For me, it starts with the wayward hair that won’t go easily into place. From there, it progresses, to a split end… and then many, many more… ends that are split. Time is something that passes, without bold indication, but rather with small changes; mostly undetectable, until suddenly they are, detectable… and bothersome.
I awoke this morning to a sound, rhythmic, familiar. It sounds like this: tststst…tststst…tststst…? I know this sound, so I don’t even question it, the sound. I was still asleep. Later on, it occurred to me, my hair was having a very bad day; how long had it been since my last cut?
And later still, I am cooking, chop, chop, choppity-chop, chchchop…love to chop…; I was in a groove. Then thwack-a-thwack, thwack, thwack. Hate the thwack in the distance! But then enters the tststst…tststst…tststst! What the Hell is going on? I of course know and turn knowing what I will see.
Thwack-a-thwack, thwack, thwack. I look to my left and there sits Ginger… so busted! Itching her ear. Itching, itching but then getting up and walking… tststst…tststst…tststst… really? Buddy is following close behind… tststst…tststst… The clackers, we call them the clackers because of the sound that their nails make, now, as they cross the hardwood floors, it reminds us of the high heels of a clacker.
It’s been 6 weeks, 3 days and several hours since we last dropped off our beloved clackers at the boutique in Ballard, where on Wednesday, Ginger and Buddy will be spending the day. I know this because… of tststst…tststst…tststst… the sound that tells me we will be visiting Victoria soon; time to de-clack.
Buddy: “Hey Ginger, do you think we are getting shaggy?”
Ginger: “You are Mr. Stinky, but my hair looks good long.”
Buddy: Ya, well I can hear your paws from the other side of the house.”
Ginger: “Do you think we are going to see Victoria soon?”
Buddy: “We like Victoria.”
Like clockwork… yes, clockwork, for them, it starts with the wayward hair that will not brush easily from their eyes. From there it progresses to the shagginess that starts gradually, almost undetectable, until the twigs begin to attach themselves, following Ginger and Buddy in from the yard. Finally they look a few inches rounder; their slim frames hidden beneath their new coat. And then comes the clacking, the inevitable sign that we are quickly approaching seven weeks from their last cut. The toenails have once again given them away and served as a reminder that we will soon be making a trek to Ballard and perhaps eating out at one of the many places we love to eat at in that part of town, perhaps Staple & Fancy, Bastille…or Delancey?
Raw beet & asparagus salad
This is just the kind of thing Ginger and Buddy like to eat.
Buddy and Ginger are big fans of salad but for some reason, they just don’t like the lettuce (unless it comes fully dressed, and that’s not on their diet). So, I thought this might be the perfect meal to send them off for a day at the spa. Asparagus is in season and available locally right now so I love to leave it raw; the flavor is crystal clear. I like to peel the thorns from the stems but to many people, this would be considered fussing. The beets are also in a nice state right now so I opt to keep them raw as well. I make up a little dressing for Tom and I but Buddy and Ginger require none.
For the dressing, I put a pinch of sea salt, a few grinds of pepper, a little chopped garlic, a squeeze of lemon juice and a spot of Dijon mustard into a mini jar (only a few inches tall by half as wide), filled it the rest of the way with olive oil and shook it up until it became creamy.
I then carefully peeled a golden beet and sliced it thin on my mandolin. The asparagus got stemmed, the tips reserved and the thorns lightly peeled away. Next, at a diagonal, I sliced them thinly into pieces.
I had a fresh container of Buffalo mozzarella which I squeezed of excess moisture. I divided some of the beets and asparagus onto two small plates for Buddy and Ginger then tossed the rest in a bowl with just enough dressing to lightly coat the vegetables.
This was then divided onto two, slightly larger, plates for Tom and I. Next came torn pieces of the mozzarella, scattered over all of our plates, and a drizzle more of the dressing with a sprinkling of sea salt for Tom and I.