I was making cornbread for dinner. The kind that has creamed corn and sour cream and butter and eggs and cornbread mix. Talking to my sister who was busy making Brunswick stew, I pour the mixture into the prepared 8×8 pan and pop it into the preheated oven. My work is done. But as we chat and I casually clean up bowls and measuring cups I pick up the cornbread box to toss it into the garbage and realize it’s heavy. Heavy with the cornmeal mix still inside. Which means it’s not in the cornbread that’s in the oven. I quickly haul the pan out of the oven, scrape the creamed corn, sour cream and egg mixture out of the pan, stir in the Jiffy Mix, pour it back into the pan and shove it into the oven.

I’m not telling anyone and I hope you can keep a secret.

I’m vacuuming the house in preparation of visitors coming tomorrow. Working my way across the living room I stop to roll the big long red and blue tunnel to the other side of a carpet runner so I can vacuum up the rolling dog fur hiding underneath. It occurs to me that maybe most people don’t have an agility tunnel permanently affixed in their living room.

I kind of feel sorry for those that don’t.

Penny the sheltie-girl is whining to go out. We figure she has to poo so I hook her up to her leash and my sister and I head out to take her for a walk up the street. She puts her foot down at the end of the driveway and refuses to go further. Apparently she only walks up the road if we’re practicing her heeling, including appropriate treats. I have two dusty pieces of kibble in my pocket and that gets us almost to the next driveway but she’s not going further without rewards. My sister picks her up and we carry her past another driveway to the lawn where she likes to do her business. We begin to laugh, because who carries their dog to a neighbor’s lawn in order to get her to poo? We laugh so hard our stomachs hurt, then my sister puts Penny down and she proceeds to do her stuff, which we promptly bag.

And then we all walk happily home.