It was not a lie!

Sun, beautiful sun! Finally, some vitamin D. The dogs and I spent the morning at the park to take it all in. Plato, pacific northwest dog that he is, found the weather to be just too unbearably hot to fetch the ball more than 5 times and spent most of the time seeking out patches of shade. I happened to run into a local dog walker whom I've befriended. We walked around the park and attempted, in vain, to catch a dog wandering around without an owner. Man, that dog did not want to be caught. Luckily, it was a very bossy Jack Russell (with a collar) so I think it will be ok. Anyway, the dog walker was telling me about a new client (Jasper Carrott - apparently he is a pretty famous British comedian) who has hired him to "babysit" his elderly black lab. No actual walking of the dog is involved, he just hangs out with it when the guy and his wife go out to dinner. A dog that is more spoiled than Plato and Sascha?! I didn't think it was possible.

I also took the dogs to the vet this morning because Plato has a gross cyst on his neck. I had it drained (ewwwwwwwww) in December before we moved, but it has come back - bigger and grosser than ever. Seriously, is there anything worse than petting a dog and having your had run over some nasty lump? I can't stand it. I cringe when people at the dog park pet him. I just want to be like "I know, you felt the lump, right? So gross." I could keep having the vet drain it, but it will just keep coming back so Plato is going in tomorrow to have it removed. He will be there all day. What will Sascha and I do with ourselves?? Probably paint nails. Maybe sunbathe. Play truth or dare ("I dare you go in the garden when I'm not looking and dig a gigantic hole... OH WAIT YOU ALREADY DID."). Something like that.

I finally went grocery shopping and I figured out why I hate going so much. The shopping itself is fine - though I still get a little nervous at the checkout because I cannot for the life of me remember which coins are which and I have to look at them very carefully like a weirdo - but the worse part is putting the stuff away once I get home. Our fridge is so teensy tiny (it takes up about the space of a dishwasher) that I have to be very strategic about how I put things in it. Every time I go shopping I have to basically take everything out, confirm there is nothing in there that needs to be thrown out, and put everything back verrrryyy carefully. I guess that doesn't sound so terrible, but fridges have always been my weak spot. In the past, the rest of the house would be borderline sterile and the fridge would remain diz-guz-ting (although you better believe that stainless steel didn't have a single fingerprint on it). In our palatial fridge back in Seattle, that could go on for a loonngggg time before it became "an issue". As in, I would try to shoo Jeff away from the fridge while unpacking the groceries together so he wouldn't see my dirty little secret. Of course, there was the inevitable, terrible discovery. "Oh my GOD, Lauren, what IS this??!?!?!?" "Ohhhhh mmm, I dunno, just nothing, just throw it away" "Man, what ELSE is in here...???" "Oh nothing I'm sure, why don't you just shut the fridge, let's do this later. Hey, I heard the Romans are practically begging to be conquered..... JUST SHUT THE FRIDGE NOW. " It totally reminds me of how my sister and I used to hoard our vitamins instead of taking them. No, Mom, you really don't want to look under that dresser (home of a gigantic pile of vitamins). Heh heh, remember that Margann? Classic.

The dogs and I are relaxing in the bedroom right now. I'm having a cuppa tea and a ridiculously delicious satsuma and they are basking in the sun. I'm trying to conserve my energy for spin class tonight - I figure if it is in writing I can't back out!