Play Time Comfort

Play time is very important, and as we grow older, it becomes even more important and precious. We plan to play; it has to be scheduled in between work, the laundry, cleaning the house, and buying the groceries. And every now and then, even those times that seem like play, come out of some kind of responsibility. But play is play, and it should be enjoyed no matter the circumstances.

One of those responsibilities where I get to play while on duty is helping out with crafts at the Teen Center at our church. Once or twice a month, a couple of us crafty-type people think up something for the kids to do. Making cards, decoupaging clay pots with pictures from magazines, decorating cookies, painting picture frames, we’re always trying to come up with an easy but not too “childish” project for these teens. It’s a bit of a struggle for me because I make everything a struggle for myself. I can’t just relax and enjoy doing some crafts, I have to worry about if it’s too difficult or if it’s too easy or if the kids will like it. But come to find out, these kids love to do any kind of craft. I could have them trace their hands and make a turkey out of it and they would enjoy it.

I tend to tell people that I’m only crafty if I have directions on how to do it in front of me. I said that to the Teen Center director, but she’s so desperate for volunteers that she didn’t listen and just sent me emails saying when she had scheduled craft day. Luckily, there’s another lady who helps out, but she, too, describes herself as direction-driven. But for women who say they aren’t really crafty, we sure come up with some good stuff. So, this little responsibility has been very good for me in an unexpected way—it’s let me embrace my crafty self.

So, it’s play time! We’ve decided to let the kids make scarves out of fleece and embellish them to their hearts’ content. Fleece is the perfect material for this because you don’t need to hem it, just cut and go. Even the fringe is easy. This serves double duty, by the way: they get to do a craft and they get something they to keep them warm this winter. I decided that part of my stress comes from not being prepared. I have ideas and pictures in my head of what they could do, but I never actually play around with it and come up with a sample for them. I haven’t worked with fleece, so I decided I should try it out before I let the kids loose on it.

I gave myself permission to play first and work out what I wanted. I even sketched out what I was thinking first. Then I tried out different supplies and different techniques. I wanted to show them how they could appliqué a shape on with an easy buttonhole or blanket stitch, in addition to just gluing stuff on or painting on it. I had a great time, just look:





Trying out different things on a scrap piece.


I ended up doing hearts instead of flowers.


Close up of the hearts


I’ve realized that there needs to be some time between idea and finished project for some experimentation and play. I always tried to skip that middle part and would end up frustrated that I wasn’t getting what I wanted immediately. I just needed more play time!


And to brighten your day (and mine), a few pictures of Cosette

Needing Good Thoughts

We need your prayers and good thoughts for our friend Steve who is in the hospital. He's very sick, and it doesn't look good.

Steve is Al's motorcycle riding buddy. Despite his illness, he would meet Al and they'd ride all over this side of Nebraska and Iowa. Several times they would stop by our house and we'd spend hours sitting around the kitchen table talking and laughing. He shared Al's love of motorcycles and my love of cooking, dogs, and having a creative outlet. He also had a sympathetic understanding of dealing with a chronic disease, and we bonded over tests, medications, and the frustration/necessity of taking things one day at a time.

We knew he was pretty sick, but his strength and attitude made it easy for us not to think about it. But he called tonight, wanting to let us know what was going on and to tell Al that even if they get tests back and can do something, his riding days are over.

So, please keep good thoughts for Steve and we'll do the same.

Thank you.

Good News All Around

Sorry I haven't been around. It was just so exciting seeing our new president being sworn in and seeing so many people filled with the audacity of hope.

Plus, there's more good news. You might not have known that it's been a little stressful around here as we waited to see what the military was going to do with Al--move him or keep him here. Well, I'm happy to say we are staying here. They've extended him for another year and by the time they could give him another assignment, he'll be well within the window to put in his papers to retire, if that's what he wants to do. That decision changes daily; luckily, he doesn't have to decide right now.

But, we don't have to sell the house this spring! We don't have to rush to get the last of the updates done. We'll be here for the next Scotland trip with our friends from the Dell. We can go down to Kansas City for the Highland Games and maybe stay a few extra days. We can take some small trips. I can find a part-time job. I get to stay with my doctor. Cosette gets to stay with her vet. Al gets to stay with his motorcycle buddies. I can sign up for some classes I've been wanting to take. I can make plans for . . . hell, I can just make plans.

