is always right. We each finished the chocolate, and left the oranges.
Love,
k
Here’s the Zing letter:
Dear Karen,
Zing and I need a recalibration. We’ve followed your regimen and now we’re at a plateau.
We’ve been in Sacramento 6 months, and I’m ready to have a normal life, but Zing is still anxious when he is home alone.
Without Clonidine he whines and barks, but not frantically, after 5 minutes alone. He was up to about 10 minutes, but it’s been less since I left him at Grateful Dog when I visited Miami. With Clonidine, he’s pretty quiet the first hour, then there’s an occasional bark or whimper. At 2 hours, barks increase. The “training” of leaving him for gradually longer times is now a game. No treat occupies him more than 5 minutes. I’ve tried them all! It takes a lot of time -- preparing the food in cardboard rolls, doing the activity, listening to the audio — not to mention the interruption of whatever routines we have developed. The training has become our routine, and it doesn’t seem to be working anymore. Being together all the time might even reinforce our mutual dependence.
Zing is fine alone in the car as I do errands, but soon it will be too hot. We walk 2 miles a day and go to the dog park on Sunday. He goes to Grateful Dog happily; he is known as a barker there, but at home he rarely barks under normal circumstances. He seems happy and makes many friends on our walks.
To give us more flexibility, what about a citronella collar? It might stop the barking and hopefully the anxiety will seep away gradually. I wanted to check with you before trying it. Maybe you have some other idea.
Thanks!
Kathleen
Chocolate Pots de Crème
Epicurious
2 C. whipping cream
1/2 C. whole milk
5 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped (I used Ghirardelli premium semisweet.)
6 large egg yolks
1/3 C. sugar
Preheat oven to 325°. Bring cream and milk just to simmer in heavy medium saucepan over medium heat. Remove from heat. Add chocolate; whisk until melted and smooth. Whisk yolks and sugar in large bowl to blend. Gradually whisk in hot chocolate mixture. Strain mixture into another bowl. (I skipped this part and nothing bad happened.) Cool 10 minutes, skimming any foam from surface. (Missed this step.)
Divide mixture among six 3/4 C. custard cups or soufflé dishes. Place cups in large baking pan. Cover with foil. Add enough hot water to pan to come halfway up sides of cups. Bake until custards are set but centers still move slightly when gently shaken, about 55 minutes. (Mine took less -- start checking at 45 minutes.) Remove from water. Remove foil. Chill at least three hours.
I only had 3 small cups so I poured the remaining custard into a small casserole. It took a little longer to cook.
I topped these with just a dab of sweetened whipped cream. Comments on Epicurious say they are too rich to finish even one. NOT TRUE.
Dear Friends,
The stars are in alignment, and today I saw Patrick and Steph at lunch and Keith and Judy for dinner. I love being with them. Lots of catching up.
Before that, I spent a couple hours writing short business letters. Each started long; the work was to make them short. For those dog lovers among you, I’m including the letter to the UC vet concerning Zing. More interesting will be Dr. Karen’s response.
Also, I made a richly repeatable dessert, chocolate pots de creme (recipe below). Keith and Judy brought Thai food from The Coconut, and I was not quite sure what would go with it. Fruit, I’m afraid. So I sliced a couple of oranges and served them on a blue plate. But then, chocolate is always right. We each finished the chocolate, and left the oranges.
Love,
k
Here’s the Zing letter:
Dear Karen,
Zing and I need a recalibration. We’ve followed your regimen and now we’re at a plateau.
We’ve been in Sacramento 6 months, and I’m ready to have a normal life, but Zing is still anxious when he is home alone.
Without Clonidine he whines and barks, but not frantically, after 5 minutes alone. He was up to about 10 minutes, but it’s been less since I left him at Grateful Dog when I visited Miami. With Clonidine, he’s pretty quiet the first hour, then there’s an occasional bark or whimper. At 2 hours, barks increase. The “training” of leaving him for gradually longer times is now a game. No treat occupies him more than 5 minutes. I’ve tried them all! It takes a lot of time -- preparing the food in cardboard rolls, doing the activity, listening to the audio — not to mention the interruption of whatever routines we have developed. The training has become our routine, and it doesn’t seem to be working anymore. Being together all the time might even reinforce our mutual dependence.
