Wow, it’s been a long time since I did an Armchair Confessional! For any of you new to the blog, I have been known from time to time to get brutally honest about my homemaking foibles, and when I do they make it to the blog under this Confessions category. If you’re interested in seeing more of my blunders, you can check them out here.
I was feeding Birdie girl her breakfast of yogurt and fruit puree the other morning, and as I was attempting to refill her dish, I dropped the large container of yogurt and ended up splattering about 1/5 of the contents all over my table top. After I suppressed a curse word or two, I remembered that theres no sense in crying (or cursing) over spilt yogurt.
A confession within a confession: the older I get, the more I hate waste. The more organic and local and seasonal we eat, I hate waste more. The more I try to recycle what I can, compost what I can, and reduce packaging, I hate waste even morer (yes, I said morER).
So with this in mind, I looked at my spilled yogurt and a light went on: when I drop food bits on the floor I call Stuey Dog, our little Hoover with a pulse. So why limit his clean-up capabilities to the ground level? Stuart was about to move on up.
So… as you can see yes I did allow my Maltese to lick up the yogurt off my table top. We can’t get the poor dog to put on any weight, so hopefully the full-fat dairy product will do him some good. And it made a bit less for me to clean up, and a bit less of a frustration in my brain over waste. I was happy.
And so was Birdie girl- she enjoyed the show.
And what did I do the very next morning? Put Bird’s yogurt dish in arm’s reach of her, turned my back to get something, and got myself this new mess to clean up:
I’m not a quick learner, am I?