So maybe you noticed there wasn't a fRecipe fRiday blog. It isn't because I procrastinated; it isn't because I forgot to bake anything. It's because my grandfather died. And the week before, my dog died.
I just thought I'd share some memories with you.
When I was a kid, probably about 6 years old, my family went out to visit my grandparents in California. As a kid, I was pretty good at picking my nose. One day my grandpa caught me in the act. He showed me his finger. Not just any finger, it was his half-finger--one that had been cut off at the second knuckle at some point. He told me that his finger had been bitten off by the booger monster. I did not pick my nose for months. I still get a little wary.
My chihuahua, Shadow, used to cuddle with me in my bed. For a year or so my family had to take care of my brother's chihuahua, Teequi. She also wanted to cuddle with me. Shadow would get to bed first and pick her spot. Teequi would come later and accidentally step on Shadow multiple times, making Shadow growl.
One night, Shadow decided to come to bed later. She hopped onto my bed, found where Teequi was sleeping, and walked back and forth and back and forth over her to spite her. My dog was so cunning. One time she even broke out of her pet carrier cage.
I'm sad. But things will look up eventually. My losses are here to remind me of how precious life is.