A couple of hours ago the mailman was knocking on my door to deliver one magazine, one Anthropologie catalogue (not my favorite to date…), four unexpected packages and two letters.
This might be the best mail day I’ve had in months.
Some of those packages were early birthday presents (thank you, wonderful ladies)! I feel so spoilt! I’m turning 29 in exactly two weeks, RW has been planning something secret and special that involves a back country yurt (or so I’ve most expertly guessed). I can’t wait. He has a knack for giving the very best gifts in the form of experiences.
The manly mountain man (that’s MMM, for short) has been bonding with his Baby Beast all day long. He was away over the weekend hunting the Big Beast on chukar, West of Pocatello. Bird season is officially over in Idaho, Farley will rest until next autumn when RW can take him out again. It’s nice to have RW home again and working on our un-bathroom. I think that yesterday night was the first night in two months that I have actually complained about not having a bathroom — I’m pretty proud of that track record. Being bathroom-less in our house for this long has made me feel like a pioneer woman, even though I have a KitchenAid mixer…and an automatic garage door…and some other stuff…that is modern and convenient.
And yes, that is a Molson Canadian Hat RW is wearing. My Grandma Thoen mailed it our way. It has hockey sticks on the other side. RW loves it.
Plumbelina’s bottom gets darling-er by the day.
Seriously. I wish you could see it in action.
She has successfully chewed half the cover off one of my art books in the living room, eaten countless chicken droppings, mauled my fox hat (I put a stop to that, rather quickly) as well as two of my houseplants. Additionally, she tried to eat Mister Pinkerton’s tail last night (he put a stop to that, rather quickly).
Oh, as I type this, Plum just brought me a set of my underpants that she pulled out of the laundry hamper.
Lovely. Thanks for that, little baby dog of the glorious bum.
I have started another avocado pit hoping and praying that I might grow an avocado tree! I have tried countless times to start a pit in a bowl of water like everyone else does but I have never succeeded. While at my myofascial massage on Saturday, my masseuse, Pippi (not a joke, I actually know a wonderful lady named Pippi), informed me that she has had success with this type of avocado start. Keep your fingers crossed for the pit.
A scant week ago, I found my amaryllis in the laundry room cupboards where I had placed it to spend summer, last spring. I watered it and put it on the kitchen table and it has already thrust a green spike up into the air. What a keener.
On Sunday, I bought myself a bouquet of tulips. For no good reason at all, except I deserved it.
Since quitting Facebook, I have walked my dogs five times (a mile at a time for the baby dog), written seven letters, journaled seven FULL pages in my sketchbook and finished three loads of laundry — among other things. I feel reinvented.
How on earth did you little magpies spend your weekends?
I imagine there was delicious wine and fine fodder.
Perhaps hot springs?
A clever book.
Math homework.
The cleaning of a kitty litter box.
Some sewing.
The turning of a sock on a pair of knitting needles.
Thai food!
A long ride on horseback through shallow snow drifts.
A raccoon in the dumpster out behind the garage.
The click and whir of a camera shutter.
A warm kiss.
Or fifty.
I love kissing.
Happy Monday to you all!
xx
The Plume