Humble as Humble

I'm not a person blessed with oodles of self esteem. Okay, I've been known to call myself an undeserving worm. And that was on a good day. It drives Bill nuts.

I think the positive side of this is that I can make other people feel good about themselves in two ways. One, they look at me and feel instantly better about themselves. (I aim to please.) And two, I believe I am sensitive to other people's insecurities and can help.

When folks meet me, I like to put my best foot forward. And when they come to our house, I like to have it looking decent. (So why don't I keep it tidy all the time, you ask? Because I'm a worm, silly!) And when we invite people for dinner, I like it to be special.

Bill had a fun promotion going through his gallery. If you bought artwork valued over a certain amount, you got a fancy pasta dinner for two, fixed by the artist himself. So we've gotten to meet, or to know better, some great people.

Okay. Stage is set.

New folks come for dinner. House is spotless. Dogs are settled. They've been walked, fed, let out just before guests arrive, and tucked in with delectable chewies in the dog room just off the kitchen. They know the scoop: company of the non-dog sort for dinner. They don't mind. They have special treats, and they know we'll save the dishes for them to lick.

We're casual. Khakis, jeans. I have on a nice little sweater, handed down by a friend's fancy friend, and flattering earrings which were a lovely gift. Since it is a big deal night for me, I even have on some mascara and a little blush. Big deal night. I think I'm not looking too bad.

The evening goes well. The guests are gracious, interesting, and fun. Bill's pasta is delicious. The bread from Kirchhoff's is heavenly as always and my coconut chess pie pleases. We avoid discussions of politics and religion and some great belly buster jokes are shared.

After the guests leave, Bill and I congratulate ourselves on an evening gone well. High fives! The whippets delight in doing their best pre-rinse duties, and we head up to bed. I figure I'll wear my khakis again tomorrow for walking dogs, so I lay them out after peeling them off my full-of-pasta-and-pie self.

Humble.



(Swede William examines his handy work)

I had walked around all night, feeling a little fancy and worthy ... with a paw print exactly on my right buttock.


Humble.



Hug your hounds and bless their hearts