Green Toad Book Store The Green Toad is my local bookshop, which is the best place to go if you'd like a signed copy of Sweater Quest. I can drop down to the store and personalize a copy for you, too. Just drop Michele an email and she'll set you up.
"I will confess to my own classism when it comes to Paula, because those weird blue contacts and that cloying accent and all those diamond rings on her fingers while she's kneading dough got on my nerves long before she -- well, pick a transgression. But it must be said that she is not her own best advocate. At the South Beach Wine & Food Festival, she did a demo on the Today show during which she made so many raunchy jokes about 'chicken balls,' the name of the dish she was cooking, that Al Roker finally said, 'set your watches; that's where it all went wrong.'"
-- Julia Reed in, you guessed it, Garden and Gun, which captures all that I love about the South. And there is a lot to love.
On Monday I drove down to exit 67A of the Garden State Parkway* to pick up my mother and this guy.
His name is Denny. He and Lucy** have gotten on like a house a'fire. Every waking moment has been full of playing and leaping. Both dogs are covered in drool.*** It is doggy heaven.
My mom, as some might recall, doesn't live in New Jersey. A Floridian friend of hers drives up every year to visit with her daughter in the Bruce Springsteen state and mom hitched a ride. She'll be here for two weeks, then we'll do the whole thing in reverse.
It's nice to have both her and Denny here -- but the house is a little bit more chaotic than usual and covered in twice as much dog hair. It's only a matter of time before OSHA shuts us down.
* As I mentioned on Facebook, the Garden State Parkway sucks donkey balls. I'm not sure how long it will take to get my shoulders to unknot from driving 80 miles per hour in bumper to bumper traffic while still being passed like I'm stationary.
** She's feeling a little bit better, by the way. Still limping and prone to just passing out from exhaustion but better. Thanks for the well wishes.
*** Denny also has amorous intentions toward Our Lucy, even though he lacks the necessary puppy making equipment. She's tolerating it but smacks him down when she has had enough.
I took the dog to the vet a few weeks ago for her yearly check-up and shots. As they do in these parts, they also drew blood to check for Lyme disease. I didn't think much of it because Lucy had been behaving more or less like a two-year old corgi should, which is mostly the best dog ever and an occasional sock-stealing ratfink.
Turns out, she also has Lyme. The vet took a wait and see approach; if she stays asymptomatic, no need to worry. But last week that changed. She developed a limp, then exhibited the "walking on eggshells" symptoms. She stopped eating. In general, she was not a happy pup.
And so antibiotics are on the menu. So far, so good. Pilling a dog is sooooo much easier than pilling a cat. Lucy seems to be feeling better. She has been an extra snuggly pooch, though.
The real party will be on Saturday. We did a low-key celebration yesterday, which consisted of a day full of nag-free video games and a trip to Ruffino's, which is where he wanted to eat a birthday dinner. And, yes, because it was his birthday, he could take his Kindle into the restaurant. Otherwise, it's verbotten.
'Twas just the Boy and I, too, because the Tween had a swim meet. We talked about the things important to a nine-year old, which included Minecraft, Bill Cosby, and explosions. Good times.