I am addicted to roasted almonds. The nut's profile reads like a who's who of nutrition. If that were not reason enough, the flavor and crispness make them a good substitute for chips.
My addictions do not end with almonds. I could gorge on Rainier cherries, red grapes and fresh salmon.
Just like a smart child, Pogo knows where I hid the treats. Now, every time I walk into the kitchen Pogo breaks his neck trying to beat me to the cabinet. And just like a child, if I do not bring out the treat bag, he cries and all but throws himself on the floor in a fit. Like many parents I give in so I can have peace. Call me Pavlov.
The drought drove a bumper crop of insects into the cooler homes. I charted water bugs, roaches, sugar ants and some funky bug that reminds me of Dale Earnhardt Jr. The war wages on. I made a deal with the spiders: I will not squash you flat if you will not bite me. So far the accord holds.
My rescue rose hangs on by its thorns. Of course a week without water did nothing to help its health.
Yesterday I pulled weeds, the day before I cruised the aisles of Wallyworld. Today I do not want to do anything and most likely will not.
Laters, Dude.
Mittens cries and cries for his snack in the evenings. Snack time is 9pm-ish. He starts whining at 8, sometimes before. All I do is say "NO" about a billion times and ignore him. lol It's hard, but I don't want to give him more food than he needs!!
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