Zing is fine alone in the car as I do errands, but soon it will be too hot. We walk 2 miles a day and go to the dog park on Sunday. He goes to Grateful Dog happily; he is known as a barker there, but at home he rarely barks under normal circumstances. He seems happy and makes many friends on our walks.
To give us more flexibility, what about a citronella collar? It might stop the barking and hopefully the anxiety will seep away gradually. I wanted to check with you before trying it. Maybe you have some other idea.
Thanks!
Kathleen
Chocolate Pots de Crème
Epicurious
2 C. whipping cream
1/2 C. whole milk
5 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped (I used Ghirardelli premium semisweet.)
6 large egg yolks
1/3 C. sugar
Preheat oven to 325°. Bring cream and milk just to simmer in heavy medium saucepan over medium heat. Remove from heat. Add chocolate; whisk until melted and smooth. Whisk yolks and sugar in large bowl to blend. Gradually whisk in hot chocolate mixture. Strain mixture into another bowl. (I skipped this part and nothing bad happened.) Cool 10 minutes, skimming any foam from surface. (Missed this step.)
Divide mixture among six 3/4 C. custard cups or soufflé dishes. Place cups in large baking pan. Cover with foil. Add enough hot water to pan to come halfway up sides of cups. Bake until custards are set but centers still move slightly when gently shaken, about 55 minutes. (Mine took less -- start checking at 45 minutes.) Remove from water. Remove foil. Chill at least three hours.
I only had 3 small cups so I poured the remaining custard into a small casserole. It took a little longer to cook.
I topped these with just a dab of sweetened whipped cream. Comments on Epicurious say they are too rich to finish even one. NOT TRUE.
Gray-day magic
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Dear Friends,
It was gloomy here today, with storm warnings coming from SMUD, the terribly-named municipal electric company: what to do when the power goes out. So far it is not, but thanks to Clark I am well-equipped with flashlights, batteries, and a hand-cranked can opener.
I relaxed like I usually do on Sunday, but with a nagging awareness that it really is Monday — the day to catch up on bills and papers and other anxiety-producing chores. Oddly, I discovered that when I relax I get more done, and I accomplished Monday things in a Sunday relaxation mode. I kind of doubt this will happen again; it was gray-day magic on a government holiday.
Love,
k
Feb 20, 2017
Weekend report and rice pudding
Written over the weekend:
Saturday:
Dear Friends,
Today was full of phone calls and grocery shopping and cooking. I’m tweaking the beef burgundy recipe. Friends (Mary Kaye, who I met in the art quilt group, and her husband Leigh) are coming to dinner, but first we’re seeing a movie at the Tower Theater — a Sacramento landmark.
Yesterday I looked Clark’s photo straight in the eye, which I haven’t done since he died. He looked back at me and smiled. I think he motivated me to do this dinner thing. We used to have friends to dinner often. I even tried on a dress! (Not that I’ll be wearing it.)
I hope you are also having fun.
Oh, and I left Zing by himself for 5 minutes, with just one tiny bark.
Love,
k
Sunday:
Dear Friends,
Today was busy, in a relaxed way. Zing was at Grateful Dog while I went with friends to a movie (The Red Turtle — animation with absolutely no words, just music and nature sounds. Different for these days that are so full of words.) and then we talked, had dinner and talked more. I “improved” the Beef Bourguignon with less wine, a different brand of bacon, and shredding the beef at the end. But the star was rice pudding perfect comfort food. The whole thing was delightful. As Mary Kaye said, it’s kind of rejuvenating to make new friends at this stage of life.
Just now as Zing and I walked, we turned the corner at 7th and N and heard a crash directly behind us. I turned and saw a red car swirling in the intersection. Then it stopped and a man got out yelling and waving his arms. A man got out of the other car. I think one of them ran the red light. No one seemed hurt. The police arrived almost immediately.
