Why is breakfast served so early? And what’s up with milk that I need a nap afterward?
Sometimes milk jumps out of the bowl onto the rug. I need to drink every drop because my medicine is in there.
I’ve been investigating various techniques for getting more milk. Sometimes I pretend I am still waiting.
That never worked, so I tried half-covering the bowl for a while. Apparently, that is still too subtle a hint.
There’s a little blanket for my tush that is by the heat vent. It soaks up the last of the milk in the bowl if I get it in just right. Then I suck the milk out of the blanket. That blanket mysteriously vanished.
If I up-end the milk bowl, I can get the last of it onto the floor and lick it up. It’s hard to do without also flipping my grain bowl upside down. This is a pathetically small area for a big boy like me. I should have the entire kitchen. And the living room, too, for that matter.
One of my other projects is Indoor Grazing. I’ve gotten the Farm Manager to bring in a bucket of grass almost every day. Everything tastes better when it’s served in a bucket. She does a nice job of combining grass, bamboo, and a smattering of dandelions into a dandy salad.
Lately she’s been training the visitors to bring bamboo. Isn’t it funny how much better everything tastes indoors?
We also have some new outdoor treats. These roses have outgrown their cage and now they floof out over the fence at perfect nibbling height. The roses are conveniently located next to my hot tub, like a concession at a baseball game.
It’s June-uary in Seattle, so the weather is fickle and I still like a steamy hot tub. This one has orange peel aromatherapy. You should be so lucky.
This is a bigger tub on the other side of the yard. There isn’t a hot water spigot here but if we have morning sun, it heats up quickly. This one has lemons. We haven’t seen my goldfish in a while, not since that pesky Great Blue Heron came through.
There’s also a small pool in the front yard, now. It reappeared suddenly, about when that tush blanket disappeared. Was it reincarnated as a pool?
The best pool is not a pool at all. It’s my front yard bog. It’s gooey and stinky and the mud is phenomenal. The concession there has some of the best grass in the yard.
The consistent quality of the mud allows me to explore a wide variety of decorative techniques.
Sometimes I like a simple overall color change.
This stripe effect was very difficult to achieve, even with the high quality mud.
Without an audience, what does any of it mean? Why does the Farm Manager run away when I show off my latest creations?
Sadly, it all comes off in the hot tub. Or on the Farm Manager’s jacket or jeans. Or the kitchen, if I go in there to shake.