Chicken 'n dumplings

Macaroons need to be soaked in rum and drizzled with butterscotch sauce, that's what I think.

Company came over last night, and I was proud of the training I had given Chester.  The little three year old was able to interact with my little one, and I orchestrated the positive outcome.  With hand signals she made Chester leave the room, "raus", then lie down, then with quacking fingers,"bark", and then come and sit.  We rolled treats to him in the other room, where he waited.  I am so glad I don't have a dog jumping up to snap and get treats- that would be a disaster, but he waits in his rest position for us to roll them to him.  How great is that!  For the finale he did pirouettes while she laughed to see such a smart dog dance.  I felt pretty smart, too.

Now to get him to stop humping every one's arm, leg, side, pillow, every time they talk to him...

I chopped celery and onions, poured broth into three large pans, invited company. I should have used Swanson's Chicken broth, it's the best.  Just not  the same- I think they use swan soup or something to make it special...

 Miss Stephannee brought pop, two large bags of chicken, and a lemon pudding cake.  I cooked for an hour, made the dumplings with Bisquik, and called every one to dinner.  We served it in bowls, and Weslee had about four bowls full.  Liz even invited her roomie, and the neighbor down the street.  I do not know if everyone had enough, but there was only some chicken and a bit of soup left.

Liz did some planking for us- I think she shook too much to qualify ( planks don't shake, you know).  I do appreciate her attempt.




She read my attempt at fiction and said, "It's a journal entry, not fiction!"

"No, it's NOT!"  I replied.  "You do not know what is going to happen, and it is not all true.  You just know too much about me, and THINK you know what is happening!"

"That is NOT fiction, I know fiction, and that is just not it!"

Then she accused me of drinking.  WHOA, that is going too low!  Just because I insist I was writing fiction????

Well, I may like my rum in my macaroons, but I have no liqueur anywhere in the house, unless you count the vanilla extract.


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