My momma has coined a new phrase. When she needs to go flop on the couch, or her meds are wearing off, she announces "I am shingling!". You know, at first listen that sounds really interesting, nice even, for some weird reason I associate it with sparkling, with fun. However. Yes I need a long pause. Shingling is not all it pretends to be. Watching momma crumple like used tissue is not cool.
The one amazing thing that has all of us four leggeds in awe is the single fact that nobody has to shove pills down momma's throat and massage it to make sure they went down. And she does not use pill pockets. When momma is shingling she takes the pills and swallows them on HER OWN! I call that raw courage. Do you thing pills for two leggeds taste good? Somehow I doubt it because momma brushes her teeth and tongue after taking some of them. Something else she does ON HER OWN! They have to catch me and literally hold me down for a tooth brushing...This morning the woke up early, took her meds and went downstairs muttering something having made gravelox and absolutely needing to make bagels and one or two epice so daddy would have fresh dinner bread. I would have argued that we don't really need anything, or that hey do sell the stuff in stores... but the next time I looked, everything is rising nicely and the oven is preheating... so, I am just going to shut up and enjoy smelling that fat chicken that will be roasted for din din...
Until then waiting for these to go into the oven...
'vie who would like a taste of fresh bagel with a schmear....
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