And How Eventually Our Hands Will Just Turn To Dust If We Keep Shaking Them Standing Here On This Frozen Lake

My long weekend did not start well. Stella spent Friday vomiting like I've never seen a puppy vomit. It was shocking (and a little impressive) how much liquid managed to come out of her 20lb body. By Saturday she was feeling better and my weekend was salvaged.

I was a bit of a hermit this weekend. I was meant to go to a birthday / going away party on Friday night but I stayed home to mop up vomit instead. It was really nice to just relax with the puppies and go to bed early. Apparently I am 70 years old.

On Sunday morning, the puppies woke me up obscenely early (it was my own fault - I forgot to close the curtains so the room was flooded with light at 6am. I fail at sleeping in.) I tried to go back to sleep but was unsuccessful, so I packed up the car and drove to the lake. It was sunny when I left but by the time we got to the lake it was raining.

The pups didn't mind too much, though.

I live in very a beautiful place.

My favourite part of taking the puppies to the lake is how sleepy they are afterwards. They spent Sunday afternoon napping. At one point Stella was snoring and had a drool puddle forming under her lip.

He kills me. He managed to wrap himself up burrito-style in the blanket and is actually resting his head on Shawn's pillow.

I thought that a staycation (punch!) would be boring. It's true that I did a lot of boring chore-type stuff but I also spent a lot of time relaxing and doing irresponsible things. Like eat ice cream and watch hours of tennis (because I am 70 years old, remember.)

Wolfie is also a fan of the tennis.

I thought I would be jealous of Shawn's fabulous roadtrip but when he walked in the door last night, sunburned and exhausted, I felt a little smug at how well-rested I felt. I'm a fan of the staycation is what I'm saying.