So, 2009 has started out pretty well. I feel like the gods are trying to tell me to keep up the energy that's already been started here. I better get busy!

In Stitches

Properly practiced, knitting soothes the troubled spirit, and it doesn't hurt the untroubled spirit, either. ~Elizabeth Zimmerman

Years ago, Al was diagnosed and successfully treated for testicular cancer. He has been cancer-free for almost 12 years, but I remember every minute of sitting in those cold waiting rooms while he went through more scans and while doctors reviewed the results before talking to us. “The Price Is Right” was showing in every room, and to this day I can’t listen to the theme music for that show.

I always had a book with me, but I couldn’t concentrate long enough to read even a page. I tried crossword puzzles, but same problem. So, I mostly just sat there, tapping my foot. Near the end of his treatment, he had to have a long surgery to remove the scar tissue, and I knew that I would have to find something to do with my hands. I could hand-stitch quilt pieces together, but that would take a lot of prep work to cut out the pieces first. I decided to fall back on cross-stitch, an old favorite. During his over-6-hour surgery, I finished an old project and gave it to a friend for Christmas. Cross-stitch was the perfect thing for me at that time because it kept my hands busy and following a simple pattern was about all the concentration I could handle. Besides, the repetition of making those Xs was comforting some how. I haven’t done much cross-stitch since.

Flash forward some 6 years or so. After trying quilting again, honing my cooking/baking skills (gaining 40 pounds in the process), playing with paper and stamps making scrapbooks, and writing bits and pieces of a novel that wasn’t going any where, I took a good friend’s advice and tried knitting. My mother had tried to teach me when I was a teenager, but I didn’t like it, probably because I wasn’t good at it immediately and my pattern was to quit and move on to something else. I believe it was cross-stitch, actually. Anyway, I got the book Stitch and Bitch, some needles, and yarn and got started. Something my mother taught me must have been hiding in my subconscious because it came very easy to me. Not only that, I liked it! I felt I had found the craft for me, the one I could concentrate on and get really good at while still loving what I was doing.

As a bonus, learning to knit came at a time when I really needed something to keep me from cracking up. Yes, I say that flippantly, but for a couple of years there, I don’t know how I kept it all together. Actually I do know how, I knitted. I obsessively focused on learning how to knit, playing with yarn and learning how to follow a pattern. I won’t go so far as to say knitting saved my life, but it came damn close.

When I thought things were getting ready to turn around for me, I had an MRI done, expecting a migraine but finding lesions, the first step in diagnosing MS. Thus, I started spending a lot of time in waiting rooms again. The diagnosis process is a long one for MS, mostly because it is difficult to diagnose. One of these days, I’ll write more about why that is, but the point is that I now had something to do in the waiting rooms and at home while I waited for test results. As long as I followed simple patterns, I could easily sit and knit for as long as it took. Unfortunately, I couldn’t knit while in the MRI machine nor while getting a lumbar puncture.

It’s a testament to how much I love knitting that I haven’t turned away from it after my diagnosis and after things started to turn around for me. Whereas I can’t watch “The Price is Right” nor do I have any desire to cross-stitch, I happily continue to knit. I haven’t ignored the fact that I have a disease that could affect my dexterity, but luckily, my case is pretty mild and it hasn’t interfered too much. Actually, knitting is a pretty good gauge of how I’m doing. Sometimes, even on a bad day I can knit as long as it is a simple pattern not requiring a lot of concentration or the need to follow a chart. Then there are those days when I knit even a simple row over and over again and can’t get it right. We all have bad days, but I know that when I can’t complete a simple knit 2 purl 2 rib, something else might be going on and I should pay attention. But even on a bad day, I can listen to a knitting podcast (yes, there is such a thing) or look at a magazine to plan my next project. Sometimes, it’s just a bad day.

And now, knitting will help Join the Movement by raising money for MS research. At both of The Knitting Guild of America’s (TKGA) 2009 Knit & Crochet Shows in Portland, OR and Buffalo, NY, a silent auction will be held, featuring socks by various designers. Socks are a favorite project and an obsession with many knitters, so this is a wonderful idea. Proceeds will go to The National MS Society (NMSS). In their statement, the NMSS said, “The mission of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society is to end the devastating effects of MS. Support from organizations like CGOA (Crochet Guild of America), TKGA and the Knit & Crochet Shows helps us to pursue new treatments so that no one will have to forgo the pleasure of being able to participate in activities that are so rewarding.”

