I've given up trying to figure out the weather. Once again, it will be a Winter of All Jackets. Rain, vest, down, windbreaker. In an effort to lift my mood, I have pulled out all the stops on the hygge.
|The pups were all for it. Lovey on top,|
PB in the princess bed.
I have also been cooking up comfort foods, like mushroom rice. There is a local business that grows the most amazing mushrooms - the concoction below has shiitake, lions mane and chestnut.
I've been doing a little knitting, but have been concentrating mostly on a big clear out. I am girding my loins for a foray into the laundry/tool/garden/storage room. My plan is to get rid of at least one third of what's in there, so that I can stop cringing every time I open the door.
Apria was finally buried a week ago, Sunday. It was, unfortunately, as ungracious as I had hoped it wouldn't be. (Sorry for the convoluted syntax.) It broke my heart and I wept copious tears. I think I totally unnerved the excavation guy. When I asked him if I could write him a check, he said he would send me a bill and got out of there as fast as someone driving a large earth-moving piece of equipment could manage. I haven't gotten the bill yet, which is like having the sword of Damocles hanging over your head.
...a sweet, older gentleman sheep is looking for a cozy retirement home. He seems to be adjusting to the loss of Apria, but he is lonely. Winter is never a good time to rehome a sheep or any other livestock. He comes with his own hay and can be transported, so fingers crossed.