It's been so foggy the past two days here in Milwaukee, we can barely see the end of our block. While the warmth has been a welcome change from the chill we usually have, and the snow is finally - finally! - melting, we've now traded in the massive four-foot piles of "white sh*t" (popular term for snow once February rolls around) for massive piles of mud.
Which Houston likes to trek across the kitchen floor and over the living room rugs. I feel like a permanent paw shiner. She's gotten to the point where she enters the house, sits down on the towel by the door, and lifts her front paw for me to clean, while looking away at the ceiling. You know the old rule - never look a servant in the eye! She's a fast learner, that one. Am now expecting her to refuse future meals unless served in silver bowls over a French lace placemat.
I'm off to South Beach at 6 AM tomorrow for a bachelorette weekend - woo hoo! Guaranteed I will return a few shades whiter than I already am, on Monday.
Tanning was never a strong suit for me. As my mother managed to retain a permanent tan through the winter months (how?), I blame my father. Though he is still under the impression that baby oil, connecting freckles and red skin constitute a "tan."