Pea Eating Dogs...

Today was one of those super busy days that whizzed by so fast that I almost didn't remember to look at the clock. This is always a good thing. It also seems that the next week or so will continue to be like this, a fact for which I rejoice. There's nothing worse than having to try to find something to do at work. I can always find something but it never feels like it's something that matters. I like to matter in my job, no matter how insignificant the work is that I do.

As usual though, I did have time to run home for lunch. It's sort of a mandatory thing given that I have puppies that need to go outside to do their business. I love to go home at lunch for this reason too. Sookie has made it her habit to greet me with lots of excitement and kisses as soon as she's freed from the crate. Rory, of course, runs straight for the backdoor. I still can't figure out if she just wants to start her rabbit-sniffing immediately or she has a small bladder. Given that she wakes me up almost nightly at 4 a.m. to go out, I think it might be the latter. She doesn't stay out long enough on the chillier mornings for it to be more than a quick piddle in the garden.

If you don't know what a piddle is, you can look it up in a British slang dictionary. It's also know as a tiddle or a wee. Yes, we have odd slang. I find it endearing.

Anyway, in addition to be greeting with an adorable amount of enthusiasm from Sookie Sue today, I also made an alarming discovery that my dogs love peas. Not just like them, they actually fought over them.

You might be wondering why I had peas at lunch. If you know me, you'll know that it's not abnormal that I eat odd things at lunch. I tend to eat leftovers. Last year, I made fresh peas with mint for dinner. I had a lot left. They make a decent lunch along with a twice-baked potato. I had a lot of peas left and I couldn't eat them all. Rory, as usual, was trying to see what I was eating. Whatever I am eating seems to be fascinating for the pups. They're very good and don't try to snatch or jump up at me. More than anything, they just want to smell what I have. Their smelling is our seeing, I believe. Once they've smelled a sample, they decide if it's worth looking adorable for in order to try to secure a taste.

This happened today with the peas. Remembering that I've seen peas in canned dog food (in that 'country stew' flavour that they make, I think), I figured it wouldn't do any harm to let them try it.

Well, let's just say, one pea wasn't enough. They just kept wanting more. They actually tried to snatch each others peas.

I found this fascinating. You just don't think "dogs" and "peas" in the same sentence. Well, not the kind of peas you eat, anyway.

It endears my dogs to me. As a Brit, I think it's in our blood to eat peas. They're just a staple. When in doubt, make peas. We eat them frozen. We eat them fresh. We even eat them mushy. We like pea soup. We like pea salad. We just like our peas.

I actually have two friends that don't like peas. I've never understood this. Peas are the most inoffensive vegetable I can think of, honestly. They're tiny. They're cute. They don't have a huge flavour but one that just enhances a meal.

I suppose everyone's different, I suppose. Taste buds differ. This is why I don't like sour cream or tarragon. I really want to like tarragon. I keep trying. I just don't like it. Sour cream, on the other hand, is just not going to happen.

Sometimes it's not about taste, it's about texture. I'd love to like shrimp and scallops. Yet I can't get past that feel in my mouth when I eat one. I just can't do it. I've tried. I like the flavour of shrimp but just can't deal with the texture. I have friends who can't eat fruits with teeny seeds, like strawberries and figs. Now me, I love the seeds. I find figs to be one of the most perfect fruits ever. They're sweet but tangy, firm but soft and have a delicious crunch. I have friends who can't eat peaches 'cause they're 'furry'. I enjoy the furriness of the peach far more than the nakedness of a tangerine.

I think I should top talking about fruit. If you didn't know I was talking about fruit, that might be a bit of a risqué paragraph if you had the mind of a 15 year old boy which, honestly, most of us do at times.

Anyway, this babbling is all a result of the fact that my dogs seem to love peas. It surprised me. It surprises me more that both dogs liked peas. Normally, it's Rory who's my little 'goat' and Sookie is my picky eater. Rory likes blueberries, peaches, strawberries, apple and peas. She's also been known to enjoy a bit of cabbage and cucumber. I find it cute. I never give her too much, just a taste. She lets me know if she likes it.

If you're still reading, I appreciate you staying with me. I've decided recently that I have the capability to babble about anything in writing. It may not be completely factual but I do aim for entertaining. Hence the fact that I can take a single, teeny event like my dogs eating peas and turning it into a blog.

I'm not sure if this is a skill or a problem. Oh well. At least I'm writing…right?

Happy Wednesday!

Hard to Get Out of Bed Days...