Maybe knitting really is a life saver.

Another little life saver who wants to take a nap with Al.



My latest project--a market bag

Yes, You Can Make Bread

Love artisan breads, but in this economy, don’t want to spend the money? Want to make your own bread but are afraid of the yeast? Want to eat hot, fresh loaves of bread but don’t want to put in the effort? Come over to the yeasty side, my friends.

Al and I have discovered No Kneading Bread. It’s been around for awhile, but we were reminded of it in an article in Mother Earth News and decided to give it a try.

I was leery. I’ve made bread and enjoyed it, but it’s an all day event and a lot of work, which is why I don’t do it often. This article made it sound practically, well, easy. How could it be good and easy? That’s why we buy frozen rolls at Thanksgiving—because they are good and easy, easier than praying that the rolls rise. It’s why we make quick breads—no yeast equals quick and easy. So, I was skeptical.

Al, however, was gung ho. He went to Breadtopia and watched the videos and got the recipe. The only thing you really should have that everyone might not have is a cast iron Dutch oven or a terra cotta baker with a domed lid (called a la croche). Otherwise, it’s easy peasy. And yes, it tasted good, really good. It was crusty on the outside, with a soft, holey crumb on the inside.

I can hear you saying, “Get on with it! Just tell me how to do it!” OK, OK, jeez. I’ll tell ya, but you might want to go to Breadtopia to see the instructional video.

The ingredients are

3 cups bread flour
¼ teaspoon instant yeast (We didn’t get instant, so we bloomed it with a ¼ cup of lukewarm water)
1 ½ teaspoon salt
1 ½ cups water (actually, the recipe called for purified or spring water, but pffffft. Our tap water is pretty darn good)

So, here’s what you do:

1. If you didn’t get instant yeast, mix the yeast in about a ¼ cup lukewarm water, just to give it a head start.
2. Mix the dry ingredients together (if using instant yeast, that’s included in this step).
3. Mix in the water until it is incorporated. The dough will be wet and sticky.
4. Cover with plastic and let it sit at room temperature for 18 hours.

Here's what it looks like in the bowl after 18 hours:



5. Scrape that yeasty goodness onto a well floured surface. Flour your hands and the top of the dough, then press it into a rectangle.
6. From the short side, fold a third of the dough onto itself, then fold the other third of the dough on top of that first fold, so you’ll have a rectangle. Then fold it in half to form a square.



7. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let sit for 15 minutes.
8. Dust a kitchen towel with flour and transfer the dough to the towel or into a proofing basket (which is basically a basket with a towel), cover with another towel and let rise for 1 ½ hour.
9. With the Dutch oven in it, preheat the oven to 500 degrees.
10. Flour your hands and form the risen dough into a ball.



Put the dough into Dutch oven and bake for 30 minutes.
11. Remove the lid, reduce heat to 450 degrees, and bake for an additional 15 minutes.



12. Let cool completely, for at least 45 minutes, on a rack.



13. Reward yourself for waiting by eating a thick, warm slice with butter and honey.



We were so excited about this lovely little loaf we had created that we wanted to try all of our favorite things on it. While Al went to the store for a bottle of wine and tomatoes, I cut up a platter of leftover prime rib, ham, cheddar cheese, mozzarella cheese, and summer sausage.



I also poured a small bowl of olive oil and balsamic vinegar and got out the butter, jam, peanut butter, and honey. When Al got home, we just ate ourselves into oblivion. I have to say, that my favorite was the peanut butter and honey. It reminded me of the 15th anniversary Al and I celebrated at this lovely bed and breakfast outside of Ohio called The Murphin Ridge Inn. It was in the middle of an Amish settlement, so they used bread and other things made by the Amish. The Inn owners offered a box lunch of thick slices of Amish white bread, slathered with peanut butter and honey. I’m salivating just thinking about that sandwich.

Since this first trial, we’ve made 2 more loaves—one with dried cranberries and walnuts (my favorite so far) and one with Asiago cheese. And the house smells amazing.





So, give it a try. There aren’t many more things as comforting as warm bread with butter and jam and a cup of coffee, unless, of course, it’s bread with peanut butter and honey.

