Am reminded of fierce Celt warriors who rushed into battle sans shirt, trousers, and undergarments after I read book, Shocked. Famous designer Schiaparelli, according to author, responsible for modern underwear for women, due to bicycles being main mode of transportation before and and after WWII. As avid bicyclist, am quite sympathetic with efforts to make experience more comfortable. Before War, women riders subject to chapped lips, and great quantities of fresh air.
(Muse over phrase ‘going commando’ and wonder whether Celts had anything to do with its coining. Would not like to think of them riding bicycles into battle in traditional war dress, or lack of it).
Am filled with delight when dear Sugar leans against me after dinner preparation, gazes up at me with adoration, and begins to lick my hand. Realize belatedly that I have chicken on hand and think of title for potential song: Is It Love Or Is It Chicken?
After family comes home, I read aloud something I’d written, seeking feedback. Evenings typically reserved by dear Sugar as play time. She leans chin on edge of bed, looks me straight in eye, and sighs loudly. Am reminded of middle-school girl who has been asked to delay gratification of some request.
Displays regrettable tendency to bring rocks inside from backyard, and appears to thoroughly enjoy taste and texture. This practice not only strange, but likely to result in severe injury to bare feet. She perseveres with odd fetish even when provided with more suitable items to chew. Remember that she used to bring me her poop when she was a puppy. Display of pride and accomplishment when depositing this in my lap very admirable, but misplaced.
(Note to self: Sugar enthusiastic rockhound. Consult psychic (or perhaps exorcist?) to ascertain whether she may be reincarnation of unknown, deceased geologist).
Rocks frequently get in way when walking about house, but today as Sugar lay on bed, she threw rock on my foot as I passed by. Accuracy of aim most laudable, but am left wondering if she is member of a different political party from mine, or if she has heard me say something about her that was less than complimentary. Perhaps this is canine warning of expectation of sharing in monetary benefits should she become famous from blog.
Thought processes of animals very difficult to follow.