Woof

Moby luxuriating on the balcony this morning, then back to cowering, just like he did yesterday afternoon. I can hear persistent barking from the walls. Faint, but distinctive and over time, very irritating. Somewhere in the building, a bored and unhappy dog with an endless bark has been voicing complaint all weekend. We suspect this is what is getting right up the Cat's nose. Or ears, as the case may be. It's quiet now, and he's back out and sunning himself. We'll put in our report to the management, to support whomever is next door to this poor dog. We think we know, but can't be sure. It's not an adjacent apartment, but the acoustics here are confusing.

Getting more and more into the habit of cooking at home. Both of us, together. Never an easy task, since we tend to have such different tastes in food, and different ways of working. I'm not a good cook, and don't enjoy any part of the process, from shopping to cleaning up. D gets worried doing more than one thing at a time, the essence of putting together a meal. After nearly twenty years, we seem to have gotten the hang of it, at least with fairly simple meals. It's still a matter of putting in good ingredients and not screwing them up, then hoping for the best.

"Well, we'll cross our fingers..."

"When we come to them."