In the refrigerator

This should never happen: my dog just threw up in the refrigerator.

A little background on that statement-- if Abby were human, she would be that girl who always makes straight A's but still manages to hyperventilate before the SAT. She makes nonsensical phrases like 110% possible. We had just been out playing, which is basically me tiredly flipping through junk mail while repeatedly trying to hurl the ball as far away from my person as possible and Abby continually thwarting me by launching herself into the air and intercepting every throw, only to toss the ball back into my lap or face. She has one blue eye and one brown one, so she looks even crazier than your average dog when she tries to drill through my head with her concentrated throw-the-fucking-ball stare.

So I obliged her. Nearly 50 times. In fact, I only stopped reading the paper and mindlessly throwing the ball because it soon became impossible to scrape the spit from my hands before turning the page. So we headed back inside so I could fix a sandwich, leaving the gob/ball outside, and I did something pretty normal-- I left the refrigerator door open as I went back and forth taking things out. Abby decided to investigate, but right as she looked inside, all the playing caught up with her and she barfed. In the refrigerator. Nothing will change your mind about a sandwich quite like cleaning congealed dog puke out of the bottom of your fridge.

Other randomness: I got my husband his birthday present, which was a ginormous Man Grill. I've never been able to do that for anybody before, buy them this giant thing they've always wanted, and it felt really cool. Seriously, he could cook a human in this thing-- an adult in maybe two rounds or an 8-year-old whole-- and it's got its own smokestack-looking thing and shelves and wheels... And I had my own not-tiny paycheck to do it with. Awesome. He got so excited! I've only seen him jump up and down about something a few times, but he was definitely jumping for this. Nice feeling.

Also random: there was this great old guy selling framed butterflies by the side of the road today. He does all his own framing and preserving, and he had cool bugs too-- a giant tarantula, some leaf bugs, all kinds of irridescent beetles. It makes me wish I wasn't completely broke now. He even had my favorite species-- it's not Parantica melanta, but it looks similar-- very classy and pared down colorwise, just an off white like rice paper on Japanese doors and then a brown-black velvety lace overlay. I've seen one in the Butterfly Museum in Houston, and the way the light hit it from behind, it was just amazing. He also had a species from the Phillipines called the Redneck, whose wings were mostly black with green slash marks, but then it had this fuzzy scarlet ring around its neck, like it was wearing a scarf. Gorgeous. I may go back and look at them again even though I can't afford one...