When I walked into the living room and turned on the light, I realized they were all balled up on the sofa. No wonder - here we are, mid-August, and it was 45 degrees. This is not right. Nope. Not at all. After making them go out (it's a lot of, "You go first. No, YOU go. No, YOU go." when it's cold), I made a cup of chai tea, let them back in, and sat on the chair-and-a-half to dig into a (are you sitting?) book. Yes, Sylvie has me hooked on the Maisie Dobbs series. Light reading, well-written, with a fine character study and an interesting period piece. Plus it's a mystery and I love me my mysteries.
Within nanoseconds, Pepper was smooched up next to me. I feel a tap on my knee, peer over my book, and there is Lovey. Furrowed little brow, soft, wrinkly boxer face, white paw on my knee. Pepper goes into my lap, Lovey smooches up next to me. Then there is some heavy purring on the back of my neck. Slim - he who must not be held - has snuggled tightly against my neck. Scrappy has dibs on the favorite end of the sofa and is snoring softly(ish), his back to me, looking like the canine version of Yoda.
My mornings are filled with a whole lotta lovin. This is especially appreciated when it's 46 degrees, fernatssake.
I try to keep the pity out of my face, as my office mates ask if I'd like a salad from the deli downstairs. Poor unfortunates. I sit with an array of salads on my desk - left to right (I forgot my cellphone at home - I hope Scrappy doesn't surf the Net all day) - thinly sliced cucumbers (mine), sprinkled with kosher salt, freshly ground black pepper and seasoned rice vinegar; diced tomato (mine), sprinkled with basil - green and amythest - chiffonade (mine) and a little EVOO (Italy's); broccoli salad - diced raw broccoli (mine), with Craisins (Ocean Spray's), red onion (farm in VT), diced crisp bacon (Marianne's), and dressed with a dollop of mayo (Hellman's), yogurt (mine), ACV (mine) and a teaspoon of sugar (organic somebody's). I go close my office door, because I don't want them to see what they're missing. I am trying to be kind.
|I have this every single day, until I run out of tomatoes.|