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Blog Entry 12 of 32 The Caffiend

I love coffee. That pretty much is all anyone really needs to know about me. I am a caffeine fiend - or a caffiend, a word I concocted about two minutes ago. I have a hot cup of Seattle's Best 6th Avenue Bistro sitting in front of me right now. I don't know a lot about coffee, but I can grind it and make it and drink it like it's going out of style. I usually have a cup of coffee in my hand. I suppose my character and personality do surge deeper than the 10-cup level. I dig fine art. I love to paint and draw. I like to sit in my living room and play the guitar (and drink coffee) on Saturday mornings. Hanging out with my wife Elise and daughter Laurel...those times are the best. I love fly-fishing, stepping into a clear stream and setting the day-to-day grind adrift. And I can sit and stare out the window at the mountains for a really long time. Elise says I'm "watching out." I think it's my way of meditating. Or maybe it's caffeine overdose.

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Fourth great for everyone - dog included

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Contributed by: Tim Bergsten on 7/5/2007

The rain was the best part of the Fourth of July for me. I'm not a hot-weather person. We had friends and family over for barbeque - got it all in before the storm - then stuffed ourselves with desert and watched the skies open up.
Great stuff...great day. Our Cocker Spaniel, Zoey, also had a good time. Zoey's world revolves around chasing a tennis ball and begging for food. She is a pro with the ball, making acrobatic catches with her mouth. She can run like the wind.
I think she'll bounce it off her nose straight up in the air before catching it.
I thought this was an accident when I saw it the first time. But it happens so often, I believe she has created her own game. She's made a routine toss and catch something more exciting.
The Fourth was a big day for the dog. Not only were there plenty of people willing to throw theball, but she consumed some extra treats.
I cleaned the barbeque and removed some crunchy chunks of grease. Zoey found these and crunched them down like potato chips. But her big score came when we stepped outside to watch the fireworks.
My daughter Laurel had baked a excellent cake. She covered it with white frosting, then used blueberries and strawberries to make a pretty good replica of Old Glory.
The cake was a hit with everyone. We left the cake - about a third of it had been eaten - on the kitchen table while the fireworks were banging away.
When we returned, I noticed that part of - actually most of - the patriotic cake was missing.
Zoey had gobbled up the Stars and Stripes. Our nation's cake had been consumed by a dog. Our canine terrorist had unleashed frosting fury.
I figured she'd throw up in the house. It's kind of common. Didn't happen. By 7 a.m. Thursday (the day after the Fourth), she was coaxing me to throw the ball.

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