There was painting, tile glazing, cleaning, playing and blogging going on at the Hudarosa this fine Spring day. Ohhhh! And gardening. After Hud took me out for Asian food at lunch, we stopped off at Home Depot to retrieve the new kitchen door handles we had ordered. While we were there, I spied a few early vegetables. I picked up a few more broccoli and some gorgeous rainbow colored Swiss Chard.
I planted the babies beside their hardy cousins who weathered the Winter. I wanted to get them in the ground before the rain comes tonight. Young plants always seem to do better when they are nurtured by Mother Nature. It probably has to do with the chemicals in the water. Or maybe she's more understanding of what they need.
The wind swirled around the us as we planted. Zali and Simone stayed with me for a while, digging holes in the warm earth. Then, they caught a smell in the wafting breezes and off they ran, chasing ghosts of Springtime. They ran about the yard like crazy sixteen year old Amish kids on Rumspringa.
So rumpsprung were the wee ones that they slept the rest of the day. Dreaming of trailing scents in the gusts, their feet paddled the blankets and tails thumped the bed. I let them sleep.
This is what happens when you try to photograph the blithe Mademoiselle Simone.
You call her name and she rushes to kiss you on the nose, rendering these slightly disturbing images of one of her gorgeous doe eyes. Monsieur Zali, on the other hand, always manages to find the right light and tilt his head just so. Simone lacks focus, I suppose.
After, she will run like a wild hare around the back yard until she plops down in the monkey grass. Her sides heaving, she fools you into believing that this is your chance to snap up her essence in the camera. How wrong you are...
She will pop up as you approach, leap onto your legs and fly away. Her mind moves on the wings of butterflies. It's difficult to capture a creature in flight when you are so aware that to hold them you must do so with open hands.
"No, Seely Gurl. Ze people do zhat when zhey are happy! Dogs wag ze tail when happy. Ze people do not. And if you ever see ze Growly Dog, Aida, do it? Rrrrrun for your life!"
Order restored once again, we made Muffaleta Sandwiches dripping with olive salad and succulent Italian charcutrie for lunch to honor Mardi Gras. To acknowledge Shrove Tuesday, I'm making banana pancakes with chocolate bourbon drizzle when Hud comes come.
"Ahhhh, ze Zali loves ze holidays when special foods are celebrated."
"Seely Gurl, we had ze Groundhog's Day earlier zeese very month and not one seengle person offered me a Groundhog sandweech or anyseng. Very deesapointing..."
*Thanks for fixing the motor, Homer! You're my hero!*
Do you think that a thought in her head would die a lonely death or rejoice at finally finding the light?
Ahhh, Zoe! I heard her brains rattling around in her skull today like marbles in a Mason jar. Her schedule is never taxing. She napped. On the chaise in the den. On the air mattress in my office. On her bed in our room. In the kitchen under my feet as I prepared lunch. The few times she had her eyes open, she squeaked to de-stress on her various and plentiful toys. She went out to the back garden to relieve herself.
Yep. That's about it. The only item left on the itinerary is supper and sleep the night away.
She's so peaceful that her tail thumps as she sleeps. They're very nice dreams apparently. No worries.
I, however, almost beat a service repairman for arguing with me about why he needed to come see the refrigerator that he had "fixed" last Friday because it sounded like a tractor trailer was idling in my kitchen. I had been waiting for him since eight in the morning. It was 2:30 when he called to say he wasn't coming because it would be a waste of his time, since he knew what was wrong already and he didn't have the part with him.
It's a good thing he didn't show. I wasn't wearing any makeup for the news segment that was sure to ensue. I'd like to look nice for my mugshot. One never wants to do a Nick Nolte for the press with all the crazy hair and a bleary face. My apologies to the lovely lady on the phone for giving her a piece of my mind.
I have to maintain my decorum. Zoe, may I borrow a squeaky toy?
Zali knows I'm feeling better when I start to wax poetic about cooking. Last night, I concocted a sammich of pork tenderloin (marinate in Dijon,salt pepper, copious amounts of garlic and cook in a bath of red wine and apple juice), curried mayonnaise (a couple of tablespoons of mayo, hot sweet mustard, spicy hot curry powder, honey and a drop or two of liquid smoke), caramelized onions with rosemary and mustard seed, and piled on a couple of toasted slices of rosemary/olive oil bread draped in a melted slice of smoked gouda. SIGH. BIG SIGH.
Zali is still distraught this morning that I was quite the cochon and did not make him one of his very own. I explained that dogs cannot eat onions as it affects their liver in a dangerous way. While that is true, the fact of the matter is that I did not even speak as I scarfed down the delectable treat. I was not capable of sharing. It was that good.
I dreamed about it last night. I attended the finest restaurants in Paris, Rome, all over the world and everytime they lifted the silver dome --TA DA! The magical curried pork tenderloin sandwich nestled on a pristine white plate.
I do love me some pig. SIGH. BIG SIGH.
"Yes, Muhzer, but ze Zali, he would have geeven ze sandweesh with you!"
I sat up today. Whoppee! And I do mean, whoopee! Because after I was up for a minute the room started to twirl like the tea cup ride at Disneyland. And I do mean Disneyland, not World, because I have no children and have never been there. Lucky me.
Hud went out and documented the Spring so that I could witness it from the safety of my bed. Enjoy.
The pink saucer magnolia or"Tulip Magnolia" always buds up first...
But the white Star Magnolia beats her to it every single year...
In case you haven't read, "I hash a code." *sniff*
And despite what my friend Marcus thinks, I am not going for my Geek Merit Badge. Consider this the reenactment of that television commercial where the woman is casually walking around the city whilst sporting a giant stuffed bear head on her noggin. I know what you're thinking, "Where else would she wear it, Furry G?"
I mean the head on her noggin, not casually sporting it around the city. Or maybe both. Who knows?I'm suffering from some pretty amazing cabin pressure.
Give me a break, okay, kids? I can hardly move my head quickly without sloshing so loudly that it wakes the Pappies.
What is the saying? For a cold, you can go to the doctor and get well in ten days or you can have some chicken soup and be better in ten days.
What'd she say?
*The painting is appropriately titled, "Zombie Bunnies From Mars". *