This is Watson’s sunning-like-a-lizard, “where’s my taco?!” face. 

Conor and I wanted to go for a run, but couldn’t stand to leave Watson alone at home. Instead, we packed the dog along with reading materials, baby carrots, and metro passes. Our relay race plan started off well; Conor went for a run while I sat in the sun, took pictures of Watson, and listened to the young people nearby look up instructions for baking special brownies. I got tagged in, and joined the coursing stream of people that is the running lane in Central Park.

It was going so well. The weather was finally wonderful and everyone was stretching into it. The dogs ran, too, after the last abandoned bites of hot dogs, stray kernels of kettle corn. I dodged jogging strollers, bounced past the Guggenheim, and felt speedy, light, and happy. I rounded the corner of my last tenths of of a mile, and looked up for Conor and Watson. Who should have been right in front of me, under our home base tree. Rather, they would have been there, had I not missed a turn and ended up two miles away. Oops.

Fortunately for my absent internal compass, I have a phone that tells me where I am. I ran my way back to the two of them, and then we went to Shake Shake and ate too many servings of french fries and custard. The way I figure, if I’m going to get lost and run two extra miles, I might as well make it up in french fries. 

Daffodil, rabbit foot fern, jade plant, jasmine, peperomia, button fern, zinfandel shamrock, and all I’ve ever wanted from a window sill. 

His face is literally  XD

I know it is not really ice cream, but on a warm Saturday afternoon in the park, nothing is better. 

Do you see that little white blur just past the tree? That is Conor and Watson almost catching a squirrel. Next time, little guy. You’ll get him next time. 

My very first dutch baby! How on earth is this “4-6 servings?” Can you really stop yourself from eating most of an entire pancake by yourself? 

I sent Conor this picture to prove that Watson was not sick. Hungry for popcorn, maybe, but not sick.

Conor returned from China and brought me a new green travel mug with a tea filter, tea, a gardening journal, and one small panda. A+ boyfriend, would boyfriend again. 

Walking into the Fab warehouse sale in Chelsea Market, I realized that I did not need quirky mugs, sari blankets, or sandal-clogs nearly as much as I needed to not be swallowed by cardboard boxes on the verge of mutiny. 

I bought one scoop of lemon ice cream, takeout sushi, and went home to hang out with Watson. 

Hey, we’re all guilty of extended snooze-button oversleeping. What’s important is that you’re finally here. 

The Baruch College Teaching and Technology Conference was inspiring, instructional, and featured a fantastic keynote (Jim Groom, Domains in the Afterglow Or, What Can We Learn from Geocities about Digital Identity). 

Also, I made this pipe cleaner caterpillar bookmark. 

A photo essay about spending Saturday night on the couch with Watson.

Maybe this is codependency and maybe personal space is a thing, but the broad expanse of a chair can get mighty lonely without a friend.