Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
I don't have a lot to say today. Despite spending the weekend at a kennel, Delmer's assimilation into our lives continues to be so smooth and practically seamless.
As awesome as our at-home evenings were last summer, with the chickens and Pete and Diesel, I have to say, this year they are joyous. We had an old dog for quite awhile-- and we loved him-- but we forgot a little how fun it is watching a young dog bow and prance and frolic. Monday evening, Delmer took off for a race around the orchard, while Patrick and I got a little campfire going. The sound and sight of him: an ecstatic racing blur of red and tongue and rushed breath, feet thundering through the grass-- we'd forgotten that.
Fence training is going really well, too. Yesterday I worked in the garden all morning with him inside the invisible fence, and within sight, and he was perfectly content to lie in the grass, trading on and off between sunny and shady places, for hours.
And when I write, he retires here happily. He's a big lazy dog. He loves comfort-- I guess all dogs do-- and he and I both are so pleased with this beat-up old armchair that fits him, and is near a window. Right now he's snoring.