I wouldn't call this place cleaned up in the slightest, but if you were here a week ago, and if you had a keen eye, you might notice that there is a slight improvement. Very slight.
I braved the supermarket this afternoon and picked up our turkey. Sticker shock! We have talked for years about what we would do when I finally stopped working for the psychiatrist and didn't get my free Branigan's turkey at Christmas. We knew it would be expensive, but I threw caution to the wind and ordered another 21 lb turkey. I was prepared for the $67 price tag, but I'm not sure Walt was.
Chunk's bowels continue to be problematic. I could show you photographic proof, but you might be eating dinner. Suffice to say we have done a LOT of laundry today and if I had a puppy shaped plug to stick in that little hole in her back end, I might be tempted to do it. Thank God Pergo is forgiving.
Ashley suggests switching back to the old kibble that I was using and see if that helps, and if it does, slowly introduce the better kibble. Hold the good thought. Right now I could use some doggie Immodium. Chunk (obviously a misnomer today!) is quite good at getting her feet on the newspaper before she squats, but then she squats with her butt hanging out over the paper and onto the Pergo. Somehow she manages to do that almost every time. Close, but no cigars. Uh...literally!
In the middle of helping Walt clean up pools of brown goo, I'm trying to organize the cooking that needs to be done. It's much easier that I don't have to worry about serving a meal here, but I'm making dessert for tomorrow night's dinner at Ned's in-laws' house, I decided to do something "special" for Christmas breakfast, even though it's only Walt and me who will be here.
I also have to get the turkey dressing ready to take to Ned & Marta's house, along with the turkey itself, and a pumpkin pie, and I have to fit that in among going to spend several hours preparing food for tomorrow night's dinner for the local homeless and then going back later in the afternoon to take pictures of the event.
I reached doggie saturation this evening. Chunk had been pooping everywhere and finally was empty. I had her in my lap when Sheila and Lizzie went outside and started barking. I called them in, but Sheila always knows when I'm thinking of locking her in and won't let me near either her or the dog door, always keeping her body between me and the dog door.
I was trying to sneak past her, but Chunk grabbed hold of the cuff of my pants and decided to try to pull me back and whenever I tried to move it seemed Half Pint was under my feet.
I hate dogs.