The kitchen is just a bare slate, waiting for something to be made.
World's Fluffiest Pancakes recipe with cornmeal and add a Tablespoon of sour cream).
Or perhaps just a short stack with some fresh Marionberry Preserves from Dad's.
There are a lot of interesting tools around this place since households merged.
Bloodhound of the Law. Sniffing out crime one step at a time.
Before you know it, he was back, it was time for a drive for a late lunch of Mexican food with Midwest Chick (Mr. B was unable to make it), and Mr. and Mrs. Og and the Oglet.
I really hadn't seen anyone since Barkley died a month ago, either working or just huddling with family. But, with schedules and winter colds, I hadn't seen Midwest Chick since before Christmas, so the first thing she said was, "you got your hair cut, it's really cute!" "Cut" was sort of an understatement. I had recently gone in for a trim and asked the stylist to chop off a couple inches. She said, "are you sure, that would be a lot?" I'm thinking "two inches, that's nothing". In wet, curly hair that shortens up as it dries, two inches is like four inches in normal hair. I should have listened to her. It's not short, but it's above my shoulders and my shoulders feels naked. The thing is, it's an awesome haircut, letting my natural waves do something other then stick straight up. Everyone loved it, even the guys of my team, when I dropped in after returning from Dad's, complimenting me, saying I looked "Sassy".
Sassy? Isn't that a name of a Collie?
I wanted to thank Midwest Chick for the compliment, but what I think came out of my mouth was "Timmy's stuck in the well!" Fortunately, my hair grows fast, but it's always good to get a cut that actually worked with my hair, not an easy thing for a stylist.
Greetings made, we settled in with baskets of chips and fresh salsa as we had lots to catch up on, funny dog and cat stories and photos of some interesting outdoor machines that beaverize wood ("this one is one of only two made, the other's in an evidence locker" ) and stories from IT hell (which every profession knows something about). I got a little quiet, sometimes, as we shared dog stories, but everyone understood.
It got dusty in there all of a sudden as I held it, but I was proud to accept it.
Soon, it was time to go. Midwest Chick had made some awesome cookies for everyone (brownie dough layered with orange/cardamon infused shortcake) and I had a container with Monkey Bars and some Dark Chocolate Espresso shortbread cookies I made for her and Mr. B. Cookie exchange was made as we left the restaurant with the appropriate secret codewords. . .
"What's the Frequency Kenneth"
"I believe Louisiana is the Pelican State".
and then she had to head home.
The orange ribbon, looks just like the collar Barkley wore.
click to enlarge.
We visited until the sun started to wane and then I waved goodbye as they drove home. I know that later, I will laugh, and I will cry, as I carefully tuck that memory into my book each night.
You know, I truly do, and for that, I thank the Lord every day, not just on Sunday.