And the streets were empty. Just those two cars.
Love!
k
Rice pudding
from the Columbus Dispatch ages ago
(from Louis Pappas' Famous Greek Recipes)
1/2 C. uncooked rice
1 quart milk
1/2 C. sugar**
1 tsp. vanilla
1 T. cornstarch
1 egg yolk, beaten
1 T. butter
grated rind of one lemon (This is my addition -- not in the original recipe -- and you could also add
orange rind.)
cinnamon
Cook rice in 1 C. boiling water 10 minutes or until water is absorbed. (Don't cook too fast, as I did recently. Then the rice grains are a little too hard all the way through.) Add milk.* Return to boil, cooking gently over reduced heat for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add sugar** and vanilla and lemon rind. Dissolve cornstarch in 1 tsp. (or more, if needed) water and add to rice mixture. Cook 10 minutes, stirring often; remove from heat.
Add 1 C. of hot rice mixture to egg yolk, then return to pan. Add butter (I skipped the butter.) Cook, stirring often, until mixture coats a wooden spoon. Pour into a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and cool. Then refrigerate. Before serving, sprinkle with cinnamon.
* I was short 1/2 cup of milk, so I added 1/4 C. heavy cream and 1/4 C. water. I think this made it extra creamy this time.
** I usually taste it and add a little more sugar at the end.
Feb 18, 2017
That turquoise bond
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Dear Friends,
Remember Darrius, the woman wearing the party dress and the crown? One night a while ago she got off the elevator and bonded with Zing immediately. Well, tonight, Zing and I were heading out for our final walk and we ran into a woman coming back from the trash chute; she was wearing red flannel Mickey Mouse pajamas: Darrius.
Of course she fell to immediately petting Zing, and then she invited us to see her apartment. It’s cozy and crazy and fun, with a giant dog sculpture and bright woven rugs and a grand piano by the window. “It keeps me sane,” she said. Her golden cat has a cardboard house with a carpeted yard.(Zing wants one.) We have a lot in common … she grew up near Tallahassee, etc., etc. But the thing I wanted to tell you is that as I was leaving, she went to the hall table and picked up this fine turquoise purse, which she handed to me. “I’ve been wanting to give you this,” she said. “Remember, you told me turquoise is your favorite color?” Yes, I did say that in passing. “Well, I don’t use this much, and I want you to have it,” she said. So I took it and I cried.
Other than that, today I gathered tax papers for the accountant (Thank God for accountants! Clark used to do the taxes using one of those computer programs, but not me.), discovered Sampino's Italian deli/restaurant, talked to the dog whisperer, who agrees that Zing does not belong in his class, since he trains police dogs mostly, and separation anxiety is not something you can train an animal out of, but rather you ease him out. The best thing he told me is that every dog is different and to trust my gut when I see something is working for Zing. He also said, and I agree, that the anxiety will seep away from both Zing and me the longer we live here and shape our new life.
I hope you all get to enjoy this 3-day weekend!
Love,
k
Feb 17, 2017
Love that mess!
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Dear Friends,
Today was uneventful — but I am getting messages subliminal, peripheral and direct to take it easy with changes in Zing’s training. I’m listening!
It’s 9:30 p.m. and Zing and I just came back from the grocery store. Uh-oh! I might become one of those people who stay up all night! **
The other day I took these photos of my studio to show Irene. You can see that one side of the room is neat and the other half is a mess. Today I spent several hours on the messy side, cleaning out files. But the place is still messy.
Love,
k
** Guess not. I fell asleep immediately after writing this.
 |
| Daybed with map of California and Zing |
 |
| The messy side |
Feb 16, 2017
We're surrounded by pros
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Zing and I just came back from our first training session, recommended by ML, the yoga teacher with the recalcitrant German Shepherd. It’s run by Alan and Renée — she’s the wrangler and he’s the teacher. Throughout the hour they kept up a patter of snide remarks and jibes that only a divorced couple still working together could devise.
