Last weekend Fred and I met a wonderful dog named Kooper during an adoption event at a local pet store. We haven’t formally adopted him yet, but this weekend we’re fostering him as a sort of trial run.

Kooper is about three and a half years old, and he appears to be a mix of German shepherd, Dalmatian, and either husky or malamute. According to one of his foster mothers, he had been adopted before by a couple, who apparently did some training (he knows “sit” and “stay” and is very well-behaved). When the couple split up, though, they gave Kooper back to Stray Rescue.

Six a.m. walks notwithstanding, Kooper has done an outstanding job adjusting to us and our home. Our major concern, though, is getting the two cats to warm up to the dog. When Kooper first arrived, both cats started for the back of the house; Kooper’s “chase” instinct kicked in and he pursued, which made the cats run faster, which made Kooper run faster, and so on. Since then we’ve set up a gate dividing the front half of the house from the back half, with Kooper’s stuff in front and the cats’ stuff in back. There has been a very tentative détente as a result.

Every now and then we’ll gently restrain Kooper, open the gate, and let the cats approach him on their own terms. As the cats tire of their relative confinement, they’re becoming more and more willing to do it. Kooper is basically fine with the cats; if anything, he’s eager to meet them and play with them, and sometimes this eagerness makes him jump and whimper, thus spooking the cats. Oddly, though, the normally-social cat (Chip) is still extremely skittish of the dog, and the normally-shy cat (Dale), while still skittish, is making cautious progress towards full acceptance.

We’re still a little uncertain about how this will all work out. Kooper’s pretty large compared to the cats, and combined with his excitability that may keep the cats from fully trusting him. Unfortunately, if the cats and Kooper can’t get along, then Kooper will need to find another home, and we’ll have to find a smaller dog to adopt. Having met Kooper, though, we don’t see him having any trouble finding somebody to love him and care for him. (And if we don’t take him, I am willing to bet that my mother-in-law will be the first one in line to adopt him; we took him to their place today and they got along immediately.)

Busy week ahead. Tonight’s a final in theology, my least favorite class in a long time. Tomorrow night I have the option of taking a final in psychology, but I’m skipping it because the prof is dropping our lowest individual test score and because I have 78/80 on every single test so far (which is kind of creepy). Wednesday I have to appear before a judge to see if s/he wants me to serve on a grand jury; we also have a chorus-small-group rehearsal. Thursday morning I have an appointment to get a permanent crown on tooth #12; this will finish the work on that tooth. And this weekend, Fred and I are going to Chicago for a Brotherhood of the Phoenix event.

More later, if I get a chance.

Over the weekend Fred and I finally celebrated our first wedding anniversary by going out for a nice dinner. We arrived at the restaurant and perused the drink menu, with my eye immediately landing on “Cucumber martini” with Hendrick’s listed as the first component. I am a gin boy, and I enjoy Hendrick’s, so I figured the other components would enhance the cucumbery goodness therein.

I should have read more. I got a martini glass full of cold neat Hendrick’s with a ribbon of cucumber in it.

Folks: If you don’t put anything else in it, then it isn’t a martini. It’s just gin. Don’t call it a martini if it isn’t a martini.

Last night was the next chapter of the Tale of Tooth Twelve: Post and Filling.

After the excavation, the dentist left a temporary filling over the gaping hole. I managed to crack this temp filling on Tuesday night while eating a granola bar (damned delicious almonds), revealing the rubbery plug providing support underneath the filling. As it turns out, though, this was no big deal; I was careful about crunchy things for the next day or so and everything was OK.

The procedure itself was cake. The nerve tissue in that tooth had been removed during the excavation, so anesthetic wasn’t really necessary. Granted, the cold air on my gums was uncomfortable, and the way the temporary filling got drilled out was unnerving, but otherwise things were OK.

Right now I have a post embedded in the actual root canal; this provides internal structural support to the natural and artificial surfaces. (I think it’s some sort of plastic but I’m not certain.) On top of that is an epoxy filling; apparently I was the first at that office to receive that particular sort of epoxy, because the dentist and his assistants were all geeking out over the consistency and finish and set time.

I get the crown in a couple weeks. After that, #12 will be basically fixed.

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This past weekend I got my tax refund. Once some bills were paid and a sizable chunk of money applied towards existing debt, Fred and I went to replace a few articles of clothing and a few things around the house. We also did some minor splurging here and there; the largest single purchase of the weekend was a new iPod for me, as my previous one bit the big one. Other notable purchases include some work-type clothes and a new DVD player-slash-stereo to replace the dying separate units.

