A harbinger of the season
You know the holidays are upon us when the Wonder Weasels take up residence in the trees. We got another little dusting last night, giving me enough to actually shovel after three straight days of “snow,” but it wasn’t enough to keep Turkish (a.k.a. Turkenstein, The Turkinator, Big Pussy, Mighty Whitey the Wonder Weasel, et al) indoors, where it’s warm and dry.
I myself am having trouble cranking up the required motivation to engage in healthy outdoor exercise, like climbing trees, running or cycling. There’s a brisk wind out of the northeast, it’s still spitting snow, and I don’t sport a thick, furry coat like some of the other creatures inhabiting the DogHaus.
Incidentally, last night’s black bean vegetable soup was edible, but unspectacular, even with a hefty salad and some fresh wheat rolls. What it needed was largish chunks of defunct fellow earth creature: chorizo, Italian sausage, ham, bacon, dark turkey meat, anything along those lines. Vegetables are what food eats.