Snow, ice and foggy. Dogs in an up-roar over the contractor tearing out the ceiling of the stair well.
Poor little fellow is so use to being ejected to the mud room when strangers are about.
I’m having a problem today. I’ve performed my occasional trick of blindsiding the dictionary for a word or words that I must then use somewhere in a post to the blog.
This morning, having changed my mind about leaving the house to the contractor, I turned to Windows Live Writer and found myself without subject or content. Up came the dictionary, rejected was googling for writing prompts.
And the word? Um. Well. It was consomme.
And here I thought, all a long, that the cup of broth I so enjoy was just that, boiled meat broth. Yeah, I strain it also.
Dwelling on it, I don’t think curling my little finger while indulging would be worth while.
From the reaches,