And for your amusement, here's a picture of Cosette enjoying her Christmas present from Uncle Jay and Grandma.

And Another Big Thank You

Thank you to The Background Fairy. While I was at over at The Knitting Contessa and admiring her site, I discovered that I, too, could have a pretty background on my blog just by going over to The Background Fairy's site. She has samples with the instructions and code that you just copy and paste into the html of your Blogger blog.

The button for the her site didn't come through, but I'm working on that. Until then, you can use the link in the post to check her out.

Big Thank You

Thank you Jay for the awesome header!

"Do they still play games on Christmas?"

At Christmas play and make good cheer, for Christmas comes but once a year. --Thomas Tusser

I had been making a joke for a month or so that since you should be with your family at Christmas, we should go to the Dundee Dell, since that’s where we have good friends and spend a lot of our free time. Ha ha ha, our family is the local bar. Well, I was partially serious because we didn’t have anything to do any way, until our neighbor called and asked if we’d like to come over for dessert late Christmas afternoon. Al was disappointed that I said yes because if he has a choice between a warm pub with a wee dram and a house full of loud teenagers, guess which one he’ll choose. Come to think of it, a lot of people probably would’ve chosen the pub, too, but what could I do? It just doesn’t seem polite to turn down an invitation to spend Christmas with someone.

Besides, our neighbors are great. All five kids, plus a son-in-law and one of the girl’s boyfriend were there. The oldest is married and also brought their new dog, the next two girls are in college and home on Christmas break, their 15-year-old son is the one who mows our yard, and their youngest son is 10, I think.

When we arrived, there was a bustle of excitement while they finished getting all the dinner dishes together. The atmosphere was the definition of “jovial.” Everyone was still basking in the warmth of a Christmas dinner and family time around the dinner table. Their house looked like Christmas had exploded. Wrapping paper, tissue paper, clothes, DVDs, games were in small piles around the living room, obviously representing each person’s haul. While Christmas carols played on the stereo, the older kids cleaned up the dinner dishes while the younger ones ran down to the basement to get another game of Rock Band in before dessert, and the parents and we had a glass of wine. The dad said they went around and opened one present at a time, and with nine people, it took a couple of hours, especially once you add in the time for appropriate ooohing and ahhhing.

Then the big decision had to be made—should we eat dessert then play a game while we drank coffee or eat dessert while we played the game. Considering how good that pumpkin pie smelled, everyone was all for dessert first. When playing a game was mentioned, I glanced over at Al who had that look on his face that said, “You didn’t tell me we were gonna have to play a game.” It’s worth mentioning that I love playing board games, but Al does not, especially, the “trivial” games where you answer questions. I think it’s because he’s just so damn intelligent that he gets bored. See, ya gotta be clueless like me to enjoy the public act of humiliation of trying to answer a question your average 16 year old would know. To make matters worse, the game was “The Battle of the Sexes,” which would really irritate Al. It pits the women against the men, answering questions that supposedly the opposite sex would know.

Now, a game called “Battle of the Sexes” is inherently sexist. The premise alone lets you know that someone is going to feel insulted, and that person was me. In this game, the men ask the women questions that a man would know, and the women ask questions that a woman would know. There were the obvious cosmetics questions for the men and sports questions for the women, but here’s what really ticked me off. Of the questions we had in this one game, the questions for the men were all focused on movies and gossipy things, while the questions for the women were about history and computers. Here’s some examples so you’ll get a better idea what I’m talking about:

(Questions for the women are in red, questions for the men are in blue.)

What 2 colors combine to make pink?

What does Blog stand for?

What does PMS stand for?

Who is the architect of some PGA golf course? (can’t remember which ones mentioned)

What actress flashed her breasts at a late-night TV host?

What year marked the 50th anniversary of the proclamation of Israeli independence? (We guessed 1997, but it was 1998)

Here’s the weird thing, the women won! I’m still not sure how that happened. I think the end of the game wasn’t the objective, so pawns didn't get moved and we lost track of how many places to move the pawns. Plus, we got lucky on some wild cards. The objective was to be together, have a good time, and laugh at the bizarre answers we would come up with. I admit to getting a little frustrated when I couldn’t answer something like what blog stands for because there were so many people talking I could think, but then I had to try to step back and realize what the true objective of the game was—to have fun.

