Author Archives: Lara Harriger

2nd Away Game

after obe­di­ence class. no he’s not very good at it. an before a bor­ing car rode to lyn­nwood to retrieve a for­got­ten cred­it card we did a quick 2 search­es on a load­ing dock behind the Barnes and noble in Wood­inville. we had an audi­ence for the sec­ond search. G was unim­pressed.

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1st Away Game

before we can switch from pup­py nose work (cook­ies and box­es) Giz­mo needs to do 6 search­es away from home or the train­ing facil­i­ty.

this is loca­tion one. the park next to the train depot and the police sta­tion in Duvall. we did two search­es one along the path and one along the rock wall. shown here. 

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Morroccan Chili

It’s not real­ly chili. It’s actu­al­ly soup, but it’s served at Box­ing Day when there’s Red Chili and Green Chili so this is  Orange Chili. It’s also Veg­an. And, odd­ly, accord­ing to a Moroc­can bar­tender I once described it to, pret­ty dan­ged authen­tic. Go fig­ure.

Easy to mul­ti­ply for crowds. Remem­ber = Do not feed Adri­an cilantro.

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Spiced Pecans

More hol­i­day requests. I’m remak­ing some bits of the web­site over here and just to make sure that I don’t end on anyone’s naughty list, I’m mak­ing sure that all of the most request­ed recipes stay avail­able. This one is for the crack-addic­tive pecans that show up at hol­i­day par­ties when any­one is sil­ly enough to say “oh just bring some­thing to nib­ble on.” You’ve been warned. I think these are based on some­thing that came from Cook­ing Light.

Hint: Make Lots.

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Red Chili in a Slow Cooker

A tra­di­tion at the Box­ing Day Par­ty. We’ve giv­en this recipe to skiers, foot­ball fans, par­ents of tod­dlers who refuse to eat “fun­ny stuff”, and moth­ers of teenage boys who don’t eat so much as inhale. What­ev­er. It dis­ap­pears by the boat load. Serve with corn bread is you’re feel­ing ambi­tious. Tor­tillas if you aren’t. Beer is good too.

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Pool Time

Giz­mo was born in Yaki­ma. It’s hot in Yaki­ma. He learned to love play­ing in a wad­ing pool.

Late­ly we’ve had some almost East­ern Wash­ing­ton tem­per­a­tures. So we’ve got­ten our own wad­ing pool out.

Puppy, Puppy, Puppy

(edit — this is old. I mean, real­ly. The pup­py already lives with us. It’s utter chaos.)

I didn’t intend it to hap­pen this way. I mean, I did intend to some day, per­haps not too long from now, get anoth­er Bou­vi­er. But not right now. Except that right now is how it hap­pened. Or will hap­pen. Real Soon Now.

Ivan passed away on April 4th. Sud­den­ly. It was all a bit dra­mat­ic and unpleas­ant and, well, unfor­tu­nate. So I wrote to Susan to let her know. And then it all hap­pened. There were pup­pies. And one male unspo­ken for. And Jim and I talked about it and… and…

in the words of my friend S. Pup­py, pup­py, pup­py. She’s also the one who said, omg _eye­brows_

So here we are with a pup­py in-bound and I gave away all of my baby gates to peo­ple with actu­al­ly babies and the ex-pens last held sheep and the crates are bro­ken down and stored in the barn and the old lady dog will not know what hap­pened to her qui­et, order­ly, bor­ing life.

We vis­it­ed last week­end. They were 71⁄2 weeks old and goofy and adorable in the way that Bou­vi­er pup­pies are. I have pic­tures and video to prove it.