Have you ever had those days where you get out of bed and you feel like just crawling back in?

I'm sure you have. Everyone has. I'm not talking about the normal, human urge to return to our warm, nightly nest because we could catch a few extra minutes of sleep. I'm talking about that urge to just go back to bed without having to get up for anything and being able to snooze in a cocoon of relaxation.

I had one of those today. I woke up, still feeling exhausted. I had a puppy pressed to my side and another one who'd curled up in the crook of my arm as though I were giving her a slumbering hug. I knew I had to get up. I didn't want to. I finally did get up and immediately, wanted to lie down and sleep again.

However, being the dutiful monkeypants I am, I did end up getting up and going to work as always.

Yet the trouble with mornings that start like this is that you never quite feel like you've woken up. At least not until it's almost time to go home.

The other problem with days like this is for at least a couple of hours after you get to work, aside from still being half-asleep is that the deep, buried part of you* is a bit resentful that you had to get up in the first place.

*(This part of you may not be buried all that deep. I know mine isn't as deep as it should be on some days.)

So, since you're feeling just a teensy tiny bit resentful, you find yourself lacking motivation to work. You try to work but each time you try, that slightly resentful part of you speaks up and says, "Come on, what are you thinking? Working? Really? Wouldn't you rather be at home sleeping?"

The answer to that, of course, is...yes. Even if you say no, the Resentful Voice continues. "Well then, how about going home and just sitting on the settee and watching the telly?"*

(*my voice is British since I am British. Hence the "settee" and the "telly." Yours would probably not speak in a British accent unless a) You ARE British, b) part of you quite fancies being British so you talk to yourself in a British accent or c) you have a bizarre disorder that makes you think in a different accent than your own).

Anyway, the minute the voices mentions the "telly", my mind wanders to my lovely living room and how nice it would be to watch telly. Fortunately, the Voice of Reason steps in and says, "PSST! CAPTAIN MONKEYPANTS, yes, you! Over here. That's right. Good Girl! Now, listen to me. Think about it. If you went home, think about all the things you could do. You could clean! You need to clean. Your house is a bit messy, after all. Also, you could weed the garden since you happen to have weeds the size of small trees growing up. Also, it's about time you squirrel-proofed the tomatoes. Also, you could decide what you're going to do with that family room of yours. You fancy a Tuscan style. You really ought to get working on that!"

At this point, I shut both voices off in my head with a shudder and go back to work. The Voice of Reason is making me tired and that's the last thing I need. I get started, waking my sleepy brain up and start trying to concentrate. Then, I find my eyes a little heavier than they should be so I go to get coffee since that might wake me up. Just as I sit down, I hear the Resentful Voice whispering very quietly so as not to alert the Voice of Reason. "The puppies! You could be home playing with the puppies!"

I stop and contemplate that. I think about how nice it would be to have the puppies curled up on my lap. Of course, The Voice of Reason steps in and says, "yes, but then you'd end up playing with them and cleaning up the mess they make when they drag all of their toys out the toybox."

Fortunately, this isn't a bad threat since that's just part of the daily routing. "Also," says the Voice of Reason, "If you leave or if you stay home tomorrow, that's one more PTO day down the train and you only have Three left. What if something happens? What if you get sick? What if you win a trip on a game show? Ok, well, you're not likely to go on a game show but you know what I mean!"

I sigh. I start working. The Voice of Reason is right.

The Resentful Voice and the Voice of Reason battle it out for a while longer but after 11:30, they get quieter because I've already made it half a day and the afternoons go by quickly anyway.

This, of course, doesn't mean I wake up much more but I stop wishing I was still in bed. Instead, I cross over the bridge from looking back with resentment and looking forward with hope. After all, there's only three point five hours left when I get back from lunch before I can go home and go to bed.

Of course, I never end up going home and going to bed. I always find myself less tired when I get home. Also The Voice of Reason is loudest when I'm at home trying to do nothing so I always end up doing something. Tonight, for example, I'm baking a quiche in the oven. I'm also baking a fig tart since I got a rather delicious jar of fig jam at T J Maxx on clearance. I adore figs. Fig jam is my new favourite food group.

I also need to take out the rubbish as well as the recycling since the dustman comes tomorrow. I also need to pick up the puppies toys as well as take a shower.

Then, I could go to bed. Yet, well, tonight is Top Chef night on Bravo and that means I can have Tom Colicchio's voice fresh in my head.

Of course, with the Resentful Voice and the Voice of Reason, it's getting a bit crowded in there.

Happy Thursday!