Back to black

Well, that didn't take long, did it? It's mind over matter, I always say.

Actually I don't know if I've ever said that, but anyway. By the time I had my mid-afternoon cup of leftover coffee I was drinking it black again. Nasty old sugar-free, non-dairy, fabulous, flavored creamer be gone!

That's my favorite coffee vessel in the photo. I asked my friend and neighbor, who is a potter, to make a mug without a handle for my morning brew and it's perfect. Yes, it gets hot, but not for long.

Vickie recently listed some of the processed foods she eats. I guess I never considered that things like fat-free yogurt, skim milk and canned tuna are processed, but they are, and I eat those, too. When I think of "processed food," I think of power bars and breakfast cereals [I do eat Shredded Wheat occasionally; the only ingredient is whole grain wheat], frozen dinners and packaged snacks. I pretty much follow the safe grocery-shopping routine of sticking to the perimeter of the store and shunning the aisles. I'm happy to buy sugar-free bread-and-butter pickles, though. Definitely processed.

The great Greta mentioned in a recent comment that her dogs would scare away any intruder who came their way, and also said: "If you liked dogs, a good watch dog would help."

I don't want anyone thinking I don't like dogs. I love dogs. I have two, who have been very good over the years at scaring away the deer so that I can actually grow tomatoes in the summer. They bark and bark and bark when the UPS truck comes up the driveway, but by the time the driver's feet hit the driveway the dogs are falling all over themselves and each other to greet him. Watchdogs they're not.
But wonderful, warm, fuzzy companions they are, and they sure do make life more pleasant. That's our old dog, Molly, on the left, resting on her special fleece-covered egg-crate dog bed. And that's Hershey on the right, covered with one of my t-shirts and resting on my pillow. But I don't spoil them, nosiree!

I don't walk outside with them, as Greta does with hers. Molly and Hershey have the run of our property and they know their limits; I'd hate to teach them that they can extend their boundaries into the road and beyond.

I've taken the last three days off from heavy exercise, opting instead for a short post office-and-back walk or – gasp! – nothing at all. But this morning I woke up feeling like it's a Rocky kinda day. I'll be doing a long run and shaking hands with a dumbbell or two. The weird thing is, I can't wait!

Thanks so much for all the recent comments. We love comments! I've been using Google Reader to track my favorite blogs, and I try to click and comment, but I must admit it's easier not to.

Must. Start. Doing. That. More. Often.

After all, why should I expect you to talk to me if I don't carry on a conversation with you?