As I mentioned the other day, we have a new baby at our house.
Well, not exactly a baby. She’s four and a half. But she’s tiny. And cute. And ridiculous.
Meet Lillian the Chihuahua, commonly known as “Lil Miss.” (Yes, Ron named her after the desk clerk in my novel, which you totally need to order if you haven’t already.) Lil also answers to “Get Your Face Out of the Cat’s Bowl.”
I’m pretty sure Lil is judging me.
Shady expressions notwithstanding, Lil is a sweet little dog, and she’s a quick study — I don’t think she’d ever been on a leash in her life when we got her, and she had a total meltdown the first time I put one on her, but less than 24 hours later, she had the hang of it and walked around the block just fine. She also had to learn about crunchy dog food (which she loves) and having her teeth brushed (which she hates so much she cries like a newborn baby and squawks like a crow every time Ron tries to do it).
I have no idea why I waited 35 years between Chihuahuas. They’re great entertainment, and marvelously portable: Lil went to work with me in a little sherpa bag for a couple of hours on Thanksgiving and just sat quietly on my lap while I designed pages.
In other news, the house looks terrific since I whipped it into shape so I could take pictures of it to send to Lloyd Kahn, the author of Tiny Homes, who is now working on a book about small homes. I’ll post some pictures one day soon.
I know it’s old, but this video makes me laugh harder every time I watch it.
I’m still trying to figure out where she found a cat that isn’t terrified of the vacuum cleaner. Walter hides under the bed every time we get ours out. He doesn’t even like for me to use the Dustbuster. And God help you if you try to put some kind of clothing on him.
Anyway. Cat in a shark costume, riding a Roomba. Get into it.
I basically accomplished nothing today, unless you count taking the station wagon to the shop (reverse gear has ceased to work, so I suspect we’re going to be replacing a transmission), having a snack and a couple of craft beers at the local microbrewery, and sleeping more than a grownup really should.
Oh, well. We had a nice evening. I might cap it off with an episode of Doctor Who and a bag of popcorn with olive oil and green chile powder. Unless I fall asleep first.
On a completely unrelated note, this will never not be funny:
My nephews came to visit us today. We took them to the Show-Me Center for Jurassic Quest, a traveling exhibit that includes life-sized, animatronic dinosaurs, including a few kids can ride for pictures, and all manner of other dinosaur-themed activities. Here are a few photos of their adventures:
After the dinosaur show, my brother-in-law took us all out to lunch at Beef O’Brady’s, a sort of Applebee’s-type place in Jackson, where I let Ollie decide what I should eat for lunch. He picked out a big appetizer plate with chicken strips and onion rings and quesadillas and mozzarella planks and four kinds of dipping sauce. He pointed to the picture on the menu and explained that we were going to split this meal: He would eat “this part” (gesturing to the row of actual food), and I could eat “all this” (gesturing to the little cups of sauce). Pretty slick, that one. He also saw Jamie playing the piano in my dining room and suggested they go sit in the ball chair, which is pretty much their favorite piece of furniture ever. They dashed into the living room, and half a minute later — with his brother suitably distracted — Ollie returned to the piano alone.
They also had fun finding the Doctor Who-themed geocache in my front yard, inspecting the quail and the frozen pond in the back, peering into the worm bin in the basement, befriending the dogs, trying unsuccessfully to coax the cat out from under the bed, and munching on cookies and ice-cream bars.
Jamie, who has been doing a lot of cooking lately, got to take home a dozen quail eggs to experiment with. Can’t wait to see what kind of tiny egg dishes he’ll come up with.
Oh, and lest you think we neglected Hazel: She was attending a birthday party today and missed the dinosaur show, so the boys took a dinosaur souvenir home for her. Next time she sees them, she’ll have her very own velociraptor to assemble and three fossils to dig out of a brick of plaster, including a Mosasaur tooth and some fossilized dinosaur poop.
Hope you had a dinosaurs-and-ice-cream-bars sort of weekend, wherever you are.
Forty-five minutes from Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the little guy who made this hand turkey I framed and hung above my desk last year. And for his big brother and their cousin. Nieces and nephews are the best.