Good news, bad news...

Well, the good news is, Cooper didn't get kicked out of puppy class. However, I must point out the fact that she was the only dog in attendance. Hopefully the word didn't get out that a full beagle was registered, scaring away other proud dog owners from enlisting their "children" in our class. Nah. That can't be right.

The truth is, our little bundle of joy surprised us. Our trainer, Betsy, is a take-no-crap kind of person, and she warned us before meeting Cooper that beagles are notorious for being stubborn, hyper, and pretty much the worst-behaving dog breed in existence.

But her first night of structured training went rather well. We practiced getting her to come when called, sitting, shaking (apparently you are supposed to say "paw" instead of "shake" since the latter sounds too much like "sit") and laying down. I almost did a cartwheel when Betsy said she was the most mellow beagle she'd ever worked with. Then, I wanted to say, "Really, lady? You haven't seen nothing yet."

Since she's the only dog in the class, we're getting a pretty good deal. We're going to get three private lessons with Betsy over the next three weeks, then we'll move into a Thursday night puppy class, since Betsy says Cooper really needs to socialize with other dogs.

That should be fun.

All in all though, we were proud. We came home and practiced some more, and she did great. Of course, the treats (which from now on have to be referred to as "cookies") helped.

Now, the bad news.

Since the husband is out of town with his team this weekend, I decided to jumpstart my weekend by baking up a storm yesterday afternoon, so I could bake some goodies for his road trip. In other words, I got to christen my newest prized possession: the bright yellow Kitchenaid stand mixer.

In theory, it should have been a piece of cake (pardon the pun). I tried the red velvet cheesecake brownie recipe, which I figured I could pull off. Problem is, I didn't have the right size pan. Instead, I opted for my bigger cookie sheet. Bad idea.

Had I taken the bigger size into consideration at the beginning, I may have set the timer for like, 10 minutes less. But I didn't. Which turned into brownies that tasted more like bricks.

Lucky for me, I also made some brownies from a box, just as a backup. Good call.

Now, I told my husband (since I've been a cooking fiend all week) that if he ever tastes one of my culinary masterpieces that he doesn't like, HE CAN TELL ME.

Being the sweetheart he is, he just said, "Tastes good to me!" Meanwhile, I was angrily tossing the burned contents of the pan into the trash.

Oh, well. Not bad for a first attempt. And I must admit, I grinned from ear to ear the first time I switched on that glorious stand mixer.

Next time.