Rainy Sunday

Rain and hail in Melbourne this morning. It was cold, too, where it has even been, kind of, warm this last week.

It is the kind of day to build a fire, make hot chocolate and bring up the next season of American Horror Story on Netflix. (Maybe, I could give the Aretha playlist a rest now) 

Buddy is in my lap, I'm sitting on the floor, forcing my legs into the body cast position, he's not a chihuahua, after all. He likes to be warm.

Sam and I are sitting at the coffee table, laptop next to laptop. Eggs and smoked salmon, avocado and toast were what was on the breakfast menu.

Sunday, of course is cleaning day, so Heir Sam reminds me with the words, "Don't get too comfortable." Sometimes, I think I might dress him up as Hitler and invade him, he can be so bossy. Oh, I guess, it'd be me getting invaded. Back into the Poland suit, again, I guess. 

Sam's watching me write this, but he isn't reading what I am writing. Buddy distracts him, when I think he might focus in on my words. Ha ha. That is what I say to his bossiness. Ha ha. Actually, calling him Adolf usually gives him an attitude adjustment.

I vacuumed. Sam polished the woodwork. I sugar soaped the bathroom walls, they'd needed it for a long time.

The sun came out, it rained, the sun came out.

We took Buddy to the dog park in the afternoon. Dogs need to exercise no matter what the weather. The sun came out again, so off we went in the sunny window. Five black and white dogs and ginger Bud in the park, so we left. Ha ha. The wind started to blow bitterly cold, so we walked to the supermarket. I sat on the edge of the garden, Bud stood at my feet off his lead watching the world go by. Everyone thinks he's too cute sitting with me off his lead.