I’ve become pretty clever about stocking up on staples during the coronavirus crisis, finding new space to stack boxes and cans. Now I just need to figure out where I stashed that extra bag of Cowboy’s kibble.
I’m sure it’s someplace cute. My last “aha” was the guest bathroom, but apparently I have been cuter than that.
You might think I’m worrying that Cowboy knows something I don’t, but he is not the sort of dog to overeat. Maybe I need to write poems to lead me to the whereabouts of hidden things, but that seems like a tiresome Santa Fe trick.
Home maintenance and personal care during the COVID era have already brought surprises.
I think online orders, paper packaging and maybe letting them air on the porch for 24 hours might have led to the baby tarantula wandering along my kitchen counter the other night. We usually don’t see tarantulas on the move until October and this was the first I’ve ever seen inside the house.
I gave myself my first selfie haircut as soon as the Amazon-ordered clippers arrived. I felt refreshed until I ducked my head in front of the computer and saw some thinning had already occurred.
I joke around that all I need is another respiratory issue. But for my own sake and the sake of others, we always know where I have stashed my masks.
dream ranch 