There were seven large dogs — big boxers and German shepherds and one that looked like a calf — and Zing. We were definitely out of place. After a demonstration of using the loose leash, we were all parading in a circle, and Alan said to me, “Why are you here?” “Separation anxiety,” I said, as Zing trotted perfectly beside me.
There are two more classes, and Alan said he will give us side tips, and he encouraged me to leave Zing alone for longer and longer times. Renée said I should leave a bottle of the Bitter Apple spray by the door to remind Zing not to bark when I’m gone. She also told me that when I can’t spray it directly into Zing’s mouth I should put some on my hand and then rub that on his nose.
Alan couldn’t stop gushing about what a fine dog Zing is. They both seemed to think that a dog as perfect as Zing will be a cinch to get in line. Zing and I discussed it on the way home, and we think they are right. We are both tired of this complete togetherness.
Earlier in the afternoon we made a trial run to Tahoe Park, where the dog training is held in a building by the swimming pool. I didn’t want to get lost driving there in the dark, but I got lost in the light anyway. Just one wrong turn and I was in the UC-Davis medical center complex — a mini-city of specialty hospitals, offices and administrative buildings, surrounded by small charming and sometimes shabby houses. I’d been told the medical center (headquartered in Sacramento, not Davis) is major, and now I have seen it.
Zing and I are lucky to have such pros around.
Love,
k
Dear Friends,
Zing and I just came back from our first training session, recommended by ML, the yoga teacher with the recalcitrant German Shepherd. It’s run by Alan and Renée — she’s the wrangler and he’s the teacher. Throughout the hour they kept up a patter of snide remarks and jibes that only a divorced couple still working together could devise.
There were seven large dogs — big boxers and German shepherds and one that looked like a calf — and Zing. We were definitely out of place. After a demonstration of using the loose leash, we were all parading in a circle, and Alan said to me, “Why are you here?” “Separation anxiety,” I said, as Zing trotted perfectly beside me.
There are two more classes, and Alan said he will give us side tips, and he encouraged me to leave Zing alone for longer and longer times. Renée said I should leave a bottle of the Bitter Apple spray by the door to remind Zing not to bark when I’m gone. She also told me that when I can’t spray it directly into Zing’s mouth I should put some on my hand and then rub that on his nose.
Alan couldn’t stop gushing about what a fine dog Zing is. They both seemed to think that a dog as perfect as Zing will be a cinch to get in line. Zing and I discussed it on the way home, and we think they are right. We are both tired of this complete togetherness.
Earlier in the afternoon we made a trial run to Tahoe Park, where the dog training is held in a building by the swimming pool. I didn’t want to get lost driving there in the dark, but I got lost in the light anyway. Just one wrong turn and I was in the UC-Davis medical center complex — a mini-city of specialty hospitals, offices and administrative buildings, surrounded by small charming and sometimes shabby houses. I’d been told the medical center (headquartered in Sacramento, not Davis) is major, and now I have seen it.
Zing and I are lucky to have such pros around.
Love,
k
Feb 15, 2017
Hearts and bitter spray
Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Dear Friends,
I love hearts and am going to keep on making valentines all year. I know your day was full of love. I feel it!
The Homeowners Association met tonight and I went. Drew a couple of board members’ faces while they weren’t looking. Saw all these men at the big table, and one woman taking notes … I was back in another era. Yet I better be grateful that they do this thankless job. After the meeting I invited the other two women who attended to stop by and look at my newly fixed up condo. I knew they would want to see — they are as curious as I am about how others fix their places. (I always prefer the meeting after the meeting, don’t you?)
Earlier, at lunchtime, Zing and I crossed the yellow bridge and followed the river walk down to the railroad bridge, where we watched an Amtrak train pass by. Lots of people were out in the sun, probably like me, knowing a cold rain is supposed to start up again soon. Zing barked at two dogs, so I sprayed the bitter stuff in the direction of his mouth. No way would he open up. Perhaps tomorrow the dog whisperer will tell me how on earth to follow her directions and persuade Zing to let me spray the nasty stuff directly IN his mouth.
Love and hearts!
k
Valentine or not
Inspired by a palm tree and the water rising
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