Food, Glorious Food

What is it about food that's so emotionally satisfying? I know that when I feel secure, I eat less and lose weight (my current weight should be a pretty strong hint as to just how insecure I feel these days). And I spend a lot of time researching what to feed Annie and the Ts, and like to watch them eat because I feel like I'm doing something positive for their health and well-being.

At the moment Annie is thrilled with her can of Fancy Feast--like a kid who usually gets oatmeal and this morning has donuts or something. Skinny Timber is eating his Innova Evo breakfast. Taenzer kept pointing her nose wistfully at the kitchen counter last night and this morning I finally found the piece of bully stick that had fallen out of the cupboard onto the counter and gave it to her, so she's greatly satisfied. They're happy; I'm happy.

It looks like it rained more last night, and this morning it's still damp and overcast, with a 50% chance for more rain, and temps down in the 50s; I put a sweatshirt over my t-shirt. I don't think the Ts are going to get into the puppy pen today, so my plan is to take Timber with me when I go do Bella and walk him around campus, then this afternoon I'll take Taenzer when I do Java and Koko and let her run around the fenced yard.

Yesterday afternoon between showers I went out and tied the clematis on the front rose garden fence into place, pulled a few weeds, and gave the two roses that survived their fertilizer spikes. It's terribly weedy out there, and the Russian Sage is spreading itself around. I'm thinking I may move some of the babies over to the property line to make a soft little hedge, although I have a friend who says her Russian Sage babies don't transplant well. And I need to spray on the west side of the house. I don't know what to do about over there. It's obviously getting enough sun to grow things, so I need to come up with some idea about what to plant there. Hostas and vinca, maybe; not exactly inspired, but it's an awkward position that gets late-afternoon/early-evening sun. Astilbe would never stand up to it. I would love to make it a path from the front to the back--say, big clumps of hosta (or clumps of big hosta), stepping stones, and crushed gravel over landscaping fabric. I'd like something tall behind the hostas, but I don't know what. Maybe I should take a landscaping class. I wonder if my university offers such a thing?