I received a call last week from Chris who has over 70 acres in the hills 10 miles from me. He and his wife are interested in getting feral cats as mousers for this, their second home with an upstart vineyard, enormous house, big red barn, a flourishing garden, a pool and pool house. In a word: the place is a dream. Yes, I’m aware that’s five words. But come on, it’s too incredible to warrant just one.
Anyway, the vineyard is isolated almost 3 miles off the main road, winding along seemingly endless pastureland. It was then that it occurred to me this could be a setup. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going and who knows what awaited at the end of that gravel road?
So last Wednesday I’m out of nectarines. Or maybe it was Burrata cheese. The point is, United Market carries the best of both so I made a quick stop. If you’ve never had Burrata before, I ask you, “Why the hell not?!” Simply drain the liquid, slice off a creamy section, drizzle it with olive oil, sea salt, freshly cracked black pepper and red pepper flakes (if you like to live dangerously) then dollop it on toasted, sliced baguettes rubbed ever so slightly with a clove of garlic. I tell ya, it’s cheese heaven.
Anyway, while I shopped, I found much more I wanted to buy. As usual. To look in my cupboards you’d think I’m housing 4 people here. Hey, I stock up. I’m a stocker. But the thing is, while I roamed the isles, I noticed how crowded the store was for a Wednesday afternoon.
I’ve been coming to this United Market since I was a kid. My mom brought my sister and me with her each week. Vicki and I sat in the cart eating Flicks milk chocolate discs. They were our reward for being tolerable while Mom shopped. Sometimes, when we were exceptionally good, we got Necco Wafers. I don’t recall having the opportunity to enjoy those very often.
It’s practically a miracle I posted at all this week. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like a parting of the Red Sea or anything, but still miraculous in its own way. You see, whenever I sit down to write my blog, someone insists on sitting across my lap and napping on my keyboard. That someone is my new mutt, Wally.
Don’t worry, I won’t bore you ad nauseam with continued Wally blogs…Wally did this, Wally did that, yada, yada Wally….I promise to bore you only when he does something exceptionally cute or particularly irritating. Wait. He does both those things. Guess I’ll be boring you more than I planned.
So I’m at Berkeley Humane Society a couple weeks ago picking up cat food they donated to my nonprofit when a little black dog, happy as all get-out, walked by and immediately caught my eye; he’s the type of dog I’ve been looking for. Not that I need another dog. I should think 3 is enough. And it is. But…
My Greyhound is over 11 now and being that she’s not in the greatest health, I thought I’d keep my eyes open for a small dog to add to my animal family since Nellie may not be with us much longer. I’m a firm believer in things are meant to be and that day was no exception.
Nellie in her prime
I ask you, what are the odds I’d be at the Berkeley Humane Society that day (where I’d never been) and their volunteer was walking a Dachshund-mix (exactly the dog I had in mind) by my car at the exact moment I drove up? Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t jump out and adopt him right then, if that’s what your thinking. I’m not THAT impulsive.
Due to the fact that I just didn’t get to it this week, here’s an encore blog from a couple years back. Hey, you probably don’t remember it anyway so it’ll be just like new!
What a morning.
I ask you, have you ever had one of those days when you realize pretty early on you probably should have stayed in bed longer? Or maybe not gotten up at all? Continue reading