And rain or shine, Jackson thinks I exist for this:
Since muddy feet increase my workload exponentially, I let the dogs out when I think they need a bathroom break, not every time Jackson wants a chance to run around scaring off birds, squirrels and imaginary monsters. It is clear Jackson thinks I am dense and incapable of learning "dog" as he pushes and roots to get me to the door to let him out:
|"Come ON, Mom!"|
Feels like a "soup night." I'm off to make a big batch of hearty potato-kale soup in hopes of having leftovers for Brian's and my lunch tomorrow!
That's it for today from . . .