Yesterday was a lovely day.
By breakfast time, about 7:30, I had coffee made, and all the furry four-legged guests fed, and breakfast orchestrated (okay, it was only eggs, potato smash, and toast).
Gary had to work, and I went to a yard sale. Look what I scored for my husband, who had mentioned wanting a bigger cutoff saw for metal. Yay! This was not even out on a table “for sale”, but when I asked, the man of the family unearthed this beauty, saying he had thought of upgrading to an even larger model.
Then I came home, did a little more animal care (pet food IN = pet food OUT 😉). Poop scooping.
After unloading the saw, I went to the Dunster Farmer’s Market, about 20 miles away. I keep forgetting to show you photos of that. Like Welcome Home, it is a most marvellous venue for visiting. I lived in Dunster for 15 years, a long time ago. There are old friends and new friends there.
I was so occupied chatting with my ol’ pal Connie that I paid for a lemon loaf at the Mennonite baking table and walked away without it. Didn’t think about it until I was halfway home, and of course crave the confection now.
At the Market, I bought a tourtiere and dropped it off at my convalescing friend’s house. There was a hearty pasta sauce in the crock pot, so the tourtiere was probably more “needed” by the others. The sauce became yummy “skillet lasagne”.
Now it’s Sunday, and I hope to make it a relaxing time. There is no place I need to be, and despite always sharing anecdotes about my (mostly) small adventures, I’m content to catch up at home. I have pet care, gardening whether rain or shine, sewing dog blankets, and more.
First thing, the hot tub was calling. I haven’t used it too much since March, when I had the stroke; it seems to induce a headache at times. Not today though!
Sam usually supervises at “the spa”, and in a year of sentry duty, has never fallen in. The tub is always covered when not in use.
While at the tourtiere table yesterday, I was talking about my blog. In my own self-effacing way, I was saying that it’s mostly about dogs and food, with a little bit about family, because that’s mostly my life. The vendor seemed to think this was quite funny. I just shrugged.
It’s not as if my blog is “monetized”, though I have allowed the host site to post advertising. I’ve not made a nickel on my blog, or links from my websites, not since someone clicked on something and bought a vibrator, many years ago. So there was that $19 … I should find that link and post it everywhere. 🤷🏼♀️
There are ways to make “nickels” with blogs, and, according to some stories, ways to retire early and rich. I’m not much of a salesman, but here is fair warning … if you see a product placement in this blog, mention of a book or a tool, and if you want it, please be aware that I might make a nickel on the sale. Not likely, but you have been warned.
I might even find a way to post a donation button, the proceeds from which would be used for my occasional rescue/shelter/rehoming efforts, or related organizations that need funding.
Last week on a Facebook page usually unrelated to pet rescue, there was a heated debate about landlords who will not rent to someone with a dog or cat. After I said that I have one-out-of-two homes that I keep “pet-free”, I was called greedy, cruel and hypocritical. Evidently, I would rather see someone on the street starving and suffering with their child than let them have the run of a house with their animals. Also, I didn’t care how many pets were euthanized when owners couldn’t find pet friendly housing. This was upsetting on so many levels … the person arguing, of course, did not have homes or blocks of housing that they maintained for pet owners. I noticed this person or these persons had a special vitriol for vacation rental owners, so I kept that out of the heated exchange. It all ended in a stalemate.
I think Gary and I would go live in a tent rather than give up Cinder. This is something one considers when they get a pet.
Ah well. Must get on with my day. It is raining again, so I might not dig in the out-of-control flower beds, but there are tasks to be done in the greenhouse. Pet care, gardening, sewing, eating … wonderful endless cycles of what to me is meaningful work. Can’t solve all the housing troubles, environmental disasters, poverty and sorrow from here, except in the smallest ways.
P.s. Our California family did not fall into the ocean, despite two significant earthquakes.