Today Ben and I went to A Bite of Benton, where you pay $10 for five "bites" of food, drink, or dessert. The desserts were the best: we each had a small cup of Francesco's gelato, plus brought an extra brownie home for later. Now Ben is off to work and I'm back in my office, which I escaped yesterday for a board game night in Albany.
Tiny Weasel is fine and reports that the top layer of sutures (which she chewed out) was quite unnecessary. She's been reintegrated with the other ferrets, who seem pleased to see her again. Here's a video of her drinking water ten minutes ago, to show she is alive and well for those of you who voiced concern (i.e. my mom):
This video, or something close to it, is what Ben pictures happening in my mind whenever I have a vacant look in my eye.
Out on our deck, we've traded our original scrub jay, Peanut, for a new scrub jay who we've named Screech. This morning, Ben came home to find him sitting on the bowl of peanuts screaming his lungs out at two other scrub jays. Even though he sometimes wakes us up at 6 a.m., I prefer Screech to Peanut, as the latter had developed a taste for my strawberries. All of a sudden, my plants seem to be producing a lot more berries.
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