Chef gave us the day off for good behavior, so I got my hair done. In the middle of the day. Wow.
It's vain. It's superficial. I don't care. My hair is prematurely gray - in the front it's solid white. When I pull it back for work I see my mother. I'm not ready. I don't want to deal. Thanks to Rachelle at Scarlet, I don't have to. It's hot. It's sassy. It will be stuffed under a hat at work because no one wants hair in their pastry or chocolate. And that's ok. It's what's underneath the hat that counts. I feel pretty. I usually don't. I like feeling pretty.
Puppy and I spent the morning at the park. Toward the end of our walk it started raining on us. Puppy, who loves snow and loves to splash around in the ponds and streams is very prissy about being rained upon - she takes great offense, even when there is no thunder. So we were walking very briskly along the lake when I stopped to watch the ducklings. I noticed one of the giant carp swimming up to them. I thought to myself - do carp eat ducklings. That question was answered immediately. Yes. They do. Those ducklings managed to escape being part of the circle of life, but just barely. Puppy had no concern in this drama; she just wanted to get out of the rain. Which turned to hail the moment we reached the car. Somebody up there likes us.