The best part of buying new stuff is the sheer novelty of new stuff, of course. The second-best part, though, is getting rid of that which is no longer useful or functional, and we got pretty extreme with our clothing purge. For about half an hour we dug through every corner of the closet and dressers and basket of just-done laundry —

• Do you wear this?
• No.
• ‘k. *chucks another item onto pile; grabs next thing* Do you wear this?

etc. By the time we were finished the bed was COVERED in old, donatable clothing, and the trash can was overflowing with old, non-donatable socks ‘n’ underwear. Now that all of that is gone, though, we can just about fit all of our clothing into a single dresser, and there is sufficient room in the closet to root idly through for the Perfect Look [tm] without having to remove crap first.

I will confess, though, that in our search for the aforementioned DVD/stereo, we very nearly sprung for a new TV. So far we’ve been able to resist, although I can see the day approaching where we’ll let down our guard. (I have found myself researching brands and models, and this is rarely a good sign.)

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Fred has a new site for his emerging practice. He’s adding content regularly, so keep an eye on MetaWholeness.

First, the big news: we’re in the process of slowly moving to a vegetarian kitchen (specifically ovo-lacto). It’s primarily for personal-health reasons, and I promise that neither of us will become militant about it.

Outside of the home, Fred’s going to try sticking to vegetarianism, but I am free to carnivorate (new word, ha) as the urge strikes. As a result, members of my family should note that uttering “oh, Jim, I thought you were a vegetarian, what are you doing ordering the ribs?” in a mocking tone will earn you the “what kind of inattentive moron are you?” look.

Fred had the original veg idea, but the gradual transition is my idea. I tried quitting meat cold turkey (sorry, bad pun) when I was in high school, and it wasn’t too long before my body said “Seriously, WTF?!”. (It didn’t help that I had little control over my options then.) As a result, I suggested that we eliminate one type of meat at a time, take a month or so to adjust, then re-evaluate. We took our first step at the beginning of February by striking beef from the shopping list. (Health-wise, it looks like we timed it sort of well.) So far I think it’s gone well, so we’re on track to eliminate pork at the beginning of March, with seafood and poultry later down the road. Fred’s already a bit concerned about having to give up chicken, but I don’t think we’ll think of ourselves as failures if poultry is still occasionally found in our refrigerator or freezer.

As the veg experiment continues we’ll tinker with our favorite recipes to see if we can find suitable alternatives. I already have a few ideas in the baked-pasta realm, which I hope to work on soon (mostly because baked pasta just doesn’t work in July).

One unexpected bonus of the no-beef experiment: our grocery bill is noticeably cheaper. It’s only a couple bucks per week at the moment, but that should add up faster as we phase out other meats. (That’s also a few extra dollars we can devote to other things, like cookies. Mmm, cookies.)

More on the veg front as things develop.

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I’ve been baking lately. A lot. To the extent that we’ve stopped buying bread with our other groceries, because I’m baking it instead. (Well, OK. I have mechanical assistance, but still.)

There’s something mystical, almost alchemical, about baking bread. I can’t help but think that I should be chanting or invoking Ceres or something as I carefully measure out the flour, or thump a fresh loaf to test its doneness, or enjoy the steam escaping from the first cut.

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Still doing lots of pasta, because

1. it’s cold out
2. it’s really dry inside (boiling water -> steam -> humidity -> skin no longer itches)
3. pasta is fast
4. pasta is easy
5. pasta is inexpensive
6. pasta is tasty
7. pasta is very versatile

[Gluten-sensitive persons are probably all shuddering right now with all this talk of bread and pastas, but I feel obligated to note that we aren't just doing traditional semolina-based pastas. Many modern stores have pastas based on non-semolina flours, and some are rather good. Trader Joe's has good brown rice pasta, as long as you don't overcook it.

Bread-wise... well, we're still working on technique with the regular stuff, so we haven't gotten to gluten-free yet.]

Anyway. Sauce-wise, we’re experimenting a bit. I’ve been working more on my Béchamel, warming the milk gradually with onion and bay before whisking it into the roux, and I think that the improved texture and extra flavors make it work better (especially as a base for a cheese sauce). We’re also digging through cookbooks for things we haven’t tried yet, especially if they involve pancetta or prosciutto or bacon.

And yes, we do just crack open a jar of store-bought sauce from time to time. As an inveterate fiddler, though, I usually wind up adding something to the mix. Historically that has been ground beef or bulk Italian sausage, but sauteed mushrooms also work beautifully in just about every sauce I can think of.