I was in the backyard with the dogs this afternoon, watching them run and frolic and basking in the general loveliness of it all. Then Livy (the smart one, the one who does amusing tricks and is not deathly afraid of cameras) rolled in a big pile of poo. I saw her roll on her back and wiggle around, as she is known to do, but it did not cross my mind that we had a poo situation because she has never before been so vulgar as to roll in poo. But when she ran back to the porch from the top of the hill, it became clear we most definitely had a poo situation. A three-alarm poo situation. As if Livy and Mother Nature were conspiring against me, it promptly started to rain.
Instinctively I ran inside (leaving poo-ridden Livy outside) and grabbed 1) our cheapest bottle of shampoo and 2) a cell phone to call Chris because I had no idea if we have a hose. After being apprised of the situation, Chris helpfully responded, "How much money did we spend to bring them over here, again?"
You will be relieved to learn, my concerned readers, that I did find a hose. And that the water was cold -- miserably, freezing cold -- and thus Livy not only learned an important lesson but now smells like Sunsilk Moisture Therapy shampoo. I cannot be entirely sure, but I believe she is still giving me sulky sideways looks.
Otherwise, life is fine. I'm starting the job interview process in earnest tomorrow with a couple more leads next week, so hopefully something will pan out soon. We are set to take a very large trip at the end of the month (details to follow, eager readers!) so it would be nice to be able to start something when we get back, if not sooner. The suit is drycleaned, I got a haircut last week,* and my face is mostly cleared up from some inexplicable episode that left my skin looking like a 13-year-old boy's. (Not the fresh-faced, soccer-playing kind of 13-year-old. The kind that eats chips and nachos and plays Ninendo Wii in a dark room for 12 hours at a time.) So I'm all set to take the Dunedin professional world by storm. Sha-zam! Wish me luck, darling readers.
* "Bangs" does not mean the same thing over here as it does over there. You will be giggled at in the salon if you do not know this.