After the game, I decided Al had done his time and we should head home. He had decided that, too, and we bundled up to walk back home. After rounds of “thank you” and “so glad you could come over” and “thanks for including us,” we walked back to our house. We were greeted by a sleepy Cosette, who decided to wake up enough to play one more time with her Christmas presents.

When I was a kid, before my parents split, we had big Christmases like that, too. My dad’s extended family is pretty big and everyone lived close by, so it was usually easy for all of us to converge at my grandmother’s house or some other brave person’s home. Lots of food, lots of drink, lots of packages, lots of noise and chaos, so being at our neighbor’s house made me kind of homesick, even though I haven’t had a Christmas like that in years. I’m not sure I was homesick as much as I was lamenting how long it had been. Al was glad to return to the quiet and calm of our home, but I was missing that chaos. People say they envied my quiet, stress-free Christmases of just the two of us, yet that night I envied the lively bedlam of a large family celebrating. Um. Go figure.

Christmas 2008

Christmas is for children. But it is for grownups too. Even if it is a headache, a chore, and nightmare, it is a period of necessary defrosting of chill and hide-bound hearts.
--Lenora Mattingly Weber

I'm not ready for it to be Christmas. I don't mean I still have shopping or wrapping or anything like that, I mean I don't want it to be Christmas yet. I want another week to enjoy it all some more. What with Thanksgiving being so late and the ice storm and snow we've had, there just didn't seem to be enough time to really enjoy the season. I'm not ready for the commercials to be over or the Christmas shows or the Christmas movies to stop running. The radio station will return to it's usual line up and the stores will throw all their Christmas stuff into big bargain bins.

No, I'm not ready for it to be Christmas, but here it is. So, I'll enjoy these last couple of days to the fullest, literally and figuratively considering the dinner I'm planning.

I also didn't post as much as I wanted to this season. So, here are some photos to illustrate what's been going on this festive season.

Decorated for Christmas. We got a bigger tree last year, so I bought more ornaments at the after-Christmas sales last year. I got frustrated while decorating, thinking it looked awful, then I turned on the lights. Oh, it was so pretty. It's amazing how prettier it looks with lights on.




Christmas baking--I love this part of the season. I didn't do as much as I usually do. But it still kept me busy.



I baked for Al's office, making the usual Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies and Chocolate Chip Snowballs





I also made the easiest candy ever. Here's the recipe: Melt a 12-oz package of semi-sweet chocolate chips, stir in 1 cup of peanut butter, stir in a cup or so of dry roasted, salted peanuts. Spoon into mini muffin cups, then put in to refrigerator until cool and solid. I put them in muffin tins, but you don't really have to.



The craftroom exploded with presents, packaging, and wrapping.



Made my first Gingerbread House. I used a kit to make it easier on myself. Next year, I'm doing my own thing. I might even make it while everyone is here for Thanksgiving so they can join in the fun.





Took Christmas photos of Cosette. Some might call it torture, but we gave her the treats we were holding in front of her to make her stay.





Until she just couldn't take it any more.



Knitted presents--neckwarmers, the cutest hat ever, and an afghan for the in-laws.







Had our first snow, but it started out as mostly ice. It's still around since our temperatures haven't risen much above 10 degrees.



Cosette looked out the frosted storm door.



Enjoyed a glass of Samual Smith's Winter Warmer Christmas Ale



And enjoyed a Christmas Brunch with friends.



It was a pretty full holiday season!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Antici............pation

For Christmas is tradition time-- Traditions that recall
The precious memories down the years,
The sameness of them all.--Helen Lowrie Marshall

Recently, I attended a United Methodist Women’s Christmas brunch at our church. I felt a little silly going since I haven’t been exactly enthralled with our church lately, but that’s my problem, and I’ll try to figure it out some day. Like every good Southern woman, I’ll think about that tomorrow.

So, I braved the single digit temperatures, 30 miles per hour wind gusts, blowing snow and low visibility to go to this brunch. I told Al was going to be brave this winter and not let fear of driving on snowy roads stop me from keeping appointments and commitments. Stupid pride. Al said, “We bought the Element so you could get around in the snow.” Yes, the Element can get around in the snow, but I never actually said I would get around in the snow.

But I digress (again), so I got there and it was very nice. I had said I would greet people as they came in and I would talk about a Christmas tradition, following the theme of the brunch. Despite having blocked out a lot of my growing up years, I do have fond Christmas memories, and the tradition I decided to talk about was our Christmas Chains.

