Name that ... composer

It's a good thing we're getting an extra day this February, because we've been busy.

Take last week, for example.

The first big thing that happened was that our Erica FINALLY found her dog.

I don't mean she had lost a dog and was looking for it.

Rather, she and Chad had long wanted to add a dog to their household. 

Photo courtesy Erica Porter

In the market, as it were.

(Chad brought a dog -- Jonah, a lab mix -- to the marriage, but unless the weather is particularly inclement, Jonah stays outside. They wanted a smallish inside dog that loves laps.)

Consequently, Erica had worn a path from her workplace to our local no-kill shelter, where she'd drop by on her lunch hour a couple of times a week to see what new tails were wagging.

(It's the place where I found and rescued both Rizzo and Sweetness.)

(In fact, she wanted a dog modeled after my Rizzo, whom she adores. He loves her too.)

Photo courtesy Erica Porter

But despite popping round to check out numerous dogs over a period of several months, Erica was unable to make a decision about which pooch to purchase.

Until last week, when she got some intel on a breeder with a litter of Chorkies (Chihuahua/Yorkshire Terrier mix) that had been born, reached the age of eight weeks, and were for sale.

(We like Chihuahuas; you may remember the late Javier, our family dog for nearly seventeen years, was a full-breed Chihuahua. My Rizzo is a Chiweenie -- Chi/Dachshund. Stephanie's new dog, Shiloh, is a Taco Terrier -- Chi/Toy Fox Terrier. And now this.)

At any rate, Erica showed up to look over the litter last Thursday and was taken with one particular puppy. She put down her money and picked up her new furbaby.

On Friday, as we do for the grandchildren's birthdays throughout the year, we met with Stephanie and her family for supper at a Cracker Barrel in Charlotte, North Carolina.

The occasion was Little Andrew's eighth birthday, which was on the next day.

Erica brought her new dog along -- yes ... inside the restaurant ... it was in the thirties outside -- hidden in a large tote bag.

It was lucky that our party of eleven was seated in an otherwise empty section of the restaurant. We took turns holding the mostly-sleeping puppy in our laps, out of sight.

Said puppy was as-yet nameless. Erica said that it took her nearly a year to find her dog and it would likely take her nearly a week to name her.

She'd asked for my help because apparently I get credit for being good at naming both people and animals.

Photo courtesy Erica Porter

(It was I who came up with Dagny Clare's name, before she was born. Audrey loved it and that lent me an air of credibility in this category.)

But everything I'd suggested -- Piper, Paisley, Skylar, Skye, Mitzi, Phoebe, and a few I can't remember -- had been ultimately rejected.

The next night -- Saturday -- TG and I went with Chad, Erica, Audrey, and Dagny to hear the South Carolina Philharmonic (with guest pianist Phillip Bush) play Beethoven's First Piano Concerto.

We'd never exposed Dagny to that much culture all at one time, but she did well.

(Actually she semi-snoozed through the Beethoven but sat up and listened avidly to the Dvořák which came later, after intermission.)

Both the SC Philharmonic and Mr. Bush were fantastic and I enjoyed it so much.

Afterwards the girls posed for a few pictures.

This past Monday, still mulling over a name for the puppy, I asked Erica if we could come over in the evening and get to know her new pet better.

I was determined to pin a moniker on that dog.

Erica graciously offered to cook up some supper for us all. It was a cold, rainy night, perfect for hanging out in Cherica's cozy domicile and snuggling with a puppy.

So it was that as I held the sleeping little dog, a name came to me.

Sibi. Sybil. Sybil -- Sibi for short (say "Sibby").

I mentioned it to Erica, who immediately brightened. I could tell she liked it.

Still, late in the evening when I finally relinquished my hold on maybe-Sibi and TG and I left for home, no decision had been made.

The next day Erica texted me.

Chad had texted her and said he was convinced the dog's name should be Sibyl.

Sibi.

And so Sibi is named and Erica has her puppy, and there was Beethoven and there was a birthday.

Not a bad week's work.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday

Buggy Ride

One evening last week, TG and I were out and about. As is often our custom, we stopped at Publix for a few grocery items before going home.

I make an oven-baked batch of brown rice nearly every day. I'd been buying two-pound bags of Mahatma rice but was running out too quickly for my liking.

So this time, I picked up a five-pound bag of Publix-labeled brown rice.

It looked normal in the store.

When we got home, I changed clothes while TG brought in the groceries.

By the time I had begun unpacking our purchases, the rice was ... well. It was crawling. With bugs.

(I'm glad I noticed it before I opened the bag and decanted the rice into a storage canister.)

I believe the creepy-crawlies were down in the middle of the bag, hanging out until the bag got shifted and shaken, riling them up.

It was so disgusting. You could actually hear them moving around.

TG took our rice back the next morning and was given a refund, plus three two-pound bags of Mahatma brown rice (free of charge).

As he left the store, the shelf was being cleared of all five-pound bags of Publix brown rice.

Bugs be gone!

But still. Next time you buy rice in a bag, shake it up. Wait a minute or two, then look it over.

Carefully.

It may be bugged.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday