It’s not just blogging; lately I’ve been taking a break from just about everything that I usually do. My mother came into town on Thursday, and organized chaos ensued in which I essentially went on vacation in the comfort of my own apartment (Nick held down the fort admirably in my non-absence).
I am happy to report that, as a result of her visit, I now have a wedding dress. And no, you may not see it…unless, apparently, you are on Ben’s mailing list, since he got a little excited after I foolishly sent him the catalog photo, and wanted to share the joy.
It’s gorgeous, by the way.
I don’t think that I have the words for how much fun it is to show off my adopted city these days. Mom had seen the main sights years ago, so we got to see and do the real things: the dome of Galleries Lafayette, the open-air markets, wine with lunch, the Grande Epicerie (she is as futilely enthusiastic as I am about intricately decorated sugar cubes and bizarre produce), the Lalique exhibit at the Luxembourg museum, Dalloyeau pastries and Ladurée macaroons, dinner at Chaumette and Mitterand’s regular restaurant, running with the puppy, playing with the puppy, cuddling with the puppy, and trying to eat dinner without the puppy going ballistic.
Mom really liked the puppy.
Jolie herself has been growing and getting smarter every day. The upside is that this means that she now reliably signals us when she needs to go outside; the downside is that the stupid signal keeps changing. Just when we’ve learned to vigilantly watch for her to, for example, sniff the door as she trots past it, she switches to, say, barking at us once, looking bored for five minutes, and then peeing on the rug.
We’re still working on that one.
She is also getting quite good at responding to purely verbal commands, which is much more pleasant than having to tug her into position by her leash all the time. She is far more reliable these days with “No” and “Viens” (although a sing-song “You can’t get me!” usually works even better), and is spookily good at the more complicated ones, such as “Let’s go home,” “Go lie down,” and “Kill the pigeon!”
She has graduated from her playpen to the kitchen when we are out (for some reason she won’t pee in there), and has been sleeping a little longer each night. She is horrified by our new bed, since she can’t jump up onto it by herself, and has taken to wobbling over to me when Nick corrects her, and vice versa. I’m so impressed with her scheming that it’s usually all that I can do not to cave immediately.
And Nick bought a moped, which he’s been craving forever, so that he can be home sooner in the evening.
And I have a wedding dress.
And now you are all caught up.