Puppy Pants

Home a bit more than a month, but the first three weeks were spent at G’ma and G’pa’s while Margaret’s day job was cleaning the discombobulated ant farm that used to be our apartment. The idea of subletting over the summer was so that we wouldn’t have to move again, but the two floods mixed our furniture around nicely.

And then there was Ol’ Drippy.

Well, it’s more feng shui-ed and functional than ever before, now, and clean. What we had going before was really a temporary just-got-married-in-the-middle-of-the-semester indoor camping sort of thing, anyhow.

Oh, and now we have a puppy. Miniature dachshund (dash hound, if you’re G’ma Jann) we named Röschti. It was going to be Lorette, after our street in Paris, but the Utahn glottal stop just kept murdering it. Swiss hash browns make a cuter allusion, anyway.

She is nice. She is currently asleep in my pants. She does this whenever I go to the bathroom.

Yes, I am typing this from the bathroom. Stop judging me, for once…

~ by John and Margaret FORBYN on 8 October 2009.