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.

Turn Away While I Celebrate Will You Tolerate While I Waste The Day Away?

It wasn't a responsible decision, to go to a pub to watch the Canucks game on a Wednesday night, but it was a fun decision. The atmosphere was muted at the start but the back-and-forth momentum changes in the game soon had the entire pub whipped up into a hockey frenzy (upon reflection, I'll admit that the alcohol may have played a small role.) When the Canucks scored late in the 3rd and finally took the lead, the pub erupted in a cacophony of hoots and whistles that lasted until after the final horn.

I love hockey. I am a true fan - I root for my team when they're losing and I happily welcome back the bandwagon-jumpers when the team is winning. Tuesday's disallowed goal was ridiculous and I'll admit to unleashing a string of profanity when the call was made. That one call didn't lose the game for the Canucks, though, and the bitching and moaning that occurred afterward did nothing but make us look like poor losers. Last night's game was more than a chance for the Canucks to tie the series at two games apiece; it was a chance for the fans (whether long-term or short-term, steadfast or fickle, zealous or laid-back) to stop focusing on bad calls and conspiracy theories and just fucking celebrate. And celebrate we did. We stumbled home exchanging high-fives with random strangers, attempting to eat dirty pizza on the train, and laughing at the gems that came out of Shawn's mouth (my personal favourite: "Swedish power activate! I'm going to Ikea tomorrow.") (I guess that's only funny if you know that our top line consists of three Swedes. And that Shawn hates Ikea more than, well, anything.)

This morning I woke up with an inexplicably sore foot, a bruise on my wrist, a hangover that rivals my worst hangover ever, and a brother-in-law asleep on our couch. So no, it was not a responsible decision by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a decision I don't regret. Not even a little.

Now will someone please make me a baked potato and some tea? I'm pretty sure that a baked potato and tea are the only things that will keep me from dying this morning.

Just Beat It Beat It Beat It Beat It No One Wants To Be Defeated - Take 10

So I'm all caught up on the road trip shenanigans and I haven't faffed in a while. Let's faff, shall we? We'll call this one Friday Faff: The Catch Up Edition.

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The puppies came home the day after we arrived home from the road trip. They had been separated for a week (our families can only handle one pup each. Amateurs!) We brought Stella home first and it was adorable / heartbreaking to watch her race around the condo looking for Wolfgang. I have never seen the puppies so happy as they were when we reunited them. They practically vibrated with joy.

Wolfgang has become a bit clingy since we've been home. We've started calling him the stage five clinger (which is only funny if you've seen Wedding Crashers and if you haven't seen Wedding Crashers you probably should because it is hilarious.) He follows me from room to room, not letting me out of his sight. He has started jumping into my lap if I'm sitting at the kitchen table (which is impressive because our table is bar-height so it's quite the leap for him.) I got out of the shower yesterday and saw tiny little Wolfgang paws reaching under the bathroom door. It's funny but on the brink of becoming very annoying.

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Turtle made me a chocolate / beet cake for my birthday. I don't have any pictures to prove it but I totally ate a giant slice of it and it's counting for my October beets. Chocolate / beet cake is not awesome (sorry, lady) because once someone tells you that it's beet cake you can totally taste the beets, but it's not as gross as it sounds. You wouldn't know about the beets if you weren't told.

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I went out last Friday for some birthday shenanigans. Cat's birthday is the date after mine so we gathered a group of friends and went out for a civilized dinner. Which quickly turned into a not-so-civilized dinner when the pub we wanted to go to was full (a pub where I would have been drinking pumpkin beer, which means that I would have had 2 drinks because I can only manage to drink 2 pints of pumpkin beer and then I'm over it) and we ended up at a restaurant we'd never been to before and they had pitchers of cocktails on special and they had a special Pimm's cocktail on the menu and I love Pimm's and then someone started buying tequila shots. My head was very hurty the next morning. It was big fun, though. If you can't act like a drunken ass on your birthday, when can you act like a drunken ass?

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Last weekend was birthday shenanigans and two family dinners to make up for missing Thanksgiving while we were road tripping and a massive hangover and puppy love. This weekend will be vacuuming and homework and cleaning out my closet to donate old clothes. The old lady in me is really looking forward to it.

Have a great weekend, peeps! See you Monday.