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A house build on true love

Even in a house build on true love, not just as an agreed rule to live by but the genuine heartfelt substance without any serious dubiety, there are no absolute warranties things will remain free of war and battle, yet another platitude profoundly puzzling me nevertheless, overwhelmed by its intensity.

Having a new puppy roaming around the property obviously first and foremost appeals to feelings of affection, tenderness and warmth, leading to all kinds of inspiring thoughts of life long friendship and mutual connection, thus steadily forming the groundwork to build a life together. Having the first visitor in months coming to Les Pierres the other day provided all the ratification of this foundation we could have dreamed of, with Mec showing excellent skills and behavior and our friend, who knows her way around dogs, elaborately praising us for the job we are doing trying to consciously raise him well-advised.

Her nice words perspicuously need counter balance for all the times these past weeks we got aggravated, upset and frustrated at the semi-anthropomorphic little elephant with the giant ears, which is basically every day during witching hour, a grossly misleading term because it lasts way longer and possessed seems a more appropriate expression than bewitched. All succeses accomplished earlier in the day quickly dwindle when that devil takes control of our adorable baby and turns him into a nerve-wracking piranha, a hellacious werewolf on steroids.

None of these quirky puns cover the serious load and despair these uphill battles induce, excessively discouraging because of their recurrence and the shadow they always seem to cast forward in the form of the guilt felt when he finally falls asleep, mostly because you forgot to handle your own stress levels that made things boil over unnecessary, great, how very mature we are.

The constant examination and observation of our own mental and emotional processes, plus each others, passing the blame around, is most exhausting. Escaping this trap of ongoing introspection is easy though, by just turning our gaze outwards into the garden, where our still prospering nasturtiums scream ‘Victory in a difficult battle’.

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