When Mom and Dad split up, Mom spent a lot of energy making Christmas special, so we wouldn’t think too much about how different it was going to be. Mom incorporated many traditions into each Christmas: painting ornaments, driving around to see the Christmas lights, singing Christmas carols, reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, and relenting (to my whining) to keep putting our gifts out after we had gone to sleep because it was just more magical that way. But her brilliance came with the Christmas Chain.

Like most kids, we drove her crazy with “how many days ‘til Christmas” questions. We didn’t have advent calendars, but we had construction paper, scissors and tape. So, she had us each make a chain, each link representing a day until Christmas. Then, each night Jay and I would tear off a link, and we would be a day closer to Christmas. The chains had their place of prominence, taped to a wall, and it was so exciting to see them getting shorter. This may have been the beginning of my love of anticipation and my inevitable crash with post-event depression.

I get all giddy just thinking of tearing each of those links off. I think we started that tradition before Dad left, but we carried it on for a long time. Even when I knew exactly how many days it was until Christmas, I enjoyed counting those links. Of course, Jay and I were so competitive and we fought over every thing, so we had to tear those links off at the exact same time because it was unfair if someone tore one off before the other. Therefore, it was quite a ceremony to tear off those links.

Now my days until Christmas are counted by how many shipping days are left until it will cost a fortune to get it there overnight. Or how late can I get those Christmas cards out and still get them delivered before Christmas. It’s a whole new kind of anticipation.

As a visual reference for my story to the ladies at the brunch, I made a chain. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but I made a chain with 6 links, exactly how many days it was until Christmas. Every time I look at it, I get that same sense of excitement, that same feeling of anticipation I got as a kid.

I’ve been tearing a link off each night.

Cold Comfort

One morning a couple of weeks ago, I just couldn’t face walking Cosette around the neighborhood again, so I we went to the park. There were several parks to choose from, but I decided to go somewhere new for her, and we went to Two Rivers State Park.



It was around 32 degrees and the wind was blowing, making it feel like 22 degrees. I decided to walk around one of the lakes but questioned my sanity when we stepped out of the car and a wind gust took my breath away. I was wishing I had my scarf, why didn’t I think to wear a scarf? I knit and have several scarfs! Sheesh. Cosette didn’t care at all, but then she has a fur coat. She was excited to be some place new and immediately headed to a trail around the lake. We didn’t cover much land quickly because she could smell the horses that had passed through before and was a little overwhelmed. It took a little while to get into the groove of walking and sniffing.



As we walked, the wind stopped being a hindrance and became an enhancement. The quiet around us was interrupted by the sound of wind cutting through the bare limbs and ruffling the leftover leaves still clinging to stay on. Cosette skipped along, happy in the great outdoors and reveling in all the smells. I felt warmer, maybe from the activity of walking or maybe from the comfort of walking my dog on a crisp Fall morning, anticipating family coming for Thanksgiving and the warmth of a busy kitchen.

Whatever the reason, we were having a grand time. Cosette barked at tall weeds that were moving in the wind. It must be alive! Therefore, she must bark and run away, then cautiously walk towards them until they move again, then bark and run away. With one final huff, we moved on to a new spot in the park.



During the summer, this park is pretty full, but today it was as if it was our private play ground. We walked towards the shoreline of the river because being a hound, Cosette must sniff the brambles and edges for critters. We walked along, then in unison looked up into the trees ahead of us. A trail! We both ran for it and into the small forest. The trail quickly became covered with leaves and was indistinguishable but that didn’t stop Cosette from hoping over downed limbs and zig zagging through the trees. I stopped, wondering if they allowed deer hunting in this park. It was around 7:30 in the morning during deer season and I was walking with a hyper dog in a wooded area without a reflector vest on either of us. Just to be safe, I steered us back to the entrance. Of course, I couldn’t find that trail, but we hadn’t gone that far and Cosette knew how to get out. Or at least she acted like she did.

We walked around a little more then headed back to the car. Neither one of us was ready to leave, really, but hunger was a stronger instinct at that point than the need to be outdoors. As we drove home, the dog who whined most of the way to the park was silent in the backseat. She stared out the window for awhile, then curled up on the seat and sighed the most satisfying sigh I’ve ever heard. And so did I.