The cats, although it might have been just ONE cat, got into the store bought cat food. Yes, that is right. The WalMart bag was shredded. The plastic wrap covering the CANNED CAT FOOD was shedded. Dented cans of cat food lay all over the pantry floor.

Okay, maybe the dog caused the dents...

I have been having the crave/ings this week. Seriously. Oh, man, I want and I have to have and I want it now now NOW crave.

I blame the weather, for woe, it has been the cool. Not necessarily, THE COLD, but colder and forget the walking for I don't like the FREEZE.

So, the weather, the cool, and the crave. Milkshake. I've wanted a milkshake earlier this week. Not necessarily any particular flavor, but a true ICE CREAM milkshake. And, by that, I mean one made not with that icy custard, soft serve pretend ice cream. I want a shake made with hand-dipped. The kind that when you take a sip, you get those creamy clumps on the roof of your mouth and you know you are being decadent. Not many place serve hand-dipped shakes. Maybe Hardee's if you're somewhere near a Hardee's.

I talked myself out of the milkshake.

I did this while devouring grapes.

Last night, I dreamt of baking a chocolate cake. Today, it has been chocolate cake I am craving. I want one so dark in color, it is almost black. Either chocolate or white icing. And, not a Bundt cake, which is what the grocery stores carry now, usually made with soda pop. I want a double layer, double-iced real chocolate cake. Okay, I'd settle for full-sized, FRESH cupcakes. And, I'd even bake it myself, if I had the box mix or the right ingredients. Alas, not.

I am trying to talk myself out of it with a light yogurt?

And, I have to confess, this week, I craved a book and there was no choice but to satisfy that craving.

Yes, decadent. The pleasure. From that book. MMMmmmm.

You know that you've watched too much Food Network when you serve your cats their daily can of food and as you place it before them, you say, "Enjoy."

When Buck and I go out walking and he wants to pause to smell something* (like a clump of dried grass or a miniature pile of leaves) and I want to keep walking, and we, therefore, travel onwards, he gives a small grunt sound. Not a piggy grunt, more of a huff grunt. It reminds me exactly of a grumpy old man made to do what he wants not to do at a time he doesn't want to do it.

*If we paused all the time, we wouldn't be walking. At least, that's what I'm telling the dog.

Mostly on the weekends, I go walking.  Yeah, it is a part of my get healthy agenda.  Our little dog, Buck, is my walking companion.  Oh, on occasion, I walk at home on the week days.  Not too often and not too far for I am both tired and, well, really tired. But, last night, our little doggie, Buck, talked me into a walk. He used his eyes and kept nodding his head toward the door.

Last night, my husband called me a sissy.  Because.  My weekend walks weren't very far. 

This morning, at sunrise, Buck and I went for a hour long walk.  Yes, we did.  When we were at the north central area of town, Buck and I heard cows bellowing from the hills west of town.  Yes, cows.  Or maybe monsters.

 

Oh, woe.

I talked Dale into cooking a pot of his beef vegetable soup.  (I helped lots.)

I tell everyone that I married Dale for his beef vegetable soup.  It is mostly true, being I loved him and the many elements of his physical and mental being very very much, cooking sealed the deal.

So, the first vegetable soup, which is much more like stew, of the year.  I am gaining one million zillion pounds this weekend. 

Woe.

(And all the pounds weren't helped by the meal last night by Bikers with Heart; homemade chicken noodle soup, real mashed potatoes and someone made apple AND sugar cream pies for dessert.  Oh, I know, what was I thinking?  The answer is -- pause here, like a drum roll only different -- obviously, I was thinking with my stomach.)

Tomorrow morning, biscuits and sausage gravy.

I am so so bad.

Did I mention that Gary has a room for his band?  No?  He does.  It's in a building that also has rooms for three other bands (Kramus practices there and 7 Days Away as well).  Practice time in the evenings, no problem.  Which is a good thing, for whenever Gary and Will tried to practice at home, it got on their father's nerves.  For it is loud.  Verily. 

And, the band has songs.  Nothing polished yet, but six pieces.  One of them very up and down; pop and heavy.  There are songs with screaming.

Then, this, yesterday, was the day that the high school band went and played for the local grade schools.  Will played bass drums.  Except at one school where he played around on the drum set.  No big deal, he said, he did the same thing in Middle School. 

There was a dress code for this.  Black dress pants.  He wore his skinny jeans.