Sept. 20: Hazelnut Cookies

Anyone want a dog?

Because I don't.

Our lives have been turned upside down with the stress that arrived with Sammy the Havanese. I don't know how much more clear I can be: I. Don't. Want. This. Dog.

I'm not a dog-hater. I just don't have the time or energy to deal with housebreaking the puppy my mother-in-law had to have but wouldn't train. Even Ian, who loves Sammy, announced amid tears Saturday night: "I want to take Sammy back to Grandma Willie!"

Her idea of training him was to put puppy piddle pads all over her house (including on her bed). So, now he thinks he's supposed to pee on throw rugs. And on my carpet. He takes toys and clothes. He and Ian ransack the house. He terrorizes the cat (who got revenge on us by peeing in James' closet.) He barks in the middle of the night. He won't go outside. Then he won't come back in. He has the potential to be a really nice dog someday. But the puppy stage is killing us. And he's not even ours!

We see some signs of progress: He goes to bed without barking or crying at all. He's not stealing laundry any more. He now keeps a safe distance from the cat. And he hasn't pooped in the house in days. But he still sneaks off to pee on rugs. We're constantly trying to keep track of him because I'm sick of scrubbing floors and shampooing carpets.

James explained to his mom that we are not keeping him. If he doesn't work out for her, we can't be her back-up family for Sammy. She would take him home today, but James won't let her--not until he's housebroken and trained. After all the time, expense and energy they put into choosing and moving her into a retirement home, he said he'll be damned if she gets kicked out because of that dog.

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest.

I was up late last night cleaning and baking hazelnut cookies (pg. 37). But now here I am, blogging at 5 a.m. because of that dog. James headed out for fishing and of course, Sammy thought all the noise and lights meant it was time to get up. He started yipping and barking in his crate at 4:20. James couldn't leave fast enough.

A word about the cookies: I paid $8.99 a pound for hazelnuts at Whole Foods. I could have paid $10.99 a pound for roasted hazelnuts. It would have been worth it. What a pain in the butt. Then, what should have been nut "powder" in the food processor turned into nut paste. Don't nuts have oil or moisture of some sort? Powder my ass.

The first batch burned a little on the bottom. Second batch was better. But James liked them. I noticed this morning that they're almost all gone. They sort of grew on me. But they weren't great.

When I wasn't baking cookies last night, I was putting away yet more goodies from Wilma's move. I helped her with some boxes this weekend, and, as I predicted, she overpacked. Her new kitchen is incredibly small. We put away as much as we could. But there are still boxes of stuff to be given away. I brought home four crystal bowls, antique tea cups, a panini grill, a nice candle thing, a small flatscreen TV (for the motyhome bedroom), an old crystal punchbowl with matching cups, another dog leash (we now have four) and a box of dog toys. But does he play with them?

Oh, and I almost forgot my new Maytag laundry machines. I heart them. She has stackables at Shady Lanes. So I got the frontloader washing machine and fancy dryer.

Good thing, with all the rugs I have to wash. Stupid dog.

Sept. 14: Peanut Butter Cookies (Again)

Holy freaking crap.

Since when was sixth grade so hard? My 11-year-old is in tears every night over his homework. I think I'll run away from home. Any of you readers out there have a spare room, a night light and some warm blankets? I'll bring my own books.

The year started out so fresh and new, with him and Sarah heading off to middle school. And then he came home.

In addition to a hysterical sixth-grader, I have a defiant pre-schooler with a superiority complex, a gloomy husband, a howling/pooping/peeing puppy and...well, let me think on it. I'm sure I have more burdens at the moment.

Oh. And one pissed-off 17-year-old cat.

But, dear readers, even though it has been a month since my last posting, I HAVE been baking. Just not cookies. In the past 30 days I have baked three triple-layer chocolate cakes, two bundt cakes, a batch of brownies and six individual molten fallen chocolate cakes. And Sunday night, in honor of the 42-year-old's birthday, I finally baked peanut butter cookies. Again.

I didn't buy him a birthday present. Instead, he bought himself a buffer and a sewing machine. Don't ask.

To catch up on recent events:

1. The RV is a success. We love it. Especially in the rain, wind and cold. We passed the motorhome owner's test by taking DOWN the awning in the middle of the night. In high winds. In the dark. Yay us!

2. School has started. Happy and not happy about it. See intro above.

3. Dave was fabulous as usual. I can't decide if I need to become a professional groupie, a back-up singer, or Dave's second wife. (He doesn't need to divorce the first one. I'm cool with that.)

4. The puppy is not ours and we're not keeping him. He belongs to my mother-in-law. She's in the middle of moving to a retirement community and we've had to face the fact that she has not trained Sammy at all. He's not housebroken. He has no manners. And just 10 minutes ago he ruined one of my sparkle flip-flops. In his first 18 hours in this house, he pooped and peed in the living room, chased the cat, stole a shin guard and howled for two hours during the night. He's really cute and sweet, but God help me, that woman had better get her act together and take him back soon.

5. My calf-building project has failed. I'm returning my ass-kicking boots to Nordstrom this week and hope to find a pair of ass-kickers that actually fit, since, despite my calf workouts, I still don't fill the shaft. Shut up.

6. Farmville has given me a new purpose and passion for life.

I'm determined to get back on the cookie/blogging wagon. We just haven't been home much in the past month. Between motorhome trips, shopping-for-the-motorhome trips, cleaning the motorhome, unpacking the motorhome, getting ready for school, doing homework, going to parties (too much cake, not enough alcohol), and recovering from school, homework, parties and camping, there hasn't been time or energy.

But I have my eye on two hazelnut cookie recipes for the next two weekends. September is, after all, hazelnut month. One thing to be grateful for: With Christian's new schedule, I get to work an hour earlier every day. That's one more hour for trying to get a grip on my life. So tomorrow, I will use that hour walking to Whole Foods for hazelnuts. Once again, not a filbert to be found out here in the culinary backwoods of Western Washington.

You have my word. If there's not another new post by Sunday, I'll do a week's worth of accelerated